Lewd System: Every Scream and Moan is EXP

Chapter 259: Chapter 259 : She is on the verge of breaking

Astrid’s eyes were still on Jax.

He stood at the edge of the arena with his arms folded, watching the fight like it was the most boring spectacle he had ever been forced to attend.

No sign of concern on his face. No gesture of encouragement. No acknowledgment that the person bleeding in the arena was his student.

Just arms folded and eyes half-interested, as if the outcome had already been decided in his head and the rest was just a waste of his time.

And all of it pissed Astrid off beyond what she thought was possible. She was clenching her fists so hard the nails dug into her palms. Curses aimed at that unbothered bastard piling behind her teeth ready to be unleashed.

But her opponent interrupted.

”Lady Aleris, I would rather not injure you further.” His voice carried genuine respect. Not mockery. Not arrogance. ”You have already proven yourself by coming this far. But you know as well as I do that we are outmatched here. I would advise you to surrender.”

Astrid tore her gaze from Jax and scanned the boy standing before her. He held a single sword with effortless control.

Around him lay the wreckage of everything she had thrown at him. Spears, blades, hammers, axes, all created through her mana creation ability, all either deflected, shattered, or destroyed by his sword before they could reach him. The remnants were already fading into mana particles.

Something inside her snapped. Not because of his words. Because the more she looked at him, the more her perspective about him twisted into something personal.

He resembled Jax.

Not in appearance. In behavior. In presence. In the way he treated this fight like it was beneath him.

His technique was different though. He used one of the most powerful and difficult sword styles in existence, Mana Sight.

A technique where the user closes their eyes entirely to fight. In this state, their senses abandon the physical world and tap directly into the mana that flows through everything.

The user sees nothing but mana. And mana is a fundamental aspect of all existence. That alone is more than enough.

Through Mana Sight, he could judge and perceive incoming attacks before they arrived, giving him mere seconds to act and punish either the attack itself or the attacker using his speed. Any projectile she created, like the spears, he could see the exact trajectory the moment her mana shaped them.

Any magical attack was composed of mana at its core, and his understanding of mana fundamentals allowed him to deconstruct and counter them using knowledge alone.

Even physical attacks were useless. Every living body had mana flowing through it. His technique fed him information about their movement, the way muscles contracted, where weight shifted, how a body prepared to strike.

The air itself was his ally, carrying mana signatures like fingerprints.

It gave him the smallest window of time. And that window was always enough.

But despite this difference in technique, he was Jax. Annoying. Refusing to go down. Taking the fight as if it was a stroll in the garden.

Thinking so highly of himself that the air around him felt heavy with his confidence. And on top of that, the way he moved, the speed of his reactions, the powerful strokes of his sword, it somehow made him a mirror image of the man standing at the edge of the arena.

Astrid was grinding her teeth when he spoke again. ”Your resolve is admirable, but continuing will only harm y—”

”Keep your damn mouth shut.”

The arena went silent around them.

After a moment of grinding silence she added through her teeth. ”I can’t take it anymore. Your face annoys me. Your whole existence standing in front of me annoys me.”

She raised her hand and mana gathered in her palm, solidifying into a sword of her own making. Jagged. Imperfect. Forged from rage rather than technique.

She charged at him from a distance. Reckless. Burning.

”So get the hell out of my sight this instant!”

The boy was shocked. Not by the attack, he could handle that in his sleep. By the raw hatred in her words. He hadn’t done a single thing to deserve them and he couldn’t even question her about it right now.

Not with that level of fury pouring off her body. Any attempt at conversation would only bring more curses and more reckless swings.

So he sighed. Closed his eyes. Took a deep breath and slipped into Mana Sight.

Through his enhanced perception, Astrid’s charge was transparent. She was rushing at him with all the finesse of an amateur who believed that swinging harder equaled fighting better.

The same reckless approach he had dealt with from dozens of students before. People who thought brute force was a substitute for skill.

He prepared himself casually. Let her come. Let her make the mistake that would end this.

And she did.

Her structure as she got close was textbook amateur. Her footwork was sloppy. As she raised her sword and prepared for what she clearly thought was the final blow, the boy could read every detail.

She was aiming for his left shoulder. Full swing from the left side. Sword gripped in her left hand with every ounce of angry strength she had.

He didn’t even need Mana Sight for something this transparent.

With the minimum force required, he struck the grip of her sword before she could generate enough momentum to swing. The impact rattled her fingers and loosened her hold.

Then he struck the flat of her blade with a precise hit that sent a jolt of vibration through the steel and directly into her wrist.

The pain was instant. Her grip collapsed. The sword fell from her hand and clattered against the arena floor.

But before he could position his blade at her throat to force the surrender, his Mana Sight caught something unexpected.

An incoming punch. From her right hand. Fast. Committed. Aimed right at his jaw.

’Interesting.’ The thought formed in a fraction of a second. ’So the sword play was a bait all along. She faked the left-handed swordsmanship convincingly to set up this punch. Not bad.’

He didn’t panic. He could dodge this without effort. He tilted his sword, angling the flat of the blade to slap her fist away before bringing the edge to her neck and ending this fight cleanly.

But before his sword could complete the motion, it met resistance.

Astrid had grabbed his blade. Her bare hand wrapped around the sharpened steel. The edge cut deep into her palm. Blood ran down the metal and dripped from the crossguard.

Her fingers tightened despite the pain. Despite the steel biting deeper with every ounce of pressure she applied.

She refused to let go.

The boy was stunned. His sword was trapped in a grip that chose pain over defeat.

And in that frozen moment, the punch connected.

The first hit wasn’t enough to drop him. It cracked against his jaw and rattled his senses. Blurred the edges of his Mana Sight.

The second came before the blur cleared.

On the third, his grip on the sword failed entirely. The weapon transferred to Astrid’s bleeding hand. Claimed like a trophy ripped from an enemy’s corpse.

The fourth put him on the ground.

But she wasn’t done.

Astrid mounted him. Locked both his arms beneath her legs. Pinned him flat against the arena floor. And started swinging.

Punch after punch. Directly into his face. Each one landing before the previous one’s pain could fully register. Not giving him a single breath to form the word surrender.

And each hit came with words.

”Why—” CRACK ”—aren’t you—” CRACK ”—saying anything now—” CRACK ”—huh?!”

His head whipped sideways. Blood sprayed from his lip.

”Where’s—” CRACK ”—that loudmouth?!” CRACK ”Where’s—” CRACK

”—that arrogance—” CRACK ”—of yours?!”
His nose split open. Red painted across her knuckles.

”Oh dear—” CRACK ”—look at your—” CRACK ”—face now!” CRACK ”It really—” CRACK ”—suits you!” CRACK ”But let me—” CRACK ”—add a bit—” CRACK ”—more to it!”

”Please, let him go, Lady Aleris.”

She glanced sideways with her fist still raised. Two faculty members stood beside her. They had been standing there for roughly half a minute. The judges had already called the fight. It was officially over.

But they didn’t move to stop her. She was the daughter of someone who they all know very well.

Intervening physically would bought disaster in their lives. So they stood there. Asking politely. While a boy’s face was being rearranged.

It continued for several more minutes. Punch after punch. Until Astrid couldn’t feel her hands anymore. The skin across her knuckles had ripped open completely. Raw flesh exposed beneath torn tissue.

The deep cut on her left palm from grabbing the sword was burning so badly that her fingers had started going numb. Itching so intensely she wanted to tear her own hand off.

She stopped. Stood up. Looked down at the boy’s swollen, bloodied face. And delivered one final kick to his jaw before turning and walking away.

Medical staff flooded her path immediately. Surrounding her with potions, bandages, and urgent voices insisting that she withdraw from the tournament.

The rules prohibited advanced healing magic during the event. They could only offer standard recovery potion, which would barely make a dent in injuries this severe.

She didn’t listen. Snatched the healing potion and mana potion from their hands. Downed both without slowing her stride.

”Don’t worsen my mood. Leave this instant.”

They scattered like mice who had just realized the cat wasn’t in a playful mood.

Astrid stood alone. Blood drying on her destroyed hands. Pain in every joint. An emptiness in her chest that no amount of potions or victories could fill.

Then a voice rang through her ears. Clear. Familiar. Cutting through every other sound in the arena.

”What’s with this attitude of yours? You think you won this fight?”

She froze.

Every muscle in her body locked. Her breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat.

She turned slowly.

And there it was. The voice she had been wanting to hear all day. And the same one she wished would never reach her ears ever again.