Sir Desian watched the new challenger enter the arena. At first, he believed his opponent to be a weak man. He scanned the figure from toe to head, the person was in a ragged old clothes as there was no footwear, no armor, nor any weapon. And yet, it felt as though he were standing before something unknown... something deadly.
The same reaction across the stadium, everyone was confused with some even wondering why a beggar decided to join the battle.
The cheers for Sir Desian simply grew, since everyone thought the Beggar simply appeared for a momentary glory which such a person could never get since they are a beggar unlike a strong warrior belonging to a reputed Aristocratic family.
But Sir Desian was rather confused, he felt like he had to face a beggar or someone who looks like a beggar but for some reason the person doesn't appear weak but rather mysterious and for a soldier like him, mysteriousness more or less appears like a danger.
Conflicted, Desian took a battle-ready stance. "You look like someone who is unprepared. I am willing to grant you a chance to surrender." He said with confidence, though there was a hint of doubt in his tone.
There was no response from the beggar, only those two crimson eyes stared back from beneath the hood, he couldn't see the face properly due to the hood hiding it.
"I'll take that as a no." Sir Desian muttered, then lunged forward, Sir Desian took his sword in a straight trajectory as soon as he finished those words.
His sword aimed straight for the stranger's heart, but to his disbelief, the ragged man merely walked backward, effortlessly evading the thrust.
Desian's eyes widened. He was certain the strike had connected. How had this man, this barefoot vagrant, dodged him so easily? He was after all a professional soldier, a trained knight selected by a noble family and given good quality training to defend the House and its possessions.
All he could feel was confusion and frustration, he met a strong opponent but that opponent was unarmed showing the greater difference between him and that stranger.
"Interesting." Said Marquis Vapund, observing from the Pavilion. "Desian is among the fastest and youngest knights we have, yet that man evaded him like it was nothing."
The Duke didn't reply. His gaze narrowed. He knew who that man was and the look of frustration on his face didn't go unnoticed by the Marquis.
The Marquis had doubts, it was clear the person who's fighting against his knight was definitely related to the Duke but what kind of relationship as the Marquis wondered.
Sir Desian continued to attack with many vertical slashes, horizontal cuts, but none of his strikes connected. They were either dodged or narrowly avoided. Frustration bloomed in his chest as he couldn't believe that none of his attacks were being connected as this was the first time he felt like this.
Not being able to even touch his opponent while being famous for being fast in his brotherhood of knights.
"My instincts were right. You're not ordinary. But defeating you will bring more glory than all the others I've slain today." He said with pride even though he was frustrated with his opponent and he then channeled his Soul Aura, the energy from his soul which was being infused in his sword with radiant energy as a form of manifestation. The blade glowed, cracking the ground with each swing.
"The ultimate glory of a warrior! Aura! Aura! Sir Desian has blessed us with the pure energy of the soul!" shouted the commentator as the sword shone like a beacon.
Despite the cheering, Desian felt like he was striking a wall that kept pulling away from him.
"What are you?" he demanded. "How fast are you?"
"It doesn't matter how fast I am..." came the reply. In a blur, the cloaked man appeared in front of Desian.
"You are just too slow." The words came from the strangers as his abdomen got struck with a single fist and the blow dented the knight's abdominal armor and made Sir Desian stumble back.
"Sir Desian seems to have been pushed back by a lucky punch, but it doesn't look like -" the commentator began.
But then, blood dripped from Desian's mouth.
"...Nevermind."
"Impossible," muttered Marquis Vapund, standing up. "How can someone injure an armored knight with a bare fist and that too without any aura or mana?"
His eyes darted to the Duke, who remained grim and silent. Marquis's doubts were getting stronger especially due to the reaction of the Duke who instead of being surprised but rather was showing hints of frustration.
"Is he some monster you created to challenge the Royal Guards?" the Marquis accused.
Lady Cornelia snapped, "How dare you accuse my husband of treachery!"
But the Marquis persisted, "He's not surprised to see that man. He's afraid the identity will be revealed."
The Duke stood. "Know your place." He warned coldly, walking toward the edge of the Pavilion. He stared at the arena. "How in the world did you gain such strength, Estefan?"
Cornelia froze the moment she heard that name from the Duke, "No… it can't be." She whispered, while shivering not out of fear but knowing that her son's future may have some roadblocks.
The Marquis blinked. "Estefan? Isn't that the name of your eldest son?"
No answer from the Duke who simply stood there and watched.
Down in the arena, the ground was cracked and ruined due to the powerful strikes from Desian who was nearing exhaustion as his attacks had wreaked havoc on the battlefield but none had managed to land on his opponent who simply stood there unscathed.
Estefan raised his arms, inviting more. "Come on. Prove your strength." He said.
Sir Desian held his sword to the sky, pouring all remaining aura into one last move. The energy exploded into a sky-piercing vortex. "Tornado Split!" he shouted, bringing the sword down.
But in an instant, Estefan closed the distance. His cloak burned away due to energy released by the Knight, revealing brown skin, crimson eyes, and a muscular frame. "Let me show you strength." He whispered, grabbing the blade.
The aura dispersed the moment he touched it and the sword shattered while Sir Desian collapsed from exhaustion since he released a lot of energy just to defeat Estefan.
The entire stadium was covered with an intense silence because no one had seen the eldest son of the Duke before.
"Who's that handsome topless guy?" asked the commentator.
Estefan looked up at the Pavilion, raising his hand. "I am Estefan Angeras." He declared. "And I have returned, Father." A spell circle formed before his mouth, amplifying the words across the stadium to ensure that everyone knew of his arrival.