"Let me fight him, I can’t be the only one who didn’t fight in my team!"

The scene on the stage was borderline farcical. Ricky was being restrained, not just by the judging teacher, but by another teacher who had rushed from the sidelines to prevent Ricky from breaking the rules.

Together, they struggled to hold back Ricky, who looked ready to dart across the arena despite the match having already been called to his favour.

The situation had turned hilarious the moment Ricky’s opponent stepped onto the stage. Unlike his predecessors, who had at least attempted to fight, this student had taken one look at the black-and-red mask and the blood still being mopped up from Cissel’s match.

He had let out a long, weary sigh and loudly announced his forfeiture before the judge could even drop his hand.

Seeing this drove Ricky absolutely mad. He had been mentally prepared to fight to his heart’s content. He wanted to toy with his opponent, to showcase the terrifying side of his enhanced attributes, and to deliver a grand ending that would cement his return.

He had envisioned dozens of scenarios, tactical manoeuvres, and power displays. Instead, he had been met with a white flag before a single blow of fists had been exchanged.

"You can’t!" the judging teacher roared, his face turning red from the effort of holding Ricky’s shoulder. "The rules are strict and absolute! He already formally forfeited, which means the point is yours. You cannot legally strike a non-combatant!"

"Then let me fight the next match!" Ricky roared back, his voice echoing through the rafters of the arena. He was refusing to accept a victory that felt like a hollow handout. "I can’t be the only one in my team who doesn’t get a chance to draw blood! Let John rest for a bit, I’ll take his place!"

"That won’t do, student Ricky," a booming voice intervened.

The Headmaster had stood up from his seat in the VIP section. He didn’t know whether he should laugh at the sheer absurdity of the scene or shout to reprimand Ricky for his lack of discipline.

However, seeing Ricky so unsatisfied even in the limelight of a guaranteed win gave the old man a strange sense of satisfaction. It proved that these students weren’t just strong; they were hungry to prove themselves.

Against any other teacher, Ricky might have continued his tirade. But when the Headmaster himself stood up to yell, he finally fell silent. He stood there, chest heaving, glaring at the student who was scurrying off the stage as fast as his legs could carry him.

"It’s not as if you’ll never have the chance to fight," the Headmaster said, his voice calm yet firm. He delivered an irrefutable piece of logic that Ricky, in his rage, had completely overlooked. "The team battle is coming up after the individual rounds. You’ll have all the chances you want to showcase your abilities there."

"Fine," Ricky muttered, the realisation finally cooling his temper. He adjusted his mask, pointing a sharp finger at the remaining members of the opposing team. "I’ll wait for you at the team fight. I, Ricky, will handle the five of you alone. Don’t you dare forfeit that one!"

Ricky felt slightly better after making such a bold, public declaration, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the sound of his friends. Back in their tent, Luke, Elena, and Cissel were practically rolling on the floor with laughter.

None of them minded his declaration; they knew any one of them was more than capable of handling the entire opposing team singlehandedly. To them, Ricky’s tantrum was the highlight of the day.

"Stop laughing, for God’s sake!" Ricky snapped as he returned to the tent, his face flushed behind the mask. His friends didn’t stop; they kept teasing and poking fun at his non-fight victory. "I’m serious! I’m going to show everyone how strong I am in the next round. The team fight is mine!"

"Sure, sure," John said, stepping in to put an end to the teasing before Ricky actually exploded. He moved his eyes in a silent, stern warning, and the others gradually tapered off their laughs. "Just rest for now and prepare. The other team is an open book for you now."

"They’re all in the infirmary, John," Luke pointed out, clutching his stomach as he tried to suppress another round of laughter. "He’s going to be fighting a broken team. Aside from the guy who just forfeited, there’s nobody left to fight but your opponent! Hahaha!"

"Most probably, they’ll just forfeit the team match as well," Elena joked. "Why get crushed twice in one day?"

Cissel just leaned against the table, her shoulders shaking with silent mirth. Ricky glared at them, feeling like he had been outplayed by fate and the Headmaster alike. Every opponent his friends fought had ended up in a sorry state, requiring immediate medical attention.

There wasn’t enough time for them to recover for a team match. Only one student had avoided a disastrous end, the one who had been smart enough to quit before Ricky could touch him.

As for the one who was about to fight John, Ricky could already see the writing on the wall. The fifth opponent would either fight and end up crippled like the others or he would forfeit. If he forfeited, it was almost a guarantee that the team match would never happen.

"Next match!" the commentator’s voice cut through the air, vibrating with a new tension. "John Mirage from the third year against Ben Hazards from the fifth year!"

"Fifth year?" John repeated. He had already started walking toward the stage, but he froze for a second when he heard what the commentator said. "I heard the Backup Team only consisted of students from years three and four. What is a senior doing in this lineup?"

As John ascended the steps, a tall youth emerged from the opposite side. He was a broad, hulking figure with bulging muscles that threatened to tear the seams of his military uniform. He was the type of person who clearly prioritised physical classes and the gymnasium.