F-Rank Soul Eater-Chapter 139: Taking advantage of nobility.

Soren stood at the center of the platform, eyes on the opposite corner.

His opponent was yet to arrive.

In the stand, certain individuals focused their gaze on him.

One of them was Li, his Lion heart party members surrounded him in a close tight circle.

Other cadets avoided the seats close to this group.

But of course, his party was not the only people of strength that had their eyes on the battle in the platform.

Some other strong and influential parties were involved.

One in particular, led by a girl with a black fade hair style, tunic torn at the sleeves, had her gaze focused on Soren.

And on yet another part of the arena was teenager so round, he was probably the only other person as far as Pencil in the entire school.

Even now, his party members fed him cake as he enjoyed the show.

Cynthia patted Soren’s back. "Soooreeennn!"

"Don’t worry, big girl. I’m going to be alright." He replied with confidence.

She nodded, and with heavy step, she left the platform to take her seat.

A lot cadets looked at her weirdly as she took up seat space that should have been for two people.

There were whipers of course.

And then he came.

Goldsworth did not merely walk into the arena—

He arrived.

The lights went dim all around the arena, except for the entrance directly opposite Soren.

And then more lights of varying colors lit up, mostly gol, and focused on the entrance.

Goldsworth stepped through alone, boots striking the stone with deliberate, unhurried confidence. His Black Tunic was pristine, every fold sharp, every insignia catching the light as if the arena itself had adjusted its focus for him.

And it did.

The little bird, ever resting on his shoulder, added an extra touch to his uniqueness.

Faint music played in the background, a mix of cello and enchanting voices of a choir.

And then he stepped forward. Every step would make the runes under his feet to light up.

Some nobles in the crowd smiled knowingly—especially the ladies.

They mused, and a few threw flowers as they called his name with affection.

"Goldsworth!"

"Goldsworth!"

"Goldsworth!"

His hair fluttered in the air and he winked.

A few girls fainted with moans.

And Soren—his face tightened with cringe.

He really could not understand how this guy always managed to make him wish he could just dive into a black hole.

Goldsworth reached the edge of the platform and stopped again, surveying the arena like property already owned. His gaze skimmed the audience first—acknowledging admiration where it existed, dismissing the rest—before finally settling on the center.

On Soren.

A smile tugged at his lips. Not wide. Not cruel.

Practiced.

As if this battle were not a challenge, but a formality.

He spread his arms slightly, red soul energy flaring just enough to draw a sharp intake of breath from the stands.

"A–rank." Many whispered.

"Let’s make this quick," he said lightly, his voice carrying without effort. "I’d like to put you in your place."

"In my place!?" Soren hissed, "it seems three kowtows are not enough for you to remember what the ground smells like. Don’t worry, I’ll ensure you do."

Goldsworth frowned. The shame that soren made him suffer only a few days ago was still fresh in his mind.

That was why he had declared this battle. He was going to regain his honor no matter what.

At such a time, a memory flashed in his head.

Little Goldsworth looked through the window of his extremely broad, and luxurious room.

It was raining cats and dogs outside. However, they were people bowing at the gate, begging, tears masked by the rain drops.

"Father," little Goldsworth called. "Why are the commoners begging outside our home? They have been out there for three days now."

A huge broad hand rested on his shoulder—every finger adorned with crystal rings of different colors.

"Because, that is fate, my son. Nobles are born to touch the sky, and Commoners to gravel on the ground.

Never forget that. It is your destiny."

Goldsworth frowned tightened even more, fists molding in anticipationof the battle.

’To think that I was the one gravelling on the ground. I’ll show you who touches the sky—Damn commoner.’

[Golden Finger: I’ll donate

5000 points to Goldsworth if he makes the Commoner trash Kiss his noble feet.]

[Cliff Hanger: I’ll donate 700 points to Goldsworth if he makes the Commoner trash Kowtow 100 times to him]

[Chandelier lights: I’ll donate 100 points to Goldsworth if he makes the Commoner trash beg on the ground.]

[... 500 points]

[...7000 points]

Soren’s eyes subconsciously traced the Sponsor chats overhead.

During battles like this, the chats were displayed for all to see.

One could say that it was type of motivation.

No doubt, Goldsworth’s sponsors were mad about what happened the last time.

Quiet a lot of them were watching.

Just then, a familiar handle appeared.

[Madam Wawa: I’ll donate 20 points to Soren if he wins]

Awwwn.

Soren could not help but feel touched. Compared to what Goldsworth sponsors were giving, it was small. She clearly did not have a lot.

Soren remembered that Devon the lawyer had said that his fees was not small.

She had taken that burden that time, and was still showing support now.

Soren felt like he owed her one. They had to be a way he could pay her for all this faith she had in him—especially considering he almost ran away with his ex girlfriend.

His eyes searched the chats, but he dud not seem Lady Quiet.

Then again, she was a born noble, and their circles were very touchy on the subject of commoners putting themselves above a noble.

Like Madam Wawa, everyone knew who Lady Quiet was.

But Soren knew that the blind Lady Vera was watching.

The holographic display board went bright with their names.

Goldsworth: A-Rank.

First-year cadet.

Soren: F-rank

First-year cadet.

"Once I win this match, I am taking my room back. And I’ll make you bow to me." Goldsworth stated.

Instantly, his words were displayed on the holographic screen above.

However, under Soren’s name, there was nothing.

Soren paused, eyes brightening as he came to a realization.

Wait a minute, I can make requests?

The thought of blatantly asking for points crossed his mind.

After all, Goldsworth was a wealthy noble, he must be loaded.

There was also his generous sponsors.

Soren remembered Tommy’s words.

The academy was a way cadets could gather enough points that would secure their futures as Soul Mecha pilots.

That was why points were so important.

As of this moment, Soren had a little over Ninty thousand coins.

While this meant that he was very rich for a freshly resumed cadet, it was nowhere the basic requirement which was a million points for building a Soul Mecha.

With how things had progressed in his life so far, Soren was proud to say that he had foresight.

Why wait for five years to make one million points when he could simply do it now?

A devilish grin appeared on one side of his face.

He raised a hand, voice loud for all in the arena to hear. "Ahhh... this is not enough."

~Silence.

Then the murmurs.

"This is not enough, what the hell is he talking about?"

"I don’t know..."

Cough...

Soren continued. "I am no longer interested in the fight."

"WHAT!?" The entire crowd echoed.

"He’s he joking?" The fellow as fat as Pencil asked, cake falling from his lips in shock.

Even Li frowned.

And the girl with torn sleeves focused her gaze. As if she was trying hard to see through Soren.

Meanwhile Goldsworth froze.

"What... what are uou saying?" He asked, words failing him. "Are you Forfeiting the match?"

Soren looked at him—dead in the eyes. And then he nodded.

Soren could have sworn that he saw the noble boy’s world crack.

But he continued. "You can have the room. I’m no longer interested."

Soren turned to leave.

However, he had barely taken a step when he heard Goldsworth rambling.

Soren smirked.

"How dare you? How can you insolent commoner trash say that? Do you know how hard I prepared for this?" Goldsworth bellowed. "Do you know how much promi..."

Soren stuck a finger in his ear, giving the look that he was not listening to Goldsworth’s useless rumbling.

Meanwhile, Polystar, who was watching from his wrist watch faceplamed.

"After everything I told that idiot. What is he doing now?"

The crowd in the arena booed Soren. Many called him a coward, a foolish clown. They said he was afraid.

Even the sponsors chats was in fiery rage. Many raining down curses on him.

However Soren did not care. In fact, the more annoyed they were, the better.

And then when the pitch seemed to reach his peak, he raised a hand again.

"I’ll fight, but only if you pay me..." he raised his fingers.

"Ten points?" Goldsworth subconsciously muttered.

"You’ll need to add a couple zeros to that." Soren grinned. "Ten thousand..."

The Arena froze.