Cecil screamed aggressively as she slammed her knee one last time and finished it with a roundhouse kick that struck Godfrey's cheek, forcing him to stagger, his head tilting toward the ceiling as an ugly bruise appeared where the foot struck.

It seemed like he would fall, but at the last step, Godfrey held himself, discovering he was already at the edge of the platform.

"Still feel like running your mouth?" Cecil smirked. She enjoyed this, she enjoyed Godfrey graciously receiving a beatdown from her, and she would get to walk out of it without watching out for her back.

"You're not bad." Godfrey steadied himself, locking his eyes on Cecil. "But was that all?"

Hearing that, Cecil chuckled. "You're one good punching bag. All that and you still beg for more!"

She closed in, throwing a flurry of blows with kicks, but Godfrey began dodging them by a hair's breadth. Just when it seemed her blow would work, he would slip off.

It made Cecil grunt in anger.

Meanwhile, Godfrey sank into his mind, reminiscing Victoria's words. 'Move like a butterfly, light on your feet, swift to fly off your enemies' reach. You're there but you're not there.'

Cecil launched an axe kick, which he evaded, but instead of taking the advantage, he slid backward.

"What's he doing?" Isolde frowned. Her confusion was shared by others. They could finally see Godfrey holding his own, but why shy away from an opening?!

Unbeknownst to them, he was listening to the voice inside his head. 'Be unpredictable. Make them feel frustrated, make them lose themselves just to touch you. Watch them grow mad.'

"You're dead!" Cecil screamed, leaping, coming down with an elbow strike, which Godfrey dodged by taking a step to the side. The blow grazed past, just an inch. An inch away!

Cecil, fuming, followed with a powerful punch from the other hand, almost hitting his jaw, but he leaned his head backward and retreated once the blow was out of the way.

"Fight me, you rat!" Cecil hissed.

Godfrey's eyes sharpened as the voice in his head continued. 'When their frustration is at its peak. strike.' He deflected Cecil's punch and landed a punch on her cheek.

'Let it sting but not too much. Let them taste what's to come.'

Cecil was shocked at the punch, which she didn't expect. She clenched her fists and teeth, a murderous glare in her eyes.

Meanwhile, the instructor's eyes narrowed as he noticed something about Godfrey. His stance had changed.

'Let loose your disguise as a butterfly and reveal the predator.'

The moment that line bloomed within him, Godfrey moved. With one step, he got into range, moving away from Cecil's kick and slamming his fist into her thigh.

The blow almost made her lose her leg since it was still midair. That was just the beginning, as Godfrey struck her ribs, and the next was a swift, unexpected punch to her face!

'Let your foe know that they are in your domain. They are now the prey.'

He flashed to the right, striking her forearm at a place that made her defenses weaken before launching the same combo, ending it at her other cheek!

Cecil staggered back in disbelief.

'Let them predict your next move and feel helpless when they can't do a thing but you tear them apart.'

Though Cecil couldn't hear those words, since Godfrey spent years listening to the same thing while taking a beating, she watched with her eyes as Godfrey came for her left side.

She could see where he would punch, but the pain from where he struck at her right made her slow down. And the blow landed, another punch to the cheek even when she leaned back.

Like a mirage, he had shifted to the other side. It felt like his speed was soaring as the fight progressed. Before a word left her lips, another punch connected to her cheek, and her eyes spun.

The sound of Godfrey flickering around Cecil, landing heavy and piercing blows with undeniably flawless and strange footwork, made Dale absolutely horrified.

He couldn't see a strand of mercy in Godfrey's movements, not one tiny bit of restraint. He flashed from here to there, throwing a hailstorm of punches while Cecil could barely make a counter.

"He's lost himself." Siegfried paled as white as a sheet of paper.

'Finally… bite.' Godfrey connected an uppercut, lifting her off her feet as she fell back first like a pole, collapsing on the platform, looking unrecognizable and unconscious.

"Godfrey…" Isolde gasped.

He turned. "Isolde… are you next?" Godfrey asked with an innocently blank face.

The thought of it frightened Isolde, as she reacted like a cat before a bathtub filled with water.

She had good combat skills, but what Godfrey displayed was beyond her. Without the aid of the Symbiosis skill, she feared her end facing Godfrey, especially when he had that blank face that did not seem to recognize friend from foe.

"I quit. I won't fight Godfrey," Isolde said, facing the instructor. Despite knowing of her strength, not one sophomore felt it was advisable, especially with Cecil lying there with ugly bruises and a swollen face.

She had been literally beaten black and blue.

'That's a good choice,' the instructor replied to Isolde's statement inwardly. 'Just who trained that boy? It would take all that I have to bring him down and that's if he revealed everything. There might be more.'

His back felt cold as some staff came in and took Cecil to the nurse's office.

***

Godfrey sat in the classroom with other students after all their tests, staring at Edwin.

"Isolde," Edwin said out loud, "you surpassed Godfrey with 100 points, but that was really close."

Edwin himself felt shocked at the result. According to the combat instructor's remark, Godfrey had a perfect score in Best Summoner!

A perfect score with a personal review stating there was nothing that could be taught to someone like him!

Who in the world trained a sixteen-year-old to become so skilled? And what kind of willpower and torture did Godfrey go through to be so good that the combat instructor, a man employed for his combat skills alone, would give him such praise?!

...

A/N: Second chap coming soon!!

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