Instructor Rock's brows furrowed. "Caster, you just fought—"
"I insist," Caster interrupted, his tone was polite but everyone could see the undertone. His knuckles cracked as he clasped his hands together, "I'd like to correct a… misunderstanding."
Dream grinned, "More like you didn't like being called out," he taunted, matching Caster's gaze.
Rock shot him a glare, but Dream didn't even flinch. The tension in the room was suffocating, finally Instructor Rock sighed, giving in to the fight.
He raised his hand, "No killing blows. No serious injuries. Begin," he said coldly.
The moment the word left Rock's mouth, Caster vanished.
A gust of wind tore through the dojo, the same brown blur reappearing behind Dream's shoulder. But this time, Dream didn't even turn. His left foot slid slightly forward, his body twisting just enough for his hand to come up and —
Smack!
His palm caught Caster's wrist in mid-strike.
Caster's eyes widened as he exhaled loudly, "You're pretty good for an untrained baboon." He muttered with irritation.
"Yeah and you're pretty slow." Dream said with a smirk, twisting Caster's wrist sharply before releasing it with a shove that made him stagger.
"Don't get cocky," Caster said, his voice lower now, more dangerous.
Dream rolled his shoulders. "Says the guy who needs his Aspect just to keep up."
The students watching exchanged glances — a few muffled laughs escaped their mouth before dying down under Caster's icy glare.
Then he disappeared again.
Dream's expression didn't change. His stance remained loose, almost lazy but his eyes were sharp, tracing the brown streak that Caster left behind.
Suddenly, Caster appeared from his right, bringing his fist forward. His punch caused a small boom to erupt as the air itself seemed to split apart from the sheer speed behind it.
But Dream was already moving.
His left leg slid back, his torso twisting as his arm came up in a tight, controlled motion.
Crack!
Their forearms collided in a large impact that resounded through the dojo.
Caster grimaced, shaking his army once.
Dream stared at him intensely, "Was that all?"
Caster's composure cracked, "Fine. I'm not going to hold back anymore!" He spat with a growl.
Dream tilted his head in surprise, "You were holding back?!" He asked incredulously.
Caster snarled, his body jerked sideways as he tried to run once again. But Dream was already on him. His hand snapped forward, gripping Caster's collar, yanking him back down before he could fully speed away.
Dream's knee slammed into his abdomen. Once. Twice.
The sound was sickening.
Caster coughed, his body folding forward but Dream didn't let him drop. Instead, he shoved him back, giving him space to breathe.
"Is the full power in the room with us?" He asked, his lips curving into a mocking smile.
Caster staggered, clutching his stomach, his polite facade gone. "You — you bastard."
"Sad to disappoint, but I had loving parents unlike you. It's a shame, tell me — were you whipped after your training or before?"
He inquired with a taunting smile as he took a few steps back, spreading his arms.
The dojo was dead silent except for their breathing. Even Rock didn't interrupt. His eyes were narrowed, curiosity flickered in his eyes as he gazed at him — wondering what he was planning.
Caster wiped his mouth and glanced down at the smear of red on his palm. "I'm going to kill you, you worm!"
Dream raised an eyebrow, "Come on then? Defend your honour!"
Caster blurred forward again, faster than before. This time his movements weren't as precise as before, they were fueled by anger after all.
He struck with everything he had: hooks, jabs, a sweeping kick, a spinning elbow. His blows came in a storm, the brown afterimages forming a vortex around them.
Dream parried what he could, slipped past others, but one solid punch finally connected with his jaw. His head snapped to the side, and the crowd gasped.
Caster froze for a moment, almost surprised he landed it.
Dream turned back slowly. Blood trailed down from his lip as he smiled, a cold, feral smile that sent a chill down everyone's spine.
"Finally," he said quietly. "You managed to land a blow! You should be glad, you'll be whipped five hundred times now instead of the original thousand."
Almost immediately, Dream moved, wasting no energy.
His feet shifted, shoulders rolling as he stepped into Caster's guard.
Wham! — a jab to the throat.
Thud! — a knee to the gut.
Crack! — an elbow across the cheekbone.
Caster staggered with each hit, his body collapsing. Dream didn't stop until the final punch — a clean, downward strike that sent him sprawling onto the mat.
Caster hit the ground hard, parts of his body turning purple, exactly where Dream attacked.
The dojo was silent for a heartbeat… then erupted.
Whispers, shocked gasps, and rage.
Nobody could believe what they had just seen.
A street rat. Beating a legacy — a highly trained and respected legacy at that. That too, Dream made it seem so effortless that others wondered whether they were in a dream.
Instructor Rock finally stepped forward, his tone sharp but the slight curve of his lips gave everything away. "Enough. The match is over. Winner: Dream."
Dream didn't move. He looked down at Caster, who was still coughing on the mat, and muttered under his breath, "Guess the misunderstanding's cleared now. Once a bum, always a bum."
Then he turned, tugged his hood back up, and walked toward the side of the dojo.
Nephis's gaze followed him the whole way. For the first time since she'd arrived, her eyes were unnaturally cold.