Bloodline Evolution: I Can Choose Opposing Paths-Chapter 17: Sun City Regionals: Quarter-Finals (2)

Aren could only focus on how blue the sky was.

For a split second, he felt Leoghtless...

Ah, so I’m—

Then, something wrapped around his waist.

His body snapped sideways before he could even finish the thought.

Vines exploded upward from the shattered arena floor, wrapping tightly around his torso and arm. The sudden pull tore breath from his lungs as he was wrenched back toward the platform.

Aren slammed onto the edge with a rough sprawl. The impact rattled his bones, but he couldn’t care less.

The disqualification announcement never came.

Which meant this was still fair game.

He lay there for half a second before looking up.

"...Lily."

"I’ve got you," her voice came, strained but firm. "Don’t you dare fall."

Aren forced himself upright, one knee planting against the fractured stone as the vines finally receded.

Across the arena, Bennet clicked his tongue.

"Tch."

Annoyance was plastered all over his face, but Aren noticed something else. The individual pieces’ movements were slowed, some going in weird zig-zag lines while others looked like they were drunk.

So that’s how it works.

The Vermilion Cauldron wasn’t a single construct. It was dozens of little components. Bennet had to micro-manage each individual piece, both dissolving and reforming took concentration.

And more importantly, it took ether...and Bennet looked like he was running out from his chest’s heavy heaving.

Aren straightened, stretching his arms, yet his eyes were clear.

He knew the winning condition.

Aren didn’t look away from Bennet as he spoke.

"Luna," he said calmly. "Can you still fight?"

Luna pushed herself upright, frost blooming unevenly around her boots as she straightened. Her breathing was steady now.

"...Of course," she replied. "Don’t slow me down."

That was all he needed.

Aren exhaled once.

"Overwhelm him."

The word hadn’t even finished echoing before they moved.

Lily slammed her palms into the ground.

Vines erupted in a violent surge, lashing forward in thick coils that tore across the arena, snapping toward Bennet from multiple angles at once.

Luna lifted into the air again, lower this time, and brought her hand down.

Ice spears formed instantly, not one or two...but dozens, raining down in a relentless wave that forced Bennet to split his attention.

Bennet snarled as he backpedaled for the first time, vermilion plates jerking out of sync as he struggled to keep up with the sheer volume of attacks.

With his left hand, he raised a cauldron to smash aside the incoming vines.

With his right, he reinforced his armor, shielding himself from the storm of ice.

But that left an opening...one that Aren made full advantage of.

Water ether roared through his circulation as he closed the distance, Dragon Gauntlet reforming mid-dash. Scales formed into place as Aren drove his fist straight into Bennet’s torso.

The Dragon Gauntlet slammed into Bennet’s stomach with concussive force as it sent him flying backwards.

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Aren didn’t give him time to recover. He gave chase, dropping his shoulders low, and struck again.

A combination of hard fists and soft palms, a sharp elbow disguised as a miss.

Bennet staggered backwards under the sudden pressure, vermilion plates scrambling to realign as Aren stayed glued to him, continuing the onslaught.

A heavy right hook drove Bennet’s guard up—

Only for a soft, almost casual tap to slip beneath it, fingers brushing his lower abdomen.

A split-second hitch ran through Bennet’s circulation.

Aren kept moving.

Bennet’s arm twitched, strength bleeding out of it unnaturally fast.

"What—" Bennet tried to speak.

A hard punch cracked against Bennet’s left side, followed immediately by a light strike to the chest, two fingers pressing briefly into his right pectoral.

His breath stuttered.

The vermilion armor faltered, plates shuddering as the Cauldron sputtered out of rhythm.

The crowd was screaming now, cheers crashing over the arena as Aren stepped in for the finish.

Bennet barely had time to register the calm in his eyes before Aren’s hand rose.

He flinched, throwing both arms up—expecting a heavy blow....but none came.

Just two fingers that precisely tapped the right side of his head.

Right where the final acupoint was.

A heartbeat later, Bennet’s body went slack.

The vermilion plates lost cohesion all at once, clattering harmlessly to the arena floor as Bennet collapsed forward, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

For a split second, silence fell throughout the arena.

Then—

"WOAHHH!"

"DID YOU SEE THAT?!"

"WHAT DID HE JUST DO!?"

Even the referee struggled to be heard, but when his voice cut through, it was absolute.

"Bennet Parker, disqualified!" he shouted. "The match is over!"

Lily was already running before Bennet hit the ground.

"Aren!" she shouted, vines tearing themselves free from the arena floor as she sprinted toward him. She nearly collided with him, grabbing his arm with both hands, eyes filled with adrenaline.

"Did you see that?" she laughed, breathless. "You actually—!"

Aren let out a long breath, tension finally draining from his shoulders. "Yeah," he said quietly.

Luna approached more slowly.

She stopped a few steps away, eyes lingering on the spot where Bennet had fallen, then on Aren’s hands. For a moment, her expression was unreadable.

Then Luna exhaled, the tension breaking as the corner of her mouth lifted.

"...You’re full of surprises," she said, shaking her head. "I’m glad you’re on our side."

The crowd was still roaring.

High above them, the commentators were nearly shouting over one another.

"UNBELIEVABLE!"

"What incredible martial prowess coming from Central High’s Aren!"

"To dismantle Bennet’s unstoppable form like that, this young man is no ordinary contender!

The main commentator’s voice rang out, sharp with excitement.

"Aren’s team has just eliminated one of the tournament favorites! If there was any doubt before, let it be said now!"

"This team is the dark horse of the tournament."

"And at this rate," he added, almost laughing, "they might just take it all!"

***

Far from the arena, a glass box overlooking the stage—

A man stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gaze fixed on the match below.

Four teams remained.

An attendant stepped forward and bowed.

"The semifinalists have been decided," he said respectfully. "Preparations for the banquet may begin."

The man nodded once.

"...Good," he replied.

His eyes narrowed slightly as they lingered on one name in particular.

"Make sure everything is ready."

The attendant headed for the door before the man made a gesture. The attendant paused before turning back once more to heed the man’s orders.

"Look into that kid’s background...Aren Cross, was it?"

"As you wish, Sir."