The dojo held its breath.
Nephis's blood hadn't even dried on the mat when the next names echoed through the chamber.
"Caster."
A ripple swept across the room—part awe, part disbelief.
Caster rose.
No show off . No smile. Just quiet, lethal grace.
He adjusted his gloves, tightened the straps on his boots, and offered the instructor a curt nod before stepping into the ring.
Gold streaks ran through his clothing—subtle, but unmistakable. He nearly as skilled as nephis .
He was an elite.
Top scorer. Top ranker. Lightning reflexes. No hint of arrogance. No hint of cruelty.
He moved like someone forged to kill .Every step precise. Every breath aligned.
Then came Ultron.
No salute. No acknowledgement.
Just silence—and those empty, mechanical eyes.
He looked less like a fighter and more like something built.Because that's exactly what he was.
Caster bowed—a slight, respectful motion.
"I saw your match with Nephis," he said quietly. "She's not an easy opponent."He straightened. "I won't make the mistake of underestimating you."
Ultron said nothing.
Caster exhaled.
"Ready when you are."
The instructor raised a hand.
"Begin."
Caster vanished. To the shock of ultron. He was faster then he expected
A flicker. Then—CRACK.A palm strike slammed into Ultron's lower back.
He staggered—just one step.
But that was enough.
Another flicker—A jab to the ribs. A sweep to the calf .Impact after impact.
Surgical. Blinding. Beautiful.
Caster moved like living lightning—untouchable, untamed.
Ultron flinched .He didn't speak , but it was easy to know he was hurt just by his expression.
But he was watching.
Learning.
By the sixth strike, something shifted.
Caster darted in with a sharp knee to the ribs—Ultron caught it. Not cleanly, but enough to kill the force.
Caster's brow furrowed.
He feinted high. Struck low.
They were blocked. Sloppy, but it worked.
He's adapting, Caster thought.
He slowed—just a fraction—testing.
Caster burst forward—this time, a feint within a feint .Low kick disguised as a spin. Twisting ankle. Follow-through sweep—
Ultron jumped.
Clean. Precise. Timed to perfection.
Caster's sweep missed by an inch.
He rolled through it, teeth gritted, and twisted into a spinning kick.
the hit landed . Ultron blocked it with his arm flinching.
Then Ultron moved.
Same move. Same form.
But heavier. Crueller.
A strike meant to break.
Caster ducked—barely.
The chill crawled in.
Ultron wasn't reacting anymore. He knew he would not be able to mach his speed. So he changed his fighting style from defensive to agressive.
Under the timespan of ten seconds.
Caster had struck sixteen times. Ultron had struck once.
But that one strike nearly dislocated his shoulder,while caster had broken his 4th and 5th rib makeing it harder to breath and cracked his left clavicle making his arm movements harder.
but now each of his movements were Sharper.
He's learning.
For the first time, Caster's calm cracked.
He surged forward, speed humming at the edges, the floor cracking beneath the pressure.
A six-hit combo:
Palm to solar plexus
Elbow to chin
Sweep to back knee
Heel to ribs
Jab to throat
Step-through shoulder throw—
Ultron twisted in mid-air under a split second launched a punch as fast as caster.
SLAM.
Caster hit the mat.
Silence.
He rolled over, coughing—blood trickling from his lip.
No one's ever reversed that throw.
Ultron stepped forward.
Slow. Silent. limping blood dripping from his mouth
His head tilted
Not satisfied. Not done.
Caster rose, chest heaving. Sweat streamed down his brow. he had swelling on his forehead making it impossible to open his right eye. His aura flickered—remnants of speed bleeding into the air like smoke.
Everyone felt it.
This wasn't about winning anymore.
It was about ego.
Ultron had made a knockoff of Nephis's techniques. and-
The golden boy…was drowning in silence.