Gon's Harem System
Chapter 69: Buhrama vs Yvonne

Chapter 69: Buhrama vs Yvonne

The next match was Buhrama versus Yvonne.

Buhrama stood on his side of the arena, a small but wiry figure.

His stature was short—almost comically so—but his presence was anything but.

His most striking feature was the bright lemon-colored Mohawk that spiked from his head, the tips of his hair crackling with an electric energy.

The sword in his hand looked almost too large for him, but his grip was firm, and his confidence unshakable.

Buhrama wasn’t just a skilled swordsman—he had the power to generate lightning with his hands.

Across from him stood Yvonne, tall and slim, her movements as fluid as water.

Her dark hair was cut in a sharp bob, the strands framing her face in stark contrast to the intensity in her eyes.

She wielded two swords with a grace that suggested years of practice, her stance calm, detached even, as though she were already disinterested in the outcome.

She didn’t need to say much—her actions spoke louder than any words could.

The crowd fell silent as the two warriors sized each other up.

Buhrama’s eyes flickered with anticipation, while Yvonne’s gaze was cold, calculating.

With a sudden burst of energy, Buhrama moved first, his body a blur of speed.

He raised his sword and swung it down toward Yvonne, but in a flash, she was gone—her feet light as a feather, her body already moving to the side.

Yvonne’s two blades came alive as they cut through the air in perfect synchronicity, aimed directly at Buhrama’s exposed side.

But Buhrama wasn’t caught off guard.

With a sharp twist of his wrist, his sword blocked both of Yvonne’s strikes in a flurry of sparks.

His other hand shot out, and with a violent crack, blue arcs of lightning erupted from his palm, sending a pulse of electric energy racing toward Yvonne.

She barely flinched.

Yvonne had already rolled away, her bobbed hair falling perfectly into place as she sprang back to her feet.

Her focus never wavered. "You’re predictable," she said, her voice flat, distant. "You rely too much on your tricks."

Buhrama grinned, the electric crackle of energy still dancing along his Mohawk. "You haven’t seen anything yet."

With a shout, he swung his sword again, channeling more power into the blade.

As the sword descended, a bolt of lightning shot from his palm, crackling through the air and arcing toward Yvonne.

But once again, Yvonne was already gone. She darted to the side, her movements so fluid they seemed effortless.

Her blades came down in tandem, aiming for Buhrama’s back.

He barely managed to spin around in time to block the strikes with his sword, sparks flying as metal clashed against metal.

Yvonne’s blades glinted in the fading light, and she pressed her attack, her movements almost robotic in their precision.

The clash of steel rang out as she kept Buhrama on the defensive.

She was fast—too fast for him to keep up with, and each of her strikes seemed to cut closer to his skin.

Buhrama’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second. He had underestimated her speed.

"You’re fast," he admitted, wiping the blood from a shallow cut on his cheek. "But you’re going to need more than that."

Yvonne didn’t respond. She never did.

She was always two steps ahead in her mind, calculating the next move, the next advantage.

She adjusted her stance, twirling her blades with a quiet elegance that made it seem effortless.

Buhrama wasn’t one to back down, though.

He clenched his fists, focusing all his energy into his core.

The air around him grew charged, the crackling of lightning filling the space between them as the electricity began to surge through his body.

His eyes glowed with an electric fire as he raised his sword high, the power within him pulsing, ready to explode.

"You’ve had your fun," he said, his voice sharp with the energy building inside him. "Now let’s see what happens when I go all out!"

In a sudden explosion of movement, Buhrama charged, his sword moving so fast it seemed to leave an afterimage in the air.

His other hand shot out, lightning arcing from his fingertips, crackling toward Yvonne in a flurry of blue energy.

Yvonne’s eyes narrowed.

She met his charge with the calm certainty of a woman who had seen it all before.

Her swords danced in the air, a blur of precision and skill, deflecting each strike with ease.

The lightning crackled against her blades, but she barely flinched, using the momentum to redirect Buhrama’s attack.

With a quick, fluid motion, Yvonne spun, one blade slicing through the air to slash at Buhrama’s side.

His lightning-charged sword barely blocked the attack in time, but the force of her strike sent him stumbling back.

"Still relying on the tricks," she remarked, almost bored, her voice detached as ever.

Buhrama growled in frustration, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. "You’ll see, Yvonne. You’ll see exactly what happens when I let loose."

This time, he didn’t just swing his sword. Buhrama thrust his palm forward, sending a torrent of lightning toward Yvonne.

The energy exploded from his hand, crackling through the air with a deafening roar.

The sheer intensity of the surge made the ground beneath them tremble.

But once again, Yvonne was already moving, darting to the side in the blink of an eye.

She was good—so good—but Buhrama’s lightning wasn’t just a single strike. It was a barrage.

With a roar of effort, he unleashed wave after wave of electric bolts, each one homing in on Yvonne, forcing her to dance, to weave, to avoid the deadly arcs of energy.

But she couldn’t keep up forever.

One bolt of lightning caught her off guard.

She managed to deflect most of it with one of her swords, but the second strike clipped her shoulder, sending her spinning.

For the first time, Yvonne stumbled.

Buhrama grinned, seizing the opportunity.

He dashed forward, his sword a blur of motion.

He swung in a wide arc, his blade crackling with lightning as it slashed toward Yvonne’s exposed side.

Yvonne barely managed to raise her second sword in time to block the attack, but the force of the blow knocked the sword from her grip.

She stumbled back, her footing faltering for a moment.

That was all Buhrama needed.

In a flash, he moved in, his sword crashing down toward her.

The electric energy surged from his body, and with one final, decisive strike, his blade hit its mark.

Yvonne crumpled to the ground, the electricity flickering around her body as the fight left her.

She had given everything, but Buhrama’s relentless power had overwhelmed her.

Breathing heavily, Buhrama stood above her, his sword still crackling with the remnants of his lightning.

The crowd erupted in cheers as he wiped the sweat from his brow.