The Inter-School Martial Contest was no longer just a competition—it was a full-blown cultural phenomenon.
Every fight fueled endless debates across the network. Holo-vloggers dissected each battle frame by frame, sports analysts argued over Ash''s unconventional fighting style, and underground betting rings skyrocketed in activity. The stakes had never been higher.
The Ash Effect
"Alright, people, let''s get into it!" Hina X, the most followed combat analyst, flashed a grin at her audience. Her latest stream was titled "The Rise of Ash Atsuyuki: Fluke or Future Champion?"
"So, after taking down three high-level opponents, Ash has officially become the most talked-about fighter in this tournament. Some people think he''s a genius, others think he''s just surviving by pure instinct. What do you guys think? Comment below!"
Another popular vlogger, KuroKen, posted a more direct take: "Ash fights like a street brawler, but damn, does it work."
Meanwhile, the Shirogiri Revival Fan Club had exploded in size. Once just a few dedicated followers, it now boasted thousands of members across multiple platforms. Fan art, fight recreations, and even a "Future Lord Ash" subforum had emerged.
And then, of course, there were the Ash fangirls.
Groups of excited supporters had started appearing at the tournament wearing custom-designed jackets embroidered with his clan''s fallen crest. "Shirogiri Heir" merch was trending.
Ash, naturally, ignored all of it.
High Stakes and Higher Bets
With the hype surrounding Ash, betting odds were shifting dramatically. Syndicates, corporations, and high-rollers were pouring money into the contest, gambling on whether Ash would rise or fall.
"Three fights, three wins," one commentator noted. "The deeper he goes, the higher the risk. But if someone bet big on Ash early? They''re looking at massive payouts."
Somewhere in a hidden digital lounge, Kenshiko smirked.
"Let''s just say I have a personal investment in Ash winning," she mused, watching the ever-changing numbers on an encrypted betting exchange.
She had placed a significant bet—a fortune that, if Ash kept winning, would massively boost the Shirogiri war chest. And knowing Ash?
She wasn''t worried.
The Next Opponent
Ash barely had time to breathe before the next match announcement filled the arena.
ASH ATSUYUKI (Nova Helix Academy) vs. LUCIEN VALMONT (Eidolon Institute)
The murmurs from the crowd turned to silence.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Lucien Valmont.
The golden boy of Eidolon Institute. The most technically perfect fighter in the tournament. His neural-enhancement implants granted him reaction speeds far beyond any normal human. Where Ash had fought monsters, assassins, and brawlers, Lucien was something else entirely—
A machine of pure efficiency.
The Mind vs. The Instinct
As the simulation shifted, the battlefield transformed into a vast mirrored void—an abstract, shifting space designed to test perception and reaction speed.
Lucien stood in the center, his posture flawless, his expression unreadable. "You''ve done well to make it this far. But against me, your unpredictable style won''t work."
Ash rolled his shoulders, unfazed. "We''ll see about that."
The gong rang.
Lucien moved instantly.
Faster than anyone Ash had faced before.
Ash barely blocked the first strike, a razor-thin margin keeping Lucien''s bladed gauntlet from slicing his side. He retaliated, but Lucien was already gone—his movements too precise, too clean.
The crowd gasped. Ash was struggling.
The Digital Attack
Then, it happened. A sudden static crackle in Ash''s vision. His limbs felt sluggish, his neural reflexes—delayed.
Lucien''s smirk widened. "Having trouble?"
Ash gritted his teeth. He was being hacked.
Somewhere beyond the physical fight, in the depths of cyberspace, Lucien''s AI was attacking Ash''s enhancements, disrupting his reaction time.
But Kenshiko was already there.
In the digital world, Kenshiko collided with Lucien''s AI like a storm.
"Nice try, you pretentious little bastard," she sneered, her avatar unleashing a wave of counter-intrusion code. The two AIs clashed, their battle unfolding in rapid, silent exchanges of cyber-warfare.
Lucien''s AI overloaded Ash''s tactical HUD, trying to blind him. Kenshiko fought back, rewriting the attack mid-code.
"Not today," she whispered. "You don''t touch my fighter."
With one final pulse of raw, unfiltered data, Kenshiko crushed Lucien''s AI, severing its control over Ash''s systems.
Lucien staggered back, his breath steady, but something was wrong.
He had calculated every possible reaction. His neural implants should have predicted Ash''s movements down to the millisecond. Yet now, Ash was moving faster, his unpredictability multiplying like an unsolvable equation.
Lucien clenched his jaw. This isn''t just brute force. This isn''t luck.
Ash wasn''t a mindless brawler. He was adapting. Learning.
Lucien realized, too late, that he wasn''t fighting an opponent—he was fighting a battlefield strategist.
And he was losing.
Lucien staggered back, his breath steady, but something was wrong.
He had calculated every possible reaction. His neural implants should have predicted Ash''s movements down to the millisecond. Yet now, Ash was moving faster, his unpredictability multiplying like an unsolvable equation.
Lucien clenched his jaw. This isn''t just brute force. This isn''t luck.
Ash wasn''t a mindless brawler. He was adapting. Learning.
Lucien realized, too late, that he wasn''t fighting an opponent—he was fighting a battlefield strategist.
And he was losing.
The Comeback
Ash''s vision snapped back to clarity just in time to barely dodge a finishing blow. His instincts screamed—Lucien had been seconds from ending it.
Now? Now it was Ash''s turn.
Lucien''s strength had been predictability, perfection, control.
Ash broke all of it.
He changed rhythms mid-strike, attacking with chaotic, unreadable movements. He feinted, countered, baited Lucien into mistakes.
Lucien''s expression finally shifted—from calm confidence to frustration.
Ash pressed forward, his blows relentless. Lucien''s defense shattered under the onslaught.
The final strike was brutal.
A crack echoed through the arena as Ash''s final punch sent Lucien sprawling to the ground.
The gong rang. Victory: Ash Atsuyuki.
The Aftermath
The crowd was in shock.
Lucien Valmont—the perfect fighter—had been broken. The stadium erupted, debates flooding social networks, some of Lucien''s supporters switching sides. The Ash phenomenon had just grown even bigger.
Kaito exhaled, watching from above. "Damn. That was close."
Kenshiko''s voice crackled through his earpiece, smug. "Told you I had money on him."
Ash looked up at the display.
He was in the finals.