Chapter Seven: I Am Also a Man (Part Two)

The scene inside the arena left Kuang Chi seething with anger.

His opponent stood at the center of the arena, radiant and dashing, surrounded by waves of adoring cheers—especially from the academy’s most beautiful women. And there could be no doubting the beauty of the female students at Imperial Academy; their reputation was beyond question. To doubt their allure was to question the noble bloodlines of the Caro Empire itself. Though the occasional genetic anomaly did occur, modern medicine—and particularly the art of cosmetic transformation—could resolve such matters with remarkable finesse.

Listening to the chorus of beauties cheering for his rival, recalling Zixia’s glowing appraisal of the man, Kuang Chi’s rage burned even hotter. The Kuang and Bier families had been mortal enemies for generations; even setting that aside, he was still a man, and that alone was reason enough to feel a surge of combative spirit toward this pretty-faced rival.

His mood soured, and his face grew stormy. With his eyebrows nearly singed by his own anger, his hands itched for action.

With a furious snort, Kuang Chi leapt headlong from the entrance into the fighting ring.

But instead of the rousing cheers that should have greeted a gladiator about to offer the crowd a thrilling spectacle, he was met by a wave of derision. The moment Kuang Chi landed in the arena, the crowd fell silent—only to erupt a heartbeat later in a chorus of boos.

While his rival, the pretty boy, received shouts of support and encouragement, Kuang Chi was greeted by scornful jeers, as if mocking him openly. He nearly lost his footing and fell flat on his face from the shock.

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to find a hole in the ground and hide himself away. But the anger blazing within him drowned out all else. Some in the crowd were shouting for this shameless parasite to get out of Imperial Academy, others called for the rescue of the beautiful Miss Phoebe and the slaying of this “devil.” Still others hurled personal insults at him.

Damn it! They made it sound as if Kuang Chi was some villainous dragon, bullying the weak, forcefully abducting a princess. As if he had used underhanded means to break up the destined union of the pretty boy and Phoebe. How could he not grind his teeth in fury? By all rights, he was the true victim here—his fiancée, a betrothal arranged before he was even born! Yet now, it seemed the pretty boy standing in the arena, so solemn and unmoving, was the real interloper. Had his fiancée been stolen from him, he was the one at fault? Was it because he wasn’t as tall, his skin not as fair, his features not as delicate, or because he outweighed the pretty boy by a measure or two that he was condemned as a devil, as a monstrous dragon?

Kuang Chi’s mind was ablaze with murderous fury.

He whipped his head toward the jeering crowd. With a temperament hot enough to challenge three imperial royal professors, and as the treasured scion of the Kuang family, what else could he do?

He let out a thunderous roar, shouting into the arena, “Shut your damn mouths! That pretty boy wants to steal my fiancée, and I’m in the wrong? Damn it! If you’re so sure I’m to blame, come down here and let me see your faces!”

A year among the shadow thieves had not been wasted. The power and arrogance in his words were beyond description; his domineering presence only provoked even more melodious shrieks of protest from the crowd.

His string of expletives further enraged the pretty boy’s loyal female fans. Though noble ladies must maintain their decorum and could not resort to vulgarity themselves, they still managed to hurl a barrage of less-than-flattering, though pointedly objective, descriptors his way.

A wise man does not quarrel with women—a motto Kuang Chi had always lived by. A gentleman fights with his hands, not his tongue—precisely the principle Kuang Chi now strove to embody.

Unconsciously, the long whip in his hand slid into his palm, and his gaze, cold and predatory as a butcher’s, settled on Pierre Hyde, the pretty boy standing not far away.

Pierre, for his part, seemed unconcerned by Kuang Chi’s whip. He was curious as to where this weapon had come from—perhaps a recent acquisition of the Kuang family, maybe even a divine artifact—but, seeing Kuang Chi draw his weapon, responded with equal poise, gracefully revealing his own massive energy sword.

Nearly three meters long and as wide as both his palms, the blade resembled nothing so much as an ancient door plank.

Pierre did not object to the whip, but someone in the audience did—a voice Kuang Chi had learned to despise.

“The Imperial Nobles’ Dueling Code clearly states: No divine beast may be used in a noble duel, including fusion. Student Kuang Chi, you are to immediately end your fusion state.”

Damn it, wasn’t that the same professor he had whipped a few days prior?

Seeing him now only added fuel to Kuang Chi’s fire. He shot back furiously, “This is my weapon! Where in the dueling code does it say I can’t use a weapon? You say I’m fused, so I am? Do I look fused to you?”

With that, Kuang Chi tossed the whip to the ground. Once a host was fused with a divine beast, the weapon could not be separated from its master; by casting it aside, he reminded everyone of this basic fact. In truth, he was indeed fused with his divine beast, but his companion, Little Flower, was unique—she could briefly separate her body from his.

Though he left that professor red-faced and speechless, Kuang Chi’s lack of courtesy and noble decorum only drew further criticism from the audience.

Even Zixia called out from the stands, “Fatty, how can you speak to a respected professor like that? Hurry and apologize!”

Hearing even Zixia rebuke him, Kuang Chi finally realized he had gone too far. Still, he would not yield so easily. With a faint nod, he offered the professor a perfunctory apology.

At least now, no one dared to claim he was currently fused with his divine beast.

Retrieving the whip from the ground, Kuang Chi gave it a fierce snap at his side, his face twisted with a cold sneer as he glared at the pretty boy. “Pretty boy, are you ready? Because I’m about to start!”

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