The Extra's Rise-Chapter 350: Crown Challenge (12)

Lucifer, Jack, and I stood in a triangular formation at the heart of the Crown Challenge arena, each of us measuring the others with calculated precision. The distant sounds of combat from the four girls' battle created a fitting backdrop to our own impending clash.

'Arthur, do you feel confident?' Luna asked in my mind, her qilin presence cool and steady at the edges of my consciousness.

'Of course,' I responded, feeling my heart accelerate with a familiar rhythm. The anticipation of genuine challenge hummed through my veins, awakening something I'd kept carefully controlled since arriving at Mythos Academy.

The danger of battle. The primal thrill of facing worthy opponents.

How long had it been since I'd felt this particular tension? This electric certainty that miscalculation meant defeat? Too long, perhaps.

Jack rolled his shoulders, flames already dancing between his fingertips. His trademark smirk couldn't quite hide the focus in his eyes. "Been waiting for this since orientation, Nightingale. Let's see if your tactics work when you're the one getting hit."

Lucifer remained silent, his emerald eyes betraying nothing as he assumed a perfect starting position. His longsword—identical in length to mine but with subtle differences in balance and guard design—reflected the ethereal light of the Crown at the center of the chamber.

I adjusted my grip, settling into a stance that appeared casual but would allow for immediate response. "Shall we begin, then?"

Jack answered with a testing volley of flame darts—fast but lacking his usual destructive power. They splashed harmlessly against my mana shield as I cataloged his casting speed, trajectory choices, and energy efficiency.

Lucifer used the momentary distraction to close distance, his blade moving in a textbook-perfect arc that forced me to parry rather than dodge. The clash of our swords sent a metallic ring echoing through the chamber. I could feel him measuring my strength, my reaction time, my technique.

"Competent," he murmured, disengaging smoothly before I could counter. "But predictable."

I smiled at the deliberate provocation, responding with a sequence of three strikes—each intentionally telegraphed to observe how he would respond. As expected, his defenses were impeccable, no wasted movement, no unnecessary flourish.

Jack circled around, forcing me to divide my attention. His second attack carried more weight—a spiral of concentrated heat that required actual effort to disperse. "Stop holding back," he called, genuine excitement creeping into his voice. "We all know you're sandbagging."

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"Patience," I replied, stepping into a flanking position that forced them to adjust their formations. "We have time."

The dance continued for several minutes—probing attacks, measured defenses, calculated retreats. None of us committed fully, each saving our true capabilities for when they would provide decisive advantage. Jack's flames grew progressively hotter but remained controlled. Lucifer's swordplay increased in complexity but retained perfect efficiency. My own techniques revealed just enough to maintain their interest without exposing my core strategies.

I launched a counterattack that forced Lucifer into a defensive sequence.

Jack took advantage of my commitment, unleashing a sheet of flame that separated me from Lucifer. "Enough warm-up," he declared, genuine power now gathering around him as the temperature in our section of the arena rose significantly. "Time to see what the top-ranked student is really made of."

He punctuated his statement with a concentrated fireball that carried enough destructive force to breach standard defensive barriers. Rather than block or evade, I stepped into the attack, reading its energy pattern through enhanced Soul Vision. With precise timing, I redirected its momentum, adding my own mana to the equation.

The modified fireball curved around me and headed toward Lucifer, who dispersed it with a precise slash of his sword, his eyes narrowing at my technique.

"Interesting," he said.

I felt it then—the final pieces falling into place. Luna's energy merging seamlessly with mine, no longer distinct consciousnesses working in tandem but a unified system operating with perfect synchronization. The culmination of months of practice and meditation.

Jack launched himself forward, abandoning ranged attacks for a surprise close-quarters assault, his fist wreathed in concentrated flame. Fast—faster than he'd shown previously—but now I could see the movement before it happened, reading the subtle shifts in his mana flow, the microscopic tells in his musculature.

I pivoted at the last possible moment, my body moving with newfound precision. The crescent kick connected cleanly with Jack's liver, delivered with exactly the force required to incapacitate without causing lasting damage.

His eyes widened in genuine surprise as his momentum faltered, his body responding involuntarily to the perfectly placed strike.

"Assimilation is finally complete," I said quietly, more to myself than to my opponents.

As Jack struggled to regain his balance, my mind suddenly pulled inward, the present battle fading as memories surfaced with vivid clarity.

After losing Emma, I wanted to get stronger.

I spent the majority of the next year learning as many martial arts as possible. Not just studying them—immersing myself in them. Kickboxing, Muay Thai, Kyokushin Karate, Jeet Kune Do... I absorbed them all while systematically rebuilding my body to create a fighting style uniquely my own. A system engineered for maximum efficiency with minimum energy expenditure.

Sweat dripped down my face as I launched punch after punch, each one flowing seamlessly into the next. There was mathematical precision in the way I combined different styles into the most effective techniques I could devise. Each movement optimized through countless repetitions and refinements.

"Enough," a voice snapped me out of my trance-like state. I stopped immediately, catching the rebounding punching bag with an outstretched palm.

"Master," I greeted him, my breathing controlled despite the intensity of my training.

"I told you that you don't need to call me Master," he responded as he examined the bag, noting the deformation where my strikes had repeatedly landed with perfect consistency. "Your fighting style has already neared perfection, Arthur. The only thing holding you back is your growing body."

"Yes," I nodded, accepting his assessment. "I was able to combine your CQC and Jeet Kune Do teachings perfectly, Master."

He turned toward me, his expression softening in a way I rarely witnessed. "But... you know that it doesn't matter, right?"

"Master?" I questioned, though I already anticipated what he would say.

"I am one of the best martial artists in the world, but against a trained soldier with a pistol, I would die as long as I don't have the element of surprise or he isn't too close to me," Master sighed, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "That is merely the truth. Pursuing martial arts for strength is fine... but it won't get you the results you want."

"My results..." I muttered, the image of Emma falling flashing unbidden through my mind.

"In the end, it won't be possible for you to beat them," he explained, his tone gentle but firm. "When I saved you against those three in the rain, I was lucky that I attacked the one person with the gun first, and despite being trained, they were tired and underestimated me. Otherwise, I would have died."

I clenched my fists at his words, knowing their truth but rejecting their finality.

"This isn't a world of fantasy," he said, placing a calloused hand on my shoulder. "I don't think this is useless... but this won't achieve what you want it to achieve."

He had been right, of course. In that world—my first world—the laws of physics were immutable, the limitations of the human body absolute. No amount of training could overcome the fundamental realities of existence.

But this world was different.

Here, mana flowed through every living thing, changing the very nature of what was possible. Here, a skilled practitioner could enhance their physical capabilities beyond what should be biologically possible, could manifest energy in forms that defied conventional understanding.

I had been confused at first about how to integrate my martial arts knowledge with mana. The existence of formalized "Arts" in this world—structured techniques passed down through generations and optimized for mana utilization—had initially pushed me toward focusing on swordsmanship, relying heavily on the memories and muscle patterns of this world's Arthur.

It had been the path of least resistance, allowing me to progress quickly through the academy rankings while I secretly worked to understand the fundamental principles of mana manipulation. I had compartmentalized my knowledge, keeping my Earth-based martial techniques separate from my mana utilization.

Until now.

The assimilation with Luna had been the final catalyst—the missing piece that allowed me to fully merge both aspects of my combat knowledge. Her qilin consciousness had helped me understand how to infuse mana into movements never designed for it, how to enhance techniques developed in a world without magic.

The crescent kick that had just connected with Jack's liver—that hadn't been a technique from any Grade art or formal mana manipulation method. It was CQC enhanced with precisely controlled mana flow, the energy directed through pathways I had mapped through meticulous experimentation.

My master had been right about one world, but completely wrong about this one. Here, the perfect martial technique enhanced by perfectly controlled mana could indeed overcome seemingly insurmountable odds. Here, I could create something unprecedented—a fighting style that combined the mathematical precision of Earth martial arts with the reality-altering potential of mana.

As Jack staggered backward from the impact, I could feel the new pathways solidifying in my consciousness, the integrated knowledge becoming instinctual rather than theoretical. This wasn't just about winning the Crown Challenge. This was about creating the foundation for everything that would follow.

The path to true power—and to fulfilling the promise I'd made over Emma's grave—was finally clear.