Independence
The match resumed. Ethan might be slow-witted, but he wasn't entirely simple. The moment he realized targeting my arms wouldn't work, he immediately shifted his focus to my legs. It seemed he intended to cripple me completely so I couldn't move. Lowering his stance, he lunged toward my torso and began throwing punches with enough force to shatter my knees.
Thud! Since it was impossible to dodge every single blow from a trained fighter, I ended up taking a hit. The clean strike hurt enough to make me swear. He was harder to deal with than the guy back in high school who claimed he was learning boxing. I quickly transformed my arm and slammed it down onto his shoulder.
"Aaargh!" Perhaps because I hadn't controlled my strength properly, Ethan screamed and recoiled, only to charge right back at me. However, the blow to his shoulder must have dealt significant damage, as his attacks lacked their previous power.
"I guess the rumor about you beating a bear was a lie." Seeing how he was struggling even though I had only shifted to lion muscles. Since I didn't possess a lion's actual shoulders or skeletal structure, I couldn't exert the full force of a real lion like the one I'd seen in the forest, yet he still couldn't defeat me. On top of that, I was working under my own set of penalties. I couldn't transform multiple body parts at once. There was no telling when my stamina would hit its limit and cause me to pass out again. Alternating the transformation between my hands and legs at the precise moments required intense concentration. Still, a real fight with him was far more helpful for mastering this ability than El's vague advice of 'just go whoosh-whoosh like this.' I was gradually getting used to altering my body.
"You... you're getting faster. What kind of trick is this?" Ethan seemed to have noticed it too. From his perspective, he had suddenly found himself fighting a werewolf hybrid, but for me, he was merely a great test subject. As my strength increased, my arms and legs moved faster. With my own movements quickening, his speed—which had previously been a blur to my eyes—no longer seemed so formidable. The only problem was that my body couldn't quite keep up with my thoughts because I had to constantly think about which part to transform next.
Smack! "Ugh!" My fist finally buried itself into his stomach. It had been so long since I last punched a person that I couldn't control my strength properly. If he had been struck by an actual lion's paw, he would have been knocked out cold instantly. But since the transformation didn't extend to my shoulders, he managed to stumble back a few paces, clutching his abdomen.
"Cough! Ack!" Though he couldn't stop himself from retching. Spitting up clear fluid, he glared at me with bloodshot eyes. "If you can win, why are you just standing there watching me? It's disgusting."
"I'm showing you. You're nothing special." Besides, an opportunity this perfect to test my abilities didn't come around often. I couldn't exactly ask Jing or Ratel to spar with me, and I couldn't just drag a random stranger off the street and beat them up.
He staggered back to his feet and took a stance. Raising both fists to guard his head, he glared at me. "Fine, do whatever you want. I'll be your plaything for as long as you like. Just leave Lia alone."
"Anyone listening would think I'm dragging her away against her will." "I said, leave Lia behind!" He screamed again at my sarcasm. The mask of expressionlessness he always wore was finally cracking.
"Why? Are you that terrified of your little sister surpassing you?" It must have started three years ago, the day he turned Lia into the village enemy. Lia had mentioned that an outsider had participated in the Lucha Tournament that year as well. By joining hands with the Temple, he had made Lia a sinner in exchange for handing the championship to the Temple. He was the one who had forced Lia to stay bound to this village.
"I need her. She's my only family." He muttered, not even wiping the blood trickling down his chin. It didn't seem like he wanted me to hear it. Rather, he was whispering to himself.
Thud! Struck right through his guard, he stumbled back a step. Perhaps thanks to the pain, a spark of clarity returned to his glazed eyes. "It's not family you need. You just needed a well to drown your inferiority complex in." The water drawn from that well must have masked Ethan's inferiority toward his sister and replenished his depleted self-esteem.
"Shut up." Even though flowing water always finds its way to the sea eventually. "When did you realize you could never beat Lia?" "I said shut up!" Fueled by pure rage, he forced himself up and swung a punch. It was easy to dodge a slow, clumsy fist that had nothing but raw force behind it. Stumbling, Ethan lost his balance and collapsed. Boos erupted from the spectator stands.
"Getting knocked out cold is better than forfeiting, right?" "You... you will pay for this." I didn't know what kind of price I had to pay just for winning a tournament match, but I took it to mean he had no intention of surrendering.
Crack! This time, it was a blow delivered with my own strength, not the lion's muscles. Transforming so many times in a short span had exhausted me, and I feared that if I hit the battered Ethan with beastly strength again, I might actually kill him. Ethan let out a faint groan and collapsed completely, unable to rise again.
A brief silence was followed by a deafening roar that shook the arena. But I couldn't hear it to the end. An overwhelming drowsiness washed over me. The same crushing fatigue I had felt in the Imperial Forest weighed down on my entire body, and I felt my knees hit the ground. I couldn't resist it any longer. Through my fading vision, I saw Jing and Lia looking at me with worried expressions.
Lia watched as her own flesh and blood slowly collapsed, followed shortly by the black-haired traveler sinking to the ground.
"I-it's a draw!" The referee delivered an absurd verdict. Anyone could see that Ethan had collapsed before the black-haired traveler, but the officials' refusal to concede victory was glaringly obvious.
"Hey! Didn't Ethan fall first?" An agitated Jing argued with the referee, but they refused to change their decision. "The one who lost consciousness first was Ran. Ethan can still stand." "Ugh...!" As if to prove the referee's words, Ethan painfully pushed himself up. Ran, however, remained down and did not rise again.
"Since he lost consciousness before the referee could declare a winner, it cannot be considered a victory. A draw is the correct ruling." Lia clenched her fists at the ridiculous excuse. Yet, the draw Ran had secured had kept their slim chances of victory alive. Even if the bookstore owner lost, as long as she won her match, the ultimate victors of Lucha would be Ran and Jing. Just one match. Only one match left. She took a deep breath and balled her hands into fists. Ethan's terrifying face flashed in her mind.
—Don't do anything. If you feel even a shred of guilt toward me, just live the way you always have, Lia. Looking at Ethan's face had always suffocated her. Guilt and fear would rise all the way to her throat.
The tournament was temporarily delayed until Ethan could recover. Normally, waiting for a fighter who was unfit to battle was strictly forbidden. But once again, the Temple bent the rules. However, this brief delay was enough for the spectators, who had been swept up in the excitement, to regain their senses. People began to whisper about the rules that seemed bizarrely biased against one side.
By the time Ethan fully regained his senses and returned to the arena, the cheers had turned into murmurs, and the murmurs into a heavy silence. The match resumed in quiet. The bout between Ethan and the bookstore owner failed to elicit a positive response from the crowd. Despite knowing the vast difference in their skills, Ethan dragged the fight out instead of finishing it quickly. Everyone watching knew he was stalling to recover his stamina. Dodging the punches of the brave bookstore owner, Ethan toyed with him as the match dragged on.
Watching the ugly spectacle, Lia felt the image of Ethan she held in her heart slowly shatter. A single question surfaced in her mind. Since when was Ethan so cowardly? Since when did Ethan start treating me well? Once the thread of doubt was pulled, it unraveled further, dragging her back into her memories. No... since when did I start loathing even the thought of going near a fighting arena?
"The winner, Ethan!" The chain of questions was broken by the referee's voice declaring the victor. But as she stood up for the next match, the flood of memories in her head refused to stop.
Despite Ethan's complete victory, no cheers erupted from the stands. It wasn't a match worthy of applause. The bookstore owner, who had taken a beating from Ethan, was only allowed to leave the arena after being thoroughly used as a tool for Ethan's recovery. The man remaining in the ring was not a victor, but a fraud.
"Ethan versus Lia!" The crowd's silence toward Ethan persisted even as Lia stepped into the arena. Lia slowly walked toward the center where Ethan awaited her. His battered face met her gaze.
"..." "..." The two stared at each other in silence. The entire crowd joined in that strange, heavy quiet.
"Begin!" The referee, having finally announced the start of the match to break the uncomfortable tension, stepped back. Ethan finally spoke. "Give up now, Lia."
Lia silently took her stance. Frowning at her response, Ethan followed suit. "Don't blame me if you get hurt." It was hard to tell if it was a threat or a warning. Ironically, those words pulled Lia back to a moment in the past once more. Where had she heard something similar before?
—Fine, but don't blame me if you get hurt playing around. A long time ago, Ethan had definitely said those exact words. Long before she had ever entered the Lucha Tournament, back when Ethan had shown no interest in Lucha whatsoever. He had playfully put his gloves on her and told her to try attacking him. When Lia hesitated, Ethan had thrown a light punch at her. Just like now.
He threw his punch with that same venomous look on his face back then, too. Lia thought as she slipped past Ethan's fierce punch. And she had thrown her own punch with all her might that day as well. Just like now.
Thud! "Ugh!" The Ethan of that day wouldn't have been hit so easily, but today's Ethan readily took the blow and stumbled back. That day, Ethan had looked at her with a strange expression.
"You've gotten much weaker since that day, Ethan," Lia murmured honestly. A spark of fury flared in Ethan's eyes. "Have you forgotten how many people I've already fought today?" With that self-justification, Ethan swung his fist again.
Lia raised both arms to guard her face, a defense she had often seen Ethan and Jing use. Seeing this, Ethan aimed for her temple but suddenly redirected his strike, kicking her shin with the toe of his boot. As Lia bent forward from the unfamiliar, sharp pain, a barrage of blows rained down on her guarded arms as if he had been waiting for this exact moment. She knew instinctively that if she lowered her arms now, she would never stand up again. She also knew Ethan was far more experienced in this kind of combat than she was.
Yet, it wasn't as terrifying as she had imagined. It felt similar to when she fought Jinger.
—Lia, remember the vital spots. The philtrum, the solar plexus, the temples, the groin. And if you absolutely cannot hit any of those, target the legs to stop them from moving. The lesson Jing had drilled into her head until she was sick of hearing it came back to her. Once again, Lia surrendered herself to her instincts. Seizing the moment his punches slowed, she lunged toward his leg and slammed her elbow down onto the bridge of his foot.
"Aaargh!" It was a lightning-fast movement. She did not miss the brief window of opportunity created by his cry of agony. This time, Lia's fist struck Ethan's shin cleanly. Knowing exactly how much pain a blow to that spot caused from her own recent experience, she slammed her elbow down onto the exact same spot with all her might. The sound of cracking bone was accompanied by an even louder scream.
Only then did Lia release his leg and stumble backward. Looking down at him as he clutched his leg, tears of physiological pain welling in his eyes, Lia wiped away the liquid trickling from her nose. She was out of breath and her heart was pounding, but she didn't feel bad. In fact, she felt completely refreshed. She must have wanted to do this for a very long time. Otherwise, there was no way she would feel this exhilarated.
Lia finally understood what Ethan had been so afraid of. Looking down at the man writhing on the ground, she spoke. "Are you going to forfeit?" He remained silent at her hoarse question. That was answer enough. Lia raised her fist. And drove it straight into his philtrum.