The long-awaited moment finally arrived.
Blade's finger lifted - and landed squarely on Isaac and his team.
Isaac's smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.
They stepped forward together, entering the circle. Each of them took position - Isaac and Arnold facing Blade from the front, while Ren and Trish circled quietly behind him.
Blade gave them a single look, his expression flat and unimpressed.
"The last team was at least interesting," he said, voice dripping with annoyance. "Couldn't you brats have learned something from them?"
He clicked his tongue, then gestured lazily.
"Come at me."
---
Arnold moved first. He dashed straight at Blade with surprising speed, fist cocked back.
Blade sidestepped with ease and hooked Arnold's ankle, sending him tumbling. Before Arnold could recover, Blade grabbed his leg and swung, clearly intending to throw him out of the ring.
But then Trish and Ren struck together. Both moved fast, grabbing Blade's waist and anchoring themselves against his weight.
Blade frowned. Trying to tackle me? He dropped Arnold's leg and reached to peel the girls off.
That was when he heard it-
A low chuckle.
Isaac.
Blade's instincts flared. He spun just in time to see Isaac closing the distance, fist drawn back for a head-on strike.
With perfect timing, Blade caught Isaac's wrist before the punch could connect.
"Too slow," he growled.
But Isaac didn't resist. He just opened his palm.
A fine spray of sand slipped through his fingers, falling straight into Blade's eyes.
"-Tch!" Blade snarled, staggering back, vision burning.
His grip tightened, then he roared and hurled Isaac across the circle. Spinning on his heel, he tore the two girls off his waist with a violent twist. His balance slipped - his back was now close to the edge of the circle.
He blinked furiously, forcing his eyes open through the sting. Shapes blurred into focus just in time to catch sight of Arnold charging at him again.
Blade braced himself, arms up, ready to absorb the impact.
But it didn't come.
Arnold dropped to one knee at the last second - not an attack, but a platform.
Blade's instincts screamed. He looked up.
The sun cut across his vision, white and blinding.
And there - silhouetted in the glare - was Isaac.
A heartbeat later, the boy's boot connected with his chest. A clean, brutal flying kick.
Blade stumbled. His footing slipped. The crowd held its breath.
With a crash, Blade toppled backward, landing outside the circle.
The training ground went silent.