A few moments ago, Vaelith’s entire body had tensed as he felt a sharp, suffocating killing intent cutting through the air like a blade.

His instincts had taken over, forcing him to leap backward just as the cold wind hit the place he was standing.

Then he saw him.

Alex.

His silver-white hair shone under the sun, and his blue eyes exuded a chilling cold that sent a strange chill down Vaelith’s spine.

He hadn’t realized it, but the moment their eyes met, he had taken a step back in alarm.

Alex, however, stood before Fenna, talking to her with his back facing her. He talked to her while his eyes were locked into Vaelith’s golden eyes, as if completely disregarding the guy and daring him to make a move.

The whole colosseum seemed frozen by the coldness in his eyes, his expression masking something ominous.

Vaelith, however, narrowed his eyes, scanning Alex cautiously.

For him, who had lived a long life, getting a read on people just by looking at them wasn’t that big of a deal.

So he could tell there was something different about Alex.

Unlike the students Vaelith had toyed with, this one didn’t seem shaken by his presence. He didn’t look uncertain. He didn’t even seem remotely concerned about what had just happened.

No, Alex made him hesitant to move—something Vaelith was sure even teachers of this academy wouldn’t be able to do—as he stood there with the quiet stillness of a storm just before it broke.

The murmurs of the audience swelled.

“Alex…? Wait, if it’s him—”

“We might actually have a chance.”

“Remember when he took down that mid-star connection realm Wyvern by himself?”

“That’s right! That was insane! He made it look easy.”

“But look at him… He looks even angrier than back then.”

A few students visibly shuddered, recalling another moment from the past—when Alex had beaten someone into a bloodied mess. Even that day, his expression hadn’t been this dark.

Vaelith listened to the murmurs, clicking his tongue.

This wasn’t good. He didn’t care much about their opinions, but if they believed in this guy…

Zahara, Alex’s lover, leaned forward in her seat, her arms crossed, her usually playful smirk nowhere to be seen. “I haven’t seen that look on his face in a while…”

Gurrak nodded, his arms crossed. “That’s the face he makes when he’s decided someone needs to be erased.”

Aelora sighed, shaking her head. “He was probably holding himself back out of respect for Fenna, but the moment that bastard crossed the line…”

Mira, on the other hand, said nothing. She simply stared at Alex’s back, her fingers clenched together in silent worry.

She had noticed it earlier—his gritted teeth and his tightened fists. He had been forcing himself to stay put to honor Fenna’s fight.

But when Vaelith had spoken those last words… when he had dared to try what he did…

Alex had moved before anyone could react.

Vaelith, after thinking for a while, exhaled sharply, pushing aside his thoughts. It didn’t matter.

The brat looked strong, sure, but that didn’t mean he was on his level. He was just another arrogant student of this academy.

More importantly, the aura he felt from Alex was that of star formation. He didn’t believe he would be defeated by someone in the star-formation realm without some shady trick.

And when it came to dealing with shady things, he himself wasn’t one to lose.

But then something small flew towards him.

Reacting on instinct, Vaelith caught it, his senses instantly analyzing the object.

A vial.

A high-grade healing potion.

The audience fell into hushed confusion while Vaelith scowled at the potion. He was about to demand an explanation when Alex’s voice rang out, sharp and cold.

“Heal up.”

Vaelith’s brow twitched.

Alex’s eyes bore into him, emotionless, distant, as if he were merely stating an obvious fact. “I don’t want to hear excuses later about how you weren’t in your best form.”

A ripple of unease spread through the crowd.

Vaelith’s fingers curled around the potion, irritation flaring in his gut.

Was this bastard mocking him? No killing intent had been laced into the throw—meaning Alex wasn’t attacking.

He was genuinely offering him a chance to recover.

Before he could formulate a response, Alex spoke again, his voice laced with biting sarcasm.

“What’s wrong? Bad ears? Or did Fenna knock you around so hard you’ve lost a few brain cells?”

The Colosseum fell into stunned silence.

A moment passed.

Then laughter.

Soft chuckles. Low murmurs of amusement.

“Are we going to see the Maneater again?!”

“Damn, I’m getting excited for some reason.”

“Man, look at that guy’s face. He looks like a monkey!”

“I bet his ass is burned black by now!”

Alex wasn’t just standing up to Vaelith. He was outright dissing him.

Vaelith’s smirk twitched, turning into something that didn’t look like a smirk anymore. His fingers clenched around the vial, his body rigid.

Alex didn’t stop yet; he tilted his head slightly, his eyes still cold. “Or maybe all that dodging has you dizzy? I get it. Hard to keep your balance when all you’ve been doing is running your mouth.”

The amusement in the crowd grew.

“HAHAHAHAAH!”

“Yeah! That rat-like bastard never faced President Fenna head-on!”

“Yeah, man. Now that I think about it, I heard Alex say something about Fenna being sick.”

“So, she survived against this bastard while being sick and having a bad match-up?”

“She deserves to be the president, man!”

As he heard those comments, Vaelith’s golden eyes darkened, but he didn’t lash out.

He had enough experience of the world that something like that, despite angering him, wouldn’t force him to jump in rage.

Instead, he scoffed, flipping the healing potion between his fingers before tossing it aside. “I don’t need your pity.”

The real reason for him doing that, however, was because he was suspicious of Alex.

What if he had mixed some poison in the potion?

He simply reached into his storage ring, pulling out his own potion. “I’ll make you regret ever being born in this world.”

He downed the vial in one swift motion, the liquid glowing faintly as it coursed through his body, mending his wounds instantly.

Alex remained unfazed.

“You say that yet you are drinking the potion.” He adjusted his grip on Fenna, carefully moving toward the arena’s edge and handing her off to a nearby medic.

“Just admit that you can’t defeat me. No need to put up a strong front,” Alex said while rolling his shoulders.

Vaelith, on the other hand, had already made a move.

“That mouth of yours…” In a snap, he was already a meter away from Alex, his fist clenched, moving toward Alex’s jaw with a breakneck speed. “I will make you regret opening it—”

His words, however, were cut short as Alex exhaled, rolling his neck slightly.

Then, in a movement so casual it almost seemed lazy—SLAP!

The next thing Valeith knew was pain as his body hurtled through the air before crashing high up into the barrier covering the arena.

BAAM!

“Oh, yeah?” Alex’s voice echoed through the quiet stadium, his hand outstretched as he stared at Vaelith sliding down the barrier. “How are you going to do that?”

The crowd shivered as the scene reminded them who Alex was, and after a few seconds of stillness, the crowd exploded.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep