Chapter 68: The Perfect Test Subject!
Ozai’s heart pounded as disbelief turned to dread. The Bruce he remembered was gone!
The timid orphan who hid behind Sophie, the boy mocked for being weak, for being ordinary, that version no longer existed.
This Bruce was calm. Cold. Unflinching.
And worse... he was toying with him.
’How... how did he become this strong?’ Ozai’s thoughts spiraled. ’This isn’t the same man I know. When did he learn to use daggers so expertly, when did he learn to read attacks like that!’
Sure, Bruce had taken the top spot among the hundred recruits, amassing over nine hundred points after that slaughter at the lioness den that night, but Ozai despite saying back then that Bruce does indeed possess some skill, had dismissed it as coincidence, luck, maybe. A fluke.
He wanted to believe that.
But now, standing face to face with Bruce, seeing that calm smile and feeling the weight of his presence, Ozai knew the truth.
This wasn’t luck.
Bruce wasn’t just strong. He was in control. They were both A-Ranks, but Bruce was superior, more skilled, this flipped what Ozai thought to be reality by a lot, so he was a state of shock.
Every one of Ozai’s attacks was being read, dissected, and dismantled as if Bruce had already fought this battle before. His daggers didn’t swing with rage or haste, they danced. Each parry flowed into the next, tracing invisible lines that disrupted Ozai’s momentum again and again, dismantling his form with silent precision.
The calm in Bruce’s eyes said everything. He wasn’t fighting for survival. This was his game.
"Dammit!" Ozai snarled, frustration boiling over.
He lunged forward, crossing both blades in a wide, spinning arc before twisting into a rapid follow-up slash. His feet moved with grace and fury as he dropped low, leg sweeping toward Bruce’s knees in a perfectly timed combo, fast, fluid, seamless.
A strike that could’ve torn through any unprepared A-rank.
But Bruce... moved.
No wasted motion. No panic.
With a flick of his wrists, his daggers met both blades near the base, a clean, controlled deflection that diverted their path effortlessly. His body turned just enough to let the leg sweep pass harmlessly beneath him, his coat brushing against the wind of the attack as he took a single, quiet step back.
SCHING!!!
Steel scraped. Sparks burst. The air vibrated from shock of the force.
And Bruce stood there, still untouched.
Silent. Calm. Watching.
He hadn’t thrown a single attack. Not one.
His quiet confidence cut deeper than any blade.
It wasn’t arrogance, it was dominance. Or maybe it was arrogance. Either way, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that it infuriated Ozai beyond reason.
Ozai’s jaw clenched, fury rising in his chest like fire.
Bruce’s eyes, half-lidded and unreadable, met his. In that moment, the faint reflection of the firelight flickered across his face, giving him an almost serene, godlike calm, as if this battle was beneath him.
He looked less like a fighter... And more like a reaper waiting for his turn to strike.
Ozai rushed forward, his twin swords gleaming as they cut through the dim morning light that filtered into the cave. Each slash came with fury, each strike aimed to kill.
Bruce, however, stood calm amidst the storm. His daggers moved with effortless precision, deflecting each blow as if it were nothing more than a passing breeze. The sound of metal colliding with metal filled the cavern, a steady rhythm of violence.
CLANG!
CLANG!!
CLANG!!!
CLANG!!!!
The cave itself seemed to tremble under the intensity, the echoes reverberating off every stone wall.
"I thought the young master of the mighty Great Ancient Thorne Family would be above ambushing someone in his sleep," Bruce said, his tone smooth but laced with venom. He twisted one dagger, locking Ozai’s left sword before parrying the right with surgical precision. His voice carried no anger, no heat, only quiet mockery, deliberate and cutting.
To Bruce, this wasn’t just a fight. It was a game. And Ozai was the perfect piece to play with.
Ozai’s lips twitched, his composure cracking. "The ends justify the means!" he snarled. "Nothing matters as long as I come out on top!"
Bruce’s faint smile didn’t waver. "Spoken like a true coward."
That simple line hit deeper than a blade.
Ozai growled, and the tempo of his assault doubled. His movements blurred, fast, desperate, furious. Sparks erupted with every clash as the two figures danced through the half-lit cave, their shadows twisting across the walls like phantoms at war.
The air grew thick, the tension palpable.
Bruce, his black hair glinting faintly in the slivers of light that pierced through the cracks in the stone ceiling, crossed his daggers smoothly, catching both of Ozai’s descending swords in perfect synchronization. The impact sent a sharp vibration through the air, yet his feet didn’t move an inch.
Ozai stepped back, panting heavily, before lunging again, slashes, thrusts, wide arcs. His blades sang with killing intent.
But Bruce was always one step ahead.
He moved like water, flowing, adapting, anticipating. His daggers deflected every strike with almost lazy precision, each parry draining Ozai’s stamina and pride alike. The calm look in Bruce’s eyes only made it worse.
To Ozai, every blocked attack felt like mockery. Bruce simply smiled enraging Ozai further and further with each passing moment. And Ozai, for all his rage, didn’t realize he had already fallen into the role of Bruce’s test subject.
Ozai’s jaw clenched as his frustration peaked. "We’re both A-Ranks!" he shouted, his teeth grinding. "I don’t believe you’re stronger than me!"
He pushed harder, forcing his muscles to the limit. His veins pulsed with mana as he poured every ounce of power into his next strikes. The twin swords crashed down again and again, shaking the ground beneath them.
Yet Bruce stood there. Calm. Untouched.
Every strike met resistance, every slash found steel. Bruce’s daggers intercepted with ease, his wrists rotating just enough to redirect force without wasting energy. The way he moved, minimal, efficient, deliberate, was infuriating.
Finally, Ozai stopped. His breathing was ragged. His hands trembled.
And Bruce... smiled.
Bruce, of course, didn’t miss the chance to taunt Ozai. After all, for the experiment he was running to test his theories for new skills, an utterly enraged Ozai made the perfect test subject.
"Oh?" Bruce tilted his head slightly, his voice soft but mocking. "What’s wrong? Didn’t you come here to end my life?" His tone darkened, the corner of his lips curling into a taunting grin. "Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got. You plan to take Sophie from me with that level of skill?"
The words hit harder than any blade.
Bruce’s smirk widened slightly, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.
...
A/N:
Is this fight dragging on a bit too long? Let me know in the comments!
That’s it for this month’s Chapters. Thank you all so much for reading and supporting me with your Power Stones and Golden Tickets. I truly appreciate every bit of it.