Within fifteen minutes, Baleâs match had already ended.
His opponent, who ranked thirteenth among the orphans, didnât go down easily. From the moment the fight began, she had pushed herself harder than expected, especially after she realized the difference between them was not something effort alone could close.
Her Cognis surged wildly as the fight progressed.
She didnât hold back in the slightest.
Even when the strain began to show, even when her breathing became unstable and her movements slightly delayed, she continued to force more Cognis through her body, ignoring the danger that came with exhausting it.
But in the end...
It was not enough.
Bale defeated her without showing much signs of struggle. His movements remained steady, controlled, and most importantly, careful.
He never allowed the fight to turn into something excessive and majorly avoided pushing her into the state where low Cognis backlash could damage her body permanently.
When it ended, his group cheered loudly, their voices carrying pride as he walked back to his seat with a calm expression.
The stage cleared quickly and the holographic numbers shifted again, signaling for the next match.
Keith, against another boy from the orphan side.
He walked toward the platform in his usual manner.
Slow, shoulders slumped and arms hanging loosely by his sides.
His steps dragged slightly, as if even walking required effort he did not want to give, from the way he looked at his opponent...
It was obvious.
If this had been a simple spar without consequences, he would have forfeited without a second thought.
The guard stepped forward, immediately commencing the fight and left the stage.
In that instant, Keithâs whole lazy demeanor changed.
The lazy look vanished completely, his posture straightened and his eyes sharpened.
That dullness he had on his face was gone.
What remained was focus that made him look completely different.
The fight lasted longer than Baleâs, but it wasnât because they were equal, from the very peak of the fight.
Keith controlled everything.
The boy rushed forward immediately, closing the distance with speed. It was clear he understood the danger of letting Keith perform gun alchemy freely. He knew that he had to be the one to attack first and keep the rhythm in his favour.
His spear thrust forward, straight toward Keithâs head.
Keith tilted slightly, left, then right, then left again with each thrust missing by a small margin.
The boy continued attacking, not giving him any space or time, pushing forward with relentless pressure.
To an outsider...
It clearly looked like Keith was being pushed back.
But...
To the boy, thrusting his spear at him, he felt something was off.
The movement, the flow.
It was like watching a snake coil around its prey without being noticed.
Then...
It happened in a blink.
Keithâs right arm moved, hooking the spear under his armpit, trapping it, then at the same time, his other hand shot forward, grabbing the boyâs wrist.
Before the boy could react...
His body was flipped, thrown onto the ground.
Hard.
He barely had time to process what happened before he saw something coming down toward his face.
A shadow moving fast.
He rolled instinctively.
Keithâs hand slammed down on the ground where his head had been, holding a steel bar, the metallic sound of the bar hitting the ground echoed little in the arena.
Clap!
In that same motion, Keith activated his alchemy and the steel reshaped, forming into an Acu-Vector Mk.I.
"Tsk... it would have been better if you just took the hit to the face," Keith muttered, frowning slightly.
He exhaled standing straight.
"Ahh... this is getting really stressful."
He raised the gun, his eyes locking onto the boy again as the boy rushed him, throwing daggers.
"Super stressful."
Keith lifted the gun slightly, deflecting the first two daggers with minimal movement.
His sharp gaze slowly faded, now returning to that lazy look again.
"Mega stressful."
He stepped aside, weaving through the remaining daggers, then shifted back just enough to avoid the spear that came at him again.
"I donât understand you people."
His voice rose slightly, enough for the boy to hear clearly while he continued dodging the boyâs spear attacks effortlessly.
"Why are you orphans doing your best...?"
He tilted his head, then paused.
"...No, that came out wrong."
He leaned back, avoiding another thrust, then bent low as the spear swung across him.
"What are you talking about?!" the boy shouted, frustration showing clearly.
Keith continued as if he didnât hear him.
"Why are you risking your lives to beat us when you already know the difference in power?"
He stepped back again, avoiding another strike without urgency.
"I mean... the reward isnât even that worth it."
He pointed the Acu-Vector Mk.I. at the boy, which made him flinch and ready himself for impact, but...
"If I were you, I would have forfeited the moment I realized how terrifying my opponent is."
The boy froze for a moment.
"Huh?!"
The whole arena fell quiet, Fay slapped her hand against her face shaking her head in embarrassment, other members of their group did the same.
This guy...
They all thought at once.
Even some of the Chief Guards, and some other guards sitting on the higher rows in the arena, could not help but stare at him with awkward expressions.
Out of context...Keith was referring to Garethâs match.
"Donât âhuhâ me," Keith continued, pointing toward Gareth.
"Like, how can someone see a big guy like him over there..."
Keith raised his hand lazily and pointed toward Gareth, who had been watching the exchange with a stunned look on his face.
Gareth blinked once, then pointed at himself as if to confirm what he had just heard. His gaze shifted from Keith to Freed, who sat on the right side of Felix, then to Felix himself, and finally to Page seated on the left.
Only after that did he look back at Keith again, his expression innocent, almost confused, as if he was not sure whether to take the comment seriously or not.
"The moment he doesnât waste time with his movement and is about to grab my neck..."
Keith demonstrated the whole scenario, lifting his hand and mimicking the action with surprising accuracy, as if he had already recorded the situation clearly in his head.
"I would forfeit immediately."
He finished the sentence with a dramatic tone, even adding a slight shrug as if the answer was obvious.
"Wonât you shut up already!"
The boy finally snapped, unable to endure Keithâs continuous rambling any longer. His grip tightened on his spear, his voice rising as frustration spilled out.
"You clearly canât understand why we orphans must try to win this fight!"
He waved his hand sharply, his brows furrowed, anger written all over his face.
Keith looked at him, his expression barely changing, then spoke in a dry tone that carried no emotion.
"Well... isnât it because you guys are orphans?"
He paused briefly, tilting his head.
"Thatâs why you crave recognition."
The words landed without force, yet they cut deep.
The boyâs eyes widened immediately, his body stiffening as if he had been struck.
At the same time, many of the orphans seated in the stands felt their thoughts freeze for a second, because what Keith said... was not entirely wrong.
He really hit the nail on the right spot.
The same thought echoed silently across them.
The arena gradually fell more into silence, the earlier little noise replaced by an awkward stillness as people exchanged glances without speaking.
Keith, however, did not seem to notice or care.
"Letâs just end this as a draw."
He spoke casually, scratching his back with the Acu-Vector Mk.I. in his hand, while his other hand rose to cover his mouth as he yawned lightly.
"Why would I agree to that? Why would you even suggest that?"
The boyâs voice rose again, this time filled with more confusion as well as anger.
Keith lowered his gaze slightly, looking at the gun in his hand.
"Itâs because..."
He paused, as if choosing his words slowly.
"Looking at this gun, I know that if we continue this fight, even though I donât plan on killing you, at the end of the day Iâm not as strong or as skilled as those monsters over there."
He tilted his head slightly toward the stands, subtly referring to the higher-ranked candidates without naming them.
"So, Iâll have to use this to injure you badly... and I donât want to do that."
His voice remained calm, almost tired.
"I donât even like killing, talkless of making a person bleed."
He exhaled quietly, his eyes half-lidded again, but there was something deeper beneath that laziness.
"But I have already killed someone... and Iâve watched people close to me die."
For a brief moment, his gaze lost focus.
The faces of those from his group who died during the fifth trial second wave surfaced faintly in his mind.
His grip tightened slightly around the gun.
"Sometimes..."
He spoke again, slower now.
"I wonder what has changed about me... from the boy who only knew how to sleep and laze around in his mansion, without caring about anything..."
His voice dropped.
"...to someone carrying all this weight... someone who has already lived through things an adult Alchemist would face... at the age of twelve."
He let out a long breath.
"I really wonder what my future is going to look like... after all this ends."
Then he stopped with no dramatic pause or forced tension.
He simply stopped speaking.
And his words stayed in the air, heavy and quiet, as everyone in the arena listened.
The boy lowered his head slightly, thinking.
After a few seconds, he spoke again, his tone more serious than before.
"If I choose to end this as a draw... would you take me as your servant?"
Keithâs reaction was immediate.
"No... no way."
He shook both his head and hands at once, his face showing clear rejection.
"Huh?"
The boy stared at him, completely stunned.
"Youâre the one asking for a draw, and you donât even want to help me by taking me as your servant?"
"Why are you saying it in such a weird way!"
Keith frowned, clearly uncomfortable now.
"What is weird about it?"
The boy stepped forward, gripping his spear tightly.
"I will keep fighting, even if I get seriously injured or die... unless you agree to take me as your servant."
Keith stared at him.
For a moment, he looked like he wanted to refuse again, but then he glanced at the arena.
"Ahh..." He sighed loudly. "Okay... okay."
He raised his hand in surrender.
"I agree."
The boyâs face brightened immediately.
"Alright."
He turned toward the guard without hesitation.
"I forfeit."
His voice was loud and clear.
The guard nodded and stepped forward.
"Winner"
He pointed at Keith, his expression holding a mix of awkwardness, after watching Keith rant his way from actually fighting.
No one cheered, especially not from his group.
They simply just stared at him.
Fay covered more of her face with both hands, clearly embarrassed, while Bale gave an awkward smile, unsure how to react.
It wasnât that they wanted a brutal fight.
It was just that...
They understood him too well.
Everything Keith said... all those deep and thoughtful words...
At the end of the day...
He just didnât want to fight, because he found it too stressful. So, he used what he was best at.
Talking and convincing to escape situations he didnât want to deal with.
His so-called âtalk alchemy.â
Keith walked back slowly to his seat, dragging his steps again as if all the earlier seriousness had never existed.
He sat down heavily.
"Argh... this is so stressful."
Without waiting for Fay or anybody to say anything...
He lifted his arm, covered his eyes...
And fell asleep.