Despite the venom being thrown at him, Kael's face remained respectful as he gently shook his head. "There is no purpose in fighting, Tanaka-san. A duel between us would prove nothing to anyone."
Kenji's face contorted with rage. "It would prove you are a coward... Or perhaps..." his voice dropped to a cruel whisper, "your mother was simply some peasant sh*t whore who clung to the Tsurugi name to make her bastard son seem important."
Kenji blinked. For a moment, his grin wavered. He sensed it. The shift in his aura.
The soft-spoken, goofy boy who smiled and apologized too much was gone. Someone else, someone dangerous was now in front of him.
Kael stepped forward, and his shadow stretched long in the late afternoon sun.
"Don't talk shit about my mother, Tanaka-san."
His eyes lost their soft light and took on a stony, unwavering focus that could shatter glass. His normally relaxed shoulders tensed in silent rage, and when he looked up at last, his words lacked warmth and he was no longer smiling.
"I will accept your challenge....there are some things you can't say. Not about my mother who gave up everything for me."
He took one more step, his eyes never leaving Kenji's.
Before he buried it, Kenji felt a twinge of uneasiness rise in his chest and tighten his throat. He snorted, attempting to straighten his stance, chin up, eyes narrowing once more with illusory mockery.
"Tch. Acting tough all of a sudden? Fine. Let's see if your sword can back up your mouth." Kenji said, masking his brief fear he felt all of a sudden.
However, he was unaware his hands clenched tightly on his wooden sword. His pulse accelerated because, although he would never acknowledge it, Kenji sensed it in his heart.
Two of Kenji's goons, Takeshi and Ryo, ran off toward the academy's inner garden paths, snickering like hyenas as Kael and Kenji faced off beneath the pine-shaded courtyard. With mocking, low laughter, they ran along the garden paths.
Takeshi leaned toward a nearby student, a voice full of smug excitement. "Tanaka-sama's will f***king beat Tsurugi and pound him in the ground!"
Ryo cupped his hands and shouted toward the second-floor terrace. "Hey! There's a duel in the gravel court! Tsurugi Kael's gonna get beaten up real bad!"
Like moths to a flame, the students started to drift toward the courtyard. Some still had boxes of half-eaten bentos. Some turned on their AR recorders.
One girl, adjusting her smart lenses, whispered to her friend, "Isn't that the guy who beat Park Jimin? I thought it was just a rumor."
Her friend rolled her eyes."He probably got a lucky shot."
Kenji stood taller behind it all. Every time a new face turned to watch, his smile grew brighter.
"Perfect," he said loud enough for the students to be able to hear. "A proper audience to show how you finally get humbled."
Kael, on the other hand, appeared hardly worried. If he was, he didn't display it. His gaze lingered on the gravel ahead of him before gradually shifting to the opponent who had mocked his mother's name.
Kenji brandished his bokken like a sword of justice. "Remember this moment, Tsurugi... Everyone in the audience will remember your face on the ground!"
Something in the air changed, but Kael's posture remained the same. It became thicker. His breathing slowed down. His aura became cold intent.
The excited murmurs of the crowd subsided for the first time. The sunlight appeared to hold its breath as it passed through the trees.
Kael approached the practice weapon rack with a smooth, elegant steps, each stride focused and serious. He chose a straightforward wooden bokken—nothing fancy, just plain wood that had been polished by countless training sessions. With the familiarity, his fingers encircled it.
Smirking with victorious malice, Kenji gripped his wooden sword tightly while demonstrating how to test its balance by making aggressive practice swings that *WHOOSH* through the air.
The courtyard's gravel crunched beneath their feet. With his wooden bokken raised above his head in a perfect jodan-no-kamae stance, Kenji Tanaka displayed an obvious aggressive intent. His form was flawless, as his private master had taught him, and his eyes were narrowed.
Kael, however, stood silently. With the blade level with his waist, he carried his bokken in a simple, neutral chudan-no-kamae. He didn't look at Kenji's sword or his eyes. He was looking past Kenji's shoulder with a gentle, unfocused gaze.
"Prepare yourself, bastard." Kenji snarled, and lunged.
*WHOOOOSH!*
It came like lightning— a quick, strong overhead blow that was aimed straight at Kael's skull, intended to overwhelm and finish the fight with a single, bone-crushing blow. Kenji's war cry reverberated off the courtyard walls as his bokken sliced through the air with ferocious intent.
"YAHHHH!"
However, Kael sensed Kenji's sword slicing through the air. Just before the attack started, he felt a prickling along the top of his scalp and a faint but distinct buzzing in his mind. His instincts were yelling a silent warning.
His body moved without conscious thought. He made a simple, flowing movement with his weight. Instead of meeting the blow with force, his bokken rose to greet it as he rotated his blade, causing Kenji's sword to slide off and deflect into empty air.
"Tch!" Kenji grunted, his eyes flashing with rage at being so easily redirected.
However, he recovered remarkably quickly, he was truly talented in the sword. He launched into a ferocious combination attack after his stumble turned into a pivot. His bokken turned into a blur of movement, slicing horizontally at Kael's ribs, then launching lightning-fast thrusts at his chest before spinning overhead for devastating downward blows.
*WHOOSH-CRACK-SLAM!*
Each method was strong, quick, and executed with accuracy. The kind of unrelenting attack that would use technical skill and sheer aggression to overwhelm most opponents.
But it was something else entirely to Kael. Time seemed to stretch as Kenji's attacks came in waves of rage, expanding Kael's perception. In addition to the sword, he could see the purpose of each swing. Kael's senses gave him the impression that invisible threads of will, rose from Kenji's body prior to each attack, indicating the direction and intensity of each blow.
The horizontal slash barely missed Kael by inches as his body swayed like a wind. His hair ruffled in the breeze from the blade that passed by.
Kenji's straight thrust was deflected into a harmless diagonal that slid past his shoulder by his already-present bokken.