Chapter 13: First in the Sparring Match
Rhain returned to Seris.
Seris let out a slow breath through her nose.
"You didn’t have to do that," she said quietly.
"I was making a statent this ti." Rhain casually leaned against his seat, "To let everyone know the consequences of touching or soone I care, and..."
"The statent is still incomplete!"
"What are you going to do now?" Seris asked with a frown.
It’s getting harder and harder for her to understand Rhain.
"Just wait, you will know in a while." Rhain said with a mysterious smile.
The sparring continued.
But it had fundantally changed in character.
What had begun as a competitive ranking event had devolved into sothing closer to a procession — a long, inevitable march toward a conclusion that everyone in the arena had already accepted.
Rhain Voss was going to win.
The question was no longer if. It was how badly will the others be hurt along the way.
Rhain’s na was called once more.
"Match two hundred and three. Rhain Voss."
He stood.
"Versus Dorian Fell."
"I surrender."
No hesitation.
You are going to be beaten very badly if you hesitated.
Maren’s eyes flickered.
"Winner, Rhain Voss."
Rhain sat back down.
"He made a reasonable decision."
"You sound disappointed."
Seris rolled her eyes at him.
.....
The top ten erged. Then the top five.
Then only two nas remained.
Rhain Voss.
And the first-ranked outer disciple.
"Final match," Maren announced. Her voice cut cleanly through the still air. "Rhain Voss."
"Versus Hallie Brooks."
A figure rose from the front row of the upper benches.
Hallie Brooks. Rank 1 of the Outer Sect.
She had claid the top position one year ago.
Both reached the platform simultaneously, taking positions on opposite sides of the ring.
Hallie studied him. Her amber eyes were calm.
But only she knew how complicated her feelings were.
She was ranked 1 just an year ago, and now she was going to lose to a guy who was once considered the weakest disciple of the sect.
She was not foolish enough to think she could win.
But she was Rank 1.
The position carried weight.
If the first-ranked disciple surrendered without a fight, the title itself beca aningless.
She could not simply walk away.
So she did the next best thing.
She spoke before Maren could signal the start.
"Rhain Voss."
Rhain tilted his head slightly.
"I’d like to propose a friendly match," Hallie said with as much calmness as she could gather.
A murmur rippled through the stands.
It was a smart request. By framing it as a friendly match, she preserved her dignity while simultaneously not being on Rhain’s opposite side.
It was, in Rhain’s assessnt, the most intelligent thing anyone had done in this arena all day.
Rhain looked at her for a mont.
He had no enmity with her.
"Fine," he said.
Hallie’s shoulders visibly relaxed by a fraction.
She shifted into her stance — a low, balanced guard with her weight distributed evenly between both feet, her hands positioned to intercept or deflect.
"Begin," Maren declared.
Rhain moved.
One step.
His right foot touched the stone, and in the sa motion, he dropped his shoulder and drove his open palm forward.
A concussive wave of compressed Essence erupted from his hand, and slamd into Hallie’s defensive layer like a battering ram hitting a paper wall.
Hallie was lifted entirely off her feet. She flew backward, sailing cleanly over the boundary line, and and landed cleanly on her back three feet beyond the platform’s edge.
She lay on the stone for a mont, staring at the sky.
The outco was expected.
Yet it still stung her pride that how easy it was done.
She was unhard, but decisively defeated.
She sat up slowly, brushed the dust from her robes, and looked at Rhain.
He stood at the center of the platform, his arms loose at his sides, his expression unchanged.
As if he hadn’t just unseated the number-one ranked outer disciple with a single casual strike.
Hallie exhaled. Then, surprisingly, she inclined her head — a small, dignified nod of acknowledgnt.
She had tested the waters.
The waters were an ocean.
Maren’s voice rang out across the arena.
"The sparring has concluded."
She paused.
"The winner of this month’s outer sect sparring, and the new Rank 1 of the Outer Sect — Rhain Voss."
Rhain Voss.
The boy who had been Rank 200 for three consecutive years.
The disciple who couldn’t cultivate.
Two hundred disciples sat in the stands, and every single one of them carried the sa question in their hearts.
What happened to this person?
What could possibly have changed a human being this fundantally, this completely, in the span of days?
Maren studied him from the platform’s edge. Her sharp eyes — eyes that had watched thousands of disciples co and go over decades of service — could not find an answer.
She had seen late bloors before.
She had seen hidden talents surfacing after years of suppression.
But none of those explanations fit Rhain.
Rhain stood on the platform, letting the announcent settle.
Then he spoke.
"Instructor Maren."
His voice was calm. Unhurried. It carried across the arena clearly so that everyone could hear.
Maren turned to him, one eyebrow raised slightly.
"As the ranked first outer disciple," Rhain said, "I have the right to challenge an inner disciple."
Maren’s eyes narrowed.
The rule existed. The top-ranked outer disciple could formally challenge any inner disciple to a duel. If the outer disciple won, they earned imdiate promotion to the inner sect.
However, no outer disciple has successfully exercised this right in the last ten years.
The Inner Sect are mostly at the seventh to ninth levels of the Essence Awakening Realm.
"That is correct," she said slowly. "It is within your right. Do you wish to challenge an Inner disciple?"
"Yes."
"I trust you understand the consequences."
Rhain looked at her. His dark grey eyes — those deep, abyssal irises that seed to swallow light itself was completely calm without an ripples.
Maren studied him for a long, asured beat.
"Na your opponent."
In the lower rows, Seris’s hand had found the edge of her seat, so tightly that her knuckles were white.
She already knew what he was going to say.
"I challenge Brennan Graves."
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