With the ninth match finished, the medics rushed Kenzo to emergency care—he had suffered far too many severe wounds.
In another room of the infirmary, Raiden watched the match come to an end. His body was still recovering from his own fight, and his wound was no longer critical.
—You really did hold on long enough to win, Kenzo… —he murmured with a faint smile.
Matteo was also carried toward the infirmary; his mark faded away, and he let out a soft sigh of relief. When a mark deactivates, it feels as though an immense weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
Naeris and Arien stood holding their signs, their faces etched with worry for Kenzo.
—Will Haruki be all right? —Haruki asked, his voice thick with fear and concern.
Kaien's lips curved into a gentle smile, and he raised a hand to stroke the top of Haruki's head.
—Yes, he will be fine. Kenzo is incredibly strong. He can endure this and more.
Varek nodded in agreement. Haruki broke into a wide smile, choosing to trust Kaien's words.
Naeris and Arien's confidence returned as well. They sat down on the edge of the stands.
—Besides, look on the bright side! —Naeris grinned playfully— He'll be in the infirmary, so he'll be able to run into Rika.
—You're right! We'll have to keep an eye on him, otherwise they'll be all cozy and hugging each other! —Arien exclaimed, wrapping her arms around herself in an exaggerated embrace.
Naeris burst out laughing, but she agreed wholeheartedly—they definitely needed to keep watch.
On the far side of the stands, Floch let out a long breath.
—What a match… Kenzo surpassed every single one of my expectations.
—What actually happens when you defeat someone bearing a Mark? —Terrmomix asked, sounding only half-interested.
—No matter which Mark it is, defeating one is a tremendous achievement. It proves you can stand as their equal… or rather, that you've drawn close to their level.
—If Matteo had activated his second Mark, he would have won, wouldn't he?
—Without a doubt. Kenzo managed to face and endure the first form, but against both… the fight would have ended far sooner.
—Then why didn't Matteo activate the second one?
—I don't know. I think he was trying to see something in Kenzo. But that doesn't take away from what he accomplished. He defeated a Marked warrior—that is the undeniable truth.
The sun began to set slowly over the academy, painting the sky in hues of dusk.
The arena was once again ready for the next bout!
—Ahem… ahem… —The announcer cleared his throat into the microphone— The moment has arrived.
THE MOMENT OF THE NINTH MATCH… AND QUITE POSSIBLY THE MOST HIGHLY ANTICIPATED BOUT OF THIS ENTIRE THIRD ROUND!
—LET US INTRODUCE THESE COMBATANTS WITH THE GRANDEUR THEY DESERVE!
The gate on the right slammed open. A red carpet rolled all the way to the center of the arena.
—OUR FIRST COMPETITOR OF THIS MATCH! HE BEARS A NAME THAT CARRIES POWER AND STANDING! THE THIRD MARK!
The sound of steady, confident footsteps echoed throughout the stadium, growing louder with every passing second.
—HE WHO COMMANDS THE LIGHTNING! HE WHO NEVER BOWS HIS HEAD AND NEVER RETREATS! REGARDED BY MANY… AND BY HIMSELF… AS THE PRINCE ABOVE ALL PRINCES! THE FUTURE KING OF CHINA!
At last, from the shadows of the gate, his figure emerged.
—LIANG ZHENHAO!
Prince Liang stepped forward with the unshakable confidence that had always defined him. His self-assured smile had not faltered for even a moment.
—AND NOW… OUR SECOND COMBATANT!
The gate on the left swung open with force.
—THE SECOND MARK, AND THE STRONGEST OF THEM ALL! HE NEEDED NO FAMOUS NAME TO STAND OUT… INSTEAD, HE MADE HIS OWN NAME ONE WORTHY OF RECOGNITION!
A dry wind swept through the arena, stirring up dust in its wake.
—HE WHO DOMINATES THE WIND! HE NEEDS NO BOASTFUL WORDS—THE SIGHT OF HIS THREE MARKS ALONE MARKS HIM AS A TRUE THREAT!
THE BOY WHO HAS DEFEATED EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO EVER DOUBTED HIM, TIME AND TIME AGAIN!
Slowly, his form emerged from the shadows.
—ZEIK MORVEN!
Zeik stepped forward with steady purpose. His smile was easy and unforced—no arrogance, no posturing. Just a focused gaze, and perhaps… a spark of genuine excitement.
They stood face to face, their eyes locked, only a few meters apart.
—MARK AGAINST MARK… COMRADE AGAINST COMRADE… FRIEND AGAINST FRIEND!
LET THE NINTH MATCH BEGIN!
—Finally, our turn has come —Zeik said calmly, his smile never fading.
—About time. After Matteo's fight, my blood's been boiling with anticipation —Liang replied.
—Typical of the great Prince of China —Zeik teased, his tone lighthearted.
—Oh, that's hardly my fault that you don't get fired up the way I do.
—And who said I wasn't?!
Liang blinked, looking surprised.
—Huh? Really? I always figured you were like Kael—only fighting when you have to, no feelings involved —he tapped a finger thoughtfully against the corner of his mouth.
—You're not wrong—I don't enjoy fighting just for the sake of it. But… when I'm standing against someone I'm not sure I can beat? I can't deny that my hands are already itching to draw my blade.
—Well, I'll be —Liang let out a short, amused laugh— We've known each other this long and I never knew that side of you.
—Now you do. I'll admit—I actually do enjoy a good fight…
Zeik glanced back briefly toward the stands.
—And besides—isn't it strange? Two Marks falling in this very same round, one right after another.
—It is. And I wouldn't have it any other way —Liang answered— There's no one else I'd rather fight. No one but you.
—I feel exactly the same. This isn't going to be like one of our training sessions. We fight for the right to keep moving forward —Zeik raised his fist to chest height— So let's not hold anything back.
Liang grinned.
—Now that's what I wanted to hear! No holding back at all!
He cracked his knuckles.
—Enough talking. Let's give them a performance worthy of two Marked warriors.
—Agreed —Zeik nodded— So how do you want to start this, Liang?
—Like you said—this isn't practice. Let's show them what we're really made of —Liang held up one finger— We each unleash our strongest attack, and we take the other's strike head-on.
—Bold. I like it —Zeik replied, intrigued.
—Once we've taken each other's best shot, then we move into technique and exchange blows. Because I know you won't go down—not even to my strongest attack.
—Damn right I won't. And neither will you. A prince does not fall so easily.
—It would be an insult to everyone watching if I did. And the greatest prince of all simply cannot afford to lose.
—Fair enough —Zeik tilted his head— So who strikes first?
—You go first. Let me see just how much stronger you've gotten during all that solo training.
—Alright then… —Zeik fell silent for a moment, then rested his hand on the hilt of his katana— Just know this… I've been refining this particular technique for a long time now.
Liang smiled—confident, unafraid.
—I think I already know which one you mean.
In one fluid motion, Zeik drew his katana completely and raised it high overhead.
—WIND ART!
He swept the blade downward in a powerful, wide arc, slicing cleanly through the air as if parting the sky itself.
—HEAVEN-RENDING GALE!
From that invisible rift, a massive blade of compressed wind descended toward Liang, carrying devastating force.
Liang looked up, straight into the oncoming attack.
—Wow… you really weren't exaggerating. That's far bigger than before —he said, equal parts impressed and exhilarated. He made no move to draw his own blade or raise a defense.
The instructors quickly raised the protective barrier, shielding the spectators in the stands from the blast.
Zeik's attack struck Liang head-on. The force shattered a large section of the arena floor, and thick smoke billowed outward, swallowing everything in its path.
Zeik stood calmly, still wearing that same steady smile. He had already told him—one attack alone would never be enough.
Slowly the smoke began to clear, revealing Liang standing slightly hunched forward, using his still-sheathed katana to support his weight against the ground.
His breathing was quickened but not ragged. Blood trickled down over his right eye and across other parts of his body—deep cuts left by the sheer force of the wind.
Even so, his expression hadn't changed. That proud, unshakable smile remained firmly in place.
—Wow… —he spat a mouthful of blood— You certainly weren't lying. You've improved immeasurably —Liang's eyes shone with genuine respect and awe.
—Told you —Zeik met his gaze, unyielding— Now… it's your turn.
Liang straightened himself slowly.
—Yes. It is —He drew his katana as well— Then allow me to show you something just as impressive.
—I'm waiting.
—LIGHTNING ART…
Dark storm clouds gathered instantly above the arena, thunder roaring wildly overhead.
Liang raised his katana horizontally across his chest, the tip aimed directly at Zeik.
—THUNDER DRAGON!
From within the storm, a bolt of lightning coiled into the shape of a great dragon and crashed down from the heavens with a deafening roar, surging straight toward him.
Zeik looked upward and smiled. Just as Liang had done, he made no move to evade or block.
The impact rocked the arena, bursting into a web of crackling electricity that bathed everything in brilliant blue light for several seconds.
When the light faded, Zeik stood exactly where he had been. His skin bore faint burns, but his expression remained as steady as ever. He lifted his gaze to meet Liang's.
—Worthy of a prince indeed…
Without another word, they lunged toward one another. Their katanas met with a ringing clash, their faces mere centimeters apart.