The dark bullet passed by the ear of his opponent. The third year froze in fright, knowing that he would have died just now.
"I forfei—" he tried to give up, but Silva was already right in front of him with his blade to his neck.
Silva bent in closely and whispered into his ear.
"Next time, be careful, or I'll have your head." The threat was backed by heavy bloodlust, so much that the third year couldn't stand. He fell on his butt, shivering.
Silva walked down from the stage, and those around shifted to make way for him. Not only had he dominated and won, but he had also brought his opponent to their knees.
He had utterly and completely defeated this third year, and this would mark the first day of the long-lasting issue that Silva would have with the third years, and the school entirely.
