"Hahaha, friend?" Meng He burst out laughing wildly. "The illustrious Melancholy Prince Andre actually counts a loser like you as a friend? Ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!"
"Meng He, if you keep insulting my friend, then I challenge you to a duel!" Andre's tone suddenly turned icy cold.
Meng He's face instantly darkened. He knew his limits—by strength, he was no match for Andre. Andre was already a one-star mech knight, while Meng He was only a level ten mech warrior. Although that sounded like a small difference, the leap from level ten mech warrior to one-star mech knight was a qualitative one.
"Endymion, no wonder you're so arrogant now. Looks like you've found a powerful backer!" Meng He dodged the main issue and kept aiming at Endymion.
"Meng He, I've never offended you. Yet you keep causing trouble for me. You think you're arrogant? How many people in this school are more arrogant than you?" Endymion sneered. "You think you're strong? Fine—I challenge you to a duel right now!"
"What? You want to duel me?" Meng He laughed like he'd heard the world's biggest joke. "You? A loser who can't even pilot a mech?"
"That's right, I challenge you. But it won't be a mech duel—it'll be hand-to-hand combat!" Endymion looked at Meng He with contempt. "Do you dare?"
"Fine! Hand-to-hand it is!" Meng He growled. "If you want to die, I'll grant your wish. Let's go to the arena!"
"You'd better get your will in order first." Endymion said calmly.
"Maybe you're the one who should do that." Meng He snorted and turned away.
"Andre, want to come watch with me?" Endymion glanced at Andre.
"It would be my honor." Andre smiled faintly.
"Wow! The prince is actually smiling!" a nearby fangirl squealed.
"Yan'er, did you hear? Endymion, who has a crush on you, is going to duel Meng He!" Murong Yan'er just returned to the dorm when her roommate Mina hurriedly told her.
"What? Who told you that?" Yan'er blinked in surprise.
"Who else? The school forum! They're at the arena now, about to start! I heard Andre's there too. Are you going? If not, I'll go!" Mina said excitedly, then rushed out.
"Wait, I'm coming too!" Yan'er hesitated, then ran after her.
Tan Bingbing was about to head to the mech training center when a shout came from behind:
"Bingbing! Bingbing!"
Turning around, she saw An Ran and Amy panting as they ran toward her.
"Hurry! To the arena!" they each grabbed one of her hands and pulled her along.
"Why there?" Bingbing stopped stubbornly. She only cared about mech combat and wasn't interested in hand-to-hand fights.
"Aww, your rumored boyfriend is dueling! Aren't you going to watch?" An Ran urged.
"Rumored boyfriend?" Bingbing glared at An Ran.
"Yeah, Endymion! He's dueling Meng He! If you don't go, he might get beaten to death!" An Ran hurried on.
"So what if he lives or dies?" Bingbing grumbled but couldn't help moving forward.
An Ran giggled but didn't say more, only quickening her pace.
The news of the duel between Meng He and Endymion spread quickly across Notting Academy, drawing a massive crowd to the usually quiet arena.
Endymion stood calmly on the platform. Challenging Meng He wasn't a reckless act. Though his Dou Qi wasn't yet level one—making a victory unlikely—he still had magic. Though weak now, if used well, it might keep him undefeated.
Most importantly, he hoped the fight would help him break through his Dou Qi bottleneck. He knew many warriors from Auro Continent advanced by fighting.
The crowd grew. Endymion glanced at Meng He and smiled faintly. If he could stay undefeated today, it would be a huge blow to Meng He's ego.
"Begin!" Meng He was impatient. No referee was needed—the audience would judge.
Endymion said nothing, only beckoning Meng He with a provocative finger curl. This enraged Meng He, who stomped and lunged forward, throwing punches rapidly.
The duel had begun.
Meng He moved with lightning speed—footwork and punches far faster than expected. Fueled by hatred, he attacked mercilessly.
Endymion realized he'd seriously underestimated Meng He's power. He thought he could withstand or at least dodge for a while, but he was wrong. He couldn't dodge, and there was no time to cast magic, leaving only one choice: fight head-on.
Gathering Dou Qi, Endymion blocked Meng He's punches, stepping back after each block. In mere seconds, Meng He threw over ten punches. Endymion relied purely on instinct, his arms growing numb from the strain.
Though he miscalculated, regret was useless now. Endymion pushed his Dou Qi to the limit, barely fending off the fierce assault.
Smash! A sharp pain exploded in his chest. Endymion flew back, crashing hard onto the platform.
Pfft! He spat blood—he hadn't withstood Meng He's thunderous punch, which landed heavily on his chest.
"Hmph, trash will always be trash!" Meng He sneered down at him.
The humiliation from the Bamboo Grove a month ago echoed again. Endymion clenched fists, trembling slightly. With a roar, he shakily stood up, eyes blazing red as he stared at Meng He.
Smash! Another punch sent him down again.
But moments later, Endymion rose once more, fiercer than before.
Meng He punched again. Endymion barely blocked, then fell once more.
Endymion kept rising and falling, again and again.
The crowd first cheered loudly, but gradually quieted. When Endymion struggled to stand yet again, silence fell over the arena.
He didn't know what force kept him going. All he knew was one thing: he couldn't lose. He would not endure that humiliation again. He would outlast Meng He and claim victory.
"Come on, Meng He, we're not done yet!" Endymion gasped, his blood-soaked clothes clinging to his battered body.
His Dou Qi surged inside, and—was it his imagination?—it suddenly flowed faster. His stamina also seemed to recover at an incredible rate.