Chapter 1420: The academy fighting style

"...Next up... Student Mobillax from Professor Baroque’s division versus student Merina from Professor Robin Burton’s division."

Robin nearly bolted to his feet in reflex, but something inside him urged restraint. He clenched his fists, breathed deeply, and forced himself to sit back down. Something—an instinct, perhaps—told him not to rob that student of her chance.

Instead, he took a moment to gather himself and calmly turned to the girl sitting behind him, asking,

"Excuse me... why are Professor Robin Burton’s students being sent out one after another to fight students from different professors?"

"Oh, I see you’ve finally cooled off a little. That’s good. Those poor kids have been through enough—they don’t need more chaos in their lives."

The girl spoke in a soft, almost sleepy voice, her half-lidded eyes glancing down at the arena.

"...They were selected to open the week-long tournament. It’s a tradition here. By putting them up front, they’re eliminated early, sparing them from more intense pressure later on. At the same time, it gives the audience a chance to spot the likely victors early.

It builds hype, draws attention, and increases the stakes for betting. Whether it’s that gorilla brute who won earlier or the guy coming next, Mobillax—both are high-ranking favorites predicted to land among the top ten."

"You sound like you know a lot about these things..."

Robin’s eyes narrowed slightly. It was unusual to hear such sharp analysis from a mere spectator.

"All of us here are involved, friend. Every person seated in these stands will either be fighting in the next seven days or came to watch someone who will.

Some are students, some are family, and some just love the thrill of the tournament and came to place wagers. Everyone knows how these things work—it’s not really a secret or anything hidden."

The girl gave him a small, knowing smile.

Robin nodded slowly several times, absorbing her words. Then his eyes drifted back to the platform with furrowed brows, heavy thoughts swirling in his mind.

Was this all orchestrated by Altheira?

Had she deliberately placed his students at the very start—to get them humiliated publicly and drag his name through the dirt?

Was this her way of coercing him into returning to teaching?

BAP!

Without much delay, two new figures appeared on the stage.

The first was a young man with a single, horn-like spike jutting from his forehead, dark purple with black undertones. His skin was rough and covered in blemishes.

Opposite him stood a young woman with a smaller, more slender frame. She wore a flowing robe and a large hat that almost covered her whole head. Her hair and eyes shimmered with a translucent green, like glowing jelly.

Between them, a middle-aged man—likely in his fifties—descended calmly to the platform.

He turned to both students and spoke firmly,

"Standard conditions apply. Destruction of one’s cultivation in any form is strictly forbidden.

Direct killing is also banned.

Violation of either rule will result in immediate imprisonment, and in severe cases, execution.

Aside from that—anything goes. Understood?"

"Understood."

Both nodded in agreement.

"Good."

The referee levitated back up, then with a sharp wave of his hand, shouted,

"Begin!"

The crowd stirred, rumbling with excitement—cheers, gasps, and energy crackling in the air.

WOOSH! WOOSH!

The girl took two large steps backward, quickly opening distance between herself and her opponent.

The horned young man, by contrast, walked forward calmly, almost arrogantly. One hand was folded behind his back, while the other stretched forward toward her, wearing a confident smirk.

"So we’re starting with retreat? That’s not a good sign. The crowd’ll get bored real fast if you keep running.

More than half the people here today bet I’d win in under twenty seconds...

and I love breaking expectations!"

"You won’t win today!"

The girl shouted in a voice low but fierce.

She spun her hands over her head, drawing on her inner energy—

BLOOP! BLOOP!

A thick mass of green jelly erupted from her body and rapidly formed into the shape of a small dragon floating above her like a summoned weapon.

"Not in twenty seconds!"

With that final declaration, she lunged forward at full speed.

She gripped the slime-dragon like a blade, and in one graceful motion, she swung it down at her opponent from above—

SWOOSH!

The horned student instinctively stepped back to avoid the blow. But that brief hesitation gave her an opening.

She charged forward again and aimed a palm strike directly at his nose.

"What in the world is she doing?!"

Robin leaned forward, visibly irritated, pointing at the stage.

"Her physical strength is clearly low, and her body isn’t built for close-range combat. She should be fighting from a distance! Why close the gap?!"

...In the arena, the purple-horned student flung his head back and performed two smooth backflips to dodge the strike entirely.

Then he chuckled darkly.

"Now you’ll see... the true strength of a Soul Master!"

A silver portal erupted next to him, radiating a torrent of unstable energy.

"This is bad,"

Robin’s brow furrowed even more.

"Is he about to use a soul-based mental attack? Maybe summoning soul creatures?"

"SOUL FIST!!"

The boy’s arm surged with spiritual energy.

He lunged forward—

BAAAM!

His fist struck the ground with devastating force, but the girl managed to dodge just in time, escaping with only a light injury.

But before she could even catch her breath, the boy sprang up again with a flying kick charged with soul energy.

She brought the jelly-dragon in front of her to block—

BAAM!!

Both she and the dragon were thrown back through the air.

"Huh?! What’s going on here?! Why would a Soul Master fight with his fists?!"

Robin’s expression twisted with confusion and disbelief.

"Is that even a thing?!"

"Sir... you seriously don’t know the signature style of Dawn light Stellar Academy?"

The girl behind him laughed lightly.

"What style?"

Robin turned to her quickly, ignoring the increasing number of explosions on the stage.

"The close-combat style, of course."

She smiled brightly.

"The current headmistress, The Monarch, Her Majesty Altheira, uses her fundamental law to close the distance between herself and her enemies—

then she engages them in brutal hand-to-hand combat.

That’s how she defeats her enemies.

That’s why... even some of the Behemoths are afraid of her."

"Her Majesty Altheira became widely celebrated throughout the entirety of the Middle Belt, not because she leaned solely on her major fundamental law or hidden reserves of power to win her battles—but because she used them merely as tools, as instruments to open an opportunity. She never allowed her law to determine the outcome of a fight. Instead, it was always her unmatched swordsmanship that decided the victor. It didn’t matter who her opponent was—no matter how strong they were, as long as her sword remained in her grasp, she would fight. Even if you stripped her of her major fundamental law, she would still stand tall, still engage, and still be terrifyingly powerful."

"This sparked a kind of passionate admiration for her distinctive approach to combat when she first took the helm of the academy. A large number of young students across the academy began mimicking her style—they used their personal laws not as weapons in themselves, but as tools to create gaps in defense, opportunities to close distance and engage in direct combat. Later, Professor Shaddad joined our ranks and brought with him a significant leap in the physical conditioning and combat readiness of the students. After that, the Soul Master Barok arrived, becoming known across the sector for his ingenious use of soul force to reinforce his body and fight up close, blending soul arts with brutal physical combat. Those three together, they ushered in a whole new age at Dawn light Stellar Academy."

Then she gestured toward the combat arena.

"What you’re witnessing now is the combat style of Dawnlight Star Academy—the academy’s signature doctrine. Everyone here fights in this manner. It has become the cultural and martial backbone of our institution. This very style is what brought us broad acclaim across the Middle Belt and secured our place as the number one academy in Sector 99. If you paid close attention, even the previous duel was nothing but relentless, close-quarters combat too."

"..."

Robin held her gaze, captivated, staring deeply into her dazzling eyes—eyes that shimmered like galaxies trapped beneath the surface—for several long seconds.

"Are you... really a student?"

"Are

you

a student?"

The girl responded with a teasing smile, lifting one eyebrow and wiggling it twice in playful mockery.

"Student Merina has lost consciousness. The winner—Mobillax!"

Roars erupted across the arena, cheers and jeers colliding in chaotic chorus.

"Heh~"

Robin turned back to look at the stage, sighing as he saw the girl lying unconscious on her back.

"What a waste... That slime construct could have been weaponized far more effectively. It had potential."

"There you are!"

Shadad’s thunderous voice rang out from the edge of the stands.

"Please, I’m begging you—stop overthinking everything, big brother! These kids didn’t mean to offend you. They’re still learning. They’re trying their best!"

"...Fine I was on my way out anyway."

Robin slowly rose from his seat and began stepping down the aisle, making his way toward the stairs.

("...Next up... Student Kataf from Professor Sisera’s division versus student Vanir from Professor Robin Burton’s division.")

"Urghhhh..."

Shadad cringed at the announcement, instinctively turning to comfort Robin before the next blow.

"It’s alright. It’s fine. They’re good kids."

Robin exhaled a deep breath and nodded several times, speaking as if convincing himself.

"For their age and circumstances, they’ve shown effort and determination, and—"

"I surrender!"

Vanir’s voice came from above, groggy and nonchalant.

He hadn’t even left his seat in the bleachers—he raised one lazy hand in the air and called out sleepily.

"..."

Robin stared at him blankly for several long, painful seconds.

Then, without another word, he gently patted Shadad on the shoulder.

"Wait here. I’m just going to strangle him real quick and I’ll be right back."