Lisa took a deep breath and assumed her stance. Both she and Lady Aegis were practitioners of Earth martial arts and adept in water element manipulation. With sharp focus on her opponent, Lisa shouted, "OUS!"
She began circling Lady Aegis on the mat, observing her movements. The veteran hero stood relaxed, her posture open—almost inviting an attack. Lisa narrowed her eyes, noting the calculated stillness. It wasn't arrogance—it was confidence born of experience.
She smiled. So, she understands me.
Without hesitation, Lisa lunged forward. Her glaive crashed down in a heavy arc, meeting Lady Aegis's reinforced staff with a resounding clang.
"This woman…" Lady Aegis muttered under her breath, recognizing Lisa's intention behind the strike. "So that's how you want to play it."
Lady Aegis countered with a quick step forward, launching a kick aimed at Lisa's midsection. Lisa twisted away just in time, though the force grazed her shoulder, tearing part of her uniform. Her skin was left reddened from the blow.
Her confident smirk faded into a focused expression. With a swift backstep, Lisa leapt ten meters away and landed gracefully, weapon poised.
Lady Aegis didn't wait. She pressed forward, jabbing the end of her staff with rapid precision. Lisa dodged and blocked with effort, her reflexes pushed to their limits. Beads of sweat trickled down her brow.
From the sidelines, the crowd watched in awe. Lisa's raw talent clashed against the polished technique of Lady Aegis. One showed promise; the other, mastery.
Still holding back, Lady Aegis tested Lisa's strength, gauging her resilience. But Lisa, now breathing hard and drenched in sweat, refused to yield. She grit her teeth—she couldn't accept being overwhelmed so easily.
"Are you alright?" Lady Aegis asked, her voice composed.
"I was just warming up," Lisa replied, voice steady. She gathered water elemental energy, letting it surge through her body. Her aura shimmered as her agility and senses sharpened. "Now it's time to get serious."
Her stance shifted—more fluid, more focused. She gripped her glaive with both hands and advanced once again.
"That's enough," Lady Aegis said, tone firmer now. She had seen enough to understand Lisa's limits. But Lisa wasn't done. Pride burned too fiercely.
She charged.
Lady Aegis sighed internally. Dodging the flurry of attacks, she held back from striking. The Emris name carried weight—too much, perhaps, to risk humiliation.
But as Lisa's attacks grew reckless, the hero had no choice.
A precise palm strike met Lisa's abdomen—controlled, but undeniable in power. The force knocked Lisa off her feet, launching her ten meters back. She landed hard, her glaive clattering beside her. Lady Aegis stood unmoved, her palm extended.
"Whoa… she's really strong!" murmured one of the candidates, echoing the stunned silence of the gymnasium.
Lisa, however, wasn't ready to give up. Despite the growing gap in skill and experience, she pushed herself further, determined to stand tall. But as she tried to advance again, her vision swam.
"You've reached your limit. I suggest you stand down," Lady Aegis warned, calm but firm.
"I… I won't… give up… and—"
Pain surged through Lisa's body, cutting her words short. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the mat.
"The match is over!" the emcee declared.
Medics rushed over to assist Lisa. The crowd watched in stunned silence as she was carried off.
Lady Aegis exhaled and glanced down at the sleeve of her jacket. A clean slice marked the fabric—courtesy of Lisa's glaive. Not many candidates could boast such a feat.
She looked toward Lisa, clearly impressed. Words rose in her throat, but before she could speak, the emcee announced a short break. Just then, an agent approached and handed her a phone.
She answered and disappeared backstage, speaking on the call for nearly ten minutes. When she returned, her expression had changed—more focused, more intense.
Approaching the emcee, Lady Aegis spoke quietly, requesting to excuse herself for an urgent matter. Yet, as she scanned the crowd, her gaze settled on a particular candidate.
Jonathan Kirk.
She studied him from afar, recognizing something beneath the surface. He hadn't fought yet—but he stood out. Power didn't always shout; sometimes, it whispered.
An assessor in a black suit stepped beside her and leaned in.
"That boy. What's his classification?"
"Rankless," the assessor replied. "But he received an A-minus in the aptitude assessment."
Lady Aegis blinked. "A rankless with an A-minus?" she whispered.
"Yes. That's what the records say."
"Then your assessment system is flawed. I want a test match with him—before I leave."
The emcee nodded and raised his voice. "Jonathan Kirk, step forward!"
Jonathan's eyes widened. Me?
Doubt clawed at him. Going against one of the greatest heroes in the nation? He didn't stand a chance.
"I… I decline," he said at first, sinking back into his seat.
But then, Lady Aegis turned to him directly. "I'll offer you a reward—if you can land a single clean hit. That's my promise."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Murmurs spread like wildfire. After seeing Lisa's defeat, no one believed Jonathan stood a chance.
Jonathan thought it over. He had no illusions about winning—but a boon from Lady Aegis herself? That was worth the risk.
He stood. Pulling back his hood, he walked toward the mat where the legend awaited.
"You're not like the others," Lady Aegis said, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. "Jonathan, is it?"
"Yes," he replied. "Jonathan Kirk."
"Select your weapon," the emcee instructed. "The rules are simple: Lady Aegis wins with three strikes. The challenger wins with just one hit."
Jonathan approached the weapon rack. Blades, staves, exotic weapons he couldn't name—all arranged neatly. He scanned them, uninterested in anything showy or difficult to wield.
He spotted a pair of brass knuckles. Plain. Simple. Close-range.
This is just sparring. I don't need flash—I need speed.
Grabbing the brass knuckles, he returned to the mat. Lady Aegis raised an eyebrow at his choice.
The audience erupted into murmurs again. His fellow candidates were baffled. To them, it looked like Jonathan had just accepted defeat.
But Jonathan didn't care how it looked.
He had a plan.