Chapter 126: His Brother’s Fight

The dirt in the arena absorbed the sweat falling from Gideon’s face while he tightened his grip on Lucian’s ribs.

Lucian kicked his legs in the empty air and his vision turned dark because oxygen stopped reaching his brain.

He had two seconds before passing out.

Lucian stopped kicking and dropped his right hand, grabbing his own left thumb with his fingers.

He twisted his thumb backward with brutal force.

CRACK!

The bone popped out of the joint.

Lucian grunted through clenched teeth and used the dislocated thumb to collapse the width of his left hand, pulling it straight up through the tight gap between Gideon’s massive forearm and his own chest.

The maneuver tore the skin off his knuckles but freed his left arm.

Lucian shoved his bleeding hand into Gideon’s face and drove two fingers into Gideon’s eyes.

“AGH!”

Gideon screamed and broke the hold by pure reflex, dropping Lucian onto the dirt.

Lucian hit the ground and rolled backward to put distance between them, gasping for air while clutching his chest.

His ribs ached and his dislocated thumb throbbed with blinding pain.

He stood up and reset his stance, ignoring the agony.

He stopped fighting as a privileged noble performing an assassination technique and started fighting as a cornered survivor.

Gideon wiped the dirt from his eyes and roared, charging forward with heavy thundering steps.

He swung a massive right hook.

Lucian ducked under the punch and stepped behind Gideon, kicking the back of Gideon’s right knee.

THUD!

Gideon stumbled but recovered his balance, spinning around and launching a backhand strike.

Lucian leaned backward and the fist missed his nose by a fraction of an inch.

Lucian moved in again, striking the nerve cluster on the inside of Gideon’s bicep with his knuckles.

The targeted strike paralyzed the muscle and Gideon’s arm dropped to his side, hanging useless for five seconds.

The combat turned long and dirty.

Gideon relied on raw unrefined strength, swinging heavy punches and grabbing at the air.

Lucian relied on evasion and stamina, dodging the heavy blows, circling the larger boy and striking specific pressure points to drain Gideon’s physical endurance.

They fought for ten continuous minutes.

The crowd in the bleachers went silent. They expected a quick magical execution and they got a brutal exhausting brawl in the dirt.

Gideon breathed with ragged gasps while sweat soaked his gray uniform and his movements became sluggish.

He threw a final desperate punch.

Lucian sidestepped the attack.

Gideon missed the target and the momentum carried his heavy body forward until his legs gave out from sheer exhaustion.

He dropped to his knees in the center of the arena.

He planted his hands in the dirt to keep from falling on his face, his chest heaving and his shoulders slumping.

He lacked the physical strength to stand back up.

He did not lose because of a final magical attack, his own body quit.

Gideon stared at the dirt and started to cry.

He didn’t cry from physical pain, he cried from pure unfiltered frustration.

This was his second total loss since the Church took his artificial Gift and now he failed the final evaluation.

He faced the southern war front and certain death.

Lucian stood three feet away, breathing hard and holding his dislocated thumb against his chest.

He walked over to Gideon.

Lucian did not raise his hand to strike the finishing blow, he reached out and offered his uninjured right hand to the kneeling boy.

Gideon stopped crying and looked up.

“Why didn’t you hit me when you had the chance?” Gideon asked with a cracked voice.

“Because you already lost,” Lucian answered between breaths. “Hitting someone who already fell is not winning. It is cruel.”

Gideon processed the words and wiped his face with his dirty sleeve.

“In this academy, cruelty is rewarded,” Gideon stated.

“Then let’s change the academy,” Lucian replied, keeping his hand extended.

Gideon stared at Lucian’s hand.

He reached up and grabbed it.

Lucian pulled Gideon to his feet.

The crowd in the stands remained silent.

Brother Thomas sat at the judges’ table and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his eyes without making a scene.

Father Marius sat stiff and rigid, gripping his cane and glaring at the two boys in the arena.

Elector Mordecai sat in the front row and stared at Gideon with absolute disgust.

A broken weapon held zero value to the Inquisition.

“Match over! Novice Lucian advances!” the referee shouted.

Raziel let go of the wooden railing and let out a long breath.

His current empathy registered a faint spark of actual relief because Lucian survived the match without exposing any fatal secrets.

Mordecai stood up from his chair in the front row.

He walked over to the judges’ table and leaned down next to Father Marius.

Raziel narrowed his eyes and focused his attention on the Elector.

[SKILL ACTIVATED: TRAUMA ACOUSTICS]

Raziel used the skill to amplify the ambient sound and isolate Mordecai’s voice from the background noise.

“Change the final bracket,” Mordecai whispered to the director. “Novice Raziel does not fight Caius. He fights”

The ambient noise in the arena spiked when a group of nobles cheered for Lucian and drowned out the final name.

Raziel missed the end of the sentence.

Marius nodded his head and stood up from his chair.

Mordecai walked back to the front row and sat down.

Marius walked up to the wooden podium and cleared his throat, looking out over the arena.

“Attention!” Marius announced with his voice echoing across the dirt ring.

The crowd quieted down.

“Due to the exceptional performance of Semifinalist Caius, he is exempt from the final match and receives the title of Quintile directly.”

Loud voices erupted from the bleachers because bypassing the final combat round broke every established rule of the Ascension Tournament.

Marius raised his hand to silence the crowd.

“The final match will proceed now,” Marius stated.

He paused and looked straight at Raziel standing by the tunnel.

“The final will be: Novice Raziel versus Novice Lucian.”

Total silence fell over the entire arena.

Lucian stood in the center of the dirt ring and turned his head, staring at Raziel.

Raziel stood by the wooden railing and stared back at Lucian.

Mordecai wanted them to fight each other, break their alliance and force Raziel to use his true power to survive.

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