Chương 15: The yellow fighter

The crowd began to murmur again as the man emerged onto the stage. His demeanor radiated confidence, not arrogance, as if he didn't need to say a word to prove he belonged there. His opponent, Ryan, was already in the arena, practically bouncing on his toes. A wide, cocky grin stretched across Ryan's face as he clapped his hands together, clearly trying to psych himself up.

"Finally!" Ryan sneered, pointing a finger at the mystery fighter.

"The silent type, huh? That's cute. But don't think for a second you can intimidate me!" The yellow fighter simply stood there, unresponsive, his smirk growing slightly wider. Up in the stands, Thomas leaned forward in his seat, his brows furrowed deeply as he got a clear view of the fighter.

"It can't be…" he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling ever so slightly. Amelia, seated beside him, tilted her head in confusion.

"Thomas? What's wrong? Do you know that man?" Thomas didn't answer immediately, his eyes still fixed on the arena. Tony, however, jumped at the chance to poke fun at his old friend.

"What's the matter, old man? Don't tell me that's your secret son or something. I didn't think anyone would" Thwack! The bisento came down on the back of Tony's head, leaving a sizable lump.

"Shut it, you moron," Thomas barked, though there was no real heat in his voice. Amelia frowned, still pressing for answers.

"Thomas, seriously, who is that?" Thomas exhaled heavily, his shoulders sinking slightly.

"That's my grandson, Rakai Dreyfus." Both Amelia and Tony's jaws dropped simultaneously.

"Grandson?!" Amelia exclaimed. Tony groaned, rubbing his aching head.

"Grandson? You mean someone actually married you? What kind of poor soul" Thomas raised the bisento again, and Tony immediately stopped talking.

"I had a wife," Thomas said gruffly, his tone softening.

"A remarkable woman. She passed away ten years ago… But yes, that's my grandson." Amelia's shock turned to curiosity as she studied the figure in yellow.

"Your grandson… If he's related to you, he must be incredibly strong." Tony grumbled under his breath, "Probably just as grumpy, too." Ryan strutted to the center of the arena, clearly reveling in the attention.

"C'mon, mystery man. You've been standing there all quiet, acting all cool. Let's see if you can actually fight." The announcer's voice cut in before the tension could escalate further.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The next match is about to begin! On one side, we have Ryan, known for his swift techniques and explosive magic. And on the other side…" The announcer faltered, clearly realizing he didn't know the mystery fighter's name.

"Uh… our yellow challenger!" The crowd chuckled, but the man in yellow didn't react.

"Fighters, take your positions!" Ryan cracked his knuckles and smirked.

"Hope you're ready to eat dirt." The countdown began.

"Three… two… one… FIGHT!" Ryan wasted no time. He dashed forward at lightning speed, aiming a roundhouse kick directly at his opponent's side. But just as his foot was about to connect, the mystery man disappeared. Ryan stumbled, his kick hitting nothing but air.

"What the?"

"Behind you," came a calm voice from just inches away. Ryan spun around, startled, only to see the yellow fighter standing there with his hands still casually tucked in his pockets. Ryan scowled, smacking his cheeks to focus himself.

"Okay, fluke move. You won't dodge this time!" He launched a flurry of punches and kicks, each one faster and more aggressive than the last. The crowd roared at his relentless assault, but the mystery fighter moved like water, weaving effortlessly around each attack.

"Too slow," he muttered.

"Stop dodging, you coward!" Ryan growled, leaping back to create distance. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He began channeling his magic, a glowing orb of energy forming between his hands. The air around him crackled as the orb grew larger and larger.

"Let's see you dodge this! Magic skill: Phantom Bomb!" The crowd held its breath as the attack tore through the air, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The yellowclad fighter stood his ground, raising one hand lazily. SWAT! He flicked the attack aside as if it were an annoying fly. The Phantom Bomb veered off course and exploded harmlessly in the distance. Amelia and Tony leapt to their feet in shock.

"How… How did he do that?!" Amelia exclaimed. Tony's jaw hung open.

"That attack could've levelled the whole arena! And he just swatted it away like it was nothing!" Back in the arena, Ryan stood frozen, his confidence shaken.

"Hhow…?" The man in yellow tilted his head.

"Is that all you've got?" Ryan's lips curled into a smirk.

"Not quite." The Phantom Bomb, still active, circled back toward the yellowsigma fighter. The crowd gasped as it struck him from behind, engulfing him in a massive explosion. Smoke filled the arena, and Ryan burst into laughter.

"Didn't see that coming, huh? Go ahead, announcercall me the winner!" The announcer squinted through the smoke.

"Not so fast, Ryan…" The smoke cleared to reveal the mystery fighter, completely unscathed. His jacket was singed at the edges, but his smirk hadn't wavered.

"You really thought that little trick would work on someone like me?" he asked, his tone almost mocking.

"You're so weak it's actually embarrassing for you to be hear Ryan's confidence shattered. In a blind panic, he charged forward, swinging wildly. But his punches couldn't connect. The man in yellow moved faster than Ryan could see, dodging each blow effortlessly. Finally, he caught Ryan's fist in midair, gripping it tightly. Leaning in close, he whispered, "This is over." Lightning crackled around his free hand as he charged a devastating punch. With a single blow to Ryan's gut, he sent him flying across the arena.

Ryan hit the ground hard, his body skidding to a stop. His vision blurred, and within seconds, he passed out. The announcer stepped forward.

"The winner: the yellow fighter!" As the crowd erupted into cheers, the mystery man turned and walked off the stage, his hands once again in his pockets. He didn't spare a glance at Ryan, who lay unconscious on the ground. Amelia sank back into her seat, her hands clasped tightly.

"If he's that strong… can Mochi or Ace even beat him?" Tony gulped audibly his confidence shaken.

"Of course they can! Right, Thomas?" Thomas didn't answer. His silence spoke volumes. Tony sighed.

"Guess we'd better start praying…" Back in the waiting room, the yellow fighter strolled in, still calm and composed. Ace, watching him carefully, called out.

"Hey. You're Thomas's grandson, aren't you?" The man stopped, turning his head slightly. A faint smirk crossed his lips.

"Master detective," he said sarcastically, before walking away without another word.

"You can just call me, Rakai" he said walking away.

"Rakai Dreyfus" Ace leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing.

"So that's who we're up against…" The next match on the schedule was unfolding in the arena, with the crowd still buzzing from the earlier fights. Mochi, having recovered in the medical room thanks to the healers' expert use of support magic, pushed the door open and strolled out. His energetic demeanor had returned, a spring in his step as he hummed to himself. Despite the grueling fight earlier, he now looked completely fine, albeit slightly stiff in his movements.

Mochi made his way to the waiting room and spotted Ace seated on a couch, arms crossed, his eyes fixed intently on the TV screen displaying the ongoing match. A familiar mischievous grin spread across Mochi's face as he darted over, his excitement practically radiating from him.

"Hey, Ace!" Mochi chirped, bouncing up and down in front of him. Ace mumbled something under his breath, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"Huh? What was that?" Mochi tilted his head, leaning closer. Ace exhaled sharply.

"I said.."

"What? Can you say that louder? I didn't catch it!" Mochi asked with exaggerated innocence, cupping his hand to his ear. Ace's eye twitched. His patience wore thin, and without turning his gaze from the match, he snapped, his voice sharp and cutting.

"I SAID GET OUT OF THE WAY OF THE TV BEFORE I BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!" Mochi froze, his body stiffening as he instinctively leaped out of Ace's line of sight. He cowered behind a nearby chair, peeking over the top with wide, nervous eyes. Ace muttered something about "idiots everywhere" as he adjusted his seating position and resumed watching the match. Mochi sat silently for a few moments, stealing quick glances at Ace to make sure he wasn't serious. Five minutes passed, and the match reached its conclusion.

The fight had been evenly matched, a true spectacle of skill and strategy. Victor, a fighter with a sharp and tactical style, managed to outwit Kazuya in the end. Both competitors shook hands respectfully, a rare but appreciated display of sportsmanship. The crowd erupted in applause as the announcer declared Victor the winner. Mochi leaned back in his chair, letting out a satisfied sigh.

"Wow, that was a great fight, huh, Ace?" Ace only grunted in response, his focus still on the screen as the replay of Victor's final move was displayed. Mochi smiled and added, "Looks like that's the end of the first round! The next round's tomorrow, right?" Ace finally tore his gaze from the TV, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yeah, tomorrow," he confirmed, standing up and cracking his neck. Mochi stretched his arms high above his head, his energy seemingly never ending.

"Guess we should head back to the stands and check in with the others, huh?" Ace simply nodded, walking ahead as Mochi trailed after him. When Mochi and Ace returned to the stands, they were met with warm smiles from the group. Thomas was the first to greet them, raising a hand.

"Well done, you two," Thomas said with a proud nod.

"Congrats on making it past the first round." Amelia chimed in next, her voice bright.

"Yeah, great job out there! You both did amazing." Tony, waved casually.

"Not bad, not bad. I'll admit, I wasn't sure if you'd both make it. Guess you proved me wrong."

"Of course we made it!" Mochi puffed out his chest with pride.

"We're awesome, after all!" At that moment, Mochi's stomach growled loudly, echoing through the group. His bravado faded as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Uh… I guess all that fighting worked up an appetite," Mochi admitted with a nervous chuckle.

"So could we please get a bite to eat?" The group collectively sighed, clearly unsurprised by Mochi's endless hunger.

"Well, if you're hungry, we might as well grab something to eat," Thomas suggested, standing up and gesturing for the group to follow.

"Finally!" Mochi exclaimed, his energy reigniting as he bolted ahead of the group. The others followed at a more leisurely pace, laughing at Mochi's enthusiasm as the group made their way to find a good meal and prepare for the next day of battles.