**Lillith – Chapter 37 – 2 Fights = 4 Balls in Danger**

A quick note before the story!
I feel like the chapters have been a bit repetitive during this arena arc, but don’t worry — I ask for your patience, as this arc is about to end and will lead into the next one (probably in the next chapter). Enjoy!

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**The second day of the Infernal Tournament begins with the four group members returning to their luxurious private suite in the upper stands of the arena.**

Emma is the first to enter. No fights today. She throws herself lazily onto the cushioned black leather sofa, her legs crossing with elegant idleness, and the upholstery creaks slightly as it molds to her body. She lets out a long sigh.

Armand follows right behind. He glances at Emma for a brief moment. His eyes, usually so analytical and stern, soften when he sees her. A silent look of care. He knew Emma was upset about losing, so he was doing everything he could to cheer her up. Emma notices and feels a warmth in her chest. Her mood, previously darkened by being out of the tournament, softens. Traveling with Armand was already a reward in itself. She gives a faint smile.

Shortly after, the other two enter. The room is complete. The magical windows that provide a perfect view of the arena glow brighter, signaling the official start of the event.

The Judge appears in the center of the arena, her voice echoing through the entire place via magical projection:

**"Welcome to the second day!"**

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and excited roars. In the cheaper seats below, the masses writhe with anticipation.

**"The first match of the day will be... Stellar versus Restig!"**

"Restig, huh? Isn’t he the one who used wind magic in a way similar to gravity manipulation?" Emma asks, turning her face toward Armand.

"Yes," he replies firmly. "But it requires ridiculously high concentration... If Stellar gets close to him, it’s over."

He answers without taking his eyes off the field.

The two combatants slowly emerge, walking down opposite corridors of the arena until they face each other from opposite sides. On the left, Stellar appears.

On the other side comes Restig. A young mage, seemingly in his twenties, pale skin, gray eyes, and a focused expression. He wears a dark green uniform, neatly pressed, with a tie and a school overcoat — likely from an elite academy. His silverwood staff has floating runes gently spinning around it.

The runes stop. The Judge slowly lowers her hand, then raises it quickly and declares:

**"Begin!"**

The sound of the magical gong echoes.

Immediately, Stellar charges forward. The muscles in her legs tense beneath her tight uniform, her feet strike the ground with power and precision. Dust clouds rise with each step, and within seconds she’s halfway across the arena.

Restig’s eyes widen.

**“SHIT!”** he whispers, raising his staff.

From his hands, he releases a burst of air that spreads in all directions like a pressure bomb.

Stellar nearly gets blown back, but with a subtle movement, she pulls out a thin golden dagger that had been tucked in her hair like a decorative accessory. She stabs it into the ground with firm determination.

The arena stones crack under the force of the blast. The wind blows, whistles, howls... but she holds firm. Crouched, one hand gripping the dagger’s handle tightly, her hair whips violently around her focused face.

Restig increases the spell’s power. Veins pop on his forehead. He gestures precisely, conjuring more pressure, trying to unbalance her. Stellar is partially lifted, the muscles in the arm holding the dagger tremble, her fingers almost slipping from the metallic hilt. Still, she doesn’t give in.

**“No... NO!”** the mage shouts, frustrated. He switches tactics.

He dispels the whirlwind and begins forming a sphere of air above the girl’s head. She looks up and sees a mass of compressed wind, vibrating, ready to crash down like an atmospheric hammer.

The boy pulls every drop of mana he has, and the sphere descends like thunder, as if gravity had multiplied tenfold. He aims to crush her to the ground. End it in one blow.

But Stellar has already read his patterns. At the right moment, she releases the dagger, uses the downward current from the previous strike as lateral momentum, and throws herself sideways with acrobatic elegance. Her body slides along the ground, her elbow scraping the stones, leaving a small scratch.

**BOOOOOM**

The air sphere crashes exactly where she was, creating a sunken crater with shards and debris.

The crowd gasps in shock. Young Restig panics as he realizes he missed, already preparing a new spell...

But Stellar is already on her feet, sprinting straight at him like a beast.

**“SHIT!”** he yells, pulling his staff, looking around in desperation.

She closes in. He raises his hand, conjures a breeze... almost nothing. His face contorts. The air comes out weak, nearly nonexistent.

**"Out of mana, huh?"** says Stellar, stopping right in front of him with a sarcastic smile.

She grabs his wrist with one hand and rips the staff from him with the other.

Stellar spins the staff and uses it like a baton, delivering a horizontal blow to the boy’s abdomen. He doubles over with a dry **“HURK!”**, spitting saliva. Before he can recover, Stellar gets close and headbutts his nose with a loud crack.

**“My nose! MY NOSE!”** he screams, bringing both hands to his face.

As the boy groans, dizzy and disoriented, Stellar positions the staff horizontally over her knee and... **CRACK!** breaks it in two.

She grabs the boy’s shoulder. He’s still holding his face, unaware of his surroundings.

She places her right knee between his legs. And with an explosion of strength and precision...

**TUFF**

**“Ugh...”** A thin, almost feminine moan escapes the boy’s throat. His eyes roll back for a moment.

The judge starts walking toward Stellar to declare the victory.

**“Wait...”** says Stellar. She steps forward and...

**TUFF**

Another knee strike. Dry and cruel. Directly to the testicles.

**“NGHAAAAAAAA!”** the boy screams, falling to his knees. He writhes, lies on his side, then on his back, rolls to the other side. Hands between his legs. His face twisted in extreme pain.

**“Now I get why your mana ran out so fast!”** Stellar shouts, laughing loudly. **“Your balls are TINY! HAHAHAHAHA!”**

The audience erupts in laughter, boos, and screams. The judge finally raises Stellar’s hand, declaring:

**“STELLAR WINS!”**

The girl spins on her heels and leaves the arena with a satisfied smile on her lips, while Restig continues moaning in a fetal position.

---

The winds of the arena swirled like invisible whirlpools as the judge returned to the control center of the draw mechanism. The magical lights lit up, and the gigantic hologram began to shine again in the sky, floating above all the spectators.

The tension in the private room was palpable. Silence was broken when the names appeared:

**LILLITH VS CIDRIX**

“‘Huh?!’”
Lillith’s eyes widened, surprised by what she saw.

“‘What?!’”
Celestina stepped forward, visibly shocked.

“‘Well... what a coincidence... looks like the training sessions are really going to pay off...’”
Armand commented with a subtle smile, crossing his arms as he looked at Lillith.

“‘You know what to do, Lillith. Use what you’ve learned!’”
He said firmly, without hesitation.

Lillith nodded silently. Without a word, she turned on her heels and ran toward the exit of the room. Her steps were firm, determined. The doors opened automatically as she descended the stairs toward the arena gate.

Armand sat beside Emma on the luxurious sofa. Emma, who had a somewhat distant look, leaned slightly to the side and whispered so Celestina wouldn't hear:

“‘To be honest... I had more faith in Celestina to win this fight...’”

Armand turned his face toward her, his gaze serious and piercing. The silence between them lasted less than two seconds, but it was enough for Emma to quickly look away, blushing. She wasn’t sure if what made her look away was the visible disapproval in his eyes... or the fact that she was so close to his face...

Armand finally broke the silence:

“‘Sometimes I think you underestimate Lillith... I feel like things would be easier if I could just get you two to get along...’”

He sighed deeply, crossing his arms and leaning back on the sofa.

Outside, the main arena gates slowly opened. Lillith entered with confident steps, her black combat leotard hugging her body perfectly. Her green hair was tied in a high ponytail, and with each step, the pendulum-like motion of her hair swung like a green whip. Her large breasts pushed against the tight fabric of her suit, bouncing with each movement, highlighting the witch’s confidence and aggressive sensuality.

On the other side of the arena, Cidrix was already waiting. His eyes followed her every step.

“‘Heh... not bad, huh? But with all due respect, I think the redhead’s were bigger.’”

The judge, standing beside him, rolled her eyes with visible impatience.

Lillith just stared at him coldly. Her eyes pierced into his like blades.

“‘I’ll make you say that again... when I’m stepping on your balls.’”

Cidrix gave a crooked smile and raised his fists, taking a combat stance. The movement activated a series of micro protective enchantments across his body — subtle flashes ran down his arms and legs.

Lillith took a deep breath. Her feet slid into the combat stance Armand had taught her during the past few days of intense training. She focused, her fingers subtly snapping with tiny sparks of electricity dancing between them.

The judge’s voice echoed loudly:

**“BEGIN!”**

The moment the word was spoken, Cidrix lunged forward — but Lillith also sprinted toward him, her feet kicking up sand and stones behind her.

The shock on Cidrix’s face was clear. Most witch hunters knew the best time to attack was while a witch was casting. But... what if the witch charged too?

“‘Shit!’”
he thought, hesitating for less than half a second.

That was enough.

Lillith rushed in directly, ignoring spells or preparation. He pulled his hips back and, in an instinctive gesture, brought both hands to guard his crotch. But the witch’s hand rose... straight toward his face.

“‘I’M GONNA FRY YOUR HEAD, YOU PERVERTED BASTARD!’”

She screamed, her right hand open, enveloped in a yellow aura, sparks leaping like electric serpents.

Cidrix tried to react, and with a nearly late reflex, raised his right arm in front of his face — it was what saved his skull. Lillith’s hand grabbed his forearm.

**ZAAAAP!!**

The electric discharge ran through Cidrix’s arm, and he howled in pain, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“‘AaaaaAAAARGH!!’”

Lillith didn’t stop. She threw herself at him with all her weight like a wild beast. Cidrix twisted to the side, dodging at the last second. Lillith fell, but was already spinning midair. During the spin, she activated a burst of magical fire under her feet and back, launching herself upward.

Her arm swung upward with brutality — a fiery uppercut.

Cidrix ducked with millimetric precision, dodging by mere inches.

“‘What the hell is this?!’”

The thought exploded in his mind. Sweat was already running down his temples.

Lillith landed on her feet, and without giving him a moment, launched at him again.

This time, he reacted. He dove low, spun around his own waist, grabbed her leg, and pulled hard. Lillith hit the ground, and Cidrix threw himself on her like a predator.

But the momentum made him miss the point of contact slightly.

His face sank between Lillith’s breasts.

He froze. The world seemed to slow down.

His eyes traveled over Lillith’s skin... up to her eyes. They were open. Her cold, judging stare pierced into his soul. Then he realized where he was — between her legs, Lillith’s knees nearly touching, and in the center, just above them, the target she wanted most... exposed.

His eyes widened. A wave of terror shot up his spine.

He immediately released her arms and brought both hands to protect his crotch.

Lillith saw it... and smiled. A discreet, victorious, venomous smile.

**“He’s terrified of getting hit in the danglers,”** Lillith thought.

**BAM!**

The headbutt landed straight on his nose. The crack of impact was loud and dry.

“‘ARRGH!’”

He staggered back, hands now on his face, blood rising quickly.

Lillith got up with fluidity and shouted:

“‘Like that? I learned it from your teacher in the last fight! And you know what comes next?’”

Terror returned to Cidrix’s face. He remembered — Restig... Stellar’s brutal knee strike... the sound...

“‘Oh no, fuck no!’”

He immediately took his hands off his face and once again covered his groin.

Little did he know — that’s exactly what Lillith wanted.

Green vines burst from the ground with a sharp snap, wrapping around Cidrix’s neck like a living rope. He widened his eyes, stumbling back.

Three wasted opportunities. Three chances thrown away out of fear.

He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

**“Focus... focus... now!”**
he thought.

But Lillith gave no respite. She ran at him again, both hands electrified, her fingers sparking like thunder claws.

Cidrix, however, relaxed his shoulders... and at the exact moment, dodged.
His right hand blocked the strike, pushing her arm away. His left hand grabbed Lillith’s elbow and yanked hard, spinning her body.

**SCHLAK!**

He positioned himself behind her, and in a swift motion, wrapped his arm around her neck... rear naked choke. His other arm pinned her wrists behind her back.

She struggled, caught off guard.

“‘Shit! Shit!’”

Lillith’s eyes widened. Her heart pounded, her neck squeezed by his arm’s pressure. She thrashed, hair flying, legs kicking back.

Cidrix pulled her in close, avoiding a heel strike, and tightened the chokehold.

“‘Now it’s a battle of breath... and I win at that. Special training. Game over!’”

He thought... **and then realized.**

The arm holding her wrists... behind her back...

**Was a mistake.**

Lillith’s hand, free, slid silently... and grabbed, with surgical precision, the sacred orbs between his legs.

“‘No!’”

He screamed. But her smile had already declared the true victor of the match.

And then... the agonizing sound of static began...

The crackling of a voltaic arc could be heard... until...

The shock stopped suddenly. The loud electric hum between their bodies fell silent, as if someone had cut an invisible wire.

Cidrix remained still. Pupils dilated. Muscles clenched.

Lillith also stayed in the same position, her right arm still raised, her hand embedded between his legs, fingers wrapped around the two fragile, precious orbs that formed the very core of male terror.

His entire body trembled, but the knees... the knees were the first to give in.

“*Unh...*”

The moan came out high-pitched, thin, almost ridiculous.

The sound reached Lillith’s ears like a sweet melody. Exactly what she wanted to hear. A small sound, but flavored with pure humiliation.

She smiled.

A wide smile. A smile that said *it’s done.* A cruel, cutting, sadistic smile.

Cidrix collapsed, his legs folding like a puppet with its strings cut. But Lillith didn’t let him fall. She held her grip tight, keeping him up by the testicles. They remained in the same position — the witch hunter nearly kneeling, suspended by nothing but pain and the vice of her grasp.

His hands released her neck in a desperate reflex and went straight to the point of destruction: Lillith’s hands.

“*Please...*”

Cidrix’s voice trembled. He was crying. Unashamedly.

Tears were already streaming from the corners of his eyes, falling in timid drops onto the arena’s sand. His hands clutched at hers, trying to pull, to plead, to release. But it was useless. Lillith had learned well how to lock her hold.

She spoke softly, with mocking tone, like casual banter:

“*I think... we’ve got a little conversation to finish, huh?...*”

“*P-please... uhnnn...*”

His voice broke with each word, as if the pain itself was erasing his ability to speak.

Lillith tilted her head slightly, staring into his eyes — now filled with desperation.

“*About that thing you said... remember? Comparing my tits to Emma’s?*”

Cidrix’s face turned red, not from embarrassment, but from the terror of where this was going.

She spoke louder, provoking him:

“*So? Who’s got the bigger ones, huh?*”

The question hung over him like an axe above his neck.

“*You do! You, Lillith! It's you!*”

The words burst out like gunshots of panic. A false confession, maybe — but desperate enough to try to avoid the fate being carved before him.

Lillith smiled again. Sweeter this time. Almost gentle.

“*Ohhhh, how cute...*”

She leaned a little closer, bringing her face near his.

“*But... I know you're lying.*”

The change in tone came with an icy chill.

“*And do you know what I do to liars?*”

**CRUNCH.**

The sound was more psychological than physical. But the effect was instant.

“*AAAAGHHHHHRRRR WHY?!*”

Cidrix screamed, his neck arched back, jaw open to its limit.

Lillith answered, now firmer, with that surgical mix of sarcasm and sadism:

“*Why? Because as long as men have... these soft little things between their legs...*”

She slowly twisted her wrist, massaging his testicles with cruelty, as if weighing them in the hand of a merciless judge.

“*...they don’t get to talk about women’s breasts. Unless they want to lose them.*”

The grip tightened. Much, much tighter.

Her fingers curved precisely around the testicles, as if trying to mold stone through sheer pressure. Cidrix’s screams echoed through the entire arena now. He thrashed, but his body was far too weak.

“*AAAAAGHHHHRRRHHHHH!!*”

Lillith kept the grip for long seconds.

Every attempt to escape only made it worse.

She sighed and continued:

“*Lucky you... Armand forbade us from bursting any little balls in this tournament.*”

She said it calmly, as if commenting on the weather.

She twisted his testicles slightly in a rotating motion. It wasn’t violent, but enough to make his whole body convulse and his soul beg for death.

She finished:

“*But if I wanted to...*”

The suggestion hung like an unspoken sentence.

Then suddenly, the grip eased — like an executioner letting the blade hover before pulling back.

Lillith finally released Cidrix’s testicles, and he collapsed instantly to the ground like a puppet without strings. His face fell into the sand, body curled in fetal position, hands between his legs, chest heaving in spasms.

Lillith laughed. Not loud or wild. It was controlled — like someone savoring the end of a delicious meal.

“*Now that I think about it... I remember how much Stellar insisted her students finish their fights properly...*”

She began walking, raising her chin.

“*So I guess your little balls still won’t get peace today...*”

The last look she gave Cidrix was almost... maternal. As if to say: *consider yourself educated.*

The judge finally raised her arm.

**“Victory to Lillith!”**

Lillith walked out of the arena as if nothing had happened, that same cruel smile still painted on her face. The gate opened before her. She crossed it in silence, calm steps, triumphant.

Behind her, the doors opened again, and two nurses ran into the arena.
Cidrix, still on the ground, groaned softly. Hands between his legs. Eyes closed.

The nurses knelt beside him and began violently lifting his limp body off the arena floor.

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