I stepped into the primary arena as the crowd's energy reached fever pitch. The main combat ring had been cleared specifically for this featured match, ensuring maximum visibility for what everyone anticipated would be the tournament's most competitive fight so far.

Seraphina entered from the opposite side, and I had to admit she cut an impressive figure. Her Valkyrie bloodline expressed itself clearly in her bearing - proud, martial, radiating the warrior spirit that legendary shieldmaidens were known for. She carried a double-bladed battle axe with the easy confidence of someone who'd trained with the weapon since childhood.

The crowd's anticipation was palpable. Two ducal heirs, both at peak-Elite rank, both undefeated in the tournament so far. This was the matchup everyone had wanted to see.

I noticed Kyle in the spectator section, watching intently. His expression carried possessive pride as he observed his girlfriend prepare for combat. He clearly expected her to win or at least put up an incredible fight.

Seraphina's eyes met mine across the arena, and I saw the calculation there. She was assessing, strategizing.

After all, she'd dumped me specifically because she'd thought I was weak and lacked ambition.

The referee raised his hand. "Competitors ready?"

We both nodded.

"BEGIN!"

CHARGE! IMMEDIATE AGGRESSION!

Seraphina exploded forward with Valkyrie-enhanced speed, her battle axe already swinging in a devastating arc designed to end fights quickly through overwhelming offense. The legendary bloodline granted her superior physical capabilities and martial instincts that made her naturally formidable in close combat.

I didn't retreat or dodge.

CLASH!

My sword met her axe with Blood Enhancement flooding my muscles, the impact creating a shockwave that rippled across the arena floor. I deflected the strike aside with superior strength that clearly shocked her - her eyes widened momentarily as she realized I'd stopped her charge completely.

"You've gotten stronger, again." she acknowledged, immediately flowing into her next attack sequence.

SWING!

Her axe work was genuinely impressive - brutal efficiency combined with technical refinement that showed years of dedicated training. Each strike carried devastating power backed by Valkyrie bloodline enhancement, and her tactical positioning demonstrated combat intelligence beyond simple berserker fury.

Against most opponents, she would be absolutely overwhelming.

Against me, she was outmatched.

I defended with minimal movement, my Supernatural Physique trait providing the foundation while Blood Enhancement amplified strength and speed to levels that exceeded her capabilities. The Swift Essence aspect made my reactions ten percent faster, allowing me to read her patterns and respond before attacks fully developed.

I wasn't using Null Strike, wasn't activating Stone Echo, wasn't even employing my half of my arsenal. Just physical enhancement and swordsmanship fundamentals refined through countless hours of practice.

And it was enough. More than enough.

My blade work began systematically dismantling her offense. Each of her attacks was deflected or parried, and my counters started landing with increasing frequency. A cut across her shoulder. A strike against her ribs that made her grunt. A slash along her thigh that drew blood and affected her mobility.

"Fight back properly!" she snarled, her Valkyrie pride clearly stung by being pushed onto the defensive.

"I am fighting properly," I replied calmly while deflecting another desperate combination. "You're just not strong enough to make me use anything more."

Her expression twisted with fury and humiliation. The crowd's murmuring grew louder as they realized this wasn't the competitive showcase they'd anticipated - it was becoming a one-sided demonstration.

Seraphina abandoned caution and threw everything into pure offense, her axe becoming a whirlwind of devastating strikes powered by maximum Valkyrie enhancement. The attacks came from every angle with brutal intensity that would have shredded most defenses.

I matched her escalation effortlessly.

My sword moved with precision, deflecting each strike while simultaneously countering with attacks that accumulated damage relentlessly. More cuts appeared across her arms and torso. Her breathing grew labored as exhaustion and injury degraded her combat effectiveness.

From the spectator section, I heard Kyle's voice rising above the crowd noise.

"Seraphina! Focus! Use the that technique!"

She heard him and attempted to execute what was apparently a special bloodline ability - a devastating overhead strike that channeled maximum power into a single blow designed to break through any defense.

The axe descended with enough force to crack the reinforced arena floor, her entire body behind the attack.

I sidestepped, making her miss completely, then struck her exposed side with a powerful counter that sent her stumbling several meters.

"SERAPHINA!" Kyle's shout carried genuine alarm now as he watched his girlfriend being thoroughly dominated.

She recovered and charged again, refusing to yield despite the obvious capability gap. Her Valkyrie bloodline wouldn't allow retreat - the legendary warrior spirit that made her formidable also created a fatal weakness.

Never back down from a fight. Never surrender. Never show weakness even when outmatched.

It was a curse disguised as pride.

She kept attacking despite accumulating injuries, despite exhaustion making her movements sloppy, despite every tactical indicator screaming that continuing was futile. The Valkyrie bloodline compelled her forward, warrior instinct overriding rational assessment.

I knew the truth even if the crowd didn't - she literally couldn't stop fighting until rendered unconscious or killed. The bloodline's compulsion wouldn't permit voluntary surrender.

"Kyle, stop the match!" someone near him suggested as Seraphina's condition deteriorated further.

"She can still win!" he insisted, though his expression showed growing desperation. "She just needs to land one good hit!"

But that hit would never come.

I continued methodically breaking down her defense and offense simultaneously. My strikes targeted specific points - nerve clusters to degrade mobility, joint strikes to reduce power output, precise cuts that accumulated blood loss without being immediately lethal.

This wasn't brutality. This was precision designed to end the fight as efficiently as possible while minimizing permanent damage. Although, I didn't like her as a character in the novel, she was still a powerful character that could change events in the future. Hurting her permanently was akin to killing a future ally that would protect this city.

Seraphina's axe grew heavier in her grip as strength faded. Her footwork became stumbling rather than tactical. Her eyes showed recognition that she was beaten, but the Valkyrie bloodline wouldn't release its hold.

"Adrian..." she gasped, still trying to raise her weapon for another attack. "I won't... surrender..."

"I know," I said quietly, positioning for the finishing sequence. "Your bloodline won't let you."

Understanding flickered in her eyes - recognition that I knew about the compulsion, that I understood why she couldn't stop.

I executed a three-strike sequence that disarmed her completely - blade knocking the axe from weakened grip, follow-up strike to her shoulder that numbed her arm, final precise blow to her temple with the flat of my sword that had just enough force to render her unconscious without causing serious injury.

Seraphina collapsed, finally released from the bloodline's compulsion by unconsciousness.

"WINNER: ADRIAN BLACKWOOD!"

The crowd erupted, though the applause carried mixed tones. Excitement at witnessing such dominant performance, but also discomfort at how one-sided the "featured match" had turned out to be.

Medical staff rushed to attend Seraphina while I sheathed my sword and walked calmly from the ring.

In the spectator section, Kyle's face was a mask of barely controlled fury. His girlfriend - the powerful Valkyrie bloodline heir who was predicted to reach at least the semifinals - had been eliminated in the round of thirty-two. Thrashed so thoroughly she'd never landed a meaningful strike. Dominated so completely that her legendary bloodline had been exposed as insufficient.

And the person responsible was her ex-boyfriend, the "weak" one she'd dumped for lacking ambition.

I met Kyle's furious glare with complete calm. Let him be angry. Let him recognize that the natural order he'd assumed - where he and Seraphina stood above everyone else - was a fiction.

The "uncrowned queen" had fallen.

And the message was clear to everyone watching: there were levels to this game that legendary bloodlines alone couldn't overcome.

As I left the arena ring, Kael and Elen immediately approached from where they'd been watching in the competitor section.

"That was incredible!" Kael said with genuine enthusiasm. "I've never seen someone dismantle an opponent like that. She couldn't land a single meaningful hit!"

Elen nodded in agreement, though her expression carried analytical appreciation rather than simple excitement. "Your control was exceptional. You could have ended it much faster, but you systematically broke down her capabilities instead. That showed more skill than a quick knockout would have."

"Thanks," I acknowledged. "Seraphina's strong, but she isn't invincible."

"Still," Kael added, "the way you fought was amazing. You made a legendary bloodline heir look... ordinary."

Before I could respond, Emmet joined our group. His expression was its usual stoic mask, but I detected subtle frustration in his body language.

"I wanted to fight her," he stated bluntly.

I nodded in understanding. Emmet had lost a 1v1 against Seraphina earlier in the term - one of his rare defeats that had clearly bothered him despite his outward composure. He'd been training specifically to get a rematch and prove the loss was a fluke or that he'd improved enough to overcome her Valkyrie advantages.

"I know," I said. "But she's not going to make it to where you could fight her now. She's out of the competition."

Emmet's jaw tightened slightly - the only visible sign of disappointment. "You eliminated my opportunity for redemption."

"Sorry about that. But the bracket randomization put us against each other."

"You'll get other strong opponents," I assured him. "Kyle's still in the tournament. So are several other Elite-class students with serious capabilities."

"True." Emmet's expression shifted to something resembling anticipation. "And you're still in as well."

The implication was clear - he wanted to face me in the tournament, to test himself against someone who'd just demonstrated such dominant performance.

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