Gale's eyes flashed to the diminutive figure fading in the crowd—the same man who had tricked him into bursting out at the elders. Although he could hide from Gale's eyes, he couldn't hide from his Void Sense.
"Do you know how many nights I have dreamt of this day," Torin Walt crackled. "I have fantasised about finding you someday and teaching you the lesson long due, but to throw yourself on a silver platter... even a fool knows better than that."
"Curious," Gale said, "how many times did you practise the words?"
Torin grinned wickedly. "Not more than imagining my blade chopping your head."
With that, the professor hurled himself at him, swinging his sword high and mighty. Gale remained standing in his spot, surrounded by dozens of people. The blade came straight for his neck. However, at the nick of time, when the sword was about to connect, Gale twisted under it, moved to Walt's side, and raised his palm to smack a hard blow across Torin Walt's face.
Walt was thrown to the very edge of the ring, blood dripping from his lips.
"Are you going to surrender now?" Gale laughed. "Go back to your daddy for help?"
Torin clenched his jaw and jumped to his feet. He spat blood and thrust at Gale once more, sword aiming for the heart. Gale didn't even bother to evade this time. He intercepted the sword with his bare hand, hurling it over his shoulder to thrash the man against the ground.
The audience fell into a still silence, but Gale wasn't finished yet. Not even nearly.
He didn't let go of the sword, and nor did Torin, as Gale continued to thrash him against the ground a few more times until Torin finally let go, his sorry body falling just near the edge of the ring.
Gale clicked his tongue. "I thought it would be more challenging," he sighed, "more satisfying... but you can't even put up a fight."
"YOU!" Torin glared, jumping back to his feet. He looked around for his sword, only to find it in Gale's hand.
A deadly silence surrounded the area, as the lower rankers began to withdraw, fearing for their lives. Even if a gold ranker didn't focus their whole attention on a low copper ranker, they could become collateral damage in their play. Hell, even Iron rankers weren't safe, though their resilient bodies were more capable of staying alive.
"Sorry, forgot your name," Gale said, his eyes darting to the towering figure of the Interim Major General. "What was your name again?"
Some bystanders helped with their whispers, calling him Terel Walt.
"Have you ever considered the hubris of your actions, fool?" the General barked as he began to walk in.
"Wait," Gale called before he entered the ring. "The duel hasn't finished yet, Major General. Stand back."
Terel Walt glared at him but stayed in his spot, the aura around him palpable. A few people withdrew several steps away from him. Agnes stood at an advantage, in case the Major General tried something, though she probably wouldn't have to lift even a hand.
"Thank you," Gale said, grinning at Terel Walt. "Now if you let me get back to my duel. Your brother is dying for it."
Gale pulled him out from the hole and lifted him into the air, by the foot. Torin Walt spat blood and dirt, his eyes wandering to his brother's figure.
"Brother, you cannot let him—"
Gale thrust him back into the earth. If not for the constitution of a silver ranker, his neck and so many of his joints would have been broken by now.
While he worked on the younger brother, Gale's eyes never left the Major General.
"Don't look at me like that," he said. "Your brother actually digs it, or why else hasn't he surrendered yet? He has too many sadistic bones in his body... Let's see how many I can break before he surrenders."