RISE (A Highschool DxD Fanfic)

Chapter 33 - As Equals: Part 2

Y/N POV

*KRK*

*BOOM*

*BOOM*

Kicking off at the same time, our feet shattered the delicate tiles as we launched ourselves at each other, leaving webs of cracks on the floor.

The distance between the two of us was reduced to nothing in an instant.

I blinked and a fist appeared only mere centimeters from my face. But at the same time, my fist was also about to collide with Sairaorg's face.

At the last second, we both turned our fists away so they only brushed our faces, instead of ramming full-force into our cheeks.

We flashed past each other and landed back on the ground. My feet landed softly while I heard a boom behind me. I looked back and saw Sairaorg with an arm and knee on the ground.

A superhero landing.

Just then, my right eye twitched and I felt a sting come from right beneath it. I touched my hand to where the sting came from and felt something slightly sticky. I brought my hand away, and on the tip of my finger was a bright red spot of liquid.

My blood. A bleeding cut.

I felt the cut again and confirmed that it was only small, less than an inch in length. Still, it was impressive that he landed a blow on me.

I looked back at Sairaorg. His head was down and his hand was slightly raised. When he raised his head, I could see that there was a red line under his right eye, just like me. Good, I still landed a blow on him.

A ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd. There was no clear winner in this first round.

The corners of my lips curled upwards. This was an interesting fight.

Just who was I facing?

Suddenly, a suffocating aura swept through the room, silencing the crowd. The origin: Sairaorg Bael himself.

He was smiling, just like me. His eyes burned with a love for the fight.

There was no way we were finishing this in only two rounds.

"Again," he said--no, commanded.

Facing a rival that I couldn't easily win over, nor be forced to fight to the death with, I was happy to oblige. "Of course."

Two more webs of cracks appeared as the floor was destroyed just a bit more. In this round, the two of us flashed forward rather than up.

And this time, it was a kick.

I sent a high kick directed at Sairaorg's head. He had the same idea. We met at the center and our legs collided with a boom. I flashed backwards to my starting spot, as did he. Any clothing beneath our knees was obliterated, but our skin was undamaged.

"Again."

Another round, this time a palm strike.

I managed to plant both of my hands on his chest, but before I could push him back, Sairaorg slammed his arms down on mine, which made mine buckle.

He reared his arms backwards and then pushed forward. I crossed my arms in front of me to block. When his palms hit my arms, it felt like an 18-wheeler crashing into me.

I slid backwards about seven paces, carving a long divot into the floor.

There was a slight pulsing ache in my arms when I brought them to my sides. Such pure physical strength was astonishing. Even my usual attacks were always imbued with a bit of magic to boost it.