Chapter 68 What Gives You the Right to Beat Me?
Afternoon.
The sports field was packed with people.
Windsor Academy's athletic facilities were impressive, featuring everything from an equestrian center to a golf course.
The first-graders were competing in archery and fencing.
At the archery range.
Max changed into his professional protective gear, ready for action.
Windsor Academy offered numerous sports programs. Beyond basic athletics, they included elite sports like fencing and equestrian events, with archery being among them.
This was Max's forte.
Max loved archery, so Grace had enrolled him in archery lessons. He attended two sessions every week and trained diligently during his free time, achieving outstanding results.
Parents sat in the spectator stands while the competing children took their positions on the field.
Mason happened to be in the same competition bracket as him.
Max was adjusting his bow when Mason suddenly approached, his face full of contempt and disdain. "A poor kid like you knows archery?"
Max looked up, meeting his gaze with cold mockery. "Got a problem with that?"
Mason sneered, "Hmph! What happens when you lose to me?"
Max shook his head and snorted, "Why would you have such unrealistic fantasies?"
"You!" Mason was instantly enraged. "I'll never lose to a poor kid like you! My mom says kids from the slums like you only get to attend Windsor Academy because it's charity. If I lose to you, it would be my disgrace!"
Max said casually, "Then you'd better not lose to me, or you'll be too upset to sleep tonight."
Mason's face turned grim with anger.
A referee approached and told Mason, "Mason, return to your position."
Mason turned and walked away.
Max pursed his pink lips and gazed toward the target 200 feet away, counting his arrows.
The competition consisted of two halves, with 12 arrows per half. Scoring was based on the rings hit, with the highest total winning the championship. If scores were tied, there would be a playoff to determine the champion, runner-up, and third place.
Max wore arm guards and a chest protector, his limbs slender and his posture straight and elegant.
The referee's whistle sounded.
Max gracefully drew his recurve bow, nocked an arrow, and shot first.
The arrow hit the 9-ring.
The crowd erupted in amazement.
Other contestants looked at Max's target—a 9-ring on his first shot was an incredible start!
"He's amazing!"
"Nine rings on the first shot!"
"Maybe he just got lucky!"
However, in Max's eyes, this excellent first shot was actually a significant mistake.
Mason glanced at Max's target dismissively.
Just lucky!
He drew his bow and shot an 8-ring.
Max steadily shot another arrow.
"Ten rings!"
The first perfect shot of the competition was born.
Alexander couldn't help but feel surprised.
Max had such remarkable talent in archery.
Alexander was also excellent at archery, having once reached national team standards. However, Liam hadn't inherited this particular talent and showed no interest in archery, so he hadn't entered the competition.
At only seven years old, Max's performance was incredibly stable, comparable to a professional archer.
This perfect shot put significant psychological pressure on Mason, whose second arrow only scored 7 rings.
Just two arrows had created a 4-ring gap.
If he fell too far behind, it would be very difficult to win the remaining competition.
The first half ended.
Max led overwhelmingly with a score of 105 rings.
Mason was left far behind with 84 rings.
As soon as Mason returned to the rest area, he was met with Amelia's furious scolding.
"You actually lost to that bastard! You've disappointed me so much!" Amelia's eyes were red with anger. "You've always been the archery champion, always first place. What happened to your performance today?"
Mason's eyes reddened with anger, large tears rolling down his cheeks as he gritted his teeth. "I won't lose to him!"
Amelia said, "There's still the second half. If you lose to him, I'll be very angry!"
Mason fearfully hugged her. "Mom, don't be angry! I'll definitely perform well and beat him for first place!"
Amelia said, "You'd better keep your word and not disappoint me!"
The second half began.
When Mason returned to the field, Max was already checking his equipment. Mason glared at him viciously.
Max seemed to sense his malicious gaze, turned around, and gave him a provocative sideways glance, casually flipping him off at chest level.
Max showed no signs of fatigue or strain. If he maintained the same stable performance as the first half, the championship would undoubtedly be his.
How could Mason accept that!
The competition resumed.
With the referee's signal, Max continued his steady performance, shooting three consecutive arrows: 9 rings, 10 rings, 10 rings.
His near-perfect scores made Mason feel completely outmatched.
The score gap continued to widen.
Max's ring count was far ahead, making his victory virtually certain.
The entire crowd was cheering for Max.
Mason felt increasingly unbalanced—those cheers should have been for him.
Max had stolen his spotlight and the honor that should have been his!
As his mindset deteriorated, Mason's performance became increasingly unstable. When he drew his bow for the final time, he suddenly realized the situation was hopeless and felt like giving up. When he released the arrow, it flew straight toward the spectator stands!
"Ah!"
A scream accompanied the sight of the arrow heading directly toward a little girl in the crowd.
Her mother nearby was terrified, shielding her daughter and trembling.
Just then, another arrow flew swiftly toward the out-of-control projectile, knocking down the arrow aimed at the spectators and embedding firmly in the ground.
Max frowned slightly and lowered his bow.
He had noticed Mason's arrow veering off course toward the spectator stands and used his final arrow to intercept it, then calmly put down his bow.
After the close call, the crowd realized that the rescue shot had come from Max, erupting in cheers and applause.
"It's Max from the Lions class!"
"He saved my daughter! If not for him, my daughter would have been injured by that arrow!"
"He's incredible! He intercepted that arrow with such precision!"
"This sport is too dangerous! If that arrow had hit someone, the consequences would have been unthinkable!"
The referee announced the results.
Max won first place with a score of 204 rings.
Mason immediately flew into a rage, threw down his bow, and strode quickly toward Max.
Max was about to leave the field when Mason suddenly grabbed his collar and slammed him hard against the wall.
Max's back collided heavily with the wall, breaking out in a cold sweat from the pain.
Mason gripped his collar tightly, teeth clenched as he snarled, "You bastard, what gives you the right to beat me? What gives you the right!"