"I told you... Socrates can't defeat the Sky Pavilion Champion," one disciple muttered, folding his arms tightly across his chest as cold wind swept lightly across the arena grounds.
"It's surprising that he can even hold out on his own to this extent," another replied, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the chaotic battlefield ahead.
"The Son of Trueblood is really something else, but this is where it ends," a third disciple added, shaking his head slowly as if already convinced of the outcome.
"He should give up... I wonder if Merkules' offer still stands for him..." someone whispered, his tone laced with both doubt and curiosity.
"What— why is he closing his eyes?" another disciple suddenly exclaimed, leaning forward in disbelief as the sharp stone blades continued rushing through the air.
"Has he already given up?"
"Is he a fool?"
"The stone blades are already unto him, and he closed his eyes..." one disciple said, his voice trembling slightly as the whistling sound of incoming projectiles filled the air.
"He must be a....." The word paused in the mouth of the disciple as he watched the scene with an unbelievable expression, his jaw hanging slightly open.
"He's dodging the sea of blades..."
"He's dodging them calmly with his eyes closed..." one disciple said slowly, his voice filled with disbelief as the sight before him defied logic.
"How's he able to do that?"
"How's he able to see them?"
"Is he seeing them or listening to them?" voices overlapped in confusion as murmurs spread rapidly among the spectators.
"Look... When it seems as if the blade will touch him, he'll just twirl his body, and it will bypass him, and the one in front of him, he'll deflect with his axe..." a sharp-eyed disciple explained while pointing toward the battlefield, tracking Socrates' movements carefully.
"I know this skill he's performing..." Every eye turned to the individual who spoke. They were two figures standing side by side, putting on black cloaks that fluttered faintly under the gusting wind.
"Are you aware too?"
"Yes, Brother Somalia... I'm aware of this skill... It's surprising the boy could cultivate it at such a young age..." the second cloaked figure replied, his voice calm yet impressed.
"The boy seems to execute the skill perfectly well, Domalia... I think Merkules is in trouble..." Somalia added, narrowing his gaze as he focused intently on Socrates' fluid movements.
"I still don't think he can defeat Merkules, Brother Somalia."
"You really underestimate the power of the Sixth Senses..." Somalia replied quietly, his tone carrying quiet confidence.
That was it... Exactly what Socrates had awakened...
The Sixth Senses...
During his training in the artificial space created by the Gladiator King, he had dodged arrows for countless days, the endless field stretching into a hazy horizon while sharp projectiles sliced through the air from unseen directions.
Arrows he didn't know their direction or where they came from, each one whistling through the air with deadly precision, forcing his body into constant motion without rest.
He got to a point where he stopped relying on his eyes and started using his five sense organs, pushing his perception beyond what ordinary fighters could achieve.
His eyes to see....
His nose to smell...
His ear to listen.....
His skin to feel any slight change in the air, even the faintest shift in wind pressure brushing against his flesh.
His brain to react as fast as he can, processing every sensation at lightning speed while his muscles followed through with instinctive precision.
Using them simultaneously now opened an innate skill which is the Sixth Senses...
When activated, everything around him seemed to be overviewed by him, the world no longer appearing as scattered fragments but as one complete and unified awareness.
He wasn't just seeing front but all around him as he moved around with ease, his injured body weaving fluidly through danger despite the blood running down his skin.
First relying on his ear and skin before using his nose and then opening his eyes, and by the time he combined them all...
He weaved through the sea of blades and appeared right in front of Merkules, his movements smooth and unpredictable, leaving shattered stone fragments scattered behind him.
"What?" Merkules was surprised to see Socrates right in front of him, his pupils shrinking sharply in shock, and before he could even do anything, Socrates brought down his axe to his head, the motion swift and decisive.
Merkules scrambled to defend himself against the weapon that could claim his life, his hands tightening desperately around his sword hilt as he forced what little energy he could muster into the blade. The force Socrates exerted was too overwhelming that it destroyed the blade of Merkules and still continued forward, the shattered fragments of metal scattering outward in sharp, ringing bursts.
Merkules retreated instantly as he shifted back, his boots dragging across the cracked frost beneath him. Every attack he initiated disappeared as the backlash hit him hard, the recoil from his broken weapon sending violent tremors through his arms and chest.
"Oh shit... my energy has been exhausted.." He coughed out blood, dark red droplets splattering onto the cold surface below, as he quickly reached out to his inventory to pull out an energy pill, his fingers trembling slightly from fatigue, when Socrates appeared right in front of him with the axe raised up, looming like an unstoppable force.
"As if I'll let you do that..." The Son of Trueblood said to him as Merkules looked up, his voice cold and unwavering, carrying the certainty of someone who had already decided the outcome.
Fear gripped him at once as he saw the defiant look on Socrates' face, the blood-streaked youth standing tall despite his injuries, but that was the only thing he saw when next the blade came crashing on his head with great force that his skull cracked and his body was sent towards the ground with a great force, the sound of bone splitting echoing harshly across the silent battlefield.
But before his body could land on the ground, Socrates exerted strength into his leg as he smashed his front foot into his face, the impact producing a dull, crushing sound as the force sent Merkules catapulting away with great force while breaking some few teeth that scattered into the air.
The Sky Pavilion Champion skidded away as he crashed on the ground meters away and still bounced and crashed heavily before finally lying on his chest unconsciously, dust and frost rising faintly around his fallen form.
The members of the Sky Pavilion quickly rushed over to their fallen Champion, panic written clearly across their faces, while the disciples of the Earth Pavilion stared at Socrates as if they were staring at a savior... A miracle.....
They were silent... No one had just believed what had just happened, the battlefield now eerily quiet except for the faint sound of shifting footsteps and distant breathing.
The Son of Trueblood that always created miracles has yet created another miracle...
"I told you... You really underestimated the Sixth Senses.." Domalia said to his brother, his voice low but firm.
"He's sure tough... I can't wait to face him in combat," Somalia replied, his lips curling into a faint grin beneath the shadow of his hood.
"That's only if he can get into the Heaven Pavilion."
"Now that he had bed-ridden Merkules... What will happen next? I overheard Merkules has a fixed match with the Champion of the House Asphridus," Domalia added, his tone thoughtful as murmurs slowly began spreading again among nearby spectators.
"Probably if he can solidify his position as the Sky Pavilion Champion... He'll be chosen..." Domalia added before turning back, his dark cloak swaying slightly as he shifted his stance.
"Let's get out of here... it'll soon be crowded."
....
...
..
(Sky Pavilion — Merkules Chamber)
Socrates strolled into the chamber holding a bottle of energy drink, which he drank from now, putting on a new outfit after messing the old one up. The interior of the chamber was quiet and dimly lit, illuminated by soft blue lanterns fixed along the walls, their glow casting faint shadows across polished stone surfaces.
It was a classic outfit that was given to him by the Elder of the Earth Pavilion as a gift, neatly folded earlier but now worn firmly across his body.
Socrates loved the outfit a lot as it was his mechanical suit, the fitted segments aligning closely to his frame, giving him both flexibility and protection.
The very one he had worn during his conquest at the Bermutha Island, a memory that lingered faintly in his thoughts as he adjusted the sleeves.
The Elder told him that the suit had been repaired and was now at top peak. Socrates had worn it without hesitation and had traveled down to the Sky Pavilion to collect what was rightfully his in Merkules' room.
There was a storage box in the corner.... He opened it to see the golden token inside, resting quietly against the dark velvet interior. The energy it was bringing out was far greater than before, faint ripples of power pulsing outward like a slow heartbeat.
"Merkules seems to have been cultivating this token... Is that where he learnt the Sea Mountain Art... Let me see if I can learn too?"
He said to himself as he sat in a lotus position to learn the technique of the token, steadying his breathing while placing the glowing object carefully before him, but nothing came..
Hours passed, and still nothing happened, the golden token remaining silent despite the steady flow of his concentration. The faint glow around it flickered weakly, casting soft golden reflections across the stone floor as the quiet of the chamber deepened.
It was during nightfall he finally stood up and stopped cultivating it, his legs slightly stiff from remaining in the same posture for so long. Outside the chamber windows, the sky had darkened into deep shades of blue, and the glow of distant pavilion lanterns flickered like scattered stars.
"I guess I need to fix my meridian before I can use it..." Socrates stared at the golden token, turning it slowly in his hand as the image of Mr. Jaggers formed into his mind, the memory surfacing with a quiet sense of respect.
"Rest well, Senior.." He opened a space in his suit and put the token in it before zipping it back, securing it tightly against his chest where the mechanical seams locked into place with a faint clicking sound.
The token refused to be saved in the inventory... So that's the only place Socrates could think of to save it now, ensuring it remained close and protected.
"Now that I get what I want. Time to leave this place.." Socrates turned around and walked towards the exit, his boots producing soft echoes against the polished stone floor as he approached the heavy chamber door.
He grabbed the door knob and pulled it open just for his gaze to caught sight of an unexpected scene, his movement halting abruptly as tension returned to his posture.
Outside of the door was almost like a dozen of youth holding weapons and dressed in blue robes, staring angrily at Socrates, their faces tight with hostility and resentment.
Among them were the two lackeys of Merkules... Socrates recognized them instantly. They were the ones that followed Merkules into harassing him in the cafeteria the other day, their familiar sneers now twisted with open hostility.
"You dare humiliate our Champion and still want to claim his title... You shall pay with your blood." the lackey cried out as three disciples with swords jumped forward, rushing towards Socrates with a burst of energy, their robes flaring violently as they launched their attack.