I regressed and became the Sword Ice King

Still, despite her change in demeanour, Phestus remained poised.

Situations like this were natural in the main world.

After all, nothing was ever supposed to be taken as it is….unless it was.

Conflicts which could take a turn for the worse were quite typical in some parts of the world. The kingdom, included.

Especially when that conflict was beyond their control.

Phestus, though, wasn't one to get easily swept into the loss of control. No– instead, he would stir it in his favour.

Finding a way even in chaos.

'Or so I would like to think.'

The tension between the former professor and the student council president had begun to pulsate.

Ever so palpable to the human skin.

It caused the air to rattle around them in a low hum.

Physical stats reveal its true colours without the usual bravado of mana interfering.

This one depended solely on skills and strengths, with one side already down by one man.

Katherin's gaze occasionally flickered in their direction. Cadwin and Crown.

The location of their brutal combat, and where the latter had fallen to the ground with his spine cracked.

Or so she assumed.

She had heard the sound when he was struck to the floor. It was powerful, as it was specific.

Well, they all did, to be honest.

Both she and her opponents. All of them.

Cadwin had aimed for a deadly blow to the spine that should have broken it. Snapped it like a twig.

So, it was no guess that his spine was gone….and his legs with it.

'Shit…' She thought to herself in an unamused tone as her gaze darted to Phestus.

"You wanted a fight, right?"

She said as they stared at each other at a point, before the crimson-haired bit down on her teeth and pulled him towards her.

"Let's fight, then."

"Wha–" Phestus was cut, mid-sentence as he pulled his head back while his body was yanked forwards. Gripping her arm at the same time.

Katherin ignored as she leaned into the space between them. Her skull, broad and sparkling as she pushed it forward.

Phestus groaned under the strain of his body, his eyes widening slightly at the incoming attack when he stretched a leg back and bent downwards, dodging the sudden head butt by a sharp breath.

His gaze narrowed as he looked up at Katherin, just before he sent his fist to her abdomen.

She rotated. Sidestepping around him while their right arms remained restrained by each other.

His arm whipped through the empty space with a resounding crack.

A bolt of physical stats in its raw form.

It was one thing that didn't require mana, unlike magic or skills.

It was the particular attribute that helped set the flow of the battle.

But that wasn't enough.

Katherin's pupils darted downwards to his stretched leg and kicked it further apart.

The subtle nudge immediately pulled him off balance, as a slight groan escaped his lips.

At the same time, she sent her fist forward. Drastically nearing its target at a rapid pace.

Phestus caught it with his eyes.

The motion of her fist as it neared inch by inch to his face.

His lips curled into a tight grin.

Discomfort etched in his expression as he quickly slid the outstretched leg behind him.

Then just as the punch closed in, he lifted himself into the air, flipping forward with their arms grasped together as leverage.

Her punch missed by a breath, a curt gasp escaping her lips as her gaze traced the boy's upwards.

They locked gazes.

Katherin's expression shifted into annoyance as her brows twitched slightly and her lips curled into a frown while Phestus kept his smirk constant.

He landed on the other side with a shift of space. A small explosion of dust and wind was quickly followed by their feet clashing against each other.

"Barbarian Jabbing and Shuffling Technique."

Phestus' voice resounded in the room.

Echoing against the sound of their conflict that projected in the quiet space.

While they fought, the others watched in simple judgment. Eyes tracing the fight like it were a digital camera.

As if awaiting a victor before they decided on their next move.

Cadwin had defeated his opponent.

Made him discommissioned, if you could. Well, crippled, but no one was yet to confirm.

Now, he simply observed the only fight that took place within the closed space.

The other, Headmaster Rhabanz had been seated quietly until now.

Both of his hands were placed on the table.

He had seen what he needed to as the screen was now dysfunctional. A mess of static and rubbish that flashed from the magic screen.

He too, awaited someone to step out from the fight.

And from the looks of it, it was soon to end.

"Imperial Guard Technique."

Phestus continued when he blocked an incoming strike with the side of his arm lifted up.

"Purple Kraken Fists."

The air whipped once again as their fists clashed against itself.

A resounding explosion of sound echoed against the earth.

Katherin's expression contorted deeply from her annoyance to a pang of worry and something deeper.

A sensation that had begun to creep its way slowly. Blossoming into something poisonous.

It was yet to take root, but the feeling didn't leave her one bit.

It deepend with every exchanged blow.

The battle that seemed to reach its end, yet was unable to land the finishing blow.

Just a rush of the same techniques. The same fighting style, and most concepts.

The two fighters suddenly sent their legs clashing against each other once again.

A burst of air from the attack, before Phestus slid across the ground. His arm was still attached to hers.

It was like they had glued it unconsciously.

What seemed like a handicap was an illusion– neither needed one.

Still, their bond as student and lecturer may have played its way into their fight.

And perhaps, crumbled their will to actually end it.

"Even the Knight Dragon Footwork."

Phestus muttered as Katherin completed the same series of sliding footwork.

Closing the distance once more and locking themselves in a fit of thrown punches.

"You've just proven my theory, Miss. Katherin." Phestus said with a curt whistle when he suddenly deflected her punch to the side instead of landing an equally terrifying one.

He then proceeded to grab it, slide his feet across the ground while he lifted her into the air and slam her against it.

An explosion of earth and wind occurred as she landed on her feet.

Gaze locked onto Phestus while their arms pushed against each other.

"Everything I know, you know. There truly is no winner."

Katherin scoffed.

"I am the Professor and you are the Student." She said with a deeply frustrated tone. "What I know is many times more proficient than yours, boy."

A lasting silence descended in the air at the end of her statement.

Filled only by the tensing muscles and strain of their body as they attempted to resist and overwhelm the other.

But they, simply wouldn't budge.

Suddenly, and slowly, Phestus's smirk turned into a smile.

"Don't let experience fool you. We, the younger generations, are sharper in certain ways."

His statement lingered.

Not just to Katherin, but to the others in the room.

Because it was true.

Their academy was known for brooding monsters into society.

Powerful individuals who become high-standard people in society.

But none…none amounted to the potential of the current generation.

The thought pulled them into a state of realisation.

One that came too quickly and suddenly to actually be registered.

And with it, came confusion.

Katherin blinked and shook her head in confusion.

"Wha–?"

But before she could register her question, Phestus had done something terribly startling.

He pulled his hands back. Both of them.

Releasing it from her grasp for just a second.

Now his arms lay down, and hers still hung in the air, proportionate to the parts of his body that would harm him.

It was a chance. An opportunity, and she took it.

Katherin grabbed it.

Her confusion quickly turned to satisfaction.

'You fool.'

She lifted both of her arms towards his chest, a sudden clench of force pooled into each strike she attempted to release.

It was a downward cut.

Starting upwards, and reaching down where he would have a more difficult chance of ducking.

If he side-stepped, then a fist would quickly follow up and land a lasting blow, and if he remained in his spot.

Her punch would last even longer.

There was no chance to dodge.

No opportunity to counter.

It was over.

It should have been.

But Phestus had something else in mind.

With one leg in front of the other, he kicked his entire body backwards.

Completely shifting away from the area of her attack in a heartbeat.

'What?'

Her eyes bulged open in shock as her fist met the empty air where his flesh and bones should have been.

And her entire body, giving in to the idea of a complete victory was too slow to recover from the sudden loss.

This was a movement that didn't just startle her.

No, it completely shattered her, because it wasn't just a simple dodge. No, a counter followed.

One that stared right at her face as she looked down.

BANG!

An upper kick axe.

Phestus had completely thrown his right leg into the air, slamming it under her chin while it stretched into the air.

"Aaar—"

The groan of pain left her lips as her head was sent spiralling backwards with the rest of her body.

A quiet shockwave permeated through her body as her mouth was left ajar from the kick.

Blood, teeth and torn flesh bursting from her mouth in its visceral form.

'Wha– What type of technique?'

Her legs staggered, then she fell.