Sparring (4): The Inevitable Outcome
An unexpected yet entirely predictable result unfolded before their eyes.
Kara's fist slammed into Luna's face, bringing the match to an abrupt end. Luna's body floated through the air with a whoosh before crashing limply onto the hard arena floor.
"……"
"……"
"……"
A deathly silence blanketed the arena in an instant.
The top admission scorer, a student of renowned prestige, had been defeated by a barbarian. And not just defeated—with an overwhelming gap in skill.
This was an incident sure to send ripples far and wide.
[The sparring match has ended. Medical team, please provide prompt care.]
The broadcast shattered the silence, echoing throughout the arena. Soon after, the arena floor shifted back from the flat plain to its usual hard-packed earth.
Medical personnel rushed in from the entrance. Kara was mostly fine, just a bit winded, while Luna was undoubtedly in rough shape. Especially her face—after taking several direct punches, it had to be swollen up good.
That’s gotta hurt.
Still, she held her own pretty well, didn’t she?
To others, it might look like Luna was incredibly weak due to the skill gap. But that was normal.
Unlike the other freshmen, Kara was what you’d call a true warrior—seasoned in real combat, knowing exactly when to deploy her techniques.
Plus, Luna hadn’t trained in hand-to-hand fighting, so her patterns were inevitably limited. Kara had exploited that perfectly.
And yet, Luna had fought admirably. She’d accurately grasped her own weaknesses and done everything to shut down close-quarters combat.
The entrance exam tests basic skills, after all.
Fundamentals like footwork, strategic judgment, and so on. Luna excelled there, which was why she’d topped the admissions.
She’d scored high on those alone. But her repertoire of techniques was lacking, leaving her responses painfully slow.
She must have felt something crucial from this match.
"Hm. As expected, it didn’t work out. Still, her fundamentals are solidly built."
Lord, with his wealth of real combat experience, had noticed it too. That Luna couldn’t beat Kara.
Even top admits like her rarely had true battle experience. Their idea of "real combat" was just monster hunts or spars—hardly the real thing.
[We will take a 10-minute break until the next sparring match begins.]
As Luna was carried off on a stretcher, the event wrapped up. It had been billed as a blockbuster, but it ended on a rather anticlimactic note.
To reiterate: Luna wasn’t weak—Kara was just ridiculously strong. It was like a veteran diving into a newbie hunting ground.
The academy will fill in those combat experience gaps anyway.
During their time here, students would rack up plenty of real fights. Bandit subjugations were a prime example.
There were episodes tied to those, but it wasn’t time to worry about them yet. They started in the second year anyway.
First-years trained under mentors, learned skills and knowledge, and got scouted.
Whether scouted or not didn’t matter. If he played it cool and thought it over slowly, it’d probably blow over.
Still, she definitely left an impression despite the loss.
I scanned the VIP seats where dignitaries from various nations sat, murmuring among themselves.
Even in defeat, they’d seen potential in Luna’s swordsmanship and fundamentals.
Judging by inclinations, the Matra Empire would show more interest than Granada.
"Hey, old man. What do you think? She usable?"
Lost in thought, I heard a gravelly voice from behind. Turning, I saw Kara’s father, Hector, standing there with a stern expression.
"You’re using 'usable' for your own daughter?"
"Gotta survive somehow. No choice."
Hector scratched his head at Lord’s rebuke, his response laced with complicated undertones—like he knew it was wrong.
"So, your answer?"
"Excellent. Considering she’s still growing, she’ll become a fine warrior."
"Right? Then…"
Hector trailed off, eyeing me. His green eyes—identical to Kara’s—brimmed with intense curiosity.
He pointed at me and asked Lord, "What if she fought this kid?"
"We’ll see when it happens."
Lord’s vague reply was enough to hook Hector. No firm answer meant Kara could lose—which is exactly how Hector took it.
"Hearing you say that feels weird."
"It’s because you don’t know Sivar’s true strength."
"You haven’t fought him yourself? Then how’d you bring him here?"
"The student your daughter just pummeled brought him."
Seems the full story hadn’t reached him. Only those close by knew the details.
Hector gave Lord’s explanation a strange look, then stared at me like I was some alien.
"Shit."
That was my answer too—I didn’t know myself either. Hector’s expression grew even stranger.
The usually chatty man was speechless.
"…Sivar? What’s that mean?"
"Think of it as a verbal tic. He lost his language living wild. But he can manage a word or two."
"Wasn’t his name Sivar? Did they name him that because he goes 'Sivar Sivar'? Not even a shred of creativity."
Tell me about it, mister. If it was 'Uga Uga,' they’d have called him Ugarr.
While I silently agreed, Lord chuckled too. He felt the lack of effort the same way.
"I didn’t name him. The girl who brought him did."
"What a unique kid. Anyway, got it. We’ll see during the matches."
Hector rattled it off and turned away—probably to see Kara.
I watched his massive back, then quietly stood.
I had somewhere to be.
"Where are you off to? There are still matches left."
Lord questioned as I rose. I pondered my words, then spoke syllable by syllable.
"Friend."
"Friend?"
"Hospital."
She’d lost consciousness, so Luna was probably admitted by now. In Soul World, she woke up in the hospital too.
I planned to check on her there. Wonder how swollen her face was.
Of course, I was a little worried. Like 1% worried.
"To the hospital to see a friend? To visit Luna?"
"Yeah."
"Are you worried about her?"
"Yeah."
Less worry, more curiosity about her puffy face.
Plus, no interest in watching more matches. Better to hang with someone I knew than sit bored.
"To think you’d have such a considerate idea. Excellent. Go on."
Lord had no clue about my real motives. Just touched, beaming proudly.
Clearly thinking I was developing social skills. And yeah, with slightly better communication, I was reading the room a bit.
Unrelated to social skills, though.
"That Porori is a big help. Makes communication smooth now."
"…"
Suddenly pissed. Hearing Porori got credit, I protested to Lord.
"No! You!"
"Hm? What’s not?"
"Help!"
"No need to help? Sorry, but that won’t fly. Bear with it."
"Shit!"
"No complaining. Let’s go."
Frustrating as ever.
Luna, who’d taken a solid punch from Kara and blacked out, was rushed to the hospital.
She came to soon enough. Kara had pulled her punches, and it was mostly exhaustion that knocked her out.
Aching!
"Ahh…"
As consciousness returned, waves of pain hit her. Her abdomen throbbed, but her face—smashed by Kara’s iron fists—hurt worst.
Her mouth had split during the fight, and more hits followed. It was swollen bad.
At least emergency treatment kept the metallic tang of blood away—just pure agony.
"Ah, you’re awake?"
As Luna winced, a woman tending her spoke up. It was Ellie.
No pets allowed outside special wards, so Ratatosk wasn’t with her.
Luna met Ellie’s ever-bright eyes and quietly asked,
"Where… is this…?"
"Hospital. You passed out."
"Right…"
Her swollen mouth slurred her speech. Talking hurt extra.
Luna grimaced through the pain and looked elsewhere.
Her eyes widened at an unexpected face.
"…Sivar?"
"Yeah. Me."
Incredibly, it was Sivar. Staring at her with pure innocence.
Wondering why he was here, Ellie explained.
"President said Sivar asked first. Insisted on coming to you."
"Sivar… asked first?"
"Yeah. Surprised? He must’ve been so worried he ran right over."
Sivar glanced at Ellie. Like he had something to say.
But he gave up, turning back to Luna.
Luna met his gaze with complex emotions.
He was worried about me?
Just curious about her face, really. But she had no idea.
Clueless to the truth, Luna eyed Sivar subtly.
What was it? Touching. Admirable.
It hit her: Sivar was improving.
"…Sivar."
"Yeah."
"You came because you were worried about me?"
Sivar nodded at her question. With a what kind of question is that? look.
Overwhelmed, Luna smiled brightly.
Her chest filled with something indescribable.
No way he was lying. How could that pure(?) face lie?
"…Thanks. You’re a good guy, Sivar."
"Yeah."
"Heh. Ahh…"
She laughed, but it tugged her mouth. Luna winced.
"Doctor said you’ll be fine in a day. Teeth are intact."
"A day?"
"It’s the academy. Top potions on standby. I make ’em too?"
Ellie puffed her chest proudly. An awe-inspiring presence.
Her potion pouch mesmerized even Sivar—and Luna, another girl.
Luna stared blankly, then snapped to.
Now was time for reflection.
She was really strong.
The moment she truly grasped battle-honed skill.
Techniques pulled out at perfect moments, responses, adaptability—nothing lacking.
If they’d fought to kill, her head would’ve been gone in under five minutes.
That’s how strong Kara was.
If someone like that fought Sivar… No. What’s he staring at?
Sivar was still eyeing Ellie’s potion pouch… no, her chest.
One of Luna’s worries: Sivar grasping sexuality.
Already tough enough without sex ed too.
Time to redirect.
"Sivar?"
"?"
"What do you think? About Kara."
Not sure if he got it, but she asked anyway.
Sivar blinked.
Then scratched his head thoughtfully before speaking quietly.
"Me."
"Who do you think would win?"
Before Sivar finished, a familiar voice cut in.
Turning toward it, Kara stood at the door.
Her smile matched her outfit: long pants, black tank top.
"Miss Kara."
"Looks like you’re getting good treatment."
Kara strode over confidently. Unlike Luna’s battered face, she was unscratched.
Made sense—no clean hits landed.
Startled briefly, Luna recalled her prior words and spoke urgently.
"Miss Kara. About that…"
"Nah. It’s fine. Wasn’t serious anyway. I provoked you too."
"But…"
"What’s it matter? Apology accepted. That’s enough."
True to form—straightforward.
Luna wondered if it really was okay.
Calling her a "barbarian" must’ve stung Kara deep.
Luna had realized it spending time with her.
Far from barbaric, yet scorned as one. Immense stress.
"Tatars treat spars like real fights. Gotta keep cool no matter the taunts—but I didn’t. My fault."
"…You sure you’re okay?"
"Yeah. You apologized, I accepted. Done. The real problem’s people who don’t apologize."
Kara glanced at Sivar, still smiling.
"Next up, it’s you and me, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Can you answer what Luna asked? Who’d win between us?"
"Similar… but…"
It was more "what do you think?" Plenty of room for interpretation.
Not strength, but her character maybe.
Anyone else, whatever. But Sivar needed precision.
"Sivar. If you fought Miss Kara…"
"Sis."
"Huh?"
"Call me sis casually. I’m older anyway."
"Uh…"
"Call me sis, I’ll teach you techniques."
Tempting. Luna’s eyes darted, deciding fast.
Top scorer or not, she’d been crushed—might’ve made her mark anyway.
Plus, she’d clash with Kara often; plenty of learning time.
Thoughts raced; pride tossed aside long ago.
"If you and Kara sis fought, who’d win?"
"Quick."
Kara snorted beside her, amused.
She looked at Sivar too.
All eyes on him. A bit heavy.
Sivar rolled his red eyes, then slowly raised a hand.
"You."
His index finger pointed at Kara.
"Lose."
Then he pointed at himself, declaring confidently.