The Martial Unity

James grabbed his helmet with both hands, dropping to his knees in despair. At a time like this, Leonel could only sigh.

However, under the silence of the arena, a resounding boom of two clashing bodies sounded.

Leonel grimaced, feeling his already fractured ribs break cleanly as his vision was filled with sights of the moon above.

It was then a loud whistle blew through the silence.

"Unnecessary roughness, roughing the passer, number 21. Half the distance to the goal, still first down."

Leonel landed heavily on the ground, grasping at his chest with his eyes squinting in pain.

The rookie stood over him in shock. At first, he had let his frustration get the best of him. He had never for a moment thought that James would drop such an easy layup of a pass, so he unleashed everything he had on Leonel, knowing they would lose the game. Never did he think that his actions would give the Royal Blues another chance with zero seconds on the clock.

The medics rushed onto the field. Despite the Royal Blues gaining new life, the stadium still remained silent. The sight of Leonel writhing in pain made many send furious gazes toward the rookie and James.

"Bennett, get the hell off the field! Rook, you're in."

Coach Owen coldly benched his Five-Star prospect. He didn't know what was wrong with James today, but he was clearly in his own head too much. It was impossible to use him for this final play.

The medics quickly lifted Leonel's jersey, undoing the bandage wraps from the first half to reveal ghastly purple and green bruises. It was simply impossible for a bruise to spread so quickly. The only explanation was that Leonel had suffered this injury very early on in the game.

"Don't." Leonel grabbed the hand of the middle-aged male medic who tried to take his pads off. "There's just one play left, I got it."

Coach Owen who had rushed onto the field frowned deeply, his arms crossed over his well-built chest and his mustache billowing.

The team stood around Leonel's slowly rising figure, solemn expressions on their faces. They knew that everyone made mistakes, but at the moment, they were having a really hard time forgiving James.

"What are you all pouting for? An injury timeout doesn't last forever, let's do this. Line up!"

Seeing Leonel's resolute attitude, the medics and Coach Owen had no choice but to jog off the field under the silence of the crowd. In those moments, the heavy breathing of the players who stood on their last legs was all that remained hanging in the air.

Leonel's fiery gaze lit a fire under them all, filling them with a strength they didn't know they had.

On the sidelines, Conrad looked on with a gloomy expression. Victory had been in his grasp, yet it slipped away, just like that.

Leonel slapped his hands together, standing behind his offensive line as though he wasn't injured at all.

"Blue 80. BLUE 80. Down set, HUT!"

**

light smile to play his handsome features. Who knew how they did it, but the guys managed to get their hands on a few dozen champaign bottles. Their wrist watches were probably beeping away with talks

ignore his pain if need be as he did on the final game winning play, it was probably best he didn't move too actively, lest

and groaning, cap. You're not

of Leonel's O-lineman, Three-Star Center Milan Inga, slapped his shoulder without regard for his grimace. He swung back a flask of vodka, his massive fat covered body somehow appearing ripped of muscle at the same

promised I'd come. No

guys laughed, hopping in the showers one after

took off his sweaty pads and undergarments, taking his time. He planned on hopping into the showers last. Although he was pretty certain that Aina wouldn't come, he still had to put his best foot forward just in case. Luckily, he had already prepared

probably have to have one of the medics re-bandage this for me.' Leonel thought to

sudden plop by his side, Leonel turned from his locker to see his coach half dozing off, a strong

"Coach, you're gonna get yourself fired going around

though mockingly toasting the very people he insulted. Leonel almost didn't

how embarrassing. You get

gone after this time anyway, off to the bright lights of the NAFL. This old man will just stay in his little

back his laugh. "You're the coach of the best Academy football program on Union Continent. Your salary is enough to retire now and live a life of luxury until you

another witty comeback waiting for Leonel. But this

Thanks for choosing Royal Blue,

Wing, allowing him to attend the second ranked Academy. But, he chose Royal Blue because he liked

lip. If not

slapping Leonel's back even harder

drinking that green vomit your old

Leonel's grimace of pain,

it

pain with ice to hear Coach Owen's last words.

slowly faded, Leonel dug through his locker to find his

Leonel knew, his father worked in a government division that focused on nutrition and enhanced nutritional supplements. The Ascension Empire believed that while their technology advanced rapidly, the human condition lagged behind. So this unnamed division worked toward maximizing human potential with

to his Gene Assessment, he was slotted in to grow to six feet tall. But, after drinking this poison everyday, he superseded that by three inches

unnamed division after he retired

a familiar scorching pain seared Leonel's chest. But, at the very least, his aching ribs dulled down a bit. It would probably take a normal person about two months to

ticked by and Leonel was finally the only one remaining. Though he could have used the 'Refresh' ability of his watch, he preferred taking a shower as did most people. There was just

a towel around his waist and one hanging loosely over his head. Slightly obscured with a pattern of green, purple

through his hair, wincing as he struggled to keep

jeans, a skin-tight white turtle-neck sweater, and

pm right now, dad won't kill me too much if I'm

over his shoulder. But the moment he

moping around for?"