When he woke up, he was sitting back where he belonged. His right arm wasn't locked up anymore, and his leg wasn't in pain. Surprisingly, his neck wasn't in pain, and he had no headaches. He should have been happy, but he only felt disappointed and angry at himself. He had done significantly worse than before. Both of them had the same amount of time training, and yet he had done worse; he was closer to beating her a month ago than now. He wanted to scream and punch the ground but kept a calm look. He had others looking at him and Iza. The two had spent quite a lot of Chi, so they were easy targets for whoever was next.
"Alright, let's see who's next."
He drew another name from the hat as he shook his head. He seemed disappointed about the outcome as he sighed.
"Iza, who would you like to fight..."
Iza turned back to look at Charlotte, but she didn't say anything as she silently stared at him. He stared back, and the two stayed this way for a few seconds before the teacher coughed. He didn't know if he was supposed to say or ask something or if she was looking past him. So he moved slightly to let her look behind him, and her gaze followed him.
"W-what is it?"
He finally asked, not understanding if Iza was doing it to mess with him or if she was looking at something else. Did he have something on his face?
"You wanna fight again? I know it might be a bit too soon. But I did say I would hope to fight again."
He touched his face as she spoke, eliciting a chuckle from her. Was she staring at him, hoping he would ask her to fight again? His pride was bruised from the previous fight, but this could be the chance to restore some Chi and at least make himself no longer a target.
"Sure. I don't mind; I must pay you back triple now."
He tried hiding his anger, but she seemed to smirk when hearing his heated words. The teacher rolled his eyes, and the two were teleported back onto the stage. Iza tossed her spear off the stage.
"How about we keep weapons and Chi out of this match, just pure hand-to-hand combat? We would benefit from a more laid-back approach, wouldn't we?"
He nods, taking his gauntlets off and tossing them off stage next to the spear. He was about to get into his stance, but she gestured to his chest. He slowly worked on taking off his tunic and tossing the chest plate down next to the gauntlets; without it, he got to show off that he was pretty fit. At least a bit of his pride healed when he saw Iza raise an eyebrow before covering himself with the tunic.
The two took their stances, remaining still for only a few seconds. He measured her condition briefly, and Charlotte took a deep breath before moving in. The two met in the middle of the stage, considering the situation and rules. Charlotte should have the upper hand; he was more durable than her without her spear present and faster than her.
She tried to throw a punch only to have him swat it aside and, in the same motion, step in and elbow her in the chest, pushing her back. He raised his leg and fainted a kick to her side; she moved her guard to block an attack that never came as he struck her face. Her body was tough to be sure, but his attack seemed to have worked enough that her nose began bleeding.
In that small exchange, he felt slightly pleased; he was doing much better. She seemed to agree, giving a slight nod and wiping the blood from the sleeve of her tunic; the blood disappeared from the tunic soon after.
He was disappointed that he couldn't move as fast as he wished and didn't want to lock up right now. She approached again, raising her guard and slightly crouching down the two about the same height now. She was weaving her head left and right as she approached.
He threw a punch in the path where she was planning to move her head, but as soon as he moved, she stopped just before the punch landed and held onto his hand and forearm and twisted, trying to dislocate his wrist. He pulled his hand back as she bent his hand.
She hadn't succeeded in dislocating his wrist, which was good. Once it reached a certain angle, it seemed to get extraordinarily rigid and refused to budge. The bad news was she had managed to lock his hand up, so it was practically as if it had been dislocated, as he couldn't move it anymore.
"You are tough; I thought I had it...what kind of training do you have to do to get a body that tough."
Instead of answering, he moved closer to her and threw a half-hearted punch; she tried to step away, but he brought his foot down onto hers, stopping any attempt to get away and grabbing hold of her tunic and pulling her closer as he swung at her face with his locked up hand. She did manage to raise her guard in time to block his attack, using the chance to pull her foot free and punch him in the throat. He would make a strange noise as he let go of her tunic before having her punch him across the face and send him back. He coughed and held onto his throat.
"a-are you crazy? You could have killed me!"
His voice sounded raspy, and she shrugged, catching her breath momentarily before closing the distance. He raised his guard and noticed that his locked-up hand had gone slack...his punch had done the job and finished dislocating his wrist. He wasn't feeling any pain, but the adrenaline would wear off, and he would pay for swinging with that hand.