Orno, still dazed and disoriented, stared at the object in Victor's hand after hearing his response. It took him a moment to process that Victor was wielding what looked like a… dismembered piece of his own armor.
Bam!
Before Orno could fully comprehend, Victor raised his makeshift weapon—the remains of his armor's leg piece—and smashed it against Orno's helmet. Dark red blood splattered onto the arena floor, painting a grim and chaotic picture.
"You bastard! Still won't surrender? I'm not giving you the chance to use your Star Armor again!" Victor growled, his voice fierce and unyielding.
"Hmph!" Orno let out a stifled groan. For the first time, he felt the pain of being hit with such an absurd weapon. "It's just a match! Do you really have to go this far? I'm not even your mortal enemy!"
"But you are my opponent," Victor snarled, pouncing onto Orno and gripping his throat tightly. "If you can't give it your all in a battle that doesn't cost lives, how will you ever find the courage to fight to the death on a real battlefield?"
"Ugh... Let... go!" Orno wheezed, clawing at Victor's hands around his neck. For the first time in his career as a Star Armor pilot, he felt the cold breath of death creeping closer.
"Surrender!" Victor demanded, his eyes blazing with determination as he tightened his grip.
"You..." Orno gritted his teeth, his pride and frustration battling for control. This fight had been in his grasp; victory had been certain. Yet now, in a shocking reversal, he found himself at the mercy of this relentless youth, whose crazed persistence had turned the tide.
Orno's mind swirled with rage and regret over his earlier decisions. But as his breaths grew shorter, his vision blurred, and his consciousness began to fade, his survival instincts finally overpowered his ego.
"I... I surrender!" Orno croaked, his voice filled with bitterness and humiliation.
"Hahaha!" Victor laughed triumphantly at Orno's submission. His taut nerves finally loosened, and his body collapsed, landing heavily on Orno.
"You..." Orno, now able to breathe freely, gulped down air as he stared at the barely conscious Victor sprawled atop him. His complex emotions shifted as he looked at the young man who had pushed himself to the brink of death to win.
"Did you really have to go this far?" Orno muttered. His initial bitterness faded as he saw Victor's battered, near-death state. His earlier resentment melted into reluctant admiration.
The moment Orno admitted defeat, the referee declared Victor the winner. The arena erupted into thunderous cheers. Every spectator chanted Victor's name, including those who had earlier supported Orno.
Initially, some had criticized Victor's unconventional tactics and undignified grappling. But now, the sheer willpower and audacity of the young man who wielded his own leg armor as a weapon had won everyone over. He had become a legend of grit and determination.
---
In a quiet and elegantly decorated villa, a woman sobbed as she watched the match's broadcast.
"Victor... my son!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.
"That's enough, dear. He won. You should be cheering for him now," her husband, Bennett, said gently, holding her close in an attempt to comfort her.
"He's just a child. Why does he have to fight so hard?"
"It's for the honor of the family," Bennett hesitated before answering.
"Honor? Is family honor really worth risking his life?" she asked, her red-rimmed eyes pleading for understanding.
"Against an opponent who surpassed him in every way, this was the only path to victory."
"Why did he have to win? He could've just surrendered. It's only a match," she replied, her voice trembling with frustration and sorrow.
"Our son has grown up. As parents, we can only stand behind him, silently supporting his choices. When he triumphs, we celebrate with him. When he falls, we heal his wounds," Bennett said, his tone firm yet empathetic.
"I understand," she said softly, wiping her tears.
---
Meanwhile, in a relaxed meeting room within the Douglas family estate, the head of the family addressed a group of elders.
"Did any of you watch Victor's match today?"
"Coincidentally, I did," one of the elders replied.
"And what are your thoughts?"
"An unbelievable victory," the elder said, his tone still tinged with amazement.
"Unbelievable? What was so special about it?" The other elders, intrigued, leaned forward.
"Rather than take my word for it, why don't you watch it yourselves? Trust me, it'll be worth your time."
Moments later, the room fell silent as the elders watched the match replay. When Victor's battered figure finally forced Orno to surrender, the elders exchanged glances, their eyes filled with astonishment and admiration.
"It's hard to believe someone like this has emerged from the Douglas family!"
"Do you see this as a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Isn't it obvious? It's a good thing!"
"Of course. Every family needs sharp minds and skilled managers, but it also needs warriors like Victor—people who are willing to fight with everything they have. They're the ones who bolster the family's strength and prestige."
"I propose we allocate more resources to Victor. He's proven his potential. What do you all think?"
"Agreed. If we can't nurture talents like him, we might as well disband the family!"
"On that note, we should also pay attention to the person who trained Victor. Without that teacher's guidance, Victor might never have shown such exceptional qualities."
"You mean Jeros?"
"Can you deny the connection between the two?"
"Are you suggesting Jeros has the ability to turn ordinary individuals into geniuses and make geniuses extraordinary?"
"Perhaps. Victor's victory might be an isolated case, but what about the other six students Jeros has trained? They're all one step away from the quarterfinals. That's far beyond the family's expectations. It's hard to chalk up seven successes to mere luck."
"Then let's send more students to train under Jeros and see what happens."
"He might object. Teaching students has already delayed his own training."
"The family can offer additional resources to compensate. It's worth the investment."
"Agreed. Let's discuss this with him and respect his decision."
---
"Jeros, the family hopes you can train more talents like Victor. The rewards will be generous if you agree."
"Understood." Muria, who had been meditating, opened his eyes in mild surprise. After a moment of thought, he nodded.
To him, this was a low-risk, high-reward opportunity. The family members sent to him would be talented individuals with compatibility ratings of at least 60%. While a single student might not seem significant, their collective strength would be monumental.
When these students matured and spread across the Douglas family's institutions, they would owe their allegiance to him. And when Muria, with the ambition of becoming the Douglas family head, called upon them, who would dare oppose him?
_________________________
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