The fourth day of the tournament arrived, bringing with it an atmosphere charged with even more energy than the previous days. After three days of collective sports, today was the real test of physical and mental endurance. The combat trials were more than just a competition; they were a showcase of strength, skill, and strategy. The spectators were eager, coaches were tense, and the competitors had already entered the mental state of warriors, ready to face off in battles that would determine who would dominate the tournament.
The sports complex was filled to capacity, with the stands packed with people and the energy almost electric. Spectators were shouting, cheering, and whistling as they eagerly awaited the start of the fights. Teams of commentators, always dynamic and prepared, set up their stations to cover what was expected to be an epic day of combat. The air was heavy with anticipation. Every athlete was about to face one of the toughest days of their lives.
The First Fight
The first fight was in the free combat category. Luca, one of Ehito's teammates, stepped onto the ring with a composed expression. His opponent was a larger, more muscular fighter from a rival team. The contrast between the two was stark — Luca was lean, his body built for speed and agility, while his adversary had the brute strength to overpower most people.
The crowd buzzed with excitement. "Luca's going to have a hard time against that guy. He's a lot bigger and heavier!" some people murmured. But Luca remained unfazed. He walked up slowly, eyes sharp and focused. As soon as the bell rang, the larger opponent lunged at him with a swift punch. Luca dodged with a fluid step to the side, narrowly avoiding the punch. The force of the swing cut the air, but it didn't touch Luca. Without missing a beat, Luca struck back. He swiftly kicked his opponent in the ribs, causing the crowd to gasp as his opponent staggered back, clearly in pain.
The commentators erupted. "Incredible! What an agile move! He dodged the punch and retaliated with such precision!" Luca's opponent was stunned, but he quickly recovered and charged again. This time, Luca was ready. The opponent swung wildly, trying to overpower him with sheer strength, but Luca continued to weave and evade. Then, in a flash, Luca used his opponent's momentum against him, grabbing his arm, twisting it, and sending him crashing to the ground with a perfectly executed throw.
The crowd was silent for a moment, then erupted in applause. "What a brilliant throw! He won this in a matter of minutes!" The victory was swift and decisive, and Luca left the ring with barely a mark on him. The other competitors, who had been quietly watching, gave him a respectful nod as he returned to his team.
"Well done," Ehito said simply, his voice calm. Luca gave a small, acknowledging nod but didn't seem interested in the praise. For him, this was just another fight, another step toward victory.
The eyes of the crowd shifted as the next match was announced. This one would be the highlight of the day — Ehito's turn. His opponent was Kaito, one of the elite fighters from the rival wealthy team. The air around the ring seemed to thicken as the two walked toward each other, their presence commanding attention.
The Fight Against Kaito
Ehito's name echoed across the arena, and the crowd murmured in anticipation. As he walked toward the ring, his movements were deliberate, each step calm and calculated. His cool demeanor stood in stark contrast to the heated excitement in the air. Kaito, on the other hand, exuded arrogance. His bulky frame towered over Ehito, and his confident smile made it clear that he considered this just another win in his column.
"You're in my way," Kaito sneered as they squared off in the center of the ring. "Prepare to be crushed."
Ehito didn't respond, his expression unreadable. The bell rang, and Kaito wasted no time. He charged forward with a wild swing, aiming for Ehito's head. The force behind it was formidable — it was the kind of punch that could take most people out with a single blow. However, Ehito's reflexes were faster than Kaito could anticipate. With a quick sidestep, he avoided the punch by a hair's breadth, and the force of the attack caused Kaito to stumble forward, leaving him wide open.
Before Kaito could recover, Ehito struck, sending a swift kick to his ribs. The impact was sharp and clean, and Kaito stumbled back, grimacing in pain. The crowd reacted with shock. "How did he avoid that?! Kaito's punch was so fast and strong!" The commentators were equally stunned. "What incredible reflexes! Ehito didn't even flinch!"
Kaito, his pride wounded, roared in anger. He recovered quickly and launched another barrage of punches, each one aimed to overpower Ehito. But Ehito moved like water — fluid, smooth, and just out of reach. Every time Kaito thought he had him, Ehito would dodge, his movements a blur. The crowd began to murmur. "It's like he's playing with him…"
The fight dragged on, with Kaito growing more and more frustrated. He tried everything — punches, kicks, and even grapples — but Ehito never allowed him to land a single blow. Finally, Kaito made a critical mistake. He lunged for Ehito, overcommitting to a punch, and Ehito, anticipating this, sidestepped once again, grabbing Kaito's arm in midair. With a smooth, almost effortless motion, Ehito twisted Kaito's arm behind him, sending him tumbling to the ground.
The impact of Kaito hitting the mat echoed through the arena. Ehito stood over him, not with triumph, but with the cold precision of someone who had simply done what was necessary. "Is this the best you can do?" Ehito asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the stunned silence of the audience.
Kaito, panting and humiliated, tried to push himself up but was clearly in no condition to continue. The referee stepped in, signaling the end of the fight.
"Victory to Ehito!" the judge declared, and the crowd erupted into applause, though Kaito's fans were noticeably silent, their disappointment palpable.
Ehito turned and walked off the ring without a second glance at his defeated opponent. He rejoined his team, where Luca, Lia, and the others were waiting.
"Well done," Luca said again, but this time his voice held a touch of admiration.
Lia, however, had a more thoughtful expression. She observed Ehito closely, noticing the slight furrow of his brow. "You made it look easy," she commented, but there was an underlying concern in her voice. Ehito simply nodded, acknowledging her words without much emotion.
"The next round will be harder," he said. "Stay focused."
The rest of the day proceeded with more intense battles. Ehito's team continued to dominate, but it was clear that there was a growing tension in the air. The wealthy teams, particularly the group Kaito was part of, seemed to be viewing Ehito as the biggest obstacle to their victory. Their eyes, once filled with confidence, now burned with frustration and resentment.
The rest of the fourth day progressed like a whirlwind of fists, shouts, and breathless tension. After his commanding victory over Kaito, Ehito returned to the preparation area where he sat silently, eyes closed, conserving energy. But the world outside was far from calm.
Commentators were still buzzing.
"Did you see that? He dismantled Kaito without breaking a sweat!"
"I've never seen someone move like that. His reflexes, his awareness—this kid's a monster."
The next three combat trials were scheduled back-to-back, and due to their rapid format, each fighter would only have a ten-minute rest before stepping back into the ring.
Second Combat – The Speedster
Ehito's second opponent was Haru, known in the tournament for his lightning-fast movements. Thin but coiled like a spring, Haru was unpredictable. The audience watched closely—this would be speed versus precision.
As the match began, Haru darted forward with bursts of motion that left afterimages in the viewers' eyes. He circled Ehito like a blur, taunting him with quick feints and strikes.
"Let's see if the golden boy can hit what he can't catch," one commentator joked.
But Ehito didn't move. He simply watched. Observed.
And then, it happened.
As Haru went for a jab to Ehito's side, Ehito pivoted. One step. One strike. His palm landed against Haru's chest—just once. The force was surgical. Haru was launched back like a ragdoll, rolling across the floor before coming to a halt. The arena gasped.
"That was one strike! One! He waited for the perfect moment… and ended it instantly!"
Even Haru lay there wide-eyed, dazed and breathless.
Ehito turned to the judges, who hadn't even stood yet.
"Next," he said, his tone flat, eyes already moving past his fallen opponent.
Third Combat – The Brawler
The next challenger was Jin. Towering. Muscular. Built like a wall. He cracked his knuckles and glared at Ehito with raw disdain. "I'm going to break that smug face of yours."
The bell rang.
Jin charged like a bull, fists swinging with the power of a freight train. Each strike whistled through the air, and the ring trembled under his boots.
Ehito dodged the first. Then the second. By the third, he didn't even step away—he blocked it with his palm. The crowd gasped. The sound of impact echoed loud, but Ehito didn't budge. Jin looked stunned.
Then Ehito countered.
A swift elbow to the neck. A knee to the ribs. A sweeping kick to the legs.
Jin collapsed to the ground, coughing, stunned. Ehito walked around him in a slow circle, then delivered a single, brutal punch to the solar plexus. Jin groaned and lost consciousness.
Silence.
"What… what did we just witness?" the announcer whispered. "He dismantled a human tank like it was nothing."
Even the referees were unsure how to proceed for a second.
Fourth Combat – The Technician
His final match of the day was against Rei—a tactical fighter, expert in judo and submission holds. Rei didn't charge recklessly. He circled, studied Ehito, tried to bait him into grappling range.
The two exchanged brief flurries—Rei trying to catch a wrist, a sleeve, anything. Ehito denied him every opportunity, using precise movements and footwork that nullified every angle Rei attempted to create.
Then Ehito shifted.
Suddenly, he allowed Rei to grab his arm. It seemed like a mistake—until it wasn't.
Ehito turned into the hold, reversed the grip, and slammed Rei to the floor with a move so fast it stunned even the referees.
He pinned Rei in a hold of his own, forcing the air from his lungs. Rei tapped out in less than three seconds.
"He let himself be caught… to catch him back."
"This boy isn't just strong. He's a tactician."
The entire arena stood up. Spectators, students, even rival coaches were on their feet, staring at the cold, calm figure walking back to his bench.
Backstage – Reactions
Lia watched everything with wide eyes. There was pride, yes, but also a flicker of unease. "He's… not even trying," she murmured. "He's holding back."
Luca nodded beside her. "He's not fighting to win. He's fighting to end."
The rival team—the rich boys, the elites—were furious. Kaito watched from the shadows, his jaw clenched. The others were visibly shaken.
"That bastard made us look weak."
"We need to take him down. No matter what."
But deep inside, even they knew—Ehito wasn't someone you could defeat with brute strength or numbers. He was operating on an entirely different level.
The End of Day 4
As the fourth day ended, Ehito remained undefeated. His name was on everyone's lips—students, coaches, spectators, and commentators.
The scoreboard didn't just show his victories. It showed domination.
"He's not just the top of this tournament," one commentator whispered. "He's something else entirely."
But as the crowd left and night began to fall, Ehito sat in silence, hands resting on his knees. He wasn't celebrating. He wasn't smiling.
Because to him, these fights weren't about proving something.
They were about control. Precision. Discipline.
And above all, they were just the beginning.
As the day came to a close, the air was thick with anticipation for the final rounds. The tournament was far from over, but one thing was certain — Ehito had sent a clear message. No one would stand in his way easily.