Peter stood on the stage, facing his opponent: a young lady who appeared to be in her early twenties, dressed in tight, functional thigh-length gear. She carried no weapon.

​Peter glanced down at his own sword, then raised his head, a frown creasing his brow. "Are you sure you don't need a weapon?" he asked, genuine concern mixing with a touch of condescension.

​"It's cute you're worried about me," the lady smirked, quickly snapping into a low, aggressive fighting posture.

"You don't have to be. Although we're both in the same rank, you look like a kid who doesn't know what he's doing." Her words were a stinging challenge.

​"Wow!! It seems Kick Queen is on fire!! This will be an amazing battle! Now, Start!!" The commentator's voice reached a crescendo.

​Peter, fueled by offense, nodded stiffly and lunged, slashing his sword downward in a powerful, direct strike.

​WHOOSH!!

​Kick Queen took a smooth side step, effortlessly dodging the blade. Before Peter could recover, she threw her hand forward and grabbed his sword wrist. With one swift, devastating movement, she used her leg to hook his ankle and threw him violently off his feet.

​".....?!"

​Peter hit the ground hard, staring up at her in shock, the wind knocked out of him.

​Kick Queen stood over him for a moment, then turned and walked about ten meters away, resuming her fighting posture.

​"Why are you even here?" she asked, her voice cold and disappointed. "With that attack, it shows you aren't a soldier; you don't even have fast reflexes. You rely too much on your weapon."

​Peter scrambled up, retrieving his sword. The shame of being taken down so easily fueled his arrogance.

​"That doesn't mean I can't defeat you," he retorted, wiping the dust off his shirt.

​Kick Queen snorted at his bravado. "Okay then. I will get serious now. Make sure to defend well."

​She moved again, her posture changing instantly, her head low like a viper's as she shot across the stage. She arrived in front of him and threw a quick, sharp punch.

​"So fast?!!"

​Peter barely managed to raise his sword to defend against the attack, but Kick Queen's punch stopped an inch from the steel surface, a feint. Before Peter could register the trick, she delivered a brutal, lightning-fast kick that connected squarely with the side of his head, throwing him sideways.

​BAM!!!

​Peter smashed into the ground, rolling to a stop, and vomited a mouthful of blood. His dizziness was immediate and intense.

​"Is that all you got?" Kick Queen asked with a frown, her blue eyes fixed on him, completely unimpressed.

​Peter shook his head, fighting the nausea and the swim in his vision. He slowly stood up, cleaning the blood off his lips, and forcing a defiant smirk.

​"I thought you could hit harder."

​Kick Queen raised an eyebrow, her patience clearly wearing thin. "Just surrender. You aren't my match."

​"Yes. This guy is just a Master Rank; although they're both technically the same rank, Kick Queen has vastly more fighting experience than him," someone in the audience muttered, explaining the obvious power difference.

​"True... She hasn't even used her signature Queen Kick yet. She doesn't take him as a threat at all," another confirmed.

​"You have a point... This guy is so weak. If she uses that kick, she might mistakenly kill him."

​"Hahahaha!! You are right."

​The general consensus was that Peter was a liability.

​BAM!!!

​The third punch, a straight jab, smashed into Peter's jaw, throwing him violently to the very edge of the stage. He vomited more blood, his body spasming slightly as he turned to face Kick Queen.

​"You can't beat me. Just surrender," she repeated, her tone cold and final.

​Peter shakily stood up, his legs trembling beneath him:

'I can't even land a single hit on her... No matter how fast I attack, it seems she can detect all my moves before I even commit,' he thought, staring at her, a glimmer of desperate strategic thinking replacing his earlier arrogance.

​"You think you're anything great!! Come on if you have the gut!!" he provoked, betting everything on her ego.

​Kick Queen exhaled, the sound of pure frustration. "You don't want to surrender. I will just have to make you."

​She lunged forward, appearing in front of him in a flash, and threw a powerful punch aimed to end the fight quickly.

​Peter stood still, letting the punch come within inches of his face. Then, in a final, desperate burst of strength, he caught her fist, locking his grip. He used all the remaining power in his bruised body and pulled her forward, throwing himself backward.

​"...?!"

​Taken completely aback by the suicidal, unsportsmanlike maneuver, Kick Queen was stunned as she tumbled with Peter toward the edge of the stage. They both fell off the platform. Her back hit the ground first, followed immediately by Peter.

​"....?!!"

​Everyone in the arena was flabbergasted, staring at the two figures below the stage in a daze. The tactical brilliance of the move was lost in the sheer audacity of it.

​They raised their heads to the giant screen, which confirmed the slow-motion replay: Kick Queen's back made contact with the arena floor first.

​"Ok!! A surprising, unconventional win!! But Sir Peter won this round!!" The commentator yelled, his voice strained with disbelief, forcing the conclusion.

​"You!!" Kick Queen spun around on the ground, rage finally replacing her cold professionalism.

​"Hey. I won. You can't do anything to me after the match," Peter said, savoring the shock.

​Kick Queen stopped herself, breathing softly as she fought for control. She then stood up, her blue eyes icy. "You win. It was my mistake for letting arrogance lead to recklessness. Good luck on the coming battle." She turned and walked away, not looking back, her pride wounded by the cheap trick.

​'What a fierce Martial Artist. Thank goodness I thought of this desperate move. I couldn't beat her skill, so I beat the rule,' Peter thought, massaging his aching jaw. He glanced around at the silent, staring audience.

​"Who cares what they think, I already won," he muttered to himself, trying to maintain his composure.

​"Good thinking!!! Nice one!!" someone yelled from the audience.

​Peter recognized the voice and looked over his shoulder at Lina, a small, grateful smile appearing on his face. With the little girl's enthusiastic cheer, the audience finally realized the tactical genius of the move and burst into applause. Peter, battered but victorious, walked off the stage.

​"Ok everyone!! The next contestants are Miss Eve and the Queen!" The commentator yelled, and everything instantly quieted down again. Every neck stretched, waiting for the Queen to arrive on stage.

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