As the competition between Arjun and Naomi came to an end, there was still some time before Jake's destiny match against Olivier. Before heading to the battlefield, he decided to check on his friend, Arjun, who was recovering in the sick bay, nursing his injuries from his hard-fought loss against Naomi.

  "Arjun, everything alright?" Jake asked with concern, stepping inside as he saw Arjun, still slightly dizzy, sitting on the bed.

  Arjun looked up at him and gave a faint smile. "I'm alright. Thanks for asking," he replied.

  He took a deep breath before shifting his focus to Jake. "You have a match against Olivier next, right? Don't let his mind games get to you." Even after his own loss, Arjun was more concerned about Jake than himself. "I hope you make it through and meet me in the Loser's Final. Jake, you can do this."

  Arjun lifted his fist, a silent gesture of camaraderie. Jake smirked and returned the fist bump, solidifying their mutual respect and determination.

  "We are back, and it's time for Loser's Round 5!" Pat announced, his dramatic flair hyping up the Maxwell Colosseum. "A match everyone has been anticipating—who will prevail and move on to the Loser's Final, and who will face elimination and return home today? We shall see!"

  "Pat, let's not keep the crowd waiting any longer! Let's get the competitors out and get the Athenaeum Games underway!" Samantha said, just as excited.

  The billboard flashed with the name of the first competitor.

  "He was eliminated in our very first match of the Athenaeum Games, but against all odds, he has impressively fought his way back without a single loss! Jake Harada!"

  As his name lit up across the massive screen, Jake walked into the arena, his baseball bat resting on his shoulder. This was the fight he had been waiting for—not just to win, but to seek answers for what Olivier had said to Carter. This wasn't about revenge—it was about proving that Olivier's dirty tricks wouldn't be tolerated.

  The crowd erupted as Samantha introduced the next competitor.

  "Our next competitor has been surrounded by controversy—whether it was the way he conceded without trying, or the bizarre circumstances under which his opponents either lost or gave up. He remains an enigma—the only pure combat sports athlete in the tournament... Olivier Leclerc!"

  The moment Olivier's name was announced and his face appeared on the billboard, the arena filled with boos and jeers.

  But Olivier didn't care. With a calm, smug expression, he strolled onto the battlefield, completely unfazed by the hostility around him. If anything, the crowd's resentment was music to his ears. As he made his way forward, he casually performed shadow fencing with his épée, ignoring the deafening chorus of boos.

  "Boo all you want!" he thought to himself. "But once I become the champion of the Athenaeum Games, you will all honor me!" His confidence never wavered. To him, Jake was just another fool—one who would fall just like all his friends before him.

  "Beeeeep!" The referee's whistle signaled the start of Loser's Round 5—the long-awaited battle between Jake Harada and Olivier Leclerc.

  

  Jake wasted no time, immediately rushing in with Stealing Bases, utilizing his speed and agility to close the distance between him and Olivier in an instant. Without hesitation, he swung his bat with full force, executing Home Run Swing, aiming to knock Olivier out in a single, decisive blow.

  Olivier, however, simply smirked. With effortless precision, he dodged the attack, executing Strategic Withdraw, smoothly retreating just out of reach while luring Jake further in.

  "Your hatred for me has reached its limit, hasn't it? You really thought you could end this with just one swing? So na?ve!" Olivier taunted, his words dripping with condescension. Without missing a beat, he followed up with Lunge and Disengage, launching forward with a powerful thrust of his épée.

  Jake, quick to react, deflected the blade with Bunt Block, using a quick, precise bunt to neutralize the attack. But as quickly as he struck, Olivier disengaged, stepping back and maintaining the space between them—a reminder that he was dictating the pace of this match.

  "So much angst, so much anger... Tell me, Jake, do you want to end up like your friend Carter?" Olivier continued, his taunts calculated to chip away at Jake's mental composure. His plan wasn't just to defeat Jake physically—it was to break him psychologically.

  Jake tried to stay calm, remembering both Arjun and Preston's advice not to fall into Olivier's mind games. But the constant barrage of words felt like needles piercing his resolve—slowly, bit by bit, they were getting to him.

  "I can't wait to see Carter's disappointed face when he realizes you lost to me." The moment those words left Olivier's lips, he struck with Calculated Clip, using a seemingly clumsy maneuver to graze Jake's bat with the tip of his épée, disrupting his grip and leaving him momentarily vulnerable. Without hesitation, Olivier immediately followed up with Feint and Flick, feinting in one direction before rapidly flicking his wrist, changing the trajectory of his attack at the last moment, aiming to catch Jake off guard.

  But Jake's Batter's Intuition kicked in. With his keen eye for reading movement, he instinctively dodged the deceptive strike. Without hesitation, he retaliated with another Home Run Swing, this time aimed straight for Olivier's head.

  But once again, Olivier grinned—as if this was exactly what he wanted. Effortlessly, he parried the attack and immediately countered with Riposte Roulette, unleashing a series of unpredictable ripostes in rapid succession. Jake was forced onto the defensive, constantly reacting to Olivier's relentless strikes. He raised his bat once more, using Bunt Block like a shield, trying to withstand the barrage of precise thrusts. But Olivier refused to let up, pressing forward with even greater speed and precision, each strike pushing Jake further back, forcing him into an increasingly dangerous position.

  Though Jake had yet to be hit, Olivier’s relentless pressure was wearing him down. He wasn’t just a mind-game player—he was a fencer of brutal precision and strategy. Jake had to find a way to break free from this suffocating assault, or he would be overwhelmed before he even had a chance to fight back.

  "What's wrong, Jake? Not expecting my prowess in combat? You thought I was just all talk?" Olivier sneered as he continued his relentless taunts. "Why not just concede now? Perhaps then, I might tell you exactly what I said to Carter that made him flare up and lose to me."

  Jake remained on the defensive, blocking Olivier's attacks, but Olivier had anticipated this reaction. Seizing the moment, he executed Mirror Maneuver, deflecting Jake's bat with a precise movement, preparing to use the momentum to deliver a lightning-fast riposte that would exploit the momentary opening.

  But Jake wasn't about to let Olivier land the first hit.

  With Fielder's Choice, he made a split-second decision to adapt his strategy, much like a fielder deciding which base to throw to. In an instant, he executed Slide Dodge, slipping past Olivier's riposte and repositioning himself at a safe distance. Without hesitation, he grabbed a random ball from the floor and launched Curveball Confound, the projectile curving unpredictably before striking Olivier's knee.

  "Argh!" Olivier winced, slightly buckling from the impact, shock flashing across his face. He hadn't expected Jake to land the first hit.

  Jake had broken the deadlock, switching tactics to a ranged game—one where Olivier's épée couldn't reach him.

  "Come forward, you prick! Fight like a man!" Olivier barked, realizing the advantage had shifted to Jake. If he allowed Jake to keep his distance, it was only a matter of time before he would be worn down completely. He needed to think fast—to find a way to lure Jake back into close range, where he could regain control of the fight.

  "What a change of events! I thought Olivier had this match under control with his relentless pressure, but somehow Jake managed to land the first hit with a ranged move!" Pat exclaimed, his dramatic energy fueling the crowd's excitement.

  "You're right, Pat, and I'm sure the audience also believed Olivier was ahead," Samantha added, analyzing the sequence. "He kept Jake constantly on edge with Calculated Clip and Riposte Roulette, ensuring he had no room to breathe."

  She continued with her play-by-play breakdown. "But Jake is not someone to underestimate. When Olivier executed Mirror Maneuver, attempting to parry and follow up with a riposte, Jake immediately recognized the setup and made a quick decision—sliding out of danger with Slide Dodge before countering with Curveball Confound, striking Olivier on the knee." Samantha leaned in, intrigued. "Now, the question is—how will Olivier come back from this?"

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Olivier's mind raced as he analyzed his next move—he had to close the distance. Jake had already picked up a second ball from the arena floor and launched another Curveball Confound. Olivier had no immediate answer to counter it, and the ball struck his torso, causing him to flinch slightly from the pain. A deep frown of concern furrowed his brow—he had no direct counter to Jake's ranged attacks. If Jake continued this strategy, it was only a matter of time before Olivier was completely worn down.

  He needed a plan—not to chase Jake, but to make Jake come to him. A sinister thought crept into Olivier's mind as he smirked. "Don't you want to know what I said to Carter? Come closer, and I'll tell you. Don't you want to find out?"

  With an almost inviting posture, Olivier placed his épée behind his back, lowering his stance. Jake hesitated but cautiously lowered his baseball bat, though he kept his guard up, stepping forward toward Olivier. He knew it was a trap—but he had to take the risk to hear what Olivier had to say.

  As Jake moved forward, Olivier's smile widened.

  "Come forward, Jake. Don't you want to hear what I told your dear friend Carter that made him so mad?"

  The moment Jake inched close enough, Olivier's smile vanished.

  Without hesitation, Olivier unleashed En Garde Enigma, delivering a swift and unexpected backhanded strike with his épée, but Jake was ready. With a quick swing of his bat, he once again performed Bunt Block, deflecting the strike before it could land.

  Olivier didn't let up. Executing Phantom Footwork, he used deceptive movement, creating the illusion that he was closer than he actually was, shifting right beside Jake.

  That was when he finally revealed the truth—the very thing he had told Carter.

  "Remember Madison? The girl I competed against?" he whispered into Jake's ear. "The restroom handle? That wasn't a coincidence—I was the one behind it. An easy win for me."

  Jake froze, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard.

  On the tournament day of Olivier Leclerc vs. Madison Thompson, just before her scheduled match against Olivier, Maddie headed to the restroom, unaware that she was being watched. Olivier observed her carefully, his eyes darting around the area, scanning for security cameras that might catch him if he acted on the sinister plan forming in his mind.

  There were none directly facing the restroom door—only cameras monitoring the corridor.

  People were walking by, entering and exiting the restrooms. Olivier's sinister thoughts began to take shape.

  "If she's locked inside, I'll get a free win. No need to waste any effort."

  Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he discreetly pulled out his épée and jabbed the female restroom door knob, subtly damaging the lock and rendering the door impossible to open from the inside.

  Satisfied with his work, he whistled casually and walked into the men's restroom, blending into the crowd, ensuring that no suspicion would fall on him.

  His plan was simple but effective. Madison, unable to leave the restroom, would be disqualified by default for failing to show up—handing Olivier an effortless victory.

  Back in the tournament scene, Jake finally understood what Carter had gone through—the rage that had consumed him when Olivier whispered those words. Carter was someone who embodied a strong sense of brotherhood, valuing teamwork and camaraderie, whether on the sports field or in everyday life. More than that, he was justice-oriented and fiercely protective, with an unshakable sense of fairness.

  The moment Carter learned about the injustice done to Maddie, he simply couldn’t stand by—that was why he had refused to back down against Olivier. He couldn’t afford to lose to someone as dishonorable as him.

  At that moment, Jake felt the same anger, but he also knew that if he allowed himself to be consumed by it, he would fall into the same trap that Olivier had set for Carter. He needed to stay composed. If he wanted to stand a chance, he couldn’t allow any mental mistakes caused by Olivier’s revelations.

  Olivier’s words were deliberate—designed to provoke a reaction. Jake had to see through the manipulation and focus on the fight ahead.

  Olivier, noticing that Jake was still processing his words, saw the perfect opportunity to land a decisive hit. He executed Feint Fantasia, initiating a dazzling display of flourishes with his épée, creating an elaborate illusion of attack directions to leave Jake vulnerable to a swift, unexpected counter-thrust.

  "Jake Harada, of all the contestants, I hate you the most. You're loved by everyone, and that disgusts me! Let my victory over you serve as a warning to the rest of the competition!" Olivier sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

  With those words, he followed up with his ultimate move—Opportunist's Onslaught. Creating a false opening, he launched a sudden and powerful strike from an unpredictable angle, fully expecting to end the match right then and there.

  But his attack hit nothing but air.

  Olivier's eyes widened in shock—Jake was gone.

  Before he could react, he realized Jake had reverted to his ranged strategy once again. The moment Olivier had committed to his attack, Jake had already been on high alert, his Batter's Intuition allowing him to read not only Olivier's movements but also his mind games. With a Slide Dodge, Jake avoided the strike and repositioned himself to a more favorable distance.

  Jake had grown.

  Every match had honed Jake's instincts—from facing Professor Elden Thorne and his technological Sword of Water, to battling the ruthless Yakuza boss of Kurokaze-kai, Kazuo Mori, who wielded one of the Legendary Seven Swords, the Sword of Spirit. Through these battles, alongside his friends and camaraderie, Jake had evolved from an ordinary teenager into a reluctant hero.

  Olivier wasn't even on their level—he was just another obstacle.

  Jake wasn't fighting for revenge—not for Carter, not for Maddie. By winning this match, he was going to prove a point. He would teach Olivier that dirty tricks wouldn't get him far, and perhaps, hope that this defeat would serve as a lesson—one that might push him to become a better person after the tournament.

  Now, he shifted back to his projectile attacks, knowing he had the advantage at range. But this time, instead of letting Olivier guess the direction of his throws, Jake opted for a more aggressive approach.

  With a flick of his wrist, Jake launched Fastball Flick, sending a barrage of small balls hurtling toward Olivier at high speed, much like a pitcher throwing fastballs in rapid succession. Olivier instinctively attempted Strategic Withdraw, carefully retreating at precise angles to evade the incoming projectiles, but the sheer volume was overwhelming. Forced into a desperate defense, he swung his épée wildly, trying to deflect the relentless assault.

  But then—something came from above.

  Olivier’s eyes widened in realization—he had been too focused on deflecting the barrage of projectiles to notice Jake’s next move. By the time it hit him, it was already too late.

  Jake was airborne!

  Using the projectile assault as a distraction, he had leapt high into the air, setting up his ultimate technique—Grand Slam! With all his strength, he swung his bat in a devastating arc, aiming directly at Olivier.

  "Oh no!" Olivier gasped, his mouth open in horror—he had no time to dodge.

  "Clang!" Jake's bat slammed down hard onto Olivier's shoulder, the impact knocking his épée out of his hands, sending it clattering to the ground.

  For a brief moment, the entire arena fell silent—the audience and commentators stunned by what had just happened. The referee glanced at Olivier, confirming his inability to continue before raising his whistle to his lips.

  "Beeeeep! Match point—Jake Harada!" The referee’s hand shot up, pointing at Jake, officially awarding him the victory. For a brief moment, the arena was silent, the weight of the moment sinking in—then, in an instant, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, celebrating Jake’s incredible display.

  "What a match! Jake’s strategy was remarkable—the finishing, absolutely splendid!" Pat exclaimed, his excitement contagious.

  "I agree, Pat," Samantha added, seamlessly transitioning into her play-by-play analysis. "Olivier was a serious threat at close range—using Phantom Footwork to maintain distance, executing Feint Fantasia with a dazzling display of flourishes to create an illusion of attack, and ultimately going for his Opportunist’s Onslaught to seal the match. But Jake’s reaction was flawless—avoiding it with Batter’s Intuition and Slide Dodge, keeping the battle at range where he had the advantage. He used Fastball Flick, launching a barrage of small, high-speed projectiles at Olivier, who became too focused on deflecting them. That moment of distraction gave Jake the perfect opportunity to go airborne, executing Grand Slam, swinging his bat in a devastating arc that struck Olivier’s shoulder and disarmed him."

  Pat nodded in agreement. "A remarkable performance from Jake, securing his spot in the next round. And with that, Olivier’s journey in the Athenaeum Games comes to an end. Though his run has been filled with controversy, there’s no denying that he gave it his all. We wish him the best in his future endeavors."

  "Yes!" Arjun, still in the sick bay, clenched his fist in excitement, watching the match unfold with pride. Though Jake was now his next opponent, he was genuinely happy and honored to face his friend rather than Olivier.

  Across the city, Preston sat at a bar, watching the live telecast with his arms crossed. A small smirk appeared on his face—though he didn’t particularly like Jake, he was pleased to see his schoolmate pull through.

  Meanwhile, Naomi, watching from a private area, nodded in approval. She had been hoping for Jake to win—knowing this would give her the opportunity to face him again.

  Back at the hospital ward, Jake’s friends—Luna, Akane, and Maddie—stood around Carter’s unconscious body, watching the match unfold on the screen. When Jake’s victory was announced, they cheered loudly, despite the gloomy atmosphere of Carter still not waking up. The result gave them something positive to hold onto.

  In the VIP lounge, Mr. Laurent stood up, clapping vigorously. "Bravo! Bravo!" he shouted, his voice booming through the room. He wasn’t shy about showing his favoritism—he was genuinely thrilled with the outcome of the match.

  While everyone celebrated Jake’s victory, there was one person who did not share the same sentiment—Olivier himself.

  Standing in the middle of the arena, his hand gripping his shoulder, Olivier’s eyes and mouth remained wide open in shock, unable to process what had just transpired in such a short moment. The deafening cheers around him felt like silence—his mind was in chaos, struggling to accept the unthinkable outcome.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  His decision to concede to Naomi in the Winner’s Round had been deliberate—part of his grand strategy. His plan was to make a comeback through the Loser’s Bracket, eventually reaching the Grand Finals against Naomi, where his victory over her would solidify his status as the ultimate champion. It was supposed to make him look good.

  But that plan had completely fallen apart.

  He had lost. And not in the Grand Finals, but in the Loser’s Round—to Jake Harada.

  "This is not fair! I didn’t lose! That guy cheated!"

  Reality snapped back into Olivier as he shouted frantically at the referee, his voice filled with desperation and denial. He pointed wildly at Jake, his face contorted with rage, refusing to accept the outcome.

  The referee stared at him, confused. The ruling had been clear—Jake had won fair and square, and Olivier had been disarmed, which, under the Athenaeum Games' rules, meant an automatic loss.

  "Reverse your decision now and let the match continue!" Olivier demanded, his frustration boiling over. In his fit of rage, he grabbed the referee’s collar, his grip tightening as he tried to force compliance.

  Instantly, the security team intervened. Two guards grabbed Olivier, forcefully pulling him away from the referee as he struggled violently.

  "Let me continue! I didn’t lose!" Olivier screamed, thrashing violently against the security guards, still desperately reaching for his épée, clinging to the delusion that if he could just rearm himself, the competition would resume. But his protests fell on deaf ears—the officials had no patience for his outburst. As they dragged him away, he struggled, planting his feet and kicking against the ground, leaving skid marks in a futile attempt to resist.

  "It’s not over, Jake! You connard!" Olivier spat, the French insult cutting through the air. "You haven’t seen the last of me!" His voice echoed through the arena as the security guards forcefully hauled him away, disappearing from sight.

  Jake watched the entire scene unfold, his expression unreadable. With a slow shake of his head, he let out a sigh. "Would Olivier ever realize that playing dirty would never lead to anything good?" he wondered. If this fight had taught Olivier a valuable lesson—that honor mattered more than deceit—then maybe, just maybe, this battle hadn’t been in vain.

  https://linktr.ee/Cjbaron. Your encouragement keeps me motivated and inspired to keep creating.