Chapter 17: Projection vs Momentum

The arena gates slid open with a low mechanical groan.

Jason Mowbray stepped out first, shoulders loose, breath steady.

From the opposite gate, Ryo Zenin emerged.

He didn’t look at the crowd.

He walked forward with the calm certainty of someone who had never doubted the outcome of a fight in his life.

High above the arena, in the sealed viewing chamber, the Zenin clan head leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back. A thin smile curved his lips.

“That boy,” he said proudly, voice carrying just enough to be heard, “is the future of our clan.”

The other clan heads watched in silence.

Back in the arena, the two fighters stopped several meters apart.

Both said nothing.

They just watched each other—weight shifts, breathing rhythm, cursed energy flow.

Kusakabe stood between them, arms crossed.

“You both ready?”

“Yes,” Jason said.

“Yes,” Ryo replied.

Kusakabe stepped back.

“Fight.”

They vanished.

Both figures disappeared in the same instant.

 

They reappeared mid-motion.

Jason twisted aside as Ryo’s fist sliced through the space where his face had been a second earlier. Jason countered instantly, driving a tight hook toward Ryo’s ribs.

Ryo slipped back, the punch grazing nothing but air.

The crowd roared.

“They’re fast…” Cyan whispered, eyes wide.

Nathan didn’t look impressed.

“This,” he said calmly, “is what first-grade sorcery looks like.”

 

Back at the arena

Ryo shifted his footing.

Then the air cracked.

Jason felt it a split second too late.

Ryo moved—n as if the world itself skipped forward. The sound reached Jason after the impact.

A barrage of punches slammed into Jason’s torso—precise, brutal, relentless.

One.
Ten.
Thirty—

Jason staggered back, boots scraping stone.

Then—

His body froze.

For a full second, his timing failed him.

Ryo was already there.

A straight punch drove forward, cursed energy compressed so tightly it felt like reality bent around it—like a single frame of existence shattered and resumed.

Jason barely raised his guard.

The impact thundered through the arena, sending him skidding backward across the stone.

Up in the viewing chamber, the Zenin clan head smiled wider.

“That,” he said, voice dripping with satisfaction, “is the Projection Technique.”

Below, Jason slid to a stop, chest heaving.

Ryo stood perfectly still, posture immaculate—already calculating the next sequence.

 

And the fight had only just begun.

 

Ryo Zenin walked forward calmly.

Jason was on one knee, breath ragged, chest rising and falling in sharp pulls. His cursed energy sputtered, struggling to stabilize after the assault.

Ryo stopped a few steps away.

A faint smirk crossed his face.

“So,” he said, voice level, “how do you like my technique?”

Jason coughed, planting one hand against the stone.

“You’re fast,” he said between breaths.
“Too fast.”

Ryo tilted his head slightly.

Jason pushed himself up.

His breathing slowed.

His stance settled.

“…Guess I’ll just have to go faster.”

Ryo opened his mouth to reply—

—and Jason vanished.

 

Ryo’s eyes widened a fraction, and pain exploded through his abdomen.

Jason’s fist buried itself into Ryo’s gut with catastrophic force. The impact cracked the arena floor and launched Ryo across the ring like a cannonball.

He skidded violently toward the edge—

—and twisted mid-air, digging his heels in just before crossing the boundary. Stone shattered beneath his feet as he stopped himself, coughing sharply.

Jason stood where Ryo had been.

Pain flared up his forearm—hot, sudden.

He clenched his hand once.

The bones held.

Barely.

His cursed energy surged instinctively, reinforcing micro-fractures before they could spread. A thin trickle of blood slipped from his knuckles and vanished as he wiped it against his pants.

Too much mass, he thought. Too fast.

He steadied his breathing. Adjust the ratio.

“Current output: 12000 kilogram meters per second.”

In the waiting area, Ava smirked.

“That’s his technique,” she said.
“Momentum.”

Kevin blinked. “You’re joking.”

Ava shook her head.
“He increases both his effective mass and velocity using cursed energy reinforcement. He can push his body to inhumane limits.”

Cyan’s eyes widened as she exchanged a look with Kevin.

“So he’s not just fast,” Cyan whispered.
“He’s heavy.”

Ryo stood upright again, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.

A grin spread across his face.

“Not bad,” he said.
“Let’s see if you can keep up.”

They clashed.

The arena shook as fists and kicks collided, shockwaves rippling outward with every exchange.

Each impact cracked stone, warped air, and sent pressure waves rolling through the stands.

Jason slipped a high strike—

Ryo pivoted, projection technique activating—

—but Jason vanished again.

He reappeared on Ryo’s blind side.

The timing was perfect.

Jason’s cursed energy aligned.

The world seemed to snap—

BLACK FLASH.

The impact detonated like a thunderclap.

Ryo’s body folded around the blow as he was driven straight into the arena floor, the stone beneath him exploding outward in a spiderweb of fractures.

Silence.

Kevin’s jaw dropped.

Megumi stared, stunned.

Cyan felt her breath catch in her throat.

Up in the viewing chamber—

“What?!” the Zenin clan head snapped, rising to his feet.

Dean didn’t look surprised.

“Jason’s velocity exceeded the frame control of Projection Sorcery,” he said calmly.

“Ryo’s technique simply couldn’t keep up.”

Kusakabe raised Jason’s hand.

“Match over,” he announced.

He glanced down at the shattered ring.

“Winner—Jason.”

The scoreboard flickered.

South Africa: 1
Japan: 0

 Back at the fighter's corridor, Ava whistled low as the applause thundered.

Ava: “Jason's technique is really something else, it's crazy ti think how he uses it like it’s second nature.”

Nathan folded his arms, jaw tight.

Nathan: “He won the moment he set foot in the arena.
Ryo didn’t even realize the fight had already started.”

Cyan and Megumi walked a few paces behind them, listening.

Cyan blinked. “You’re both acting like Jason just solved a math test.”

Megumi shrugged. “Because he kind of did.”

Nathan added without turning:

Nathan: “Jason’s strength isn’t his technique.
It’s that he never assumes he’s the strongest.
He plans for the moment he isn’t.”

Cyan absorbed that quietly.

Ava smirked and nudged her.

Ava: “Relax. You’ll have your moment too.”

Cyan didn’t feel relaxed at all.

Megumi stepped beside Yuki Gojo, who stood with hands tucked in his pockets, white bandana covering both eyes.

The crowd below still cheered Jason’s name.

Megumi spoke without looking at Yuki.

Megumi: “South African sorcerers shouldn’t be taken lightly.
That guy was just the first example.”

Yuki tilted his head slightly, amused.

Yuki: “I’m aware.”

Then—slowly, deliberately—
he lifted one side of his bandana.

A single Six Eye glowed like a cut diamond, spinning with countless microscopic structures.

He turned that eye directly toward Cyan.

Megumi stiffened.

Yuki’s voice dropped to a whisper—quiet, but cold enough to frost glass.

Yuki: “I see it.”

Megumi turned sharply toward him.

Megumi: “See what?”

Yuki didn’t blink.

Yuki: “Two souls in one body.”

Cyan, down in the walkway, paused mid-step.

Yuki tightened the bandana back over his eye.

Yuki: “One human.
One not.”

Yuki: “She’s the vessel alright.”

 

Megumi exhaled slowly.

Megumi: “This… is going to cause issues.”

Yuki smiled sharp and small.

Yuki: “Megumi, everything causes issues.”