In an unexpected turn, Ichigo landed a devastating overhead strike that broke through Kenzo’s defense completely. The wooden blade connected solidly with Kenzo’s shoulder, sending a shockwave through his entire frame.
The impact clearly hurt Kenzo, making him stumble backward several steps as he struggled to maintain his balance. His face contorted with pain from the clean hit.
Sensing his advantage, Ichigo pressed forward with a follow-up combination, but the momentum vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Kenzo responded with a vicious diagonal slash that Ichigo barely managed to avoid, the blade whistling past his face by mere inches.
Kenzo touched his lips and stared at the crimson drops on his fingertips. His expression shifted dramatically as something unhinged flickered in his eyes.
"Hahaha... blood. You made me bleed," Kenzo laughed with disturbing hysteria, his voice carrying an edge that made the crowd look at him uncomfortably.
Ichigo’s worried expression reflected concern for his opponent’s mental state. "Are you okay, man? We can pause if you need—"
"OKAY?" Kenzo shrieked, his laughter becoming more manic. "DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT’S BEEN? I HAVEN’T BLED IN YEARS!"
Without warning, Kenzo launched into a frenzied assault, his strikes now carrying lethal intent rather than competitive spirit. His blade work became erratic but dangerous, filled with murderous rage.
CLANG! THWACK! SWISH!
The crowd’s enthusiastic cheering did not die down, rather, it increased. The new match preogression seemed to resonate with them more.
"This is getting more exciting," one spectator whispered.
Noah frowned deeply at Kenzo’s transformation. The fighter was no longer holding back or maintaining any pretense of controlled competition—he was clearly attempting to inflict serious injury or worse on Ichigo.
CLANG! CRACK! WHOOSH!
Ichigo found himself forced to abandon his own restraint as Kenzo’s attacks became increasingly vicious. Despite his enhanced defensive efforts, he was being outskilled by the person before him.
The real issue wasn’t Ichigo’s impending loss—it was Kenzo’s obvious intent to cause permanent damage through attacks that belonged in life-or-death combat rather than tournament competition.
"This has gone too far," Noah muttered, recognizing that intervention might be necessary to prevent serious injury to his friend.
"Ichigo! That’s enough! Throw in the towel!" Noah shouted from the stands, his voice cutting through the arena noise. Find the newest release on novel✶fire.net
He could see clearly that Ichigo was operating at level 8 swordsmanship while Kenzo had reached the peak of level 9. This wasn’t just a skill gap—Kenzo was no ordinary swordsman, and his unhinged state made him genuinely dangerous.
Ichigo didn’t reply, but his silence spoke volumes. He wasn’t going to stop fighting.
’I can’t stop, for father,’ Ichigo thought desperately as he parried increasingly difficult attacks, his defensive form beginning to deteriorate under the relentless assault.
CLANG! THWACK! SWISH!
The attacks began overwhelming Ichigo’s defenses. Kenzo’s blade found gaps in his guard, landing glancing blows that accumulated damage steadily. Blood began trickling from Ichigo’s lips where a strike had connected.
At the sight of fresh blood, Kenzo’s hysteria intensified dramatically.
"YES! MORE!" Kenzo screamed with manic delight, his attacks becoming even more vicious. "I WANT TO SEE MORE RED!"
The crowd’s earlier discomfort had transformed into bloodthirsty excitement. Rather than calling for intervention, spectators leaned forward with anticipation.
"This is what real competition looks like!" one spectator shouted enthusiastically.
"Finally, someone who fights with genuine intensity!" another called out approvingly.
"Make him bleed more!" came voices from the audience, their civilized veneer dropping as violence escalated.
WHOOSH! CLANG! THWACK!
Ichigo’s condition worsened rapidly as Kenzo’s uncontrolled assault continued. More blood appeared on his face and arms from strikes that should have been controlled in tournament competition.
The referee seemed paralyzed by an unknown reason, unsure whether to intervene in what the crowd was clearly enjoying despite its departure from normal competitive standards.
Noah watched with growing alarm as his friend’s safety deteriorated while the audience cheered for more violence.
Ichigo’s body grew progressively weaker as damage accumulated from Kenzo’s relentless assault. Each strike chipped away at his defensive capabilities while his opponent showed no signs of restraint.
The judges observed with visible pity, their earlier interest replaced by some concern.
"He’s just like his master... he’s so... Forget it," the first judge muttered with resignation at Kenzo’s actions.
Another judge also sighed deeply recognizing the futility of expecting Ichigo to surrender despite his deteriorating condition.
Ichigo finally became unable to block effectively, and Kenzo delivered an incredibly powerful attack that landed squarely on his left arm. The battle blades were dulled to prevent fatal injuries, but they remained dangerous enough to cause serious harm.
The impact connected with devastating force, and Ichigo’s voice erupted in agony and pain.
The scream tore from his throat. It was filled with the raw emotions he felt. Both shock and pain that echoed across the entire venue. The sound carried the kind of anguish that made even bloodthirsty spectators wince involuntarily.
Noah watched with clenched fists, his enhanced hearing making every note of Ichigo’s suffering crystal clear.
Over the past two days, he had genuinely grown to appreciate Ichigo’s light-hearted personality—someone without grudges or hidden agendas, just a simple, honest person.
Yet this opponent that Ichigo had welcomed and spoken to naturally was now destroying him. The injures he was trying to flict were injuries that medicine couldn’t simply heal back without any lingering effects.
"Ichigo, you need to stop! You’re going to sustain a career-ending injury!" Noah insisted in fear for his new friend’s condition.
Whilst he could help Ichigo with any of the items he had in store, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to reveal the items he had to anyone outside his immediate family or close friends.
His words fell on deaf ears as Ichigo focused entirely on the attacks he could barely dodge or block, his concentration narrowed to pure survival.
Kenzo attacked again, deliberately targeting the exact same spot on Ichigo’s injured arm. The accumulated damage was clearly intentional—a calculated effort to maximize harm.
Noah cursed under his breath. The bastard was doing it on purpose, targeting the same location to ensure maximum injury rather than seeking clean victory.