Chapter 75 Chapter 75
The One shoved Ryan back with effortless force, like he was nothing more than an inconvenience. Ryan staggered a few steps before catching himself, his shoes scraping harshly against the ground.
Slowly, The One straightened.
He rolled his shoulders, tilting his head slightly as if loosening muscles that hadn’t been used in a long time. There was something unsettling in the way he moved—too controlled, too deliberate, like every motion was being measured and held back.
A faint, almost bored exhale left him.
“That weak little display…” he began, his voice low and steady, carrying just enough for Ryan to hear. “And you still found a way to boast about it.” His lips curved faintly, but there was no humor in it. “Pathetic. I think I hate you more now.”
Ryan’s expression twisted instantly, anger flashing across his face as he stared at him.
“Shut up, freak.”
The insult came out sharp, but there was something underneath it now—something tighter, less certain.
He didn’t give himself time to think.
Ryan lunged forward, pivoting on his foot as he spun into a fast, aggressive roundhouse kick aimed straight at The One’s head. It was the kind of move meant to end things quickly, driven more by frustration than precision.
But The One didn’t react the way anyone expected.
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t tense.
Didn’t even look like he cared.
At the very last second, he shifted—just a small step to the side, so minimal it was almost insulting.
Ryan’s leg sliced through empty air.
The momentum threw him off balance instantly. His body twisted awkwardly, his footing slipping beneath him before he could recover—
And then he hit the ground hard.
The sound echoed, dull and heavy, knocking the breath right out of him.
For a moment, everything stilled.
Then the murmurs started.
At first, low and scattered—but quickly building.
“I knew Koda couldn’t just lose like that…”
“He was obviously holding back before.”
“Look at him now… he’s not even trying.”
“Trust him to make it look easy.”
“He’s just… different.”
The voices overlapped, rising and blending into something louder, something suffocating.
Ryan pushed himself up slightly, his chest tightening as the words sank in. His fingers curled against the floor, frustration and embarrassment crawling up his spine.
But none of that seemed to matter to The One.
He hadn’t looked at the crowd once.
His attention remained fixed on Ryan, unwavering, heavy in a way that felt almost physical.
When he finally spoke again, his voice had changed.
It was quieter now.
Calmer.
And far more dangerous.
“Do you really want to do this?”
There was no mockery left in his tone. No teasing, no arrogance.
Just a question that didn’t feel like a question at all.
For the briefest moment, something shifted in his eyes.
It was subtle—so subtle that anyone else would have missed it completely. But it was there.
A flicker of something ancient.
Something that didn’t belong.
It passed as quickly as it came, leaving nothing behind but that same steady, unreadable stare.
Ryan felt it.
Even if he couldn’t explain it, even if he refused to acknowledge it—his body reacted before his pride could catch up. A chill ran through him, sharp and sudden, freezing him in place for half a second too long.
And he hated that.
Hated the hesitation.
Hated the way his chest tightened for no reason he could name.
The laughter from the students snapped him out of it.
Louder now.
Sharper.
Pressing in on him from all sides.
Ryan’s jaw clenched hard as he forced himself to stand fully, brushing his hand roughly against the ground as if he could wipe away the moment.
“Shut up,” he snapped, his voice rising, directed more at the crowd than at The One. “All of you—just shut up!”
The noise faltered slightly, but the damage was already done.
When Ryan turned back, his anger was still there—but it wasn’t as solid as before.
Because The One hadn’t moved.
Not even a step.
He was still standing exactly where he had been, watching him with that same calm, suffocating stillness.
Not rushing.
Not attacking.
Ryan knew he couldn’t let this go.
Not after being thrown to the ground like he was nothing. Not after the laughter. Not after the way he was standing there—calm, untouched, like none of this even mattered.
The humiliation burned deep, twisting into something ugly inside his chest.
“I’m going to kill you,” Ryan said, his voice low and shaking with restrained fury as his eyes locked onto The One.
For a brief moment, the air around them seemed to tighten.
“Alright, boys, that’s enough,” Miss Elara’s voice cut in, firm and commanding. “Don’t take it too far. This is still training.”
But Ryan didn’t hear her.
Or maybe he did—and chose to ignore it.
Because the next second, he was already charging forward.
His footsteps pounded hard against the ground as he closed the distance, fists flying with everything he had. Each punch came faster than the last, driven by pure anger, his movements losing form as rage took control.
Yet not a single one connected.
The One moved with unsettling ease.
He didn’t rush. Didn’t strain. He simply… avoided everything. A slight tilt of his head, a small shift of his shoulders, a step just barely out of reach. It was almost insulting—like Ryan wasn’t worth the effort.
That calm, that control—it only made the anger worse.
A deep, animalistic growl tore from Ryan’s throat, raw and unrestrained.
His body began to change.
Claws slid out from his fingers, glinting under the light, followed by the sharp extension of his fangs. His muscles tightened violently as the shift took over, bones cracking and reforming with a sickening series of pops.
Gasps spread through the students as his form expanded, twisting, stretching—
Until a massive wolf stood where he had been.
Its fur bristled, its chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, eyes locked onto The One with pure, unfiltered hostility.
The wolf began to circle him slowly.
Each step was measured. Each movement filled with intent.
But The One didn’t move.
He stood there, completely still, watching.
Observing.
As though he were studying something mildly interesting rather than facing a full transformation.
“Isn’t this supposed to be training?” a student whispered from the sidelines, unease creeping into their voice.
“This doesn’t feel like training anymore…” another murmured.
“Tear him apart, Ryan!” Molly shouted, her voice sharp with excitement.
Miss Elara turned her head sharply toward her, disapproval clear in her expression, but Molly only scoffed and crossed her arms, her attention fixed on the fight.
The wolf suddenly lunged.
It moved with terrifying speed, claws extended, jaws opening wide as it aimed straight for The One’s throat.
And for the first time—
The One smiled.
It wasn’t a friendly smile.
It was small. Controlled. Almost… pleased.
At the exact moment the wolf reached him, he moved.
Not back.
Not away.
Forward.
His hand came up with precise timing, and in a single, fluid motion, he struck.
The impact was devastating.
A powerful blow landed against the wolf’s side, the force behind it unnatural—far beyond what should have been possible.
The sound alone made several students flinch.
The wolf’s body was sent flying across the field, crashing through the air before slamming violently into a tree in the distance.
The impact echoed.
Leaves shook loose. Branches trembled.
And then—
Silence.
Every head turned.
Ryan’s body dropped from the tree, shifting back mid-fall, the transformation reversing as he hit the ground. By the time he landed, he was human again, sprawled and completely exposed, too stunned to even move.
For a second, no one spoke.
Then—
“Oh my God…”
A few girls covered their mouths, eyes wide in shock.
“He just—”
“Ryan got taken out in one hit…”
“And he’s—”
Laughter broke out, spreading quickly through the crowd, uncontrollable and loud.
Ryan’s face burned with humiliation, but he couldn’t even bring himself to get up.
Molly’s expression twisted, her excitement vanishing as embarrassment replaced it. She looked away sharply, jaw tightening.
A few students hurried over, grabbing Ryan and helping him up, quickly pulling him away from the field.
“Enough,” Miss Elara said firmly, her voice cutting through the noise as the laughter slowly died down. “That’s enough, all of you.”
Her gaze swept across the students before settling.
“As for the girls,” she continued, her tone leaving no room for argument, “we’ll proceed. Molly… you’re up.”
A slow, satisfied smirk spread across Molly’s face as she stepped forward.
“Harper.”
At the sound of her name, Harper froze.
Her heart skipped.
Molly walked up to her without hesitation, her eyes gleaming with something sharp and personal. Without warning, she shoved Harper hard in the shoulder.
“Prepare to die, maid,” Molly said coldly.
Harper stumbled back, barely catching herself, panic rising instantly in her chest.
Her fingers trembled slightly at her sides.
She knew it.
She knew she wasn’t ready.
Her power wasn’t stable. Not fully awakened. Not something she could rely on—especially not against someone like Molly, who clearly wanted more than just a simple match.
And somewhere behind her—
She could still feel it.
That presence.
That heavy, watching stillness.
The One hadn’t left.
And for some reason… that scared her even more.