F-Rank Soul Eater-Chapter 145: Bow Again

Soren had always thought of Goldsworth as excessive.

The way he walked, talked, flicked his hair, and looked at people like he was above them.

At first Soren had thought it was the natural disposition of nobles.

But he had met other nobles.

Polystar, Bloodshine, Captain Scarvguard.

While each of them were still weird in their own unique way, Goldsworth was just on another level.

If the world did not revolve around him, then it should crash and burn.

It was only in this battle Soren understood why.

After all, it was also the same reason he could not use Goldsworth’s Shade.

A curse.

While Soren had seen different types of curses like Vinegar’s purple skin, Tommy’s baldness, and Boyed’s disgust, he had never seen a curse like this.

Then again, there was no true manual for how curses appeared as a result of the bond with one’s Shade.

Some curses very dangerous, and prevented people from living normal lives, while some others were passive, and did not interrupt the individual’s life.

If curses came in all types and forms, then it was only natural for curses to also affect attitude, mental fortitude, and the perception of the world a person sees.

In the case of Goldsworth, it was his pride—gravely etched in his narcissistic behaviour.

Considering the fact that he was also a noble from a family with significant status, his curse further cemented his world view.

Further more, the Shade’s ability was tied to the curse.

In fact, Goldsworth’s attitude was his ability’s fuel.

This was the reason Soren could not use the Shade’s ability when he tried.

It was because he did not have such a pompous mindset.

Having come from grass, he saw the world in a more subtle humble light.

Furthermore, his experiences had further humble him—especially since he began absorbing the knowledge of the Discipline of Sorrow.

Goldsworth’s shade could not be fueled on humble.

As long as Goldsworth had his pride, he would remain an absolute formidable enemy.

After all, a selective mindset of one’s superiority was all he needed to keep his battle prowess afloat.

Unreachable.

Undeniable.

In this regard, the Goldsworth family, did an incredibly unbelievable job.

But this also created a weakness.

What would happen if Goldsworth’s mindset were to break?

What would happen if a sharper mind with years of battle experience were to expose his weakness for all to see?

Sorwn did not know much about Goldsworth, but he did know that the noble had bowed to him.

He knew that this was the reason Goldsworth had thrown out the Gauntlet challenge.

For Pride.

For Dignity.

This was the crack in Goldsworth’s mind Soren took advantage of.

In truth, if Goldsworth had not listened to Soren’s words and simply bathed in the adoration of the masses, he would have been alright.

However, like most teenagers, he cared.

He cared what other people were saying about him.

He cared what other people were thinking about him.

And because of his narcissistic behaviour he desired...

To be loved

By all.

This was his biggest weakness. He did not want a few. He did not want most.

He wanted all.

And so when Soren spoke and the audience began to whiper in hushed tones, his ears picked it.

And it shook his pride.

And in turn, it affected his ability.

Goldsworth was not weak in strength. His lack of experience of the bigger world made him weak in mental fortitude.

This was advantage Soren won’t let go.

He gritted his teeth.

Soren moved.

Pain screamed through his ribs the moment he forced his body forward. His vision blurred at the edges. His chest felt like it had been split open and stitched back wrong.

He ignored it.

One step.

Then another.

Closing the distance as fast as he could.

Across from him, Goldsworth didn’t advance.

He tried to adjust, but his mind was already a mess.

The golden threads trembled around him, tightening defensively — but not smoothly.

They twitched.

Static flickered along their surface.

"Stay down... Stay down," Goldsworth snapped. "Know your place."

Soren laughed — breath hitching.

"My place?" he echoed.

Another step.

The arena watched in breathless silence.

"You mean the ground?" Soren asked softly. "Funny. That’s where you were... its were I’ll leave you."

Goldsworth’s aura flared.

The threads brightened — then flickered. As the whip reached for Soren.

"Shut up."

Soren’s voice sharpened.

"Did your family clap for you afterward?"

A pulse of red fed into the strings — unstable as the whip fell.

"Did they say, ’Good job kneeling, Goldsworth’?"

The threads spasmed.

Goldsworth’s breathing grew uneven.

"I did what was necessary. Li is..." he said tightly.

"Of course you did," Soren replied instantly. "That’s what cowards say."

A ripple ran visibly through the golden web.

Soren saw it.

And he pressed harder.

"You call me trash," he continued, advancing despite the fire in his lungs. "But when it mattered—"

Another step.

"You folded."

Goldsworth raised his hand.

The threads coiled violently.

"If I activate my First Form," Goldsworth warned, voice rising, "this ends. Instantly."

His eyes were no longer calm.

They were strained.

Soren didn’t slow.

"Then do it," he said.

Another step.

"Prove you need it. No... Prove you can."

The words hit harder than any blade.

The golden threads snapped tighter around Goldsworth’s frame — but they were reacting late.

Delayed.

Unstable.

"Do it," Soren repeated quietly. "Show them you can’t win a mere F-rank without the first form of an A-rank."

Goldsworth’s pupils trembled.

"I don’t need—" he was confused.

Soren vanished from where he stood.

Pain tore through his ribs as he forced every reinforced muscle to obey.

He appeared inside the radius of the golden threads before they could fully reweave.

Goldsworth’s eyes widened.

Too late. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Soren leaned in, voice low enough that only Goldsworth could hear.

"You already knelt once."

Soren’s fist drove forward.

"Bow again."

CRACK.

The punch landed flush against Goldsworth’s face.

The unstable threads shattered outward like fractured glass as the impact connected.

Goldsworth’s head snapped sideways.

His body lifted off the ground and hurtled across the platform, golden strands tearing behind him like broken wires.

He crashed.

Rolled.

Skidded.

Silence devoured the arena.

Soren remained standing where he struck, arm trembling, blood dripping steadily from his chest.

His vision swam, but he was smiling...