The Transmigrated Author

[Paris, L'Institut des Lumières Academy - Main Arena Grounds]

[Main Story Quest: Pride over humility!]

[Description: The Prince's pride has been wounded. Humiliate him further by accepting his challenge... and either defeat him in a sparring match or draw.]

[Rewards: 5,000 BP, 1000 QP, Strength: 10.00+, HP: 2.50+, Speed: 1.00+, Stamina: 2.50+]

[Special Condition: These rewards cannot be enhanced.]

My eyes narrowed at the rewards. This was extremely generous, even without enhancements.

And I knew Alessandro wasn't just some puffed-up bully.

He was on par with Jan, the supposed hero. This carried more weight than simple revenge.

But the price to pay was still great. He was no pushover, even without his social status. Alessandro is one of the stronger characters towards the end of the story.

This wasn't a decision to take lightly. If I played my cards right, I could possibly win... but the risks were just as high.

But earlier it made me think about what Vanessa had done... She'd stepped in, trying to protect me – a complete stranger.

Stepping forward, I squared off with Alessandro, our faces inches apart.

"Your Highness," I said, my voice calm despite the surge of adrenaline, "I believe you misunderstand. I have no interest in fighting you."

"'oh..."'

The crowd let out a disappointed murmur.

"Then walk away, gutter rat," Alessandro sneered, though his voice held a tremor of uncertainty.

"Admit defeat and let the adults handle –"

"Let's have a spar," I interrupted, my voice sharp. "One on one. No fancy techniques, no mana. Just a way to settle this... like men."

Alessandro's eyes widened, then he let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Spar? You?"

He gestured dismissively towards my unassuming figure.

"I'm the rank one student in our grade, challenged by a nameless nobody? This is getting rich!"

Before I could reply, Vanessa stepped between us. "Stop this," she commanded, her voice surprisingly strong.

"This isn't solving anything. Your Highness, you should be ashamed – picking on someone who clearly doesn't want trouble."

She turned to me, a touch of pleading in her eyes.

"And you... don't rise to the bait. This isn't worth it."

The crowd buzzed with excitement. "Whoa, did she just tell off the Prince?" a girl whispered excitedly.

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"Bold move, but kinda stupid..." a guy scoffed. "That guy's toast."

"Nah, maybe he's got something hidden up his sleeve," another countered, a glint in his eye.

pen_spark

Alessandro tilted his head, a sneer slowly replacing his amusement.

"Picking on him?" He scoffed.

"Please. This... insect... challenged me." He jabbed a finger towards me.

"Don't you play the innocent, gutter rat. Or do you need your new champion to fight your battles?"

I held Vanessa's gaze for a moment. Something flickered in her eyes – confusion, a hint of doubt.

A sigh escaped me. "He's right," I said, my voice flat. "I challenged him. Let's just... get this over with."

Vanessa blinked, her brows knitting together. She took a half-step back, the distance between us feeling wider than before. It was clear she didn't understand my sudden shift.

Alessandro turned towards the instructor, a cruel grin stretching his lips. "Well, Professor? Clear the stage. It's me and this nobody now."

The instructor hesitated, then bowed stiffly. Turning back towards the stage, he gestured at the current occupants.

"This demonstration is over. Clear the area, please."

The students, startled but obedient, quickly shuffled off.

Alessandro strode confidently towards the stage.

I followed, my footsteps feeling strangely heavy.

Suddenly, Vanessa's hand caught my wrist.

"I'm not sure why you're doing this," she said, her voice low and urgent, "but please... reconsider."

A knot twisted in my stomach.

A part of me wished I could just walk away, and let the insult slide.

But this was something I had to do... it was a quest.

"I can't," I said. My voice was quiet but firm. "Not after… everything."

"Everything?" Vanessa's brow furrowed, concern replacing her urgency.

"I can't simply let him call me that," I continued, my gaze meeting hers. "Not without doing something about it."

Vanessa's lips parted as if to speak, then she pressed them together.

A flicker of understanding crossed her eyes, quickly replaced by worry. "Be careful," she breathed. "You won't be able to beat him."

A slight nod was my only response.

Gently disengaging from her grip, I turned and strode towards the stage. My resolve was firm, but I couldn't shake the feeling…

Reaching the steps, I paused for a moment, taking in the expectant faces staring back at me.

With a deep breath, I reached for my black coat. Slowly, deliberately, I shrugged out of it, draping it over the back of the empty chair next to me.

The simple action felt symbolic, a shedding of unnecessary burdens before the fight.

Across the stage, Alessandro smirked.

"Finally decided to grace us with your presence, gutter rat?" His voice boomed, dripping with disdain.

The crowd roared, a mixture of cheers and jeers filling the air.

I ignored them, keeping my gaze fixed on the Prince.

"There's no need for insults," I said, my voice calm but laced with a steely edge.

"Let's just get this over with."

The air crackled with tension.

Alessandro's smirk faltered for a brief moment, replaced by a flicker of surprise.

Perhaps he hadn't expected such a composed response from someone he considered beneath him.

But the surprise was nothing short of expected.

Well, since... I'm probably better than him in hand to hand after all.

He dropped into a loose fighting stance, his arrogance radiating outwards. "As you wish," he sneered.

***

Rel's muscles, previously coiled with tension, now thrummed with a strange mixture of focus and adrenaline.

Across the stage, Alessandro crouched in a loose boxer's stance, his eyes gleaming with cruelty.

The honour's class instructor, face impassive, stood between them.

"Remember," his voice boomed, "No techniques, no mana. This is about raw skill. Begin!"

[Special Passive: Sixth Sense [Grade 9] Has Been Activated!]

Before the echo of his word faded, Alessandro lunged.

Rel was already moving. The crowd gasped as the Prince's wild haymaker whiffed past Rel's cheek.

He sidestepped, pivoting as Alessandro's momentum carried him forward.

BANG!

An open palm slammed into the Prince's ribs, a sharp retort echoing across the space.

Alessandro's surprise mirrored the shock rippling through the onlookers.

They expected a quick and humiliating defeat, not this.

A growl rumbled in his throat as he wheeled towards Rel, his stance tightening.

"Playing hard to get, gutter rat?" he snarled, launching a flurry of punches.

Each strike was fast but predictable. Rel dodged, weaved, and slipped past the fists.

BANG!

Once, twice…then, on the third weave, his counterattack found its mark – a quick jab snapping Alessandro's head back. A flicker of doubt crossed the Prince's face.

Alessandro needed to change his approach. He fainted, a low kick aimed at Rel's legs.

As Rel shifted his weight to evade, the Prince's true purpose revealed itself – a brutal elbow smashed downwards towards his shoulder.

"...!"

Rel's reflexes were honed. With a lightning-fast twist, he deflected the blow with his forearm, the impact jarring but bearable.

Landing in a crouch, he saw Alessandro's eyes widen in surprise.

The crowd was a deafening roar now, split between those cheering Rel's defiance and those hungry for his blood.

The surprise on Alessandro's face was a flicker, replaced by a snarl.

His earlier arrogance had boiled away, leaving behind a cold, calculating rage.

He abandoned his reckless flurries, every strike now deliberate, a piston-like jab aimed at Rel's chest.

But Rel was no longer on the back foot.

Something within him responded to the change in his opponent, his instincts were getting even better.

His body flowed each parry less a conscious defence and more a practised dance.

He moved just a hair faster than Alessandro, his punches – short, brutal jabs – slicing through the air a split second before the Prince could fully react.

Frustration tightened Alessandro's jaw, each failed strike fueling his rage.

Rel saw his opening. Alessandro, overextending on a lunge, left his right side unguarded for a fraction of a second.

His fist whipped forward, and a contained explosion of black energy erupted from his fist.

[Critical Hit!]

The crack of bone-on bone echoed as it connected flush with Alessandro's jaw.

The Prince's head whipped to the side, shock momentarily overriding the pain.

His legs wobbled, a sapling about to snap... but then, with a snarl, he regained his footing.

________

Authors Notes:

-Alessandro isn't the type to remember names unless you're someone important to him.

- The difference in point difference for speed stats is still a huge leap regardless of the point differential.