Gon's Harem System
Chapter 117: Milo vs sera

Chapter 117: Milo vs sera

Gon shurgged as he watched her walk out of the courtyard and went to stand at a corner, the next match was about to start

The open courtyard of the arena lay sprawled beneath a sky heavy with brooding gray clouds, the late afternoon sun struggling to pierce through the overcast veil

A restless wind whipped across the sandy expanse, tugging at the crimson banners strung between weathered stone pillars and stirring up small eddies of dust that twirled like fleeting spirits

The stands encircling the arena were packed to capacity, the spectators’ voices rising in a tumultuous roar that ebbed and flowed like a tempest, their excitement a palpable force that vibrated through the air

The final round of the tournament had drawn the entire duchy, their cheers and shouts weaving a chaotic tapestry that seemed to shake the ground beneath the combatants’ boots

Sera stood at the heart of the sandy arena, her bare feet sinking slightly into the churned dirt, her stance low and taut like a coiled viper ready to strike

Her pink hair, pulled back into a tight braid that trailed down her spine, shimmered faintly in the muted light, a vibrant splash of color against the drab surroundings

Her large forehead gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat from her earlier warm-up, a testament to the focus she’d honed before stepping into the ring

She wore a sleeveless violet tunic that hugged her lithe frame, leaving her arms free to execute the precise, punishing strikes of her martial arts

Her dark eyes locked onto Milo with an intensity that missed nothing, not the subtle grip on his sword, not the faint shift of his weight, not the flicker of confidence in his gaze

Her fingers flexed at her sides, knuckles scarred from years of training, as she prepared to dismantle him by targeting his body’s weak points

Milo stood across from her, his posture relaxed yet poised, the tip of his slender sword resting lightly in the sand as he awaited the match’s start

His dark hair was swept back, a few strands clinging to his forehead where the wind had teased them free, and his stormy gray eyes held a steady, unshakable confidence, not the brash arrogance of a novice, but the quiet assurance of a swordsman who trusted his skill implicitly

He was clad in a scuffed leather jerkin over a muted blue tunic, the armor worn but functional, granting him the agility his speed demanded

His sword, a finely crafted blade with a slight curve, glinted faintly in the dim light, its hilt wrapped in weathered leather that molded to his grip like a second skin

He met Sera’s stare with a small, respectful nod, acknowledging her as a worthy foe, though a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth, a sign of the quiet thrill he felt facing her

The announcer’s voice thundered across the courtyard, amplified by a minor enchantment that carried it over the crowd’s roar. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he bellowed, his tone dripping with theatrical flair as he raised his arms to the stands. "The second match of the final round begins now! Sera versus Milo!"

The crowd exploded in response, their cheers a tidal wave of sound that crashed against the stone pillars, sending a flock of pigeons scattering from the rafters above

The air crackled with anticipation, the spectators leaning forward in their seats, eager to witness the clash between Sera’s relentless precision and Milo’s swift swordsmanship

Sera didn’t flinch as the announcer signaled the start, her focus narrowing to a pinpoint as she surged forward, her body a blur of motion that caught the crowd’s breath

Her bare feet slapped against the sand, kicking up small clouds of dust as she closed the distance, launching a low strike at Milo’s knee, a vulnerable joint she knew could hobble his mobility if she connected

Her fingers curled into a rigid claw, knuckles aimed to dig into the cartilage with bruising force, a technique perfected through years of targeting the body’s weak spots

Milo reacted with lightning reflexes, his sword snapping up in a fluid arc as he pivoted aside, narrowly dodging the blow

The crowd gasped as Sera’s hand grazed his shin, the strike skimming off target, but she pressed her advantage, spinning into a sweeping kick aimed at his opposite ankle

Milo leapt back, his movements light and agile, the tip of his sword dipping toward her as a caution rather than a committed strike. "Fast," he said, his voice carrying just enough to reach her over the crowd’s din, a hint of respect lacing his tone. "But I’m not that easy to catch."

Sera’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, her dark eyes glinting with resolve as she straightened, circling him with the grace of a predator. "We’ll see," she replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline surging through her

She lunged again, feinting high with a jab toward his throat before dropping low to aim a palm strike at the nerve cluster above his knee

Milo parried the feint with a flick of his blade, the steel whistling through the air as he sidestepped her true attack, countering with a quick slash at her shoulder, a shallow cut meant to push her back rather than wound deeply

Sera twisted away, the blade slicing through empty air where she’d stood a heartbeat before, and rolled forward, coming up behind him with a sweeping kick to the backs of his knees

Milo stumbled, the sudden aggression throwing him off balance, but he recovered swiftly, spinning to face her with his sword raised in a defensive arc

The crowd roared their approval, the sound a relentless undercurrent as the two clashed again and again, neither gaining a decisive edge

Sera’s strikes were a storm of calculated blows, her fists and feet targeting Milo’s joints and pressure points with brutal efficiency, his elbows, wrists, the base of his spine, each hit designed to weaken his stance, to slow him just enough for a crippling strike

Milo, however, was a phantom, his speed and skill keeping him elusive, his sword flashing in quick, controlled arcs that forced Sera to split her focus between offense and evasion