Novel's Extra: I Awakened The Strongest Physique From The Start-Chapter 251 - 252 - Admit Defeat?

Fenna knelt on a knee, her breaths ragged and uneven.

Blood trickled from the wounds littering her body, staining the cracked and shattered floor of the Colosseum.

Her arms trembled from the force of her exhaustion, yet her fists remained clenched, refusing to let go of the battle spirit still burning in her heart.

She had lost count of how many times Vaelith had sent her crashing to the ground.

The crushing weight of his space-warping abilities made it nearly impossible to land a decisive hit, and every attack he threw was precise and calculated.

The worst thing was that they were designed not just to defeat her but to humiliate her.

Still, she refused to bow.

The Colosseum was eerily silent, the earlier cheers long replaced by a growing sense of unease.

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The students of Originveil Academy, who were once so full of pride and confidence in their champions, were now watched in stunned disbelief.

Their supposedly strongest student council president—the one they had always looked up to—was on her last legs against a single opponent.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, whispers of doubt and creeping despair.

"How... How is she losing this badly?" A first-year student stammered, gripping the edge of his seat.

"She’s the strongest in the academy... right?" Another voice wavered, uncertain.

"It feels like she’s fighting someone on a completely different level," an older student muttered, his hands tightening into fists.

There were others, however, who weren’t as rational.

"Tch! Originveil’s supposed to be the top academy! Why is a single guy making a joke out of us?!"

"I thought we were sending out our best! Why does it feel like we’re just lining up to lose?"

"Maybe we’re not as strong as we thought we were."

Doubt festered, poisoning the once unwavering belief in their institution.

Even the teachers, who had initially been firm in their confidence, remained silent.

Their lips were pressed into tight lines as they kept their thoughts to themselves, unable to find words to reassure their students.

They had long realized the truth—Vaelith wasn’t just a strong opponent. He was something else entirely.

He carried himself with an ease that spoke of experience, an instinct honed far beyond his supposed age.

No matter how monstrous a genius was, no student should be able to fight like this. This wasn’t just talent—it was power backed by something terrifyingly vast.

Yet, despite all this, Fenna remained standing, something worthy of admiration.

Even some teachers weren’t sure if they could do it.

Vaelith, on the other hand, exhaled, his golden eyes gleaming with something between amusement and irritation as he ran his fingers through his silver hair.

"You know," he mused, stepping forward lazily, "you could just stay down. I doubt anyone would blame you."

Fenna spat blood to the side, lifting her gaze to meet his with unwavering defiance. Her legs ached, her vision blurred at the edges, but she forced herself up, steadying her stance.

"Not happening," she snorted, a smirk ghosting her lips despite her pain. "You’re going to have to put me down."

A hush fell over the crowd at her words. Even in the face of overwhelming defeat, she still refused to surrender.

Some students, though shaken, felt a spark reignite within them.

"She’s still fighting..."

"She won’t give up, even now?"

"That’s our president..."

But others weren’t so easily swayed.

"She’s just being reckless. She should’ve accepted defeat a long time ago."

"What’s the point in standing up if she’s just going to get crushed again?"

Vaelith, after being stunned for a while, chuckled, a dark smirk marring his face. "Now that I think about it, you’re quite beautiful."

Fenna’s body tensed as a pang of disgust hit her stomach.

The way he looked at her made her feel sick for some reason. His eyes seemed to be gazing at her as if she were an object of his lust.

"I wonder how you are under those clothes of yours." He completed his words, licking his lips as he bent forward.

Fenna’s entire body stiffened, a cold chill running down her spine at Vaelith’s words.

For the first time in this battle, it wasn’t the pain of her wounds or the suffocating weight of his powers that made her feel truly vulnerable.

It was the way he looked at her.

His golden eyes gleamed with something twisted and predatory as his smirk deepened.

The way his tongue briefly flicked out to wet his lips made bile rise in her throat.

Disgust. Pure, unfiltered disgust coursed through her veins.

The audience erupted.

"What the hell did he just say?!"

"Did he—did he really just—?!"

"Bastard! Who does he think he is?!"

The students who had been doubting Originveil moments ago were now seething in rage, their earlier despair momentarily forgotten.

Even those who had mocked Fenna for continuing to fight now glared at Vaelith with absolute fury.

Teachers who had held their silence clenched their fists, their expressions dark.

Yet Vaelith? He barely even acknowledged the uproar.

Instead, he shrugged nonchalantly, tilting his head as if he truly saw no issue with his words.

"I gave her a chance," he said, his tone almost lazy. "She could’ve admitted defeat, but she didn’t. So now, as the stronger one, I can do what I want."

The Colosseum went deathly silent.

Then, a pressure unlike anything Fenna had ever felt before crashed down on her.

Her limbs locked in place, her muscles frozen against an invisible force so overwhelming it felt like an enormous, unseen hand had wrapped around her entire body, pinning her down.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even twitch.

Vaelith took slow, measured steps toward her.

"Can’t move?" He murmured, amusement flickering in his golden eyes. "That’s too bad."

He stood before her now, towering over her battered form. His hand lifted, fingers extending towards her breasts—slowly. Deliberately.

He wasn’t rushing. He wanted her to feel every second of it.

He wanted to see the despair in her eyes.

Fenna’s breath hitched, her heart hammering violently against her ribs.

’Is this what I amount to?’

Her thoughts spiraled, memories of her life flashing before her eyes.

The chains her people had placed on her, the expectations, the decisions made for her—the suffocating fate she had tried so hard to defy.

’Do I always have to give up? Follow what’s written for me?’

Her vision blurred, not just from exhaustion but from something deeper—a hopelessness she had never wanted to acknowledge.

’Will I never be free?’

Vaelith’s fingers inched closer. The crowd was screaming, but the weight on her body wouldn’t let her fight back.

She was powerless.

Her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms so hard they nearly drew blood.

She gritted her teeth, closing her eyes in resignation.

Maybe this was it. Maybe surrendering was the only way out.

Then—

A gust of wind blew through the Colosseum.

Sharp. Cold. Commanding.

Everything fell silent.

Fenna’s eyes snapped open in confusion.

Vaelith’s fingers never reached her.

Instead, between them stood a familiar back—one she never expected to see here.

A deep, steady voice rang through the Colosseum, carrying a weight that sent shivers down everyone’s spine.

"Why are you fighting when you’re sick?"

Fenna’s breath paused.

’That voice…’

Her vision swayed, her already battered body threatening to collapse, but for the first time in this battle, her lips curled into the faintest of smiles.

’Alex…’

Her body finally gave out. But she didn’t panic.

Because somehow, she knew.

She knew he wouldn’t let her fall.

And he didn’t.

Before she could hit the ground, strong arms caught her effortlessly, nestling her as if she weighed nothing.

A warmth she hadn’t realized she missed surrounded her, grounding her in the moment.

His voice softened, no longer carrying the weight of command but something gentler, something reassuring.

"Sleep well, Fenna."

His arms tightened just slightly, secure and steady.

"I’ll take care of things from here."