Chapter 26: Rank Evaluation Last Part

The Adventurer's Guild arena crackled with raw energy, its scorched earth and cracked stone still smoldering from the clash of swords and elemental fury. The stands buzzed with the awestruck murmurs of adventurers, their eyes locked on the battlefield where Haruto stood, clutching his stomach, blood seeping from his mouth. His dark hair was matted with sweat, his shirt torn from Malric's earlier attack, yet his eyes burned with defiance. Across from him, Malric, his longsword gleaming with a menacing light, dashed forward, his blade slicing from right to left in a deadly arc aimed at Haruto's head.

Haruto's eyes widened for a split second, his heart lurching as he thought he was dead. Instinct kicked in, and he lowered his body just in time, Malric's sword passing overhead with a sharp whoosh, the blade grazing the air where his head had been. Haruto crossed his sword above him, the metal glinting as he channeled wind into his legs, the element swirling around them in a faint green glow. With a powerful thrust, he launched himself backward, flipping through the air and landing in a crouch. He stood upright, his breath ragged, and summoned a lightning blade, the crackling blue energy forming a shimmering edge around his sword.

Malric, his weathered face etched with surprise, walked slowly toward Haruto. "Impressive," he said, his voice low but admiring. "I've never seen someone use elements so accurately."

Both combatants enhanced their bodies with divine energy, their speed surging as they dashed toward each other, swords raised for a clash. Their blades met with a deafening clang, sparks flying as metal ground against metal. But Haruto suddenly cut off his lightning blade, the energy dissipating with a sharp crack. The abrupt move threw Malric off balance, and Haruto swung his sword toward Malric's head. Malric reacted swiftly, summoning a wind element that roared to life, a gust that threw Haruto back—not far, but enough to disrupt his attack.

Haruto, undeterred, shifted his strategy. He transformed his lightning blade into an archery form, the energy coalescing into a glowing bow in his hands. He aimed and launched three lightning-charged arrows in rapid succession, each crackling with electric fury as they streaked toward Malric.

Malric dodged the first arrow, his body twisting with practiced agility, but the next two struck true—one piercing his hand, the other his leg. Shockwaves coursed through his body, the electric charge searing his flesh and drawing a grimace of pain. Blood trickled from the wounds, staining his armor.

While Malric was distracted, Haruto combined his lightning blade with wind, the elements swirling together in a vibrant, spiraling energy. He threw a slash toward Malric, the attack cutting through the air like a storm. Malric noticed just in time, diverting his sword with his own lightning element, the blue sparks clashing in a brilliant flash. Haruto was almost upon him, closing the distance with terrifying speed, but Malric's reflexes were too fast. He crossed his sword and diverted himself to the right, forming his own archery in a fluid motion. He launched arrows at Haruto, their tips gleaming with wind energy.

Haruto shifted to a reverse mode, combining his lightning element with his sword, the blade crackling with power. Malric blocked the counterattack with precision, their elemental forces colliding in a small explosion that shook the arena, a burst of light and sound that sent both fighters skidding backward through the smoke. Malric didn't give Haruto time to recover, emerging from the explosion's haze to attack. His sword slashed Haruto's left chest, the blade tearing through flesh and cloth. Haruto knelt down, clutching his chest as blood dripped onto the ground, staining the scorched earth red.

Malric walked toward him, his voice steady but filled with respect. "Very efficient use of elemental techniques and swordplay. Truly, it's been a while since I felt this good." He struck his sword into the ground, the blade embedding with a thud. "Rank B, Haruto. Master every technique, and you'll become the strongest in history." He turned away, his figure silhouetted against the torchlight.

Healers rushed from the sidelines, their robes fluttering as they approached Haruto to administer emergency first aid. Renjiro, Selena, Yuki, Takeshi, Reina, and Himari hurried down from the stands, their faces a mix of worry and pride. Reina's eyes were wide with concern, her voice trembling. "Haruto!"

Selena knelt beside him, her hands glowing with a soft, silver light as she used her healing technique to slow the bleeding. Himari joined her, her own magic weaving around Haruto's wounds, the combined efforts stabilizing him as the blood flow stopped. A high-rank healer, her face stern, approached. "He needs stitches to avoid more bleeding and prevent infection."

Renjiro nodded, his usual smirk replaced with urgency. "Let's do this. It's better."

Yuki, her own bruises still fresh, agreed. "Yeah, it's better."

Haruto, his face pale but resolute, put his hand on Renjiro's shoulder for support, careful not to strain his injuries. They walked toward the stitching room, the group trailing behind. The high-rank healer led them to a room that felt different from a typical hospital—clean, bright, with a pleasant, herbal scent that filled the air. Takeshi sniffed, his bandaged arm shifting as he grinned. "This place smells very good."

The nurse, threading a needle, smiled. "Because it's always well taken care of with guild money." She worked quickly, her hands steady as she stitched Haruto's wounds, the needle moving with practiced precision. Moments later, she finished, stepping back. "Wait, boy, I'll bring a T-shirt since yours is completely torn." She left the room, leaving Haruto, Renjiro, and Takeshi alone.

Haruto glanced at Renjiro, who stood with his arms folded, staring at him with a scowl. "Why are you so angry?" Haruto asked, his voice tired but curious.

Renjiro's eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. "Do you know some of those attacks could've killed you? You were slacking in the entire match."

Haruto waved a hand dismissively, wincing slightly from the movement. "I'm alive."

Renjiro's frustration boiled over. "What if you couldn't dodge? What if you died? You charged at someone way stronger. I'm not saying it's not good, but you have to think about your mom. Doing something reckless—what about our revenge?"

Haruto's expression darkened, sadness flickering in his eyes at the mention of his mother and their shared vow. The weight of Renjiro's words hung heavy, the room falling silent.

Takeshi, sensing the tension, interrupted. "What's this revenge?"

Renjiro's stare turned cold, so intense it made Takeshi flinch. "It doesn't concern you," Renjiro snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Takeshi, unnerved, spoke to himself under his breath. "They're talking about something serious." He stepped back, starting to walk out, but Haruto stopped him, his voice softer. "Let's go, Takeshi."

Haruto turned, clutching his head and scratching it, trying to shake off the heavy mood. Renjiro sighed. "Leave this conversation here. We'll talk sometime." Haruto nodded, a silent agreement passing between them.

Renjiro's smirk returned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Wait, the nurse is bringing a T-shirt. Are you going out without a shirt? Wanna see Reina's reaction while you're half-naked?"

Takeshi's mouth dropped, his eyes widening as a grin spread across his face. "Haruto loves Reina?"

Haruto's face flushed, his voice defensive. "It's not like that!"

Renjiro leaned closer, his smirk widening. "Then why did you and her kiss each other?"

Takeshi lost his cool entirely, his jaw dropping further as he spun toward Haruto. "Bastard, if you don't say anything, you're dead!" He stepped forward, his fists clenched, the sound of his knuckles cracking echoing in the room.

Haruto, nervous but grinning, raised his hands. "Let's talk!" His voice carried a playful edge, trying to diffuse the tension.

Takeshi's eyes gleamed with mischief. "I'll definitely talk," he said, his hands still clenched, the crack of his knuckles punctuating the moment as the room filled with a mix of laughter and lingering tension.