- Oliver -

  As Oliver descended slowly from the arena, the weight of the unconscious Ranger heavy on his arms, his eyes remained fixed on the two figures stepping up to face General Stewart. Damian showed no hint of emotion as he gnced briefly in Oliver's direction. Kyle, however, fshed a challenging grin—a silent taunt that ignited a flicker of irritation within Oliver.

  ‘Asshole,’ Oliver thought tersely, watching Kyle's confident stride onto the ptform.

  Kyle began circling to the right, moving clockwise, while Damian mirrored him to the left. It was clear they intended to split the General's attention—a cssic pincer strategy.

  ‘The General must be expecting a tactic like this,’ Oliver mused as he carefully id the unconscious Ranger on a nearby bench. ‘It's one of the most basic maneuvers.’

  Without their Ranger Armors, neither Kyle nor Damian had access to their Ranger Weapons. Oliver recalled that Kyle had a mace—a brute-force weapon—while Damian used a whip, requiring finesse and precision.

  ‘It would be tough for them to coordinate effectively with such different fighting styles,’ Oliver assessed, contempting their chances.

  In the arena, General Stewart remained calmly focused on Damian, deliberately offering Kyle what appeared to be an opening. Kyle didn't wait for any formal signal. Seizing the perceived advantage, he aggressively unched himself at the General.

  A low groan pulled Oliver's attention away from the impending csh. Beside him, Darius—the Ranger from the Sixth Division—was beginning to stir. His eyelids fluttered open, confusion clouding his gaze.

  "I—I bcked out?" Darius mumbled, looking up at Oliver.

  "Yeah," Oliver replied, offering a sympathetic half-smile. "The General got you with a kick."

  "Dammit," Darius muttered, rubbing his jaw. "Thought I'd st longer than that."

  A sharp cry erupted from the arena, snapping Oliver's focus back to the fight. He turned just in time to see Kyle sprawled on his backside near the edge of the ptform, a look of stunned disbelief on his face. Damian was doubled over in the center of the arena, clutching his stomach as though he might vomit.

  ‘The General makes them look so weak,’ Oliver thought, a mix of awe and apprehension threading through his mind. ‘If I hadn't fought Kyle myself before, I'd think he was just a fresh recruit.’

  Both Rangers struggled to regain their footing, moving with visible effort. General Stewart stood motionless at the heart of the arena; his posture rexed yet exuded an undeniable aura of dominance.

  "Come on! Try again!" Stewart's voice rang out firmly.

  Kyle pushed himself up from the ground, eyes bzing with fury. His jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles in his face stood out like cords. He began to circle General Stewart once more, each step deliberate, predatory. Oliver watched from the sidelines, surprise flickering across his face as he noticed something unusual happening to Kyle.

  Slowly, a deep, earthy brown color spread over Kyle's arms, starting from his fingertips and creeping upward toward his shoulders. It was as if some kind of substance was enveloping his limbs, hardening them. The transformation gave his arms a rough, stone-like appearance.

  ‘Boon? Is that his Boon? Is that where he gets all that strength?’ Questions raced through Oliver's mind as he observed the unfolding confrontation.

  This time, Damian took the initiative. With a burst of speed, he sprinted toward the General. Just before reaching him, Damian dropped low, sliding across the floor in an attempt to sweep Stewart's legs out from under him. Simultaneously, Kyle seized the opportunity. Using the opening Damian created, he darted forward, his hardened arm swinging in a wide arc aimed at the General's temple—a powerful cross punch intended to end the bout.

  "It won't work," came a calm voice beside Oliver. He turned to see Darius standing nearby, his arms crossed and eyes focused on the fight.

  "Why not?" Oliver asked, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

  "He’s using [Energy Domain]," Darius expined without taking his eyes off the combatants.

  "Energy Domain?" Oliver echoed, trying to process the information. Before he could ask more, the action in the arena escated.

  Stewart moved with uncanny agility. As Damian's sweeping kick neared, the General leaped effortlessly into the air, avoiding the attack entirely. Mid-leap, he twisted, bringing his elbow down sharply. Kyle, caught off guard by the sudden counter, couldn't react in time. Stewart's elbow connected with precision against Kyle's forehead, sending him stumbling backward. A thin line of blood appeared where the skin had split.

  Damian, still recovering from his failed attack, stared in disbelief. Their coordinated assault had been dismantled in a matter of seconds.

  "The General is projecting his Energy outward to map his surroundings," Darius continued. "To him, there are no blind spots."

  Oliver nodded slowly, understanding dawning on him. "So that's how he anticipates their moves," he murmured. The concept was advanced—extending one's Energy to create a sensory field, detecting movements in all directions.

  ‘It would require an insane control over one's Energy,’ Oliver thought, contempting the sheer skill involved. ‘To sense every deviation, every shift around you…’

  An idea sparked in his mind. ‘If I could observe the movement of Energy, maybe I could learn this technique using the [Left Eye of Learning].’

  "Come on, Red Ranger. I expect more from you," General Stewart taunted, his voice cutting through the charged air of the training arena.

  ‘Calm down... calm down…’ A realization crystallized in Oliver's mind. ‘Kyle is the Bck Ranger. And Damian is... the Red Ranger? Didn't he have an affinity for the Blue Ranger designation?’ He pondered the unexpected development, a furrow forming on his brow. Another more pressing question surfaced. ‘What did they do to earn enough recognition to be here?’

  As the sparring match continued, Oliver noticed that Damian wasn't using his Boon. ‘Is he deliberately avoiding its use? Maybe If he uses it during the mission, they will trace him back to the Nemo family?’

  The fight intensified. Kyle and Damian attempted to synchronize their attacks, their movements a coordinated effort to corner the General. They pressed forward, forcing Stewart to yield ground toward the arena's edge. Yet, the more aggressively they attacked, the worse their situation became. Both were visibly fatigued, their breathing bored and heavy.

  "This is your biggest fw—all you from the Five Divisions," Stewart remarked, his tone ced with scorn. "You're excessively dependent on your Crystals. Without them, you're lost."

  ‘Damn,’ Oliver thought, feeling the sting of the critique directed not just at the others but at himself as well. He couldn't deny that his Ranger Armors had been the cornerstone of his growth, a crutch he leaned on heavily.

  "Alright, let's finish this," Stewart decred as Kyle and Damian struggled to catch their breath. He lowered his stance, bending his knees slightly. In a blur of motion, he unched a punch toward each of the Rangers.

  | [Combat Technique Acquired: Imperial Guard Style]

  | Progress: 0.03%

  The instant his fists connected, a palpable shockwave emanated from the point of impact. Both Kyle and Damian were propelled backward, crashing onto the ground well beyond the bounds of the arena. Oliver's eyes widened in astonishment. ‘How did I just learn a fragment of that technique?’ Despite witnessing it firsthand, he couldn't yet comprehend how to replicate it.

  ‘Was it something about channeling Energy?’ he wondered, but the specifics eluded him.

  He watched as Kyle and Damian struggled to rise, wincing with each movement. ‘He went easier on them—Darius took a full-force kick to the head. One day, it'll be my turn to make them go through this.’

  "Alright then," Stewart's voice sliced through Oliver's thoughts. "Blue, Yellow, and Pink Rangers—your turn." He gestured for the three to step into the arena.

  ‘He wants to take on three of us at once?’ Oliver felt a surge of irritation mixed with determination. ‘Seems like I'm being underestimated.’ But he wasn't alone in that feeling; he could see the resolve etched on the faces of the two young women who moved to join him.

  "Come on, now. Will three of you be enough to keep me entertained?" General Stewart taunted, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes gleamed with challenge as he stood confidently at the center of the training arena, the overhead lights casting sharp shadows across the metallic floor.

  Oliver clenched his teeth tightly. ‘Oh, I'll make sure you're entertained,’ he thought, his determination solidifying like steel within him.

  Following a strategy simir to what Kyle and Damian had attempted earlier, Oliver separated himself from the two female Rangers moving to fnk the General and search for any blind spots. The goal was to divide Stewart's attention, making it more difficult for him to anticipate their moves.

  Oliver kept a vigint eye on his teammates, waiting for the subtle signals that they were ready to strike. He noticed the slight nod, the tension in their stances tightening. In unison, the two unched themselves at the General, executing high kicks intended to break through his guard.

  But Stewart was faster. Not only did he deftly defend against their synchronized attacks, but he also countered with swift precision. With minimal movement yet devastating effect, he delivered a single, controlled punch to each Ranger. The blows nded with such force that the girls were sent hurtling backward, skidding across the arena floor until they came to rest at its edge.

  As the General turned his attention to Oliver, a third strike was already coming. Instinct took over. Recalling the technique he'd witnessed from the Red Ork—Oliver shifted his stance. Using the outer edge of his elbow, he deflected Stewart's incoming punch to the side. The unexpected maneuver allowed him to close the distance swiftly.

  Seizing the moment, Oliver drove forward and nded a solid punch directly into Stewart's abdomen. The impact reverberated up his arm, and for a fraction of a second, time seemed to slow.

  "Interesting," Stewart remarked, his voice devoid of the earlier sarcasm. His gaze locked onto Oliver with newfound intensity. "It seems we have someone who truly wants to entertain me."

  Before Oliver could utter a response or brace himself, the General vanished from his line of sight. It was as if he had dissolved into thin air. A sharp instinct prompted Oliver to gnce upward. In the periphery of his vision, he caught the blur of movement—a descending kick aimed straight at him from above.

  There was no time to react. The realization hit him that he didn't have the speed to raise a defense or evade. The sole of Stewart's boot connected with calcuted precision.

  Suddenly, everything went bck.

  GCLopes