《Sunset Rebellion》


 Strength

    I had struggled against my master for what felt like an eternity. Every time I launched an attack, he would effortlessly slip away, either dodging with inhuman speed or deflecting my blows with precise, almost disdainful blocks. When he blocked, it was as though my fists struck stone¡ªthere was no give, no bruises left behind. And when he dodged, his body would blur, disappearing from my line of sight for a split second before reappearing somewhere just out of reach. It was maddening. My master¡ªZero¡ªwas known for his incredible speed and power. He wasn¡¯t just any fighter; he was the former leader of Sun, the strongest Supreme Clan in existence.


    The clans each ruled different territories, some lush and prosperous, others ruined and desolate, their conditions reflecting the character of their rulers. Sun had once been a beacon of hope, a clan known for its fairness. Yes, they fought¡ªthere was always conflict among the clans¡ªbut they never slaughtered innocents. They held themselves to a higher standard. But something had changed. Now, innocents lay dead in the streets, and their bodies served as grim evidence of Sun''s descent into darkness. It was as though the clan had become a twisted shadow of its former self, killing without remorse or purpose. Not that there could ever be a real justification for such atrocities, but still... Zero had opposed this shift from the beginning, and for that, he had been cast out, stripped of his title and power.


    I remember the day he was banished, well, as much as a baby could remember. It was unfair, even cruel. He had only wanted to keep the clan on its rightful path. But four rising stars, corrupted by their own ambition and greed, saw him as a threat. Since then, Zero had taken me under his wing, training me from birth with a single purpose: to surpass him and bring an end to the corrupted Sun. I never believed I could do it. I had spent years convincing myself that I would fail him, that I would disappoint the one person who had ever truly believed in me. But Zero never accepted my doubts. He told me over and over that I was like a son to him. It wasn¡¯t just about using me to achieve his goal¡ªthough I knew that was part of it. He had given me power, molded me into something far greater than I ever thought possible. And once his goal was fulfilled, he told me, I would be free to do whatever I wished with the strength he had gifted me.


    That brings me back to the beginning, to my frustration and doubt. For years, I had thrown myself at him, attacking with everything I had, yet I couldn¡¯t even land a single scratch. His skill, his experience, his sheer presence¡ªit all seemed so far beyond my reach. But today, just a few weeks after my twentieth birthday, everything changed. For the first time in my life, I surpassed him, victorious. I had beaten him¡ªno, I had beaten him senseless. I stood over his bruised and battered body, sprawled across the uneven grass next to the dilapidated shack we¡¯ve called home for years. His face was swollen, blood staining his lips and cuts scattered across his skin, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. For a moment, his eyes rolled back into his head, and I thought he might be out cold for good.


    Then, with a sudden jolt, his eyes shot open, snapping back to life as consciousness returned. He didn''t attempt to move, his body too broken and exhausted, but his gaze locked onto mine. "Bastard," he grunted through a strained voice, his tone as dry and biting as ever. "couldn''t have held back a bit? What if I died?" I shrugged, trying to hide the hint of satisfaction welling up inside me. "You''re not that weak," I replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. I knelt beside him, the damp earth cool beneath my knees, and extended my hand, offering to help him up. He looked at it, then back at me, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint grin, despite his pain. "No damn way," he groaned, shifting slightly, but not enough to actually move. "I can''t even lift a finger right now." His voice softened, becoming something more sincere. "But this... this just makes me happier than you know. You''ve mastered everything I wanted you to master. You¡¯re finally ready to leave." I pointed down the well-worn trail that wound its way down the mountain, disappearing into the distant horizon. "Then can I go now, or...?"


    He explained, leaning back against a worn stone pillar with a calculated expression, "Yes. I held this fight today because I heard some great news. Sun is recruiting through a tournament in Mas Kuli for the first time in years. Seems like their fight with Obsidian really knocked them down a peg." His eyes gleamed, the hint of a smirk forming on his lips as if he found amusement in their misfortune. I nodded thoughtfully, feeling the weight of his words settle in, "You want me to win the tournament and rise through the ranks?" He shook his head with a slow, deliberate motion. His voice dropped an octave, almost whispering, "No. I want you to win the tournament with as little effort as possible, then challenge one of the top brass. Sun is unique in that if you beat someone, you take their rank. You can shoot up the ranks quickly. Then, report back to me." He folded his arms, his gaze unwavering, almost daring me to object. Sounds troublesome... but I can do it. Without hesitation, I turned around and began walking toward the weathered wooden shack that had been my home for what felt like an eternity. "I''m going to pack up my things then," I called out over my shoulder, not even waiting for a response. As I approached the shack, its creaky door barely hanging onto its hinges, I paused for a moment before slowly pushing it open, the groan of the rusted hinges echoing through the silence. Behind me, I heard Zero¡¯s voice¡ªcalm, yet filled with an unspoken tension, "Do you regret our time here?" I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him, the dim light casting long shadows across his figure. No. I let a twisted smile spread across my face, my voice low and unsettling, "No. You gave me power. For that, I am grateful, and I will accomplish this task. But after that, we''re done." My smile lingered just a second too long. That man tortured me with his brutal training¡ªpushing me beyond my limits, robbing me of a normal childhood. But in return, I have an incredible future ahead of me, one filled with strength and potential. All I need to do now is get through this.


    A few minutes later..


    I took a step outside, feeling the cool morning air against my skin as the some more rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape. The sky above was a soft blend of pink and orange, promising the arrival of another day. I had changed into my gray coat, the fabric heavy but flexible. As I adjusted the collar, I glanced over at him, still lying motionless in the grass. His body was still as if he were part of the earth itself. The blades of grass swayed around him, and I noticed a few bugs had already begun crawling over his skin, undeterred by his presence. The sight was almost eerie, but I felt nothing as I stared down at him. "Well," I began, my voice cutting through the quiet of the morning, "is there anything else you need to tell me?" My tone was casual, though laced with impatience. I was ready to leave this place behind, to move forward with the next phase of the plan.


    He didn''t move at first. His eyes remained closed, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly with each shallow breath. Then, after a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice raspy and slow, "You need some money for the entry fee for said tournament. There''s some in the cabinet." I let my eyes narrow, the warmth of humanity fading from my gaze. My stare became cold and unfeeling, piercing into him as if I could see through to his very soul. "I already took it." I said flatly, my voice devoid of emotion. For the first time, he stirred. His head shifted slightly, turning just enough so that his eyes met mine. We locked eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to freeze around us. It was like two predators sizing each other up, though we both knew the real power dynamic had already shifted. And then, something unexpected happened. A smile broke across his face, and I could feel one forming on mine as well. It started small but quickly grew until we both burst into laughter.


    A few hours later..


    I had finally reached the base of the mountain, my legs not feeling any strain. This mountain had been my home for so many years, every path and hidden nook now ingrained in my memory. Zero told me not to worry, that he would recover. And, of course, I believed him. If I didn¡¯t, I wouldn¡¯t have left him lying there on the grass. Zero is strong, undeniably so. He once led a Supreme Clan that was respected, and also feared, across the land. But the years have taken their toll on him, as they do on all men. Still, he clung to a strength that I could only admire. Am I as strong as I think I am? Zero had trained me relentlessly, breaking me down and rebuilding me into something new. But even with all his knowledge and power transferred to me, could I be taken out by one of Sun''s top brass? That question lingered in my mind like a dark cloud, refusing to dissipate. I¡¯ll need to test that out eventually¡ªfind some way to truly measure my strength against theirs.


    In the distance, I spotted Het, a small, rural city nestled in the valley. The farmlands surrounding it stretched out like a patchwork quilt, dotted with livestock and rustic homes. Het seemed peaceful, but I knew better than to take anything at face value. It was a welcome sight after days of isolation on the mountain, but it wasn¡¯t without its dangers. I decided I¡¯d stop there to rest for today. My body needed it, and besides, my mind could use the break. I also realized that after all these years of talking only with Zero, my social skills had probably withered. I hadn''t interacted with anyone else in what felt like an eternity, and I knew I was definitely behind. Conversations with other people? I¡¯d be lucky if I could manage basic small talk. If I want to survive beyond the battlefield, I¡¯ll have to learn to adapt to the subtler battles of words and gestures. I may be powerful, but isolation breeds weakness in ways that brute strength can''t overcome. Two clans occupied Het¡ªJiambou and Bloody Knuckle. Both were Minor Clans. Jiambou dealt mostly in prostitution and drug circles, their corruption seeping through the cracks of Het''s economy like poison. Bloody Knuckle, on the other hand, had its claws in shakedowns and protection rackets, bullying the weak into submission. They were both on the darker side of morality, though Jiambou was the lesser evil of the two. Even so, I had no intention of getting involved with either of them. The last thing I needed was to be drawn into their petty power struggles.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    No, I needed to lay low, stay off their radar, and keep to myself.


    One hour later..


    I finally made it to Het. Now, I¡¯m walking along the town¡¯s outskirts, my eyes scanning for a place to stay. This town has an eerie stillness to it¡ªthere are barely any people out and about, and the streets feel almost deserted. As I walk, I avoid even considering the idea of staying inside someone¡¯s house, much less taking one from them. That¡¯s not who I am. I¡¯m not evil like Jiambou or Bloody Knuckle. I¡¯m different from those kinds of people, even if I will have to do some dark things to complete Zero''s goal. This city feels dead, like it¡¯s frozen in time. To my left, endless stretches of farmland where the crops sway in the faint breeze. To my right, a few stragglers loitering at a couple of cafes or shopping at small, rundown stores. Is this what rural life is? Quiet and uneventful? It¡¯s peaceful, I suppose, but not for me.


    I continue walking down the narrow dirt path, taking a sharp left when the road forks. Up ahead, at the end of the road, I see a sign barely hanging on top of a large wooden building. ¡°Tsai Hotel¡± it reads. The wood is old but sturdy, the paint peeling in some places, but the building itself is large enough to suggest it could host several travelers. This must be a place I can stay, I think, and with no other real options in sight, I walk toward it. As soon as I push open the door and step inside, the interior hits me like a well-placed liver punch. The atmosphere here is off¡ªdefinitely not the kind of place I expected. The dim, atmospheric lighting casts long shadows across the room, and while it¡¯s not exactly uninviting, it gives off a seedy, almost suffocating vibe. Modern couches are arranged haphazardly around the lobby, and to my surprise¡ªand disgust¡ªthere are actual bongs sitting out in the open for people to see. The pungent smell of something illicit lingers in the air. It doesn¡¯t take much to figure out that this place must be owned by Jiambou. This whole setup practically screams their influence. No doubt they have their claws deep in this establishment.


    I try not to let the distaste show on my face as I walk forward, my gaze shifting to the receptionist behind the counter. She¡¯s smiling at me, the kind of forced, empty smile you¡¯d expect from someone who¡¯s seen too much in a place like this. In front of her lies a paper with a list of names, presumably the current guests staying here. I sigh internally. I guess I don¡¯t have a choice but to stay here, at least for tonight. I approach the counter and raise my palm to the sky in a casual greeting. ¡°Are there any openings?¡± I ask. My voice is polite, but I can feel the tension in my body. The receptionist¡¯s smile widens, and she nods quickly. ¡°Yes, sir.¡± she says sweetly. ¡°There are two rooms open. Would you like to book one?¡± Uh, yes? That''s why I''m here, lady. I keep that snide remark to myself, forcing a smile instead. ¡°Yes, a single bedroom for one night, please.¡± She nods again and scribbles something down in a small book on the counter. ¡°That will be three silver, sir.¡± she says, her tone remaining cheery despite the drab atmosphere of the place. For some reason, her smile shifted¡ªno longer just a professional mask, but something sly, almost sinister. There was something off about it, and I couldn¡¯t place my finger on exactly why. A gut feeling told me I was being ripped off. This whole situation smelled rotten. I decided to play along with my hunch, letting suspicion creep into my tone. ¡°Three silver? That¡¯s a whole lot! Are you joking or are you serious?¡±


    Her expression faltered, and I caught the hesitation. She stumbled over her words for a moment, clearly unprepared for me to challenge her. I narrowed my eyes slightly. I only had about ten silver left¡ªno way a single night here could cost three. She knew that, and she was trying to take advantage of me. ¡°Sorry, sir.¡± she muttered quickly, her smile turning awkward. ¡°You seemed like a foreigner¡ª¡± Figures. Jiambou¡¯s influence must run deeper than I realized, with scams like this targeting outsiders. They think they can get away with it because no one pushes back. But before I could say anything else, a sharp, feminine voice from my right cut through the tense air. ¡°Stop!¡± I turned my head in the direction of the voice, only to see a girl, young and fierce-looking, prancing over with exaggerated confidence. She was beautiful, no doubt about it, but her expression was twisted with anger and indignation. She stopped just in front of me, glaring up at me like she had something to prove.


    ¡°If someone says a price, you deal with it!¡± she spat out, her eyes narrowing. ¡°You think we¡¯re scared of you?!¡± I could see the bravado in her stance, but also the slight tremble in her voice. She was overcompensating, trying to intimidate me. I wasn¡¯t having it. Calmly, I bent down to her level, close enough that our faces were nearly parallel. I dropped my voice to a low, chilling tone, just enough to convey a hint of menace. ¡°You should be.¡± Her eyes widened in response, and I saw her take a cautious step back. That defiant energy drained away quickly, leaving only a look of uncertainty. I stood back up, straightening my posture, and then addressed the receptionist again, my voice cool and measured. ¡°Just give me a fair price. I¡¯m tired, I¡¯ve traveled a long way today. I¡¯m not here to cause trouble.¡± The receptionist, clearly shaken now, nodded hurriedly, scrambling to make things right. ¡°Sorry, sir. Two bronze is the actual price. Your room is two hundred and two. It¡¯s upstairs.¡± She fumbled with the key for a moment, placing it gingerly on the desk. I pulled out my wallet, retrieved two bronze coins, and set them down deliberately. I wasn¡¯t about to let them take me for a fool, but I wasn¡¯t about to drag this out either. As soon as the coins clinked against the desk, she slid the key toward me with a nervous smile.


    I turned my back to the woman who had intervened, feeling a sudden surge of motion behind me. Instinctively, I twisted my head just in time to dodge a swift kick aimed at my back. It was a heel, meant to catch me off guard. With a quick reflex, I bent down, extended my foot, and sent a gust of wind in her direction. She stumbled and fell, but I didn¡¯t bother to look back at her. Instead, I continued my ascent up the stairs, my voice carrying a cold edge. ¡°Try that again, and you die.¡± These people were a lost cause¡ªno sense of honor or decency.


    I reached the top of the stairs, just about to surpass the last step, when I heard a loud crash followed by the sounds of yelling. No fewer than five. The commotion was immediate, and I could see the chaos unfolding in the lobby. Turning back, I spotted the five men, their aggressive postures and clenched fists making their intentions clear. Their capes marked them as members of a different clan, and with Bloody Knuckle being the only other clan besides Jiambou, it was obvious which side they were on. The man in the middle, with a loud and commanding voice, shouted, ¡°For Blood!¡± That confirmed it¡ªthey were part of Bloody Knuckle, and they were ready to brawl. The scene was chaotic. Four women in the lobby, clearly Jiambou members, were bracing themselves for the impending conflict. Two other men, presumably patrons, looked terrified and confused, caught in the crossfire. I had unwittingly walked into the middle of a gang war on my very first day in Het. Helping Jiambou might be a way to gain favor and perhaps coerce them into providing me with some money¡ªmoney I desperately needed since Zero¡¯s finances had left me short of the entry fee for the tournament. The prospect of earning that money while possibly gaining some allies was tempting. I nuzzled my chin thoughtfully, watching as the confrontation escalated. If I intervened, I could turn this chaotic situation to my advantage. But I had to be smart about it. Aligning myself with Jiambou might just be the ticket to getting the financial support I needed while avoiding direct involvement in their more unsavory activities.


    I backflipped a staggering thirty feet, landing with a heavy thud right in front of the five Bloody Knuckle men. The impact sent a minor shockwave through the ground, making my presence known immediately. One of the men, clearly unimpressed, sneered and mocked, ¡°Cool backflip. You wanted to help us?¡± I shook my head, a cold smile forming on my lips. ¡°No.¡± Without another word, I leaned back, focusing all my power into a single, devastating punch. This motion took no more than a quarter of a second. With a powerful thrust, I connected my punch with the cheek of the farthest left man. The force was enough to send him flying through the air, colliding with the other four. They tumbled together, their bodies crashing through the wooden wall with a resounding splintering sound. The wreckage of the wall and the sharp scent of destruction and defeat mingled in the air.


    In an instant, all five men were incapacitated, sprawled in a heap amid broken wood and debris. The lobby fell silent, save for the sound of the broken wall creaking and settling. I stood over them, and held my forearm, admiring the power I had just unleashed. With a satisfied smirk, I quipped, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m as strong as I think I am.¡±

 Payment

    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    Jackpot! This is exactly what I¡¯d been waiting for. Everything was falling into place. I leaned back, feigning nonchalance, and stated casually, "Why should I help you? You were pretty mean to me earlier, and I¡¯ve already helped out quite a bit." She continued begging, desperation dripping from her voice, "Please, we can make it worth your while!" As she said those words, time seemed to slow. The possibilities began to unfold in my mind. Make it worth my while? That didn¡¯t sound too bad. I tilted my head, a small grin forming as I responded, "Make it worth my while? That doesn¡¯t sound half bad. How about... some money?" Her eyes lit up immediately, hope flaring to life as if I¡¯d just thrown her a lifeline. "Yeah, we¡¯ve got tons!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with urgency. The receptionist, who had been watching nervously from the sidelines, suddenly chimed in, nodding vigorously. "She''s right! We do!"


    I rubbed my fingers together slowly, considering the offer, letting the tension build for a moment longer. "Alright," I said, finally breaking the silence. "Where can we discuss this further?" She stood up quickly, eager to seize the opportunity, her voice rushing with excitement. "I''ll take you to our main building, Jiambex. It''s further west, and our leader is there. You can discuss everything with her." I smiled. "Well then," I said, standing up and motioning her to lead the way, "lead the way." I could rest later. This opportunity had to take priority.


    </article>


    She led me out of the hotel, and we stepped into the warm afternoon air. The streets were quieter than I expected for a city in the midst of a clan war, but there was a strange calmness to it all. We passed by a few people here and there, walking with purpose but without urgency, and the buildings we walked past were surprisingly well-kept¡ªsome with freshly painted walls, others with neatly arranged flower beds. The contrast of serenity against the backdrop of conflict felt surreal.


    Further along, the landscape began to shift. The open farmlands gave way to more densely packed streets, and the air grew heavier with the scent of street food and city life. It wasn¡¯t long before we found ourselves on a street that had a much different vibe. The urban sprawl here was raw and unapologetic. Bright neon lights flashed above shop windows, and the sidewalks were lined with women¡ªbeautiful, scantily dressed, each of them eyeing us as we passed. These must be... well, the prostitutes. One of them, bolder than the rest, called out with a mischievous grin, ¡°Jane, is that your new boyfriend?!¡± Her voice was loud and playful, cutting through the murmur of the street. Jane¡¯s cheeks flushed a deep red, but she kept walking, refusing to engage. I shook my head and answered firmly, "No, I am not."


    Out of nowhere, Jane whipped her arm towards me in a playful but sharp motion¡ªclearly annoyed by my denial¡ªbut I blocked it before she could make contact. Her face softened, a mix of frustration and amusement playing in her eyes. Without another word, we continued walking. Finally, we reached our destination. It was another large building, similar in design to the Tsai Hotel, but bigger and better maintained. The stone walls gleamed in the sunlight, and the entryway was framed by polished pillars that gave it an air of importance. ¡°This is it.¡± Jane said, her voice steady as she pushed open the heavy door. She held it open for me, glancing over with a faint smirk. I nodded as I stepped inside, saying, ¡°Thanks.¡± That¡¯s how you do it, right?


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    The lobby was filled with women again¡ªeverywhere I looked, there they were. The thought crossed my mind: Do they not recruit men here? Their eyes locked on me as soon as I entered, and I could feel the weight of their stares. They sized me up, their gazes full of suspicion and maybe a hint of annoyance, as though I didn¡¯t belong. And to be fair, technically, I didn¡¯t. Jane, sensing the tension, stepped forward to ease their doubts. "Calm down, everyone. This is someone who''s going to help us against Bloody Knuckle." The room remained thick with skepticism. One of the women lounging on a couch nearby paused mid-action, sharpening a knife. She glanced at me with narrowed eyes, then sneered. "Bullshit. This guy looks weak." Her voice dripped with disdain, and it seemed like she was ready to challenge me on the spot. Jane began to protest, her voice rising to defend me, but I quickly swiped my arm in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. "Let me prove myself to these people." I said calmly, locking eyes with the woman who had insulted me.


    She stood up slowly, her stance predatory. "Brave," she said with a smirk. "you ready?" Apparently, people like this aren''t just in books. Before I could reply, she lunged forward, her knife aimed directly at me. I sidestepped effortlessly to the left, the blade slicing through the air where I¡¯d been just a moment before. She followed up with another thrust, quicker this time, but I dodged it again, as if it were nothing more than a game. "That all you got?" I taunted, watching her movements become frantic. She gritted her teeth and switched the knife to her left hand. Her movements became even more frantic, and she came at me with a barrage of quick, slicing motions. But even as the attacks sped up, I wove through them with ease, my body flowing out of the way with each swing. I could see the sweat starting to bead on her forehead as her breathing grew heavier. She was tiring, and her strikes began to slow, more out of desperation than precision.


    The other women had gathered around, watching the exchange closely. They knew, as well as she did, that she was losing. I saw her wind up for a horizontal slice and in one swift motion, I sidestepped and kicked the knife out of her hand. The blade spun through the air before I caught it, gripping the handle firmly. I held it up and examined the blade for a moment, then looked her dead in the eyes, smirking. "Good knife," I said casually. "Too bad you can''t cut anything with it, though." Her face twisted in pure anger, her pride clearly shattered. But before she could react, a voice echoed from the back of the room. "Mine, stop it. For the man out there, come inside." The voice was calm but authoritative, cutting through the tension like a blade. I turned towards the sound, coming from a doorway leading to a back room. Jane, still standing behind me, leaned in and whispered, "That''s our leader." I let the knife fall from my hand, its metallic clatter on the floor breaking the silence. Without another word, I headed towards the back room, ready to meet this so-called leader.


    I stepped into the room, but I barely had time to register my surroundings before someone came at me, foot aimed right for my head. Instinct took over, and I caught the kick with ease, the sole of her boot stopping mere inches from my ear. I held her foot in place, and with a calm but pointed tone, I asked, "What was that for?" Everyone is testing me today. The woman withdrew her leg quickly and bowed her head slightly, an apology in her voice. "It was a test. I apologize. You''ve already proved yourself¡ªI shouldn''t have done that." She took a seat on the table in the middle of the room, her posture relaxing slightly now that the tension had passed. "Sit, if you please." she offered. I glanced around the room, taking in the details. The dim purple neon lights gave the space a strange, almost ethereal glow, the kind you¡¯d expect more from a nightclub than an office. To my right, shelves lined the wall, filled with old books and small trinkets, but I wasn¡¯t here for decor. My attention snapped back to the woman. "No thanks." I replied curtly, remaining standing. She didn¡¯t seem offended, simply nodding and getting straight to business. "Well then, what do you want in return for helping us?"


    I crossed my arms, letting my words hang heavy in the air. "You seem to misunderstand something," I said, watching her eyes sharpen with focus. "I¡¯m not merely helping you. I¡¯m going to eradicate Bloody Knuckle for you." Her mouth fell open, shock washing over her expression before she caught herself. She blinked, then scratched her head, clearly trying to process the gravity of what I¡¯d just said. "You... you can do that?" she asked hesitantly, disbelief laced in her voice. I stared directly into her eyes, unwavering. "Without a shadow of a doubt." She scratched her head again, a nervous tick that betrayed her uncertainty. "I don¡¯t trust you... not yet," she admitted. "but still, we need to discuss your price. What do you want?"


    I leaned forward slightly, my tone serious. "I want ten gold," I said simply. "and I''ll be nice¡ªI¡¯ll accept payment after the job is done." She sighed deeply, clearly relieved the price wasn¡¯t higher. "Sure, sure. We can afford that." she agreed. I extended my hand towards her, a gesture of goodwill. "Pleasure doing business with you. My name is Vellin." I said firmly. She grasped my hand, and we shook, her grip firm despite her earlier hesitations. "Likewise. my name is Mary. If you accomplish this," she said, her tone more respectful now, "we will not forget it."

 Pierce

    Mary pushed herself up from the worn leather chair, her movements heavy, as though the weight of recent events clung to her limbs. She drifted toward the back window, her gaze fixated on the street below. The sunlight filtered through the grimy panes, casting a warm glow over the cobblestones of the road where Jane and I had walked earlier. It was a quaint street, lined with charming old buildings and vibrant flowers in cracked pots, yet there was an undercurrent of peace in the air¡ªone I could tell Mary was desperate to preserve. Her thumbs twitched restlessly, a nervous habit she couldn¡¯t quite suppress. It betrayed the depth of her distress.


    "Since this war started a couple of weeks back," she began, her voice tinged with exhaustion, "many of my friends became cripples. Those bastards have taken out more than thirty percent of my members." She raised her hand slowly, revealing a bruised and swollen fist, the skin mottled with shades of purple and blue. Her eyes glistened with a mix of anger and sorrow as she clenched it tightly, as though willing her strength back into her knuckles. "Give them hell for me, will you? They''re... I know we''re not perfect, but they''re evil." I met her gaze but remained unmoved. "I have no feelings in this conflict. I''ll do what I''ve been paid to do. Give me one hour."


    Her eyes lingered on me a moment longer, searching for something¡ªperhaps a glimmer of humanity¡ªbut she seemed resigned when she nodded. "Every Bloody Knuckle member wears a red cape. Easy to identify." She delivered the information hoping I would take it seriously, though my indifference was clear. I reached up and pulled back my hood, letting it drop. The shadows that had concealed my face slid away, revealing my trained body fully to Mary. Her cheeks flushed slightly at the sight, though she quickly turned her head, perhaps embarrassed by her reaction. I shifted my weight, dropping my heavy, worn bag near her couch. It hit the ground, my supplies inside. "I''m keeping this here until I''m done," I said flatly, my voice carrying the authority of someone who expected no argument. I stepped out of the room and moved with purpose through the lobby, the worn wooden floor creaking under my boots. I could feel the eyes of others lingering on me as I passed, but I ignored them, focusing on the task ahead. The west side of town beckoned¡ªa place filled with the tension of rival forces and the promise of chaos. It was time to start dismantling.


    I left the east side of town, a place dripping with decadence and lust. The air was thick with the scent of perfumes, the echo of laughter from dimly lit lounges, and the clinking of glasses from hidden parlors. Yet, even amid all that, there was a certain allure to it¡ªa deceptive charm that, in its own way, felt less hostile than what lay ahead. I was on my way to the other side of town, one ruled by violence, where bloodshed and evil simmered just on the surface. Between them, a river flowed lazily, the last remnant of an old boundary that once kept the two worlds apart. That boundary had been respected, once. Now it was crumbling, breached by the arrogance of Bloody Knuckle. Either they believed they could bring Jiambou down without much of a fight, or they had an ace up their sleeve. Either way, their plans didn''t concern me. I had my job to do, and nothing they did would change that.


    A single bridge connected the two sides, the only passage across the river, and it was heavily guarded. Three men sat on the bridge, each built like they spent their days lifting crates instead of weapons, their red capes fluttering slightly in the breeze. They lounged around a makeshift table, laughing and tossing cards as though they had no care in the world. They looked like brothers, not in blood, but in their identical posture and shared cocky demeanor. Then there was the fourth man. Taller, thicker, and clearly more dangerous. His white cape billowed out behind him like a banner, and unlike the others, his eyes were locked on me from the moment I came into view. He didn¡¯t smile or join in the card game. No, he was assessing me. The muscles beneath his shirt were better than the others. I stepped onto the bridge, making my presence known with the sharp click of my boots on the stone. Slowly, I slid my hands into my pockets, my posture relaxed but my mind focused.


    "Yo." I called out casually. "I''ve been hired by Jiambou to eradicate Bloody Knuckle from the map." The laughter came almost immediately. The three card-playing men looked up, their faces splitting into wide grins as they mocked me with disbelief. One of them, with a smirk plastered across his face, flicked a card at me as if to show how little he thought of the threat I posed. I swiped it away without breaking eye contact. "What an idiot." the card-flinger scoffed, pushing himself up to his feet. He sauntered toward me with a swagger that showed his overconfidence, his eyes gleaming with the promise of violence. As he reached me, he cracked his knuckles, the sound loud in the quiet air. He grabbed me by the collar, his grip rough, pulling me toward him so I could feel the heat of his breath.


    The moment his hand clamped onto my collar, I moved. My fingers wrapped around his wrist, my grip tightening. His confident smirk faltered as he realized something was wrong, and a strained expression spread across his face. Slowly, I increased the pressure, my fingers digging into the tendons and bones beneath his skin. His muscles trembled as he tried to pull away, but it was too late. A sharp snap echoed in the air as his wrist gave way, the bone cracking under the force.


    His scream never had a chance to fully escape. He crumpled to his knees, clutching his shattered wrist in agony. I took a step back and spun, delivering a roundhouse kick to his cheek with brutal precision. His head snapped to the side, and his body lifted slightly off the ground before tumbling over the edge of the bridge. There was a brief splash as he hit the water, disappearing beneath the blue. The two remaining men, their laughter silenced, stood up from their card game. Their expressions had shifted from amusement to cold resolve as they began to approach, but before they could take another step, a thunderous stomp shook the bridge. The man in the white cape, Tom, halted them with that single movement. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, and his eyes gleamed with a mix of respect and challenge.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "You''re not all talk." he said, his voice low and gruff but carrying a note of acknowledgment. "I''ll introduce myself, as it seems you''re from out of town. My name is Tom. I''m Bloody Knuckle''s No. 4, ''The Bruiser.''" I nodded, rolling my shoulders and cracking my neck as if to stretch out the tension. "Good," I replied, my tone casual despite the impending fight. "I was getting tired of these small fry." Tom''s jaw tightened, and he clenched his teeth. His posture shifted, his muscles coiling as if ready to strike at any moment. "Well, let''s begin!" he shouted.


    Tom lunged forward, extending his front leg as he stepped in for a snap jab. The movement was clean and practiced, but I sidestepped it with ease, weaving out of the way as if it were nothing. His speed was better than the rest¡ªsharper, more refined¡ªbut still, it wasn¡¯t enough to put me on edge. I remained calm, assessing his every move with cold precision. He followed up with a more powerful shot, his fist coming at me with heavy force. I caught it in my palm. With a flick of my wrist, I deflected his strike, and for a brief moment, his balance faltered. His feet shuffled awkwardly, and I seized the opportunity. Raising my arm, I prepared to attack, but instinct held me back. I could see it¡ªif I struck now, he¡¯d be ready to counter.


    Instead, I shifted tactics. My foot shot forward, driving into his stomach with a hard kick that sent him stumbling backward. The force pushed me back as well, giving me a few feet of distance to reevaluate the situation. My fist had been cocked and ready, but the hesitation had saved me from a costly mistake. If I had committed to that punch, Tom would¡¯ve had the opening he needed to strike back. He wasn''t one to give up easily, though. Tom came at me again, closing the gap quickly and throwing a barrage of punches. His hands moved with precision¡ªjabs, straights, a blur of fists aimed at taking me down. His form was solid, his blows well-practiced, and though I deflected and dodged most of them, it was clear that he knew how to fight. He wasn¡¯t some brute relying solely on strength; he had discipline, technique.


    He swung a hook at me, but I raised my arm and blocked it, the impact sending a very minor jolt up my forearm. Tom sneered, his voice thick with mockery as he shouted, ¡°Finally stop running?¡± Running? Is that what he thought this was? Testing his limits, gauging his abilities¡ªthat was all I had been doing. But if he mistook my patience for cowardice, that was his error, not mine. Despite his taunt, his expression shifted, and I caught something odd in his eyes. He was smiling¡ªa wide, confident grin that didn¡¯t match the situation. Why?


    Then, out of nowhere, I was hit¡ªsquare in the jaw. My head snapped to the side, and for a moment, my vision blurred as the world tilted. The sky above was a vibrant blue, a few wisps of clouds drifting lazily across it, completely unaware of the fight below. For a second, I let my mind drift, oddly calm as I curved with the momentum of the blow. Instinct kicked in. I twisted my body, letting the force of his punch guide me as I lashed out with my leg. My foot connected with Tom¡¯s jaw, the impact sharp and precise. He flipped backward, his large frame crashing down onto the bridge. As his back hit the ground, I completed my full rotation, landing lightly on my feet. My hand brushed against my mouth, wiping away a small streak of blood. The punch hadn¡¯t been strong; I had just bitten my tongue. Fortunately, the hit was enough to awaken something inside me¡ªan awareness I hadn¡¯t fully grasped before. My strength and speed far exceeded his, far exceeded anyone at this level. Yet, even with that advantage, I realized my flaw. It wasn''t a matter of power or skill. It was experience. I had grown accustomed to fighting a certain way¡ªfighting against Zero, a masterful opponent whose style I had memorized, whose movements I could predict. Boxing was not in Zero''s skillset. But Tom? Tom struggled back to his feet, wiping at his own jaw with a smirk still plastered across his face. "You''re fast," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "but you''re weak."


    I looked down at my arm. The veins in my right hand were pulsing, more pronounced now, a reminder of the strength I held back. I allowed myself a moment of reflection, my voice quiet as I monologued to myself. "You''re fairly skilled, strong, and fast." I admitted. "You can beat most people easily." Tom raised his fists, determination flashing in his eyes as he prepared for a final blow. He bellowed with confidence, "Of course!" I lifted my gaze, locking onto him, staring deep into his soul with an intensity that made him hesitate. My eyes voided, any trace of doubt or hesitation vanishing as the air between us seemed to shift. My voice dropped, cold and unwavering. "I''m not most people," I said slowly, each word a promise of what was to come. "and I¡¯m certainly not going to lose to you."


    I moved. The twenty-foot distance between Tom and me disappeared in less than a quarter of a second, my body becoming a blur of speed. My hand was already poised at my side, fingers splayed in a spear formation. With precision and deadly force, I drove all five fingers into Tom''s torso, cutting through him like a razor through cloth. He didn''t even have time to react. His body stiffened as blood surged from his mouth in a choked gurgle. His eyes bulged, the shock clear in them. "What... was that?" he coughed, his voice weak and slurred. I held my head high, "My unique martial arts style, Piercing Hand. Be grateful I used it against you." Blood pooled in his throat as he struggled to speak. "Egotistical... prick." His body went limp, his strength failing him completely as he fainted. I slowly retracted my hand from his body, now slick with blood. It dripped from my fingertips. I swiped my arm to the side, shaking off the majority of the blood, watching as it splattered onto the ground.


    The two men who had been standing guard with him froze in place, their faces pale. Their commander, Bloody Knuckle''s No. 4, had been defeated in mere moments. Their confidence shattered, they stood helplessly, paralyzed by fear. I turned my gaze to them, my voice calm but commanding. "I''ll spare you if you take off those capes right now and never come back." The first man hesitated, tears welling in his eyes as he looked down at Tom''s motionless body. His voice trembled as he replied, "We''re never going to abandon our friends." I sighed. Loyalty was admirable, but misplaced in this situation. "Okay." I said quietly.


    I raised my foot straight into the air, bringing it down with unrelenting force onto the man''s face. His skull caved under the impact, and his body crumpled into the ground. The other man had no time to react before I spun, my heel connecting with his chest. The force of the blow sent him flying off the bridge, tumbling through the air before splashing into the river like his friend. I straightened up, brushing off my hands before turning my attention forward. The west side of town lay before me, the heart of Bloody Knuckle¡¯s territory.. If Tom was No. 4, then maybe, just maybe, No. 1 would be able to take more than one hit before losing.

 Ripper

    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    A young man bursted out of the shadows, his movements frantic. He¡¯s wearing a red cape¡ªa symbol I know all too well. Not again... Bloody Knuckle¡¯s pawns are everywhere, it seems. His eyes burn with a wild fury as he yells, "For Blood!" He charges at me with reckless abandon, winding up for a right punch. His fist connects with my cheek, the force enough to indent my skin. But that¡¯s all it does¡ªno pain, no damage. I meet his eyes, unimpressed. "Are you that weak?" I ask, my voice calm, cutting through the tension. Without giving him a chance to recover, I drive my fist into his gut. The impact is brutal, and he doubles over, spitting out a mixture of saliva and blood, his body convulsing from the force. Before he can fall, I seize him by the hair, my fingers gripping tightly into the greasy strands. His breath comes in ragged gasps as I drop low, using my weight and leverage to slam his face into the cracked pavement with a sickening thud.


    More men came at me as I ventured deeper into their territory. Their attacks were relentless but sloppy, their movements wild and undisciplined. Each one fell with just a single blow, crumpling to the ground. None of them could withstand even a moment¡¯s challenge. They fought like they¡¯d never learned a real martial art in their lives¡ªjust brawlers with cheap, self-taught moves that were easy to counter. It was almost disappointing, how easily they crumbled. As I moved further in, the surroundings shifted slightly, though the improvement was minimal. The streets became marginally cleaner, the buildings less damaged, but the town hung heavy with decay. How could Bloody Knuckle allow their own people to live like this? These were their citizens, their so-called loyalists. In any other place, a happy citizen means higher taxes or a better reputation for the ruling faction. But these guys¡ªthey didn¡¯t care about any of that. Scumbags, the lot of them. I felt nothing but satisfaction as I dropped each one, like I was doing the world a favor.


    Up ahead, I spotted two men sitting lazily in a dingy restaurant, their eyes locking onto me the moment I came into view. They didn¡¯t bother to hide their aggression, glaring at me with unmistakable menace. The first one leaned over and whispered something to his friend, who nodded in agreement. Then, as if he couldn¡¯t wait for trouble to find him, the second man yelled out, "Hey, who are you? We¡¯ve never seen you before." I didn¡¯t waste time on pleasantries. I raised my hand, flipping them off with a smirk. "Someone who¡¯s going to kick your ass." The moment the words left my mouth, the first man snapped into action. His eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he launched his fork at me like a dart. I deflected it with a simple motion, my forearm knocking it away effortlessly. Before I could react further, he leaped into the air, attempting a flying kick, his foot aimed at my chest.


    I sidestepped smoothly, catching his leg mid-flight and yanking him down with force. His face met the ground in a brutal slam, the impact resonating through the dirt. Just then, the second man was finally closing in, his footfalls heavy and rushed. I grabbed his fallen friend¡¯s body and hurled him toward the oncoming attacker. The two collided with a loud crash, the thrown body knocking the wind out of the second man as he tumbled backward onto the hard ground. I moved in before he could recover, stepping onto his exposed shoulder, grinding my foot into him as he gasped in pain. Both men were at my feet, defeated in mere seconds. I looked down at them, disgust evident in my voice. "How could you call yourself a fighter after this humiliation?" I leaned down, looking the man directly in the eye. "Hey, I¡¯ve been trying to find Bloody Knuckle¡¯s main base of operations. Can you tell me where it¡¯s at?" My voice was calm.


    The man winced in pain, blood dribbling from his mouth as he spat a crimson glob to the side. "Will... you let me go if I tell?" His voice was weak, the desperation starting to creep in. I stomped the dirt next to his head, hard enough to send a small shockwave through the ground. A crater formed under my boot, the force rattling the man¡¯s body. Slowly, I cracked my neck, letting the sound echo through the tense air. "That¡¯ll be your head if you don¡¯t tell me. Hurry up." His eyes widened in fear, and he nodded quickly. "Okay, it¡¯s at¡ª" Before he could finish, a sharp whistling sound sliced through the air. His body jerked suddenly, and a knife embedded itself squarely in his skull. His eyes rolled back as his body slumped to the ground, lifeless. I immediately traced the trajectory, my eyes snapping upward to the caf¨¦¡¯s roof.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    There, crouched like a predator ready to strike, was another man, draped in a flowing white cape that contrasted sharply with the grimy surroundings. His fingers were still extended, as if savoring the moment after throwing the knife. His cold, calculating gaze met mine as he stood up, a smirk forming on his lips. "We have no room for traitors in our clan." he said casually, like it was an everyday task to silence those who defied Bloody Knuckle. "My name is Jack ''the Ripper.'' I¡¯m No. 3 of Bloody Knuckle." Jack leaped from the roof, arms spread wide like an eagle in mid-dive. He landed effortlessly, bending into a crouch to absorb the impact. There was a grace in his movements¡ªcontrolled, precise. Without wasting a second, he dashed toward me in a blur, his knife glinting in the dim light as he slashed with lethal intent.


    Unlike the others, he was skilled¡ªhe didn¡¯t trip over the bodies scattered around us, navigating the battlefield like a trained killer. His blade came at me in a horizontal arc, faster than most could react to, but I met his strike with my palm, deflecting it just in time. The force of the impact vibrated slightly through my arm, and I could tell instantly¡ªhe was much better than Tom. Faster, stronger, and his strikes carried the intent to kill. He wasted no time, switching to a reverse grip with fluid ease, and his blade flashed toward my neck, aiming for a quick finish. I reacted instinctively, planting my hands behind me and flipping into a handstand. Using the momentum, I shot my foot upward, connecting squarely with his chin. The blow landed hard, snapping his head back and leaving an immediate bruise across his jawline.


    He paused, retreating a few steps as his breathing steadied. His eyes remained locked on me. In one swift motion, he hurled his knife directly at me. "How are you so fast?!" he yelled, frustration creeping into his voice. With barely a flicker of movement, I caught the blade between my thumb and index finger, holding it as if it weighed nothing. "Intense training." I said, before twisting the knife and flinging it back toward him. The blade sliced through the air and embedded itself deep into his thigh.


    He grimaced in pain, letting out a small grunt as he yanked the knife free. Blood seeped through the fresh wound, staining his clothes. Without hesitation, he tore a piece of his shirt and tied it around his leg to stem the bleeding. The wound wasn¡¯t deep, but it clearly slowed him down. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the bloody knife upward into the sky, the blade disappearing into the clouds above. I kept my eyes on him, aware of every movement, but suddenly, he lunged at me again, this time with a renewed fury. His slashes came fast and unpredictable, his knife switching hands and grips in rapid succession, each cut intended to slice through my defenses. But I dodged them all, my body moving with ease, avoiding every strike. His frustration deepened, but so did his smile. "You idiot," he sneered between attacks. "you fell for it."


    The moment he said those words, I sharpened my focus. Something wasn¡¯t right. My instincts screamed at me. I shifted my gaze upwards, and in that split second, I saw it¡ªthe knife he had thrown into the sky was barreling down towards me, like an arrow fired from above. It was only a heartbeat away from striking me, descending at terrifying speed, breaking through the air like it was nearing the sound barrier. Jack had played me, leading me into the exact spot where the knife would fall, all while distracting me with his barrage of attacks. The setup was brilliant, and I had to give the man credit¡ªif anyone else were in my place, they¡¯d be dead.


    But it¡¯s me.


    I pushed off my left foot with everything I had, my body blurring from the force of my movement. The knife plunged into the ground just behind me, slicing through five feet of dirt and rock like a meteor. Jack stood there, bewildered, scanning the area. From his point of view, I had vanished in an instant, completely slipping out of his sight. I snapped my fingers casually. "Over here, man." He whipped around, eyes wide with disbelief. "How did you dodge that?! That knife was going over three hundred meters per second! I¡¯ve trained my whole life for that one technique!" He was frustrated.


    I clapped slowly, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. "No, really¡ªyou should be proud of it. That was dangerous, I¡¯ll give you that. I had to use nearly all of my speed to dodge it." My tone shifted as I looked at him, my gaze sharp. "I hope you understand now just how outclassed you are." I paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, enough compliments." I tapped into my full speed once again, blurring forward so fast it must have looked like I teleported. In an instant, I was standing right in front of him. His eyes barely had time to widen before I fired a right straight, the punch landing square on his nose with a sickening crack. The force of the impact sent him flying backward, his knives clattering uselessly to the ground as his body raddled across the dirt. He tumbled for a good thirty feet, leaving a blood trail in his wake as the friction tore at his skin. I watched him come to a stop, motionless, his body sprawled in the dust. With a sigh, I rubbed the back of my head, feeling a mix of satisfaction and regret. "I really should¡¯ve asked where their HQ was." I muttered to myself, glancing down at the unconscious, or dead, Jack. I let out another sigh, turning away from the scene, hoping my next encounter would offer more luck.

 Headquarters

    I jumped onto the roof of the caf¨¦ where Jack was. The aged wood groaned beneath my weight, almost threatening to collapse. This whole place feels like it''s barely holding together¡ªyears of neglect etched into every creak and crack. Glancing across the town, it¡¯s obvious there are no towering buildings here like the ones I¡¯ve heard about in the capital, but the flat rooftops give me a good vantage point. I scanned the horizon, my eyes skimming over run-down structures. They¡¯re all in poor condition, nothing to suggest wealth or power¡ªexcept for one. A blood-red building stood out in the distance, its crimson color unnerving against the gray skyline. There''s some kind of writing on the top, but it''s unfamiliar, cryptic even. The building isn¡¯t far, probably symbolic, but the dark aura around it feels like more than just a symbol. Without wasting any more time, I leapt to the next rooftop. The uneven tiles shifted beneath my feet, and I had to stay light to avoid a fall. I wonder how the people living in these decrepit buildings feel about all this. Have they ever tried to rise up, or have they long since surrendered to their fates?


    I kept moving, leaping across rooftops with ease, my body flowing in perfect sync with each jump. Grace and precision. I finally reached the last rooftop and crouched low, the scene unfolding before me. The space opened up to a courtyard below where twenty men stood guarding the blood-red building. Their crimson capes fluttered faintly in the breeze, the color matching the eerie hue of the building. A man in unfamiliar clothing, wearing a white cape, stood near the entrance, his stance rigid and watchful. But what really caught my eye was the hulking figure sitting on the steps. Muscles rippled beneath his red cape, and he exuded an authority the others lacked. He¡¯s not like the rest. This place is either their HQ or something close to it.


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    I leapt down from the rooftop, landing smoothly in the open courtyard. My boots hit the ground with a muted thud, and I straightened up, raising my head with a calm yet commanding presence. The air here was thick with tension, a weight pressing down on my shoulders. I could feel the eyes of the men on me as I asked, "Is this Bloody Knuckle''s headquarters?" The muscular man on the steps didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he raised a hand. Slowly, deliberately, the twenty men in blood-red capes began to fan out, encircling me like wolves closing in on prey. The tension heightened, but no one made a move. His voice broke through the quiet, low and gravelly. "Nice to meet you, Jiambou''s savior. You''ve made things so difficult for me." The men completed their circle, eyes locked on me, but still¡ªno attack. I wasn¡¯t going to get an answer. Fine. My fingers clenched into fists, knuckles cracking in the eerie quiet as I spoke. "Let¡¯s get this over with."


    The man on the steps held up a hand, signaling me to stop. "Don¡¯t assume I want to fight." His tone was oddly composed, amused. "Sure, you¡¯ve made things difficult, but I understand the value you have." I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. "Value?" His lips curled into a smirk as he stood, his muscles tensing as he made a fist. "Yes. In one day, you''ve taken out so many of my men... You have to be stronger than me. That¡¯s not something I can ignore. I¡¯m here to make you an offer."


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    I couldn¡¯t help it¡ªI burst out laughing. The sound was loud and mocking. The sheer audacity of this man, standing there as if his offer meant anything. I shook my head, wiping a tear from my eye. "Look around you." I said, still chuckling. "Do you think you¡¯re treating your citizens right?" Yuri¡¯s demeanor shifted instantly. One of his eyes flared an ominous blood red, veins bulging as his face twisted into something darker. "Do I care about them?!" His voice was sharp, dripping with disdain. "They¡¯re sheep, and I¡¯m the shepherd!" He paused, spreading his arms as if to take in the whole desolate scene around us. "They¡¯re still alive, aren¡¯t they?"


    I shook my head slowly, locking eyes with Yuri. "I''m good on that offer. In my very limited time here, I''ve realized something." My voice hardened as I spoke, the truth cutting through his denial. "This clan, Bloody Knuckle, is evil. Simple as that. No different than the current Sun." Yuri¡¯s eyes flickered with sudden interest, and he cut me off, "Sun? You dislike Sun? They''re amazing! They¡¯re everything I aspire to be!" His excitement was almost childlike, and for a moment, I saw the delusion that fueled him. My fist clenched involuntarily, the tension in my muscles mirroring the disgust rising in my chest. "That''s exactly the problem." I spat. "You all are dogs that need to die¡ªfor the betterment of everyone else."


    Yuri''s smile vanished, replaced by a dissatisfied scowl. With a simple snap of his fingers, the twenty men surrounding us sprang into action. Without hesitation, they rushed me, fists and feet flying with brutal intent. Some aimed punches at my face, others threw kicks at my sides. But I didn¡¯t move. The blows landed hard, driving into me from all directions. I felt the impact this time¡ªeach punch and kick caving in parts of my body under the relentless assault. It was the first time I felt actual damage in a fight. Gritting my teeth, I endured it. These men were weaker than Tom, but their sheer numbers and combined force made them dangerous. A small amount of blood trickled from my nose, the metallic taste sharp on my tongue. I lowered my head slightly, and my fingers shifted into spear hands. With a whisper, more to myself than anyone else, I muttered, "It¡¯s over for you all."


    I extended my arms, my body moving with a fluid precision. My hands shot forward, piercing through two men like they were paper, my arms spread completely straight. I spun on my heel, moving my feet in a perfect circle, my entire body rotating with deadly grace. Each turn brought destruction¡ªcutting through the men around me, carving their bodies apart. Blood sprayed into the air, and in moments, they lay on the ground, split clean in half. Screams erupted, but most of them died in stunned silence, unable to comprehend the speed of their demise. The courtyard was now painted in blood. I looked down at my attire, soaked in red, and sighed heavily. I''m going to have to get this cleaned. I glanced at the bodies around me, their lifeless eyes staring at nothing. There was no guilt, no hesitation. They had abused and likely killed others. What I did was justice, cold and necessary.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Muhammad and Yuri stood frozen in place, their eyes wide with shock, staring at the carnage I had just unleashed. The silence was thick, broken only by the distant sound of dripping blood. Muhammad, still trembling, slowly slipped off his jacket, his voice shaky with disbelief. "How could you?!" Yuri¡¯s expression twisted with disgust, but also resolve. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of worn gloves, swiping them onto his hands with deliberate care. "Muhammad," he growled, his voice low, almost guttural, "he¡¯s a demon. We¡¯re going all out from the start."


    I watched them both, a grin tugging at the corner of my lips. "Come on, then!" I beckoned, my voice steady, taunting. "I¡¯ll show you what it really means when I fight in earnest!" As I spoke, I noticed the subtle changes in Yuri¡¯s body. His hands began to enlarge slightly, only by a few millimeters, but the veins on his arms bulged grotesquely, like they were about to burst. I recognized it instantly¡ªReinforced Fist. It was a unique martial arts style. Practitioners hardened their fists by repeatedly striking bamboo, forming callouses, and then took it further by tensing their hand muscles to create a near-impenetrable force. Muhammad was using the same technique but in his own variation, likely customized to complement his strength.


    The two dashed toward me side by side, their movements synchronized. They were fast, faster than the grunts I had just dealt with. Muhammad reached me first, his hand slamming against my chest, trying to push me down with a well-executed maneuver. His technique was flawless, but I barely shifted under the pressure. He gritted his teeth in frustration, realizing that his throw had failed. That¡¯s Judo. Yuri was already in motion. His fist, hardened by years of Reinforced Fist training, slammed into my nose with a crack. Pain shot through my face, and I felt a warm trickle of blood as it dripped down from my nostrils. I tasted iron on my lips but kept my stance firm. A little blood wasn¡¯t going to slow me down.


    Yuri''s face twisted with frustration as he shouted, "I can destroy steel with my punches! What are you?!" His voice was a mixture of disbelief and desperation. I seized his hand mid-swing, tightening my grip until his knuckles turned white. "You got it right before.¡± I replied. Without breaking eye contact, I lifted him high into the air with ease, preparing to slam him into the ground. I felt a sudden pressure at my side. Muhammad was pushing against me again, trying desperately to disrupt my balance. I didn¡¯t budge¡ªuntil my heel caught on something small. A pebble. My foot twisted, and the imbalance was enough. I stumbled backward, Yuri still in my grip. The momentum carried me down, and I hit the ground hard, crashing onto my back. The impact jarred me, and I lost my hold on Yuri, who landed on his feet beside me.


    "Now, Muhammad!" Yuri roared, sensing his opportunity. Muhammad didn¡¯t waste a second. He grabbed hold of my foot, using his Judo training to hurl me backward with surprising strength. My body flew through the air, skimming the ground, until I was hurtling toward their blood-red HQ. I caught sight of Yuri sprinting after me, his fist pulled back, charging for a devastating blow. He moved with more ferocity than before, his eyes wild with determination. Still airborne, I faced him, keeping my posture steady despite the speed of the fall. Yuri bellowed, "Crater Punch!" His fist slammed into my chest near my heart, with far more force than I expected. The impact sent small shockwaves through my body.


    I rocketed backward, crashing through the outer wall of their HQ, and then through another, until I landed in the center of their lobby. The building crumbled around me, debris and wood splintering into the air. I lay on my back, surrounded by shattered remnants of the HQ¡¯s walls, dust clouding the air. Yuri, breathing heavily, collapsed to his knees outside, clearly exhausted from pouring everything into that final punch. His ultimate technique had taken a toll on him. As for me, I stared up at the ceiling, the chaos swirling around me. My chest throbbed where his fist had landed, but it was more of an annoyance than actual pain. I smirked to myself, brushing some wood off my shoulders. Well, I let them have their fun. They got lucky, that''s all.


    I stood up, brushing the debris from my shoulders, shaking off the dust like it was nothing. My eyes flicked to Yuri, still kneeling in exhaustion. I formed a spear hand, feeling the weight of the air as it parted under my fingers. "Cool ultimate technique, man," I said, my voice laced with sarcasm. "had a lot of power behind it. Now, it''s my turn." Yuri blinked, his fatigue slowing his reaction. But as his eyelids shut, I moved. In an instant, I was in his blind spot¡ªhis eight o¡¯clock¡ªmy movements silent and lethal. I yelled, "Severed Soul!" mimicking his own yelling of techniques. My hand sliced downward, cutting through flesh and bone like butter. Yuri didn¡¯t even have time to scream as his body split in two, organs spilling out. Blood pooled around his severed form, staining the ground beneath us. I stood over his lifeless remains, wiping the blood from my hand. Well, that¡¯s the end of him. Then, a sharp blow landed on the back of my head. My vision flickered briefly, and I staggered forward, again, more out of surprise than pain. Slowly, I turned to face the attacker, my eyes narrowing into a cold, menacing stare.


    "You want it too?" I growled, my voice low, dripping with threat. Muhammad, trembling, leaned back, fear written all over his face. I didn¡¯t wait for an answer. I screamed again, "Severed Soul!" My spear hand came down like a guillotine, slicing him cleanly in half. This time, there was no mess¡ªno spilled organs, just a clean cut, his two body parts falling together. I glanced down at the bodies, wiping a speck of blood from my cheek. To be honest, Bloody Knuckle wasn¡¯t strong at all. I reflected silently, stepping over Yuri¡¯s remains. Only four members were worth anything, and only two of them had something unique, like Reinforced Fist. They must¡¯ve learned it from some fraud.


    I turned back toward the building. There were no innocents nearby, no civilians caught in the crossfire, and no other structures that might be collateral. Just this decrepit shell of a headquarters. I formed another spear hand, holding it at my side, and sliced horizontally through the air. The building groaned, splitting in two, and collapsed with a thunderous crash as it slid into rubble. Satisfied, I took a deep breath, then yelled as loud as I could, "Hey, everyone! Bloody Knuckle is no more! Jiambou owns this area now, and they¡¯ll treat you great!" Slowly, cautiously, people emerged from their hiding places, stepping out of buildings with expressions of disbelief. One man, emerging from a small house, called out, "Are you¡­ serious?" I nodded. "Yes. There might be a few stragglers, but their top brass are all defeated. Jiambou will clean up the rest and help you rebuild." The man covered his mouth, tears streaming down his face, "Thank you¡­ whoever you are." I turned my back on the crumbling remains of Bloody Knuckle¡¯s HQ and started walking toward the bridge to meet up with Jiambou. Without looking back, I called over my shoulder, "No problem."


    I was wrong. I do have feelings in this conflict.

 Grace

    As I approached the structure of Jiambex, the atmosphere around me felt tense. The destruction I had left in my wake still lingered, the aftermath visible in the torn streets and smoldering rubble. The eyes of the women I passed were drawn to me, some gazing with undisguised curiosity or desire, while others shrank back, fear stark in their expressions. Their reactions were justified. I had done things¡ªthings that could haunt them if they knew the full extent. I swallowed the awkwardness rising in my chest as I moved through the scattered remnants of chaos, keeping my gaze forward. I pulled it open, the quiet murmur of the lobby greeting me. The space was eerily empty, save for one figure lounging in a chair¡ªJane. Her usually sharp eyes were closed, her breathing soft, lost in the deep embrace of sleep. It was odd seeing her like that, vulnerable and at peace, unaware of the world around her. Mary''s voice called out from the back, a low but commanding tone. "They''re cleaning up the stragglers right now. Come inside."


    Jane stirred, slowly awakening at the sound of Mary¡¯s voice. Her eyes fluttered open, scanning the room in a haze of sleep before settling on me. A shy wave followed, her voice light. "Hey, Vellin." Her casual greeting caught me off guard. I hadn¡¯t expected her to know me by name. I raised my hand in a slight gesture, showing my palm as if to halt her. "Wait, how do you know my name?" Jane blinked a few times, shaking her hands in the air nervously. "Mary told me, haha." Her laugh was a bit forced, as if trying to ease the awkwardness, but I caught a hint of genuine amusement. I took a measured step forward, my eyes narrowing slightly. "I''m coming inside, Mary,"


    I walked into the backroom, the air felt heavier here, thick with tension and the scent of old wood. The dim light cast shadows that flickered across the room¡¯s sparse decor, highlighting Mary, who sat calmly in the center. She didn¡¯t look surprised to see me; instead, she raised a hand, gesturing to the empty chair across from her. "A seat, please," she said, her voice steady, as if she had been expecting me. I hesitated for a moment but complied, pulling out the chair and sitting down without the usual resistance. Mary seemed to take note of that, her sharp eyes glinting with curiosity at my sudden compliance. She is observant, picking up on details I hadn¡¯t realized I was showing.


    Jane entered the room quietly, almost as if she hoped to slip in unnoticed. But Mary, ever perceptive, turned her head towards her, a slight frown tugging at her lips. "Why are you back here, Jane?" Her voice was firm, with just a hint of impatience. Jane stopped in her tracks, her hands clasped in front of her as she pleaded, "Please, Mary. I just want to listen." The room was silent for a beat as Mary considered her request. Then, she turned back to me, her expression softening slightly. "Is that fine with you, Vellin?" she asked, her voice now carrying a tone of casual indifference, as though my opinion didn''t truly matter but she would ask anyway.


    I glanced at Jane for a moment, her eager yet nervous energy filling the room. I shrugged. "Yes. She''s a good person, I think?" I said, uncertainty lacing my words. Was I just being polite? I wasn¡¯t sure myself. Mary let out a short, amused laugh, her fingers brushing her lips. "You think? Well, close enough." The playful glint in her eyes quickly faded as she shifted back into business mode. "Anyways, onto business." She crossed her fingers together, resting them on the table in front of her, and her entire demeanor sharpened. "I had one of my members tail you through their territory and report back to me about your strength."


    I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms casually as if this were all routine to me. "What did they say?" I asked, a small smirk playing on my lips. Mary¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver. "They said you tore them apart while taking minimal damage," she began, but then paused, tilting her head slightly as if correcting herself. "though ¡®minimal¡¯ might be too strong a word. She said the only damage you took was a nosebleed." I couldn¡¯t help but smile, leaning forward slightly. "That''s right. I am quite powerful, after all." The words came out with the sort of confidence that bordered on arrogance, but it was true. My strength spoke for itself.


    Mary snapped her fingers, a sharp, loud sound that echoed in the room. "Egotistical, too," she said with a grin, not unkindly. "but that''s fine, because you have the strength to back it up." Without missing a beat, she reached down to the floor beside her, pulling up a small wooden box. She opened it, and inside were twelve gleaming gold coins, their polished surfaces beautiful. I could feel my pulse quicken at the sight. From what Zero told me, I calculated quickly¡ªten bronze coins equaled one silver, ten silver made one gold. A single bronze could buy enough bread and water for a few meals. The Burnout Tournament¡¯s entry fee was ten gold coins. Yeah, I was more than good.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    I reached out for the coins, my fingers just inches from the gold, then stopped myself. "Twelve is two too high. I only asked for ten." I said, glancing up at Mary. She didn¡¯t budge, her expression resolute as she sat firm in her chair. "Consider it a gift from me. You saved us. Honestly, you deserve much more." Jane chimed in, her voice more earnest than I had ever heard it. "She''s right. We might''ve been killed, or... worse." The weight of what could have happened suddenly becoming more real. They were going to lose if I didn''t help. I pulled my hand back, letting it rest on my knee as my face grew serious. My gaze dropped to the floor, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to reflect on everything I¡¯d seen. "I¡¯m sorry about what I said earlier," I muttered, my voice quieter now. "telling you I had no feelings in this conflict... That was wrong. When I went to the west side, I saw unrepentant evil firsthand." I paused, my words catching in my throat as the memories resurfaced. "I only did this for money at first. But if I went back in time, I¡¯d do it for free."


    I felt it then¡ªan intense glare boring into the back of my head. Mary said, "You know," she started, her tone softer but laced with a strange mix of pride and amusement, "when you first came in and explained your motivations, I thought of you neutrally. Sure, you were doing good, but for a ''selfish'' reason. Strong as you are, you didn¡¯t seem to have the character to match." She leaned back slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I¡¯m glad to see I was wrong."


    Jane nodded fervently, her expression filled with something close to admiration. "When I attacked you, you could¡¯ve killed me easily. You had the power to, but you spared me." She paused, as if choosing her words carefully. "Damning with faint praise, I know. But people at your martial level... they rarely forgive those sorts of things. It''s unusual." I stood up, "That needs to change." I said, my voice firmer now. "People with the power to end a life should rarely do so. It¡¯s a responsibility, not a privilege." I rubbed the back of my head, but then, my thoughts shifted to something darker, something that still gnawed at the edges of my conscience. "Bloody Knuckle is an exception," I muttered, my voice dropping low again. "those people¡­ they¡¯re just like Sun."


    Mary''s eyes narrowed as she stared at me, the intensity in her voice rising. "You don''t like Sun?" she asked, her tone probing, almost as if she were testing me. I raised my head and met her gaze, my voice cold and firm. "No. I''m going to reform it, or destroy it. I needed the money so I could enter the Burnout Tournament." Mary''s reaction was instant¡ªshe slammed her hands onto the table, the loud crack echoing through the room. "You can''t do that on your own!" Her voice was sharp. "How about you just relax for a while, or become a mercenary?" Before I could respond, I felt Jane¡¯s hand on my shoulder, her touch light but filled with worry. Her eyes searched mine, soft with concern. "Why don''t you just stay with us?" she asked gently, her voice almost pleading. I clenched my jaw, the words biting at the back of my throat. "Why don''t you just¡ª" I stopped and shifted my gaze to Mary, "mind your own business?" Jane¡¯s grip tightened, and her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "I''m not going to let you go and kill yourself." she said, the weight of her emotions pouring into her words.


    I pushed out of the chair, the sudden movement causing a gust of wind to ripple through the room as I made my way toward the shelves. I crossed my arms, leaning back against them, my expression resolute. "I won¡¯t die," I told them both, my voice unyielding. "I can do it." Mary was the first to spot where I had moved, but even she seemed a bit slow to react. Jane took a few more moments, her eyes finally landing on me. Mary let out a groan and facepalmed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Ugh. Men really are insane." I glanced over at Jane, who had begun to tear up, her lower lip trembling. "Not you too¡­" she muttered, her voice breaking.


    Jane suddenly charged at me, her arms spread wide like she was going to tackle me. Instinct kicked in, and I sidestepped her effortlessly, watching as she stumbled and tripped right into the shelves behind me. I blinked, confused. What was she doing? Jane turned to me, her expression shifting to one of hurt and anger. "You asshole! I was going to give you a hug!" she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. I threw my hands up in exasperation, my own frustration bubbling over. "You just charged at me! What was I supposed to do?!" Jane, her face flushed, still bent down, declared, "You saved my life, and so many others! If you''re dead set on taking down Sun, then I''m going with you!"

 Bloody Destruction

    Vellin (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Zero (Artist: SaileenDraws)


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    <hr>


    Vellin leaving Mount Sinai (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Bloody Yuri (Artist: Griaciel)


    <hr>


    Jane (Artist: YibYob)

 Carriage

    A few hours later..


    "I still don''t know how you convinced me to let you come along." I said, settling into the soft, slightly worn seat of the slow-moving carriage. The gentle creaking of the wooden wheels was a constant background noise, and the occasional jostle barely disturbed the ride. The carriage itself was surprisingly nice, with a clean white cover stretched taut over the top, shielding us from the midday sun that blazed overhead. Sunlight filtered through the sides of the canvas, casting soft, shifting beams of light across the inside as we passed through trees and open fields.


    Jane sat across from me, her body relaxed as she leaned back into her seat, one arm draped casually over the edge of an opening, fingers brushing the air as we passed by. The path we traveled was smooth for the most part, save for a few dips and bumps that made the wooden frame groan quietly beneath us. "I paid for the ride, and I supplied the carriage. You weren''t going to walk there." she said, her voice carrying a hint of smugness as she glanced at me through half-lidded eyes. I shrugged, looking out at the passing landscape. "Maybe. Might''ve stocked up on food. It''s so... troublesome." I muttered, the thought of walking long distances already tiring me. I leaned back into my seat, letting my head rest against the wooden frame as I watched the trees go by, the wind offering brief moments of relief from the heat. Jane shifted, turning over so her back faced me now. "Wow, I didn''t know you hated me that much." she said, hurt. Oh, damn it. I made a mistake.


    I put my hands down by my sides, fingers curling into the fabric of the seat as I tried to steady myself. "Sorry, I didn''t mean that. I just haven¡¯t talked to many people. You¡¯re the fifth person I¡¯ve talked to, and the first woman." Jane remained turned away, her posture stiff as the carriage rolled on. "First woman? You look like you¡¯re in your twenties," she said, her voice softer now, like she was mulling it over. I blinked, feeling a little sheepish. "Yeah, I just turned twenty a few days ago." Jane shifted again, this time rolling back over to face me, her eyes meeting mine with a peculiar, almost wistful look. Her lips curved into a faint smile, though it seemed more like she was pondering something distant. "First woman, huh?" she murmured with a soft laugh, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Haha... I like that."


    She caught herself, her expression quickly shifting back to one of composure, as though she was trying to rein in whatever had flashed across her mind. "As you were saying, though, I¡¯m the fifth person you¡¯ve talked to? What kind of life have you lived?" I glanced out the open back of the carriage, watching the dusty road stretch behind us, the distant hills rising and falling with the rhythm of the journey. "I don¡¯t know," I said quietly, the weight of the question hanging in the warm air. I sensed a sudden shift. The sound of quick movement stirred, and in an instant, something knocked me off balance. My back hit the wooden floor of the carriage with a thud, the sun overhead momentarily blotted out as Jane hovered above me on all fours, her figure casting a shadow over my face.


    She loomed closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity and something else I couldn¡¯t quite place. "How does this make you feel? Do you know this, at least?" Her voice was low, almost teasing, but there was an intensity to the way she held herself, like she was searching for something in me. My heart raced, each beat pounding in my chest as I stared up at her. Her presence was overwhelming, her proximity throwing my thoughts into disarray. I opened my mouth, trying to form an answer, but all I could do was search her gaze, confused by the swirl of emotions rising in me. I¡­ don¡¯t know how this makes me feel. "I¡­ don¡¯t know, sorry." I admitted.


    Suddenly, the carriage lurched to an abrupt halt. Jane''s eyes were still locked on me, clearly expecting some kind of answer, but something was off. The driver had no reason to stop until sundown. My pulse quickened as unease settled in my chest. Carefully, I shifted Jane aside, making sure to be gentle, so she wouldn¡¯t misinterpret it as a rude gesture. I leaned in close to her ear, my breath barely a whisper, "The carriage rider was told not to stop until sundown. Something''s going on. Stay silent for a second." Her expression shifted from curious to cautious, and I could feel the tension between us shift into something much sharper. Closing my eyes, I focused, straining to listen to the sounds outside. The quiet creak of the carriage, the rustling of trees in the distance, and then voices. The carriage rider was talking to someone.


    "Eep! Who are you people?" his voice trembled with fear. Another voice, much deeper and gruff, responded, "You don''t need to know. Just give us two gold and we''ll let ya go." I frowned. The carriage rider protested, "Two gold?! That''s the pay I earn in three months!" The deep-voiced man interrupted harshly, "I don''t care!" There was a sudden swoosh in the air¡ªa sound unmistakable to me. A weapon, possibly a sword, being drawn. The man added menacingly, "Give it, or you die." Jane yelped, "Vellin!" Her voice rang out in panic, snapping my focus back to the present.


    What? I turned sharply toward the open back of the carriage, my eyes locking onto a man standing a few paces away. He wore a tattered bandana over his head, his face obscured, and in his hands, a bow, the string drawn tight. The arrow was primed and aimed¡ªat Jane. Bastard! My thoughts raced, my mind calculating the trajectory of the arrow with terrifying precision. He grinned, a sick quip escaping his lips, "Sorry about your girlfriend, loser." Time seemed to slow as he released the string. The arrow shot forward with deadly speed, slicing through the air directly toward Jane. She didn¡¯t move, frozen in place, but I did. I primed my spear hand and, with a swift motion, sliced the arrow clean in two mid-flight. The pieces of the arrow scattered, but my heart sank as I realized one half had still grazed Jane¡¯s cheek. Blood welled up from the cut, and I spun around to see her clutching her face, her hand stained red. Her cheek was bleeding profusely. A tear rolled down her face, mingling with the blood.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    You won''t recover from this.


    I sprang off my legs, launching myself at the man like a coiled spring releasing all its tension in one furious motion. My shoulder slammed into his chest, and we both crashed to the ground. His bow flew from his hands, clattering away, useless now. I seized his shirt collar, fully mounting him, my knees digging into his sides. He wasn¡¯t escaping, not from this position. I didn¡¯t want to end him immediately. Where¡¯s the satisfaction in that? My fist curled tight, knuckles turning white, and with a swift motion, I slammed it into his nose. A sickening crack echoed out, his nose breaking cleanly from the force. His face contorted in pain, but it wasn''t enough¡ªno, it wasn¡¯t bloody enough. I raised my arm again, the adrenaline coursing through me like fire, and this time, I drove my fist into his chest. He let out a choking cough, spitting blood, his scream cutting through the air. "Help, guys! He''s got me!" His voice cracked, desperate, but there was no one who could save him from this. You want it quicker? Fine. My fist collided with his stomach, and he gasped, curling slightly under me. I followed it up with a brutal strike to his thigh, feeling the impact reverberate up my arm. His body shuddered beneath me, barely able to respond.


    Movement flickered in my peripheral vision¡ªa new threat. One of his comrades, sword drawn, was rushing toward me. He lunged forward, aiming for a clean thrust. Instinctively, I bent my back, the blade narrowly missing me as I twisted my body out of its path. With a snap of my leg, I kicked out to the side, my foot connecting with his chest. He flew backward, crashing to the ground with a grunt, his sword clattering to the dirt beside me. I grabbed the sword. I looked down at the man pinned beneath me, eyes wide with terror. I twirled the blade once, then pointed it at his throat. "Want the sword, or my hand?" My voice was calm, but the threat was clear. His eyes darted between the sword and me, thinking he was clever. "Your hand! Your hand!" he spat out, believing he had some kind of upper hand in the situation.


    I drove my hand through his skull, the piercing force of my fingers tearing through bone and flesh with brutal efficiency. Blood and brain matter sprayed out, painting the ground in a gruesome display. Before I could pull my hand back, a foot suddenly materialized in front of my eyes. I raised my forearm instinctively to block, but the force behind it was immense. What? The impact was stronger than anything I''d felt before. My body was flung to the side, rolling through the grass before I could recover. My muscles are sore? I stood, wiping dirt and blood from my clothes. I looked up, my eyes narrowing at the man before me. He was built like a boulder¡ªthick, solid muscle rippling across his frame, more intimidating than even Yuri. A dull ache radiated from my arm where he¡¯d kicked me, a vivid red bruise already forming. He is.. dozens of times stronger than Yuri.


    "Who are you?" I asked, angered beyond belief. He clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking ominously. "Tarkun, leader of the Jiggit Bandits. Stupid name, I know, but it was coined by my childhood friend." His gaze drifted down to the mangled corpse lying on the ground, the one I had just ended with my bare hand. His face darkened. "And now I¡¯m looking at his corpse." I sneered, flashing him a wicked smile. "Spare me your pity party, bastard. He attacked us unprovoked, and he hurt Jane!" Tarkun¡¯s face twisted with rage, and he bellowed, "I will avenge him!"


    He charged at me with good speed, but I was already one step ahead. In an instant, I closed the distance, my body moving faster than his eyes could follow. My voice rang out as I roared, "Piercing Hand Technique #2: Mangled Flesh!" This technique¡ªone of the most lethal moves Zero had taught me¡ªwas a barrage of rapid, precise stabs that could shred a person apart. Trained to perfection, it targeted the most vital points: the left pectoral, right pectoral, head, hands, knees, and thighs. When executed properly, no one could stand in its wake. I felt my fingers begin to tear through his flesh.


    Tarkun stood, his body riddled with nine brutal holes, each perfectly placed by the Mangled Flesh technique. Blood poured from the wounds, his muscles shredded, his form collapsing under the weight of the damage. His eyes glazed over, and he fell to the ground. I didn¡¯t have time to relish the victory¡ªJane needed me. I rushed toward the back opening of the carriage, "Jane?" I called, scanning frantically. She wasn¡¯t there. Where is she?! I dashed around to the other side of the carriage, and there she was.


    Jane stood tall, her foot planted firmly on the chest of one last bandit, pinning him to the ground. His right arm was twisted and mangled beneath her boot, and with a final stomp, she crushed it, eliciting a pained scream from the man. I sprinted toward her, my hands grabbing her shoulders with urgency. "Are you okay?!" I asked, breathless. Her cheek was still bleeding¡ªor at least I thought it was. Without warning, Jane slapped me hard across the face. My head snapped to the side, the sting of her hand leaving my skin hot. "Focus, Vellin!" she snapped, her voice sharp and commanding. Stunned, I blinked, my mind trying to catch up. Why did she do that? I turned back to her, my eyes wide in confusion, but when I looked at her cheek again, the cut was just a scratch.


    "What?!" I stammered, staring at her in disbelief. "How?! It was such a large cut!" She sighed softly, her eyes softening as she shook her head. "You fool¡­ you hallucinated more damage than there was. I was barely scratched. You saved me again." Her voice was calm, almost amused, as if I had overreacted. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, her lips warm against my skin. She whispered, her voice laced with a tenderness I hadn¡¯t expected, "You might not know what your feelings are, but I know mine."

 Rest

    Wait, is she coming onto me? I recalled the lessons from Zero¡¯s books about different character archetypes. What was it again? Oh yeah, the deredere¡­ A warm, affectionate personality, often eager to express their feelings openly. It made sense, but now that I was in the moment, I didn¡¯t know how to respond. My heart was pounding, and I was lost in thought, trying to make sense of it. A tap on my shoulder jolted me back to reality. I snapped my head around, and Jane¡¯s playful expression shifted to something more somber as the world came crashing back in. The carriage driver, Albert, was standing there, a look of gratitude on his face. He reached out, shaking my hand vigorously. "Thank you so much, Vellin! You beat those guys to a pulp!" he exclaimed, his voice full of relief. I shook his hand firmly, offering a small smile. "No problem, Albert. But I thought this route was supposed to be safe?"


    Albert¡¯s face fell, and he looked away, his expression darkening. "I thought it was... This country is becoming more violent by the day." His grip on my hand tightened, and his voice dropped to a more pleading tone. "I¡¯m sorry to ask this, but could you ride with me for maybe three more miles? Then we can rest?" I hesitated for a moment, turning to Jane for her opinion. She met my gaze and gave a nod. "That¡¯s fine, Albert. You¡¯re not used to this kind of stuff, so take it easy if you need to," she said, her tone reassuring. Albert tipped his hat gratefully. "Thank you, Ms. Jane." With that, he returned to the front, taking hold of the reins once more. I slipped my hands into my pockets, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened settling in. "Let¡¯s leave this behind," I muttered, walking toward the back of the carriage. Jane followed, silently falling in step beside me. We climbed into the back, sitting down as Albert gave a loud roar of triumph. "Goodbye, Jiggit Bandits!" he shouted, shaking the reins with newfound vigor. The horses neighed, and the carriage began to move again, the sound of their hooves clip-clopping against the dirt road.


    One hour later..


    Albert pulled the reins and shouted, "This is our stop!" I glanced outside¡ªit was close to sundown. He had parked the carriage alongside the road, nestled just next to a few sparse trees. While I would have preferred to push on a little further, this spot would suffice. Stepping out, I slung my bag over my shoulder, feeling the weight shift as I adjusted it. Albert, ever observant, poked at the bag and said, "Unless you¡¯ve got some wood in there, we¡¯ll need to find some for a fire." Wood... right, I thought, realizing we still had a bit of work to do before settling down.


    I handed my bag over to Jane. "Find what food you want to eat tonight. I¡¯m going to get some logs and firewood. Set up some rocks in a circle for the fire, too." Jane took the bag with a nod. "Alright," she said as she began sorting through it. I turned my attention to a nearby tree. Its thick trunk would provide all the wood we needed. My right arm drooped to my side as I began gathering my strength. I could feel the familiar hum of energy coursing through my muscles as I prepared to use the sixth technique, Mingling Cuts. My fingers straightened like blades, sharp and focused.


    Raising my arms perpendicular to one another, I held my breath, feeling the tension in the air. With precise control, I struck. One cut. Two cuts. The wood split cleanly under my hands, bark shattering and falling away. Four cuts. Eight cuts. Faster! I pushed myself, my arms blurring into a flurry of motion. Sixteen cuts. Thirty-two cuts. The tree was no match for the technique¡¯s sheer speed and precision. Sixty-four cuts, one hundred and twelve cuts! I let out a deep breath as the last slice cut through the bark, leaving the ground littered with thin, even pieces of kindling. I bent down, gathering the small logs and twigs in my arms, more than enough to keep a fire burning for hours.


    When I returned to the makeshift camp, Jane had already set up the stone circle, just as I asked. We didn¡¯t have chairs or much else, but it was functional. I dropped the kindling in the middle of the stone circle and turned to Jane. "Did you pick out what you wanted?" I asked, nodding toward the bag. She gave a sly smile and dropped the bag behind her, revealing the prize she¡¯d chosen: "This beautiful steak. It¡¯ll go bad soon, so we should eat it now."


    I glanced at the slab of meat¡ªjuicy and ready for a fire. "Good choice." I said, but then realized something. We still need larger wood for the fire. I spun around and dashed toward another tree, wasting no time. My fist smashed into its thick trunk, leaving a sizable indent. I punched it again, loosening pieces of wood until four smaller logs snapped free. Perfect for cooking. I hefted the wood over my shoulder and hurled it toward Jane¡¯s feet. "Give me one moment," I said, getting ready to light the fire and make sure everything was prepared for the night ahead.


    I returned to the tree, slicing it once more. As it creaked and fell, I glanced up and executed a perfect cut mid-fall, splitting the trunk cleanly in half. Without missing a beat, I caught the two heavy logs on my shoulders and carried them back to the campsite, dropping one next to Jane. ¡°Our seat.¡± I said with a smirk. She glanced at the log and nodded appreciatively, continuing to work on setting up the firewood. I moved over to where Albert was rummaging through his things. Tapping him lightly on the shoulder, I got his attention. He turned around, eyes wide as I dropped the second log in front of him. ¡°This is your seat.¡± I said simply. Albert staggered a bit, clearly surprised by my casual strength, but he quickly sat down, still processing. ¡°Thanks,¡± he mumbled, his awe not going unnoticed.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Meanwhile, Jane had already started arranging the wood atop the kindling I had prepared. I crouched down, took a small piece, and swiped my hand across it. The speed and friction from the movement created a spark, and I tossed the burning wood into the center of the fire pit. In seconds, the flames roared to life. Jane crossed her arms, tilting her head in curiosity. ¡°You can create fire?¡± she asked, sounding impressed. I chuckled, shaking my head. ¡°No, not exactly. I can move fast¡ªhundreds of meters per second at my level. A swipe of my hand with enough effort generates enough heat to start a fire. It¡¯s just physics.¡± I said with a grin, brushing off the feat as if it were nothing. She raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but didn¡¯t push further. Instead, she waved the steak in the air. ¡°Well, no more talking until we eat!¡± I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± I replied, smiling as I settled down, ready to enjoy the meal and recharge before discussing the journey ahead.


    Twenty minutes later..


    The fire crackled and burned brightly in front of us, its warm light casting flickering shadows. I tore into the steak with my hands, not caring much about manners¡ªold habits from living with Zero. Jane, on the other hand, ate with grace, using the fork and knife she¡¯d smartly packed. Even Albert, despite eating with his hands, somehow managed to look more dignified than I did. Jane smirked, her eyes flicking toward me as she cut into her steak. "You eat a bit funny." she teased. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Didn''t exactly get a lot of lessons in manners where I grew up." I admitted, a little more self-conscious than I wanted to be. Dropping the steak onto the plate in front of me, I decided it was time to get serious. I leaned forward, staring intently at her. "Let''s talk about Sun."


    Hearing the shift in tone, Jane placed her fork down, her face more focused. "Alright." she replied, her gaze steady. The stars were just beginning to peek out, dotting the night sky with faint glimmers of light. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to explain what she needed to know. "There are three ranks in Sun," I began, my voice steady. "At the top, you have the Five Flames¡ªthese are the strongest members. They¡¯ve got unlimited authority. Below them are the officers, each one controlling their own group of soldiers. And then there are the soldiers themselves. They¡¯re the lowest rank, but don¡¯t underestimate them. They¡¯re still strong, stronger than most outside of Sun."


    Jane listened carefully, her attention fully on me as I spoke. I could feel the weight of my words, knowing what I was preparing for. "You can join Sun the normal way," I continued, "by generating more than a thousand pounds of force on a punching machine. But then there¡¯s the Burnout Tournament. The winner automatically becomes an officer. There¡¯s a rumor that if you win, you can challenge one of the Flames. If you beat them, you take their place. If you lose, however, you forfeit your officer rank entirely and start as a soldier." I clenched my fist, my hatred growing as I spoke. "When I win the tournament, I plan to challenge one of the Flames."


    Jane asked, "How strong are they?" I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "That''s an interesting question." I started, buying myself a little time as I mulled it over. "My master, in his prime, was on par with the strongest Flame, the Demon Buddha." Jane couldn¡¯t hold back her scoff. "Dumbass nickname. Are you as strong as your master in his prime?" she muttered, rolling her eyes. I clicked my tongue, trying to stay focused despite her reaction. "Yeah. My master said I was as strong as he was in his prime, but..." I paused, my expression growing serious. "my master was beaten easily by the leader of Sun." Jane cut me off. "Leo. Everyone knows him. Who is your master anyway?"


    I shifted slightly, grabbing another quick bite of my steak before responding. "Can''t say," I replied through a mouthful of food. I chewed and swallowed, then continued, "but I''m hoping in this tournament I can improve even further." Leaning back, I grabbed a rag and began wiping down my plate, trying to clear away the remnants of the meal. I glanced at her as I spoke again. "That''s what I wanted to tell you. Are you sure you still want to come along?" Jane sighed, her gaze steady as she answered, "Of course I do. I''m not weak." I winced slightly, realizing how my words could¡¯ve been taken. Shaking my head quickly, I tried to clarify, "No, no. I didn''t mean that¡ª" She cut me off again, but this time her voice was softer, more understanding. "I know what you meant. You''re just worried. You showcased that when the bandits attacked us."


    Her eyes seemed to focus more intently, almost as if she had decided something in that moment. "How about you train me?" I blinked, taken slightly off guard by her request. The words left my mouth almost instinctively. ".. I can''t make you as strong as me, but I can certainly increase your defensive and offensive capabilities, endurance, and stamina tenfold." The look of excitement in her eyes was unmistakable. She wrapped her arms around me, squeezing tightly. "Yes, thank you! I''ll work hard!" The sudden contact made my face flush, but I hesitated for only a second before I returned the hug, my arms encircling her in a firm, reassuring embrace.

 Control

    Four days later..


    Albert roared from the front, his voice booming over the rattling of the carriage wheels, "We''re almost there! I see it in the distance." His excitement cut through the tension that had been building during our long journey. I leaned back, finally letting out a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding, "You hear that, Jane? We''re finally here." My words were meant to lighten the mood, but Jane didn¡¯t turn around. She remained focused on the road stretching out behind us, her face set in a quiet frustration. "Did you have to push me that hard during training?" she asked, her voice low, and I could sense the weight behind the question. I studied her for a moment, my gaze lingering on the nape of her neck, a reminder of how fragile she still was in some ways. "Yes, I did." I said, my tone firm but not unkind. "Since your body isn¡¯t as developed as mine, I had to teach you how to target the ''bone behind muscle'' of an opponent. With this technique, you¡¯ll be able to defend yourself with minimal effort now." She rolled up her sleeve, revealing the faint scars that marred her skin. The marks were thin but visible, a testament to the hard hours of training. "These scars won¡¯t heal completely." she muttered, more to herself than to me.


    I shook my head slowly. "No," I admitted, feeling a pang of guilt that I quickly pushed aside. "I know a way to get rid of scars, if you''d like." The offer was genuine, though I wasn¡¯t sure if she would take it. Scars carried stories, and some were harder to let go of than others. The carriage lurched to a halt, and Albert¡¯s voice rang out again from the front, "We''re here! Come to the front." His voice had the same sense of urgency, but now it held the promise of something more¡ªour destination, at last. We stepped out, and the scene that greeted us was overwhelming¡ªthough I could only muster a single thought. Wow.


    A massive stone gate loomed before me, flanked by two towering structures on each corner. It was imposing, a symbol of strength and authority. They put a wall around this entire city? The sheer scale of it was impressive, almost intimidating. Two archers stood atop the towers, their arrows notched as they eyed us with thinly veiled contempt. Below them, two heavily armored gate guards¡ªeach one built like a mountain¡ªwere deep in conversation with Albert. Their armor clinked softly as they moved, their faces hidden beneath visors, making them seem more like statues than men.


    Albert gestured back toward me, his voice loud and clear, "I don¡¯t want to enter. He and his girlfriend does. I just escorted them." His nonchalant tone made it sound like this was routine, but it was anything but for us. I stepped forward, my boots crunching against the gravel path, "He¡¯s correct." I said simply. A part of me wanted to correct him about Jane¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t worth the trouble. Besides, the last thing I needed was a pointless argument over semantics at the gate of a fortified city.


    The guard nearest to us turned his gaze toward me, sizing me up from head to toe with a critical eye. "You want to enter this city?" His tone was flat, but I could sense the underlying skepticism. I nodded, keeping my voice calm. "Yes. I want to enter. I paid an escort for that reason." He gave a half-shrug, as if the decision didn¡¯t matter to him one way or the other. "Well, just a fair warning¡ªanyone who commits crimes worse than robbery gets sentenced to immediate execution." His words were as cold as the steel sword hanging from his waist. With a casual flick of his hand, he signaled up to the archers. "Open the gate. They can come in."


    The archers moved, and with the loud groan of ancient gears, the massive gate began to creak open. I reached into my bag, pulling out a shiny golden coin, its surface gleaming in the light. With a quick flick of my thumb, I sent it spinning through the air. Albert caught it with ease, smirking as he pocketed it. "Keep it," I said. It was a simple token of thanks, but it meant we wouldn¡¯t owe him any further favors down the line. Jane scurried up to my side, glancing nervously at the bustling city beyond the gate. "You have everything?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was an edge of uncertainty to it. I nodded, though I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was about to change. "Yeah." I replied.


    We left Albert and the city¡¯s towering entrance behind, the heavy stone gate closing with an audible thud. As soon as we stepped into the heart of the city, I was struck by the difference a well-run clan could make. The streets were clean, the air felt lighter, and the people around us seemed... content. Not just surviving, but thriving. The buildings were sturdy, well-maintained, their facades gleaming in the midday light. No signs of decay or ruin, just the quiet hum of prosperity.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I turned to Jane, breaking the comfortable silence. "Which clan owns this city again?" I asked, genuinely curious. This kind of order wasn¡¯t something you saw every day. She rolled her eyes, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The Fist of God," she replied with a slight edge in her voice. "a religious clan. They run all of the fighting events here. No competition." The Fist of God? That was new to me. "A religious clan?" I pressed, trying to piece together how faith and violence coexisted in a city like this. Jane scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "They worship strength," she explained. "it makes sense they own the fighting capital of the country."


    I nodded slowly. A clan that worships strength. Of course, in a city where fighting was both a sport and a way of life, such a clan would have absolute control. They didn¡¯t just rule through force; they dominated through belief. We weaved through the crowd, maneuvering around citizens as we made our way toward our destination¡ªthe Burnout Tournament. The ancient colosseum where champions were made, or broken. I¡¯d only heard about it before, in whispers and stories passed around by fighters. Zero had mentioned it more than once¡ªhow he¡¯d been crowned leader of Sun there, in front of a roaring audience. Things had sadly changed since then. Even Leo, who had stolen Sun from Zero, used this place to recruit new blood for the clan. The audacity of it all still rankled me.


    We neared the colosseum, a whole crowd had gathered at the front. The entrance wasn¡¯t open yet, but there was a commotion¡ªfaint sounds of fighting coming from somewhere inside. Maybe practice bouts, or something more sinister. Either way, I couldn¡¯t focus on that. I stood there, staring up at the massive stone structure. Despite its age, it was still a marvel. The wear and tear of time had left its mark, sure, but the architectural prowess was undeniable. It was a monument to power, and it radiated authority. Jane crossed her arms beside me, her expression impatient. "Let''s wrap this up," she said, tapping her foot. "We need to find a place to stay." I patted her gently on the back, offering a reassuring smile. "You''re right. Stay here. This will be quick." I rolled my shoulders, stretching out my arms as I prepared to dive into the crowd. I don¡¯t know how they decide who¡¯s worthy of entering, but it¡¯s always the same¡ªif you want a shot, you have to prove it with your fists. With that, I squeezed into the throng of people.


    Ah, that¡¯s what they were doing. The crowd parted slightly, and I got a clearer view of the spectacle unfolding in front of me. Three men were fighting desperately against a woman of similar build, but she was toying with them¡ªdodging every single blow. One of the men lunged forward, throwing a right straight, but she sidestepped to the right as if it was second nature. In an instant, another fighter aimed a front kick at her blind spot, hoping to catch her off guard. But before the kick could land, she flipped onto her hands with incredible speed, dodging the attack effortlessly. I watched in quiet awe. She¡¯s two times as strong as Jane, maybe more.


    Without wasting a second, I pushed past one of the civilians in the crowd. "Excuse me." I muttered, making my way closer to the action. The woman taunted her opponents, a playful smirk on her face. "You can''t even hit me? You''re not worthy of entering this tournament!" Her voice was laced with mockery as she spun gracefully, turning into a cyclone of kicks that sent all three men flying backward. She landed lightly on her feet, like a predator waiting for the next challenger. "Anyone else?" she asked, her eyes scanning the crowd. I raised my hand, my voice steady. "Me."


    Her gaze snapped to mine, and she licked her lips, her grin widening. "You seem worth the trouble." she said, eyes narrowing with excitement. "Don¡¯t go easy on me just because I¡¯m a girl, or else you¡¯ll regret it." I nodded, but before I could respond, I asked the obvious question. "Uh, but how do I win and enter? I just got here." She stomped the ground hard, the impact sending a small tremor through the stone beneath us. "If you can so much as touch me¡ªan officer in Sun¡ªyou can enter." Her voice was confident, almost daring me to try. She stepped in close, closing the distance between us until we were chest to chest. I could feel the intensity radiating off her. She smirked, tilting her head slightly. "Look at how close I am. You can easily hit me. So try it."


    For a moment, I hesitated. Then, I realized. She''s weaker than Tarkun. With the smallest, controlled movement, I shifted my fist and drove it into her gut¡ªprecise, sharp, but not overpowered. The woman¡¯s eyes widened as she clutched her chest, hunched over and visibly shaken by the strike. She tanked it, but the pain was clear in her voice as she gritted her teeth and punched the ground in frustration. "You didn¡¯t go easy at all." She straightened up, wiping the sweat from her brow, and nodded in reluctant approval. "You can enter, but it costs ten gold." She raised her palm. I handed her the ten gold. Her tone was begrudging but respectful now. "What¡¯s your name?" "Vellin." I replied simply, glancing down at my fist. Strength control¡­ is really hard.

 Expectation

    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    Reaching into my coat pocket, I pulled out a cigar, something to calm me. I twirled it in my fingers for a moment. I swiped the end, igniting it. The familiar scent of burning tobacco filled the air as I took a long drag, the smoke swirling around me like a comforting cloak. Exhaling slowly, I finally spoke, "Place the posters around¡ªthe final participant has been found." Vellin, the man who had struck me down so effortlessly, raised an eyebrow and asked, "Can I go now? Someone is waiting for me." His voice was casual. I took another puff from the cigar, my eyes narrowing as I regarded him. "Come back on the 11th. That''s when the tournament will be held." I need to inform the Demon Buddha about this.


    Thirty minutes later..


    Someone I didn¡¯t know stood beside Larry, a fellow officer, both of them guarding the entrance to Sun''s accommodations. They looked vigilant. We should¡¯ve gotten better housing for someone of Sun''s fame, but ever since that war with Obsidian, things haven¡¯t been the same. Our prestige, our influence¡ªit all took a hit. We can''t flaunt our power like before. Too many good men were lost during that war, and their absence left cracks in our foundation. Whispers had started¡ªconspiracies about our strength. They said we weren¡¯t the strongest Supreme Clan anymore. What an absolute joke. Those fools. Obsidian, our only true competition, lost that war! Yet here we are, still facing rumors and doubts. The audacity of these people¡­ I clenched my jaw, feeling the frustration coil tight in my chest. How could they forget? How could they doubt?


    I let go of the cigar, watching it fall to the ground. Its faint glow flickered weakly before I ground it beneath my heel, extinguishing the flame with a hard stomp. ¡°I need to speak with the Demon Buddha,¡± I said, my voice firm as I turned to Larry. ¡°the last participant has been found.¡± Larry gave a slight nod, no surprise in his eyes. He¡¯d seen me like this before¡ªangry, determined, ready to act. He stepped aside and opened the door for me, a small, respectful gesture. "Welcome back, Emma." he said. I slipped my hands into my pockets, my expression neutral as I stepped past him. "Thanks, Larry."


    The place was still lavish, but not lavish enough for someone of the Demon Buddha''s stature. Expensive tapestries adorned the walls, and the furniture was made of fine materials, yet it felt like a shadow of its former glory. Perhaps it was the aftermath of the war, or maybe it was just my growing dissatisfaction with the state of things. Either way, it wasn¡¯t enough. Not for us. That''s why we''re holding this tournament in the first place. The Demon Buddha lay sprawled on a massive couch, a piece of furniture custom-made to support his immense frame. His large, muscular body seemed at ease, yet even in relaxation, his veins pulsed unnaturally. It seems power flowed through him at all times. He lifted a cup to his lips, sipping the last of his drink with an almost exaggerated slowness, savoring every drop.


    With a satisfied sigh, he finally spoke. "What did you need, Emma?" His voice was commanding, despite the casualness of the moment. I took a deep breath and pulled the ten gold coins from my pocket. The cold metal clinked against the polished wood as I placed them on the table in front of him, a small but significant token. "The last participant has been found." I said, watching his expression carefully. He didn¡¯t react at first, simply kicking his feet up, his enormous frame shifting as he sat upright. Even sitting, he was taller than me. His veins seemed to pulse even more as he stirred from his relaxation, placing the now-empty cup on the table beside him.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    "Good." he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We can finally get this show on the road." His tone held anticipation. Then, his eyes narrowed, curious. "Who is the last participant?" "His name is Vellin, sir." I replied, standing a little straighter as I said the name. The effect was immediate. His eyes widened, shock flashing across his face, a rare emotion for the Demon Buddha. For a moment, I saw a vulnerability in him I had never seen before. "How old did he look?" he asked, his voice urgent. I hesitated, scratching my head. "His early twenties at best?" I answered, unsure of why he seemed so rattled by the name.


    His massive hand slammed down onto the desk. The sound was deafening as the wood splintered beneath his force, the desk practically disintegrating under the pressure. My heart leapt into my throat, and I quickly straightened my posture, trying to mask my fear. "W-w-what''s going on, sir?!" My voice shook despite my best efforts. He raised a hand, a silent command for me to calm down. "My bad." he muttered, his tone softer. "Someone I knew was named Vellin. The timeline matches up too." I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. Could it be the same person? "Do you want us to find more information on him, sir?" I asked, already running through the logistics in my mind. I could get the men on it immediately if needed. But he shook his head. "Nah. There''s no way it could be him." he said, though his voice carried a hint of uncertainty. "Vellin is a fairly popular name."


    The Demon Buddha snapped his fingers, the sound echoing through the lavish room. ¡°Run by me all the participants again. It¡¯s been a while.¡± he commanded, his tone impatient but focused. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, pushing past the tension from earlier. "There are eight participants, each incredibly strong." I began, choosing my words carefully. He casually plucked some wax from his ear, giving me a lazy glance. ¡°Well, yeah, no shit.¡± he muttered, dismissing the obvious. I bit back a sigh, deciding not to engage with his rudeness. I couldn¡¯t afford to lose focus. ¡°The participants are at the highest level we''ve seen in twenty years.¡± I continued, my voice more measured, determined to get through the briefing. "I''ll name them in alphabetical order.¡±


    I took another breath, centering myself before starting the list. ¡°Aiden¡ªan ex-member of the Suits, a clan based out of Las Gran. He¡¯s a wrestler, known for his brutal efficiency. During his fight, he submitted the officer he faced in under a minute.¡± The Demon Buddha raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, waiting for more. ¡°Next, there¡¯s Hal, ''The Wrecker''. He¡¯s a fist for hire who became infamous after taking down a hundred bandits during an escort job¡ªwhile still protecting his employer. He beat his assigned officer with a single punch.¡±


    This time, the Demon Buddha let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. Hal¡¯s reputation was something even he couldn¡¯t ignore. ¡°And then, Lucas¡ª''Absolute Defense''. He¡¯s the former second rank of the Fist of God, which, as you know, is helping us host the tournament.¡± I paused for a second, drawing in a steady breath. Each of these participants was a powerhouse in their own right, and Lucas was no exception. ¡°Lucas is a master of Reinforced Fist, and somehow, he¡¯s immune to blades. The officer who faced him tried to use bladed weapons, but Lucas just stood there, unmoved, until the officer got too exhausted to continue.¡±


    The Demon Buddha smiled, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Like me." he said, clearly enjoying the comparison to Lucas. I adjusted my glasses, maintaining my professional composure. "Yes, sir," I confirmed before moving on. "Then, there''s Mason, ''The Horse'', a registered mercenary with the endurance to fight for days at a time. During his match, he and his officer were nearly evenly matched, until Mason started deflecting every single attack with Silat. Afterward, he countered with a Muay Thai knee that knocked the officer out cold."


    The Demon Buddha listened intently, his amusement growing. I continued, "Noah, ''Life and Death'', is a pure master of Silat, and he beat his officer in a similar manner to Mason. Precise, methodical, and devastating." I paused for a moment before introducing the next name. "Then we have Oliver, ''The Pipsqueak.'' Despite his size, he launched a relentless barrage of strikes at his officer while dodging every blow thrown at him. As far as I know, he doesn¡¯t study any formal martial art." A smile tugged at the Demon Buddha''s lips again. "Impressive."


    "The most famous participant.." I went on, "is Ryan, the strongest student of Taekwondo Grandmaster Ryuha. He defeated his officer with a single, precise strike to the abdomen. It was over in an instant." The Demon Buddha¡¯s smile widened. "Ryuha''s best student, huh? Not bad. Ryuha gave me a good fight back in the day." I gulped and moved on to the last name. "And finally, Vellin¡ªthe man I fought just now. He only threw one punch, but if my hunch is correct, he¡¯s on the level of a Flame." My words hung in the air for a moment, and I felt a chill at the memory of the punch that had brought me to my knees.


    The Demon Buddha¡¯s expression darkened, turning serious as he leaned forward slightly. "Are you sure, Emma?" I held my ground, unwavering. "Yes, sir. He threw a casual punch from point-blank range, and it brought me to my knees instantly. Even Hal, known for his strength, can''t replicate that." He leaned back, his massive frame sinking into the couch as he let out a deep breath. "Well, I''ll be damned," he muttered. His gaze drifted upward to the second floor, where some of the officers'' rooms were. "Even if he is on the level of a Flame, the other participants are nearing that level as well." His mood shifted, and a wicked grin spread across his face. He let out a low, rumbling cackle. "He¡¯s in for a world of hurt if he thinks this will be easy for him!"

 Blaze

    Three days later..


    The rising sun crept through the window, its light piercing my eyes as I stirred awake. I rubbed my face groggily, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Today was the day¡ªthe day of the tournament. I sat up slowly, feeling the familiar stiffness in my neck. With a low groan, I cracked it, muttering, "I''m sore..." From across the room, Jane¡¯s voice broke the silence. "Me too." she said, sounding equally worn out. "We trained pretty hard yesterday." I turned to see her sitting up on her bed, her hair slightly tousled from sleep. Her eyes, though, were sharp¡ªalert. She looked at me with concern. "You okay? This won''t be easy..."


    I clenched my fist, feeling the strain in my muscles, but also the underlying determination that had carried me through every challenge. "I''m fine," I replied firmly. "I always need to improve my fitness. No better day to test that than today." Jane stretched, her arms raising high above her head, as a slight smile played at her lips. "Thanks for teaching me," she said, her gratitude sincere. "I feel significantly stronger than even just three days ago. I had no idea how much more I could push myself."


    I made my way to the closet, searching for the gi I¡¯d bought just the day before. The fabric of the other clothes rustled as I shuffled through them. "I had to skip one stage in your training," I said, my tone more serious, "but I taught you the two most immediately useful ones. Your growth will slow down from here, but you¡¯ve laid a solid foundation." Behind me, I heard the sound of Jane rummaging through her bag. "Hey." she called softly. I paused for a moment, finally finding the shirt I had been looking for. Patting it down, I turned around to face her. "Yeah?" I asked, curious about what she had in mind.


    She pulled out a beautiful pink swimsuit, holding it up with a playful smile. "Want to go take a bath?" she asked. Her casual tone caught me off guard. It¡¯s still¡­ not time for the tournament. I glanced at the gi I¡¯d grabbed and quickly considered my options. A bath wouldn¡¯t be a bad idea to relax before the big event. I nodded, holding up the gi. "Sure." I replied. Without looking back at me, Jane opened the door and started walking out. "Make sure to go to the mixed bath." she added, her voice a bit more teasing than usual. That¡¯s what she meant? I blinked, realizing the implication of her suggestion. The mixed bath. A part of me tensed up, but I knew I couldn''t let her down. Zero had taught me not to shy away from bold and brave advances. Hesitation was a weakness, and I hadn¡¯t responded yet.


    Alright. I''ll put in a serious effort.


    I grabbed my key and walked out of the room, locking the door behind me. The hallway was quiet, except for the soft echo of my footsteps. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, a man bowed politely, his voice low. "Good morning." I returned the gesture, nodding as well. "Good morning." Continuing down the stairs, I turned right, heading toward the changing room. I hesitated at the door for a moment, knocking lightly to make sure it wasn¡¯t occupied. No answer. It seemed I had it to myself. Opening the door, I stepped inside and locked it behind me with the bar. Privacy secured.


    I started undressing, leaving only my shorts on. My reflection in the mirror caught my attention briefly¡ªmy body felt ready for the tournament, but my mind was preoccupied with Jane¡¯s invitation. I brushed it off and opened the door to leave, stepping out into the hallway. I walked across the lobby, and I could feel eyes on me. Not hateful stares, but the kind fueled by jealousy. The few women who were staying here gave me looks that I could only interpret as envy. Maybe it was my physique. Either way, it made the walk across the lobby all the more awkward. This city isn¡¯t as proper as Zero.


    The moment I stepped inside, the beautiful warmth and scent of the bathhouse immediately surrounded me, soothing the tension in my muscles. The entire room was lined with smooth, white marble¡ªa luxury that was rare to see these days. The light reflected off the surface, creating a calming ambiance. I paused, taking in the atmosphere, when Jane¡¯s voice echoed from deeper within. "Is that you, Vellin?" she called out, her voice playful. "Yeah. Where are you?" I replied, scanning the room in front of me. There was a divider separating the space, with seats lined up along the walls beneath low-intensity hoses. At the far end, there appeared to be a clearing, perhaps where the bath was. I couldn''t see Jane yet, though.


    "Well, where do you think? Follow my voice." she teased, her tone making me feel slightly foolish for asking. She¡¯s right. That was a stupid question. I¡¯m definitely off my game right now. Shaking off the awkwardness, I walked along the right side of the room, feeling the smooth marble beneath my feet as I approached the clearing. "I¡¯m coming." I called out, my voice sounding more composed. When I stepped into the open area, I was greeted by the sight of a massive, regal silver bath that seemed almost too grand for a place like this. How did they afford this? The sheer size and elegance of it were impressive, but I was still looking for Jane.


    Suddenly, her head popped up from beneath the water, breaking the surface with a splash. "Surprise!" she exclaimed, grinning as she stood up in the bath. The pink swimsuit she had shown me earlier clung perfectly to her figure, the water droplets shimmering in the light. She straightened up, her posture accentuating the curves of her body, especially in that swimsuit. "What do you think?" she asked, twirling slightly for effect. "You saw it before, but how does it look on me now?" My eyes widened in shock, and I felt my mouth go dry. "..Holy." I muttered under my breath, unable to tear my gaze away. I stared for a second too long, particularly at her breasts, before I realized it. Jane quickly caught on, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. "Pervert!" she scolded.


    I waved my hands frantically, trying to backtrack. "No, no! I wasn¡¯t staring at them, I swear! I was just... in a trance." I felt my face flush with embarrassment. "You really are beautiful." I added, hoping to smooth over the moment. Jane¡¯s expression softened, and she smiled. "Thanks. You look good too." I twitched, caught off guard. "These are just my shorts." I replied awkwardly, gesturing down. She turned her head slightly, her voice quieter. "Not that."


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The tension broke with her words, and I stepped over the barrier into the bath, letting the warm water envelop me. It was slightly warmer than I expected, but it was comforting, and the heat began to relax my sore muscles almost immediately. I spread my arms wide along the edge, allowing the warmth to soak in. "This feels so good." I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. Jane slid into the water beside me, her arms resting at her sides, matching my relaxed posture. "I''ve done some research on the other participants..." she began, her voice thoughtful. I nodded, recalling our previous conversations. "Yeah, you told me about the other seven." She shook her head. "No. I¡¯ve done more research on the strongest of them." Her tone was more serious now. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You think he''s gonna beat me?" Jane hesitated for a moment before answering. "It''s possible. He''s famous all across the country. Do you know who Ryuha is?" I looked into her eyes, sensing the weight behind her question. "Yes, the Taekwondo Grandmaster Ryuha. What about him?"


    She dropped her gaze to the water, her voice softening. "He recently spread the word that Ryan, his student, has surpassed him in technical skill. Ryan is nineteen years old." I blinked in disbelief. Is that even possible? I thought. I had technically surpassed my master, Zero, but it wasn¡¯t in technical skill¡ªit was in speed and strength. But Ryan, a nineteen-year-old, outpacing a grandmaster in technique? That was a whole different level of skill. Jane seemed to read my thoughts, her concern clear in her eyes as she looked up at me again. "Just stay safe, okay? Quit if things go wrong."


    She¡¯s been saying this for a while now, I realized. Her worry wasn¡¯t just about the tournament¡ªshe really cared about me. I could see it in the way she spoke, in her actions. She swam closer, the water rippling softly around us. Her hand found my cheek, her touch warm and gentle. "Don''t die.¡± she whispered, her voice tender. Her eyes closed as she leaned in, her lips softly puckering. I closed my eyes too, feeling the weight of the moment, and reciprocated. In that brief, intimate moment, I realized just how much Jane meant to me now. She¡¯s the one I¡¯m closest to, other than Zero. Everyone needs some love in their life, and right now, this was ours.


    One hour later..


    I tightened the arm wraps on my gi, ensuring the snug fit around my forearms. The material felt firm but familiar, a sign that today would be significant. With my gaze set ahead, I walked toward the side entrance of the colosseum. A wooden stand was positioned just outside, with a roughly scrawled sign that read, "Participants Here" The entrance for spectators was further down, and as I approached, a staff member noticed me.


    "Ah, Vellin," she called out. I immediately recognized her voice. "I thought you might''ve missed it. It''s me, Emma." I raised my hand in greeting, offering a small smile. "Wouldn''t miss it for anything in the world." I replied, my tone casual but sincere. It wasn¡¯t an exaggeration; this moment held more weight than anything else. This was the culmination of my training, my effort. There was no backing out now. Emma¡¯s attention shifted slightly, her eyes flickering over to Jane, who stood quietly by my side. "Is this your friend?" she asked, pointing with a slight curiosity. I wrapped my arm around Jane''s shoulders with a small grin, pulling her gently toward me. "My girlfriend." I said, feeling a mix of pride and protectiveness. Jane twiddled her fingers nervously as her face turned a shade darker, clearly shy about the introduction. I quickly removed my arm to ease her discomfort. "Anyway," I continued, changing the subject, "do you have somewhere for her to sit?"


    Emma crossed her arms, clearly thinking for a moment. "I can escort her to the VIP section," she replied. "Vellin, just enter behind me and go into the locker room. It''s the second door on the left. Wait there for now." She snapped her fingers to signal Jane to follow her, and Jane gave me a small nod before turning to walk behind Emma. As they moved away, I stood still for a moment, watching Jane''s figure disappear. This tournament wasn¡¯t just about my skills¡ªit was about.. my life. I turned my attention back to the tunnel ahead, its stone walls looming tall and echoing faint murmurs from the colosseum beyond. I walked through, and the air grew cooler, and I could hear the soft patter of footsteps behind me¡ªtwo staff members replacing Emma at the stand outside.


    I followed Emma¡¯s instructions, heading straight into the second door on the left. The locker room stretched wide, filled with rows of lockers and wooden benches. A window on the far side offered a clear view into the colosseum, where the early crowd was already gathering for the fights. A large man in a tank top spotted me immediately, his eyes narrowing as I walked in. He smirked arrogantly, "That''s the last guy I''m beating." Laughter erupted from the two others sitting near him, but I didn''t let it faze me. I raised my hand casually, meeting his gaze. "Shut up and prove it in the matches." I said, my voice cold and sharp. The tension in the room thickened.


    His smirk only grew wider, more crazed, as he stood up and began striding toward me with heavy steps. I mirrored his movement, walking forward to meet him head-on. I wasn''t about to back down¡ªnever had, never would. Just as we squared up, the door swung open behind me. Instinctively, I glanced back to see who it was. That slight turn was all the opportunity the big guy needed. He swung at me, aiming for the side of my head. But I reacted quickly, springing back at the last possible second, my palms hitting the ground as I flipped onto both arms. With a quick thrust, I kicked him in the stomach with both feet¡ªa signature stingray kick.


    His body felt like it was carved out of stone, and he barely slid back a few feet, his hand instinctively gripping his stomach. He sneered, unimpressed. "Weak." I flipped back onto my feet, already readying my fist for another strike. His arms crossed defensively, bracing himself. I launched forward, ready to throw a punch, but before I could connect, a firm hand caught my forearm mid-swing. "Stop it, idiot." a voice said calmly from behind me.


    I spun around to see a man in a red tracksuit, his hair tied back in a tight ponytail. His face was calm but exuded a quiet strength. He released my arm and stood between me and the tank-top brute. "Just a few minutes.." he said firmly, his voice carrying authority. His eyes flickered toward the other guy. "I know he started it, so we¡¯ll deal with him too." He sighed, his shoulders loosening as he turned toward the window that overlooked the arena. "It''s time for round one. Head out onto the sand when your name¡¯s called over the loudspeaker." I stood there for a moment, fists still clenched but mind racing. An idiot? He might have stopped the fight, but I could''ve taken him. If anything, Sun are the idiots for allowing me to enter.

 Imbalance

    The loudspeakers crackled to life as the announcer''s voice boomed across the stadium, "Oliver, to the arena, please!" The roar of the crowd swelled. I glanced over at the one friend I¡¯d managed to make in this hostile place, Mason, sitting casually on the viewing bench. "I''ll show you what I''m capable of." I called out confidently. Mason gave me a supportive nod, his eyes steady. "I wish for your success, buddy." he said. He leaned back on the bench, arms crossed. I walked to the heavy metal door that separated me from the arena. The dull clank of the hinges echoed as I pushed it open.


    On the other side, a staff member slouched lazily in the direction of the exit tunnel. His posture screamed boredom as if this was just another day for him, another pair of fighters walking into the spotlight. He barely acknowledged me, yawning exaggeratedly before pointing down the hallway. "That way." he said, indifferent. I rolled my eyes. Yeah, I know. Crossing my arms in mild irritation, I moved toward the light at the end of the corridor. As I neared the exit, the gritty scent of sand filled my nostrils. Sand wasn¡¯t ideal for fighting¡ªtoo loose underfoot, making it harder to find traction. But that was the point, wasn¡¯t it? They wanted us uncomfortable, off-balance.


    Stepping out into the blinding sunlight, I was momentarily stunned by the sight before me. The stadium was enormous, packed to the brim with spectators¡ªsome leaning forward eagerly, others laughing amongst themselves. The moment they saw me, the crowd erupted. A chorus of cheers mixed with jeers echoed across the stands. I could hear snippets of taunts: "Weakling!" "Is this the best they''ve got?" But amid the noise, there were voices of recognition too. Some people knew my reputation, and they knew better than to underestimate me. The announcer¡¯s voice rang out again, cutting through the chaos. "And here we have Oliver, also known by his moniker¡ªthe Pipsqueak!" The words reverberated through the arena, eliciting laughter from certain sections of the audience. I clenched my fists at my sides, heat rising to my face. I¡¯m not short. I¡¯m average height.


    A man in the crowd bellowed with laughter, louder than the rest. I shot a glare in his direction. I¡¯ll teach him a lesson after this match. The announcer continued, his tone shifting to something more respectful. "But don¡¯t let his moniker fool you, folks! This man is fast¡ªfaster than anyone I¡¯ve ever seen in the arena." That¡¯s right. My speed was my greatest weapon, and I wasn¡¯t about to let a silly nickname overshadow that. As the crowd settled, my focus sharpened. From the shadowy tunnel opposite mine, a figure emerged slowly.


    "But this man... is not just fast." The announcer¡¯s voice took on a dramatic edge, drawing out each word for effect. I raised an eyebrow, suspicion creeping into my thoughts. Don¡¯t tell me they have me going against... The announcer roared with renewed excitement, his voice echoing off the walls of the arena, "It''s Ryan! Moniker; The Spinning Genius! I don¡¯t even need to explain his accolades! Against someone of Oliver''s caliber, his bet return is only one and a quarter times! Oliver''s is four times! The favorite by far!" The crowd responded in a frenzy, their cheers and gasps rising like a wave.


    I tensed, my mind racing as I gauged the distance between us. I¡¯m fifty feet away right now... could I kill Ryan before he even notices my movement? I entertained the thought briefly. I will not accept this slander! The insult of being seen as the underdog. Ryan stepped further into the light, his long hair catching in the wind, waving like a flag of arrogance. While I wore mine pulled back in a tight ponytail, keeping it controlled, Ryan let his mane fly loose, as if to taunt me with his carefree demeanor. He seemed unconcerned, but I could see the sharpness in his eyes. He was aware, ready. The announcer piped down, his voice dropping as he addressed the crowd once more. "Anyways, this fight will be good..." He leaned forward, pointing dramatically from the announcer booth, "Referee, are you ready?!"


    Ah, so that¡¯s who I had sensed earlier. From the arena''s edge, a skinny man in a white and red striped uniform emerged, walking toward the center of the arena. He had the appearance of someone who¡¯d seen more than a few fights. His eyes flicked between me and Ryan before he spoke, his voice steady. "If you want to surrender, yell it. Other than that, anything is allowed. Even killing..." The crowd hushed at the mention of the word "killing" a reality settling over them. My blood surged. The sand beneath my feet shifted as I adjusted my stance, preparing for whatever came next. The referee raised his hand, his voice booming with finality. "Three... two... one..." He slammed his hand down. "Begin!"


    I needed to show my superiority. With deliberate calm, I started walking forward, my hands casually resting in my pockets. The crowd buzzed with confusion, unsure of what to make of my slow, confident approach. The announcer¡¯s voice cut through the chatter, his tone laced with surprise. "Oliver... is taking it slow?" His disbelief mirrored the crowd''s as they watched me close the distance at my own pace.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Ryan, on the other hand, moved like a machine¡ªhis body rigid, each motion devoid of any emotion or hesitation. This idiot... I thought, already recognizing the flaw in his mechanical style. His next move was predictable. Spinning on his heel, he launched a spinning back kick at my head. His speed was decent. I smoothly weaved under the strike, barely feeling the air as it brushed past me. Sliding forward on the sand, the grains tugged at my feet, slowing my movement although not enough to stop me from connecting. My fist slammed into his liver, and for a second, I felt the sharp sting in my knuckles. Damn, that hurt. The rumors about his toughness weren¡¯t exaggerated. His body felt like punching a brick wall, absorbing most of the impact. I can whittle him down. His resilience didn¡¯t worry me¡ªit just meant I¡¯d have to break him piece by piece.


    Ryan didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he jumped, his leg swinging high above his head as he attempted a slow but powerful descending kick. I watched his movements carefully, twisting my chest just enough to avoid the blow by a hair''s breadth. He crashed down heavily, his foot sending sand scattering, but he wasn¡¯t done. As he leaned back, extending his leg forward, he tried a pointer kick aimed straight at me. I didn¡¯t blink. With a quick sweep of my forearm, I deflected his foot to the side. Before he could recover, I shot forward with a snap jab, aiming for his chin. My fist connected cleanly, and I felt the impact reverberate through his jaw. His head jerked back, and I caught a glimpse of a small trail of blood dripping from his lip. He reeled, stumbling slightly, the first sign of weakness. Let''s pick it up.


    Ryan threw a powerful roundhouse kick, the air whistling from the sheer force behind it. I bent my knees and leaped over the strike, the sand shifting beneath me as I soared above his leg. While airborne, I sent a kick to his sternum, expecting to wind him. Instead, he barely faltered. What is this guy made of? The hit connected, but his resilience was unnerving. He was taking damage¡ªjust slowly, methodically, as though his body was built to endure.


    He spun again, this time with a kick aimed from his side. I quickly retreated, taking a calculated step back to avoid the strike. His movements were deliberate, but he was wearing down. He took a deep breath, and I could see the focus in his eyes as he dashed forward. His leg lashed out with a surprising speed, a kick aimed straight for my gut. Reacting instinctively, I pushed off the sand, moving swiftly to his right blind spot.


    "That''s slow." I mocked. I copied his earlier move, twisting low before driving an uppercut straight into his belly button. The impact sent a shock through his core, but once again, he pushed through the pain as if it was a mere inconvenience. He countered almost immediately, another fast kick aimed at my midsection. The speed was unnatural¡ªthat has to be a special technique of his. I seized his foot in a firm grip, locking it in place. Our eyes met, and I could see the cold defiance in his gaze. He was relentless. Without missing a beat, he mocked me back, his voice icy, "That''s predictable." In a blur of motion, he sprang off his grounded leg, twisting his body and sending a kick toward my cheek.


    I barely had time to react. My head snapped to the side, spinning at the last possible moment to dilute the force of the blow. The kick still connected, but the impact was lessened, and I tightened my grip on his foot. His balance wavered as I pushed forward, using his trapped leg to throw him off-kilter. His footing faltered, and he stumbled backward, unable to regain his stance. Seeing his chin wide open, I seized the moment. With all my force, I flung a powerful haymaker into his jaw. My fist connected with a sickening crack, and I felt something give under the pressure. Ryan¡¯s body lurched, his eyes momentarily glazing over from the force of the hit. As he fell backward, his instincts kicked in, and he tried one last desperate kick. But the angle was awkward, and his strike was weak. I easily sidestepped the attempt, watching as his body crumpled to the sand.


    Ryan slammed his left foot into the ground, using the momentum to twirl upright in a defiant spin. His long hair whipped around him like a cape. I stuck my tongue out at him, giving a casual thumbs down as he steadied himself. "You trained in the wrong discipline." I taunted, my voice cutting through. "Taekwondo, while strong, is not fast. You telegraph all of your kicks." I kept the thumbs down, holding the pose to drive my point home, savoring the frustration flickering in his eyes. He stared back, his jaw clenched, but I wasn¡¯t done. "I''ve almost entirely focused on my speed."


    I continued, "My power and endurance may be more than a step down from yours, but that doesn''t matter if you can¡¯t land a blow." I let the weight of my words sink in before adding, "A specialist can almost always beat an all-rounder." I adjusted my hand, flexing my fingers and stretching them out. "Let me give you an analogy." I grinned, locking eyes with him. "Would you rather have a ten-kilogram weight fly in your direction at twenty miles per hour... or a two-kilogram weight at a hundred?"

 Foix

    "What a question! Oliver is overwhelming Ryan!" the announcer commentated, his voice booming over the roaring crowd. Don''t jinx me, you stupid announcer. My heart pounded suddenly, my focus sharpening on Ryan¡¯s every movement. The veins in my right fist pulsed like they were about to burst through my skin, and adrenaline surged. Should I do it right now? No. Not yet. Let''s wear him down some more.


    I narrowed my eyes, studying his stance for an opening. With a flicker of movement, I vanished from his line of sight, reappearing just at the edge of his peripheral vision like a ghost. His eyes widened, but he was too slow to react as I launched an upward elbow toward his chin, my arm slicing through the air. He leaned back at the last possible second, narrowly avoiding the blow, but that wasn¡¯t what I was going for. It was a feint, just a setup for what came next.


    I didn''t hesitate¡ªthree rapid strikes hammered into his upper abdomen, gut, and chest, each hit landing with my maximum force. He gasped for breath, staggering back, but I wasn¡¯t done. His body quivered under the impact, his endurance on the brink. A dozen more hits, then I''ll finish him. I could already see the fatigue weighing down his limbs. Desperate, he raised his knee, attempting to retreat and create some distance, but I was quicker. I slapped his knee down, forcing him off balance. I crouched low, my body coiling. In one fluid motion, I swung my leg in a low arc, aiming for his calf. My shin collided with his leg, digging into the muscle. He grimaced, his face contorting in pain as his leg buckled slightly. He needs his legs more than anything.


    I struck the sand beneath me, the gritty texture biting into my skin as I curled a handful of grains into my palm. I hurled the sand toward his face, the particles spreading in the air like a fine mist, aimed directly at his eyes to obscure his vision. For a split second, I thought I had him. His body jerked backward as he instinctively swiped at the cloud of sand, creating a small clearing. But that brief moment was all I needed.


    As his hand moved through the air, I launched a right straight, my fist cutting through the space between us with nearly all of my speed, targeting his nose. This should finish it. The blow was meant to end everything, to put him down for good. But to my shock, his hand shot up and caught my fist mid-air with startling ease. The force of my punch stopped cold in his grip. His eyes locked onto mine, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Caught you." he quipped, his voice oozing confidence. Don''t get cocky! I immediately swung a wild left haymaker, hoping to force him to release my other hand. But again, he was faster than I anticipated. His other hand caught my other fist, halting my strike. Both my arms were locked in his iron grip, immobilized. He smiled, and for the first time in the entire bout, I saw something flicker across his face¡ªemotion. ¡°Ready for some pain?¡± he taunted.


    His body shifted. His leg shot up, his foot slamming into my chest in a brutal front kick. Pain exploded through my ribs as the force sent a shockwave through my entire torso, and I coughed up blood, the metallic taste flooding my mouth. My breath came out in ragged gasps. "I thought you were fast, though?" he sneered. I''m nothing more than a dummy right now! I struggled to regain control, but his foot moved again, faster than I could anticipate. He turned his body and delivered a vicious kick to my liver. Agony surged through me like fire, my knees buckling under the pain. My vision blurred as I gasped, desperate to pull away, but my arms were still trapped in his unyielding grip. I need to get out of this! I tried in vain to yank my arm free, but his hold was relentless, like a vice that wouldn¡¯t loosen.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    He chambered his knee, the movement slow, telegraphing the devastating blow he was about to unleash. I easily weaved his telegraphed kicks before.. I can¡¯t take more of this! My muscles ached, my body battered due to me disregarding my physicality. I dug my heels into the ground, tightening the muscles in my legs and fists, steadying myself for one last desperate move.


    His leg prepared to strike, and I pushed my right arm forward, just enough to ease some of the pressure between us, throwing him off balance. He didn¡¯t expect me to close the distance, not after everything I¡¯d taken. That was my opening. I activated every muscle fiber in my body, channeling power from my legs up through my core, driving it into my right fist. With a burst of speed that defied my normal limits, my punch shot forward at an unimaginable velocity¡ªseven hundred meters a second. My Foix Lance. His foot came crashing down toward me, aimed for the knockout blow. My fist and his kick collided simultaneously, each of us executing our moves with perfection. His foot slammed into my chest with a thunderous impact, sending another wave of pain ripping through me. At the same moment, my fist connected with his midsection, the increased torque of my blow causing him to cough up blood, his face twisting.


    The damage was mutual. My lower upper body and legs gave out beneath the force of his kick, and I felt my strength drain away in an instant. My body drooped forward, completely spent, my vision blurring. He caught me before I could fall, his hands gripping my shoulders, holding me up as both of us struggled to stay on our feet. I could feel his ragged breaths and the tremble in his muscles as we stood there, both of us on the brink of collapse. The world around me faded, my vision slowly turning to black. The edges of my consciousness slipped away, but a single thought echoed in my mind. The difference in this fight¡ªit was durability and power. I see the use of that now...


    The referee stomped the ground, "Winner... Ryan!" The crowd erupted, their cheers filling the arena. "It''s over! Oliver put up a great fight, but Ryan pulled through!" the announcer bellowed with excitement. Ryan, his face grim with exhaustion, released Oliver¡¯s shoulders. The moment he let go, Oliver''s body collapsed forward, his face hitting the sand. He didn¡¯t react¡ªhe couldn¡¯t. He¡¯s out cold, completely comatose. Ryan, despite his own battered state, bowed respectfully to the fallen Oliver, acknowledging the effort of his opponent. I sat off in the locker room, watching the scene unfold, Hal, standing nearby, scoffed, "That idiot took too much damage. He won¡¯t recover by the next round." I hadn¡¯t even noticed that. Ryan¡¯s body was covered in cuts, bruises, and blood. It was clear that this victory had come at a serious cost.


    Could I have beaten Oliver? If it had been me in there instead of Ryan? I watched the fight closely, and something stood out to me. Ryan was at a serious disadvantage, but that didn''t stop him¡ªhe had studied Oliver, anticipated his moves. He found the perfect opening to exploit. Oliver was fast, much faster than me, but he lacked balance in his fighting style. He barely used kicks, and there was no structure or form to his movements. It was all about speed. He sacrificed everything for that edge, but at what cost? Ryan saw through it. If it were me, I¡¯d have a chance, sure. If I landed one of my techniques¡ªeven just one Severed Soul¡ªon him, it would end the fight then and there. Would I get that chance? Could I find the opening like Ryan did? With my current level of tactics, it¡¯s hard to say. It wouldn¡¯t be certain. At best, it''s fifty-fifty.

 Beast

    "The next fight is also certain to be intense! Hal and Mason, two of the most sought-after mercenaries!" the announcer''s voice echoed through the arena, charging the air with anticipation. I swiped my hand to the side, signaling my readiness to leave, and made my way toward the locker room exit, my boots scuffing against the tiled floor with each step. The muscles in my arms flexed as I cracked my knuckles. It seems like we won¡¯t fight anyone in our rooms. All our opponents are in a different place." I muttered, smirking as I glanced over at Vellin. "It''d be fun to destroy you in the finals, Vellin." He didn¡¯t even flinch, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance, refusing to give me the satisfaction of a reaction. My smirk deepened, the tension building in the small space thick enough to cut. Just then, Ryan entered, moving quickly and nearly bumping into me as he crossed the threshold.


    "Watch where you''re going." I snapped. Ryan¡¯s head shot up, and his eyes met mine with a glare so fierce, it frightened me. His jaw was set, and his face was hardened into a look I''d never seen before. The playful insults that had been on the tip of my tongue melted away. He was in the zone¡ªa place even I wouldn¡¯t want to disrupt. I ducked under his arm and continued down the narrow corridor that led to the arena. The closer I got, the louder the crowd grew, their excitement a wave that crested as I approached. I''ll finish this quickly. The lights overhead blazed to life as I stepped into the open space, temporarily blinding me. I winced, blinking rapidly to adjust, and soon the blurry forms of the audience and my opponent sharpened into focus.


    "Look at how wide his shoulders are! His arms are thick too!" The crowd sat in hushed silence. My opponent, Mason, strode out onto the sand. His hands raised in a tight guard as his eyes locked onto mine. Even though he was smaller, he was second ranked. "And there''s Mason!" the announcer continued, as though reading the crowd''s minds. "Now that they have both entered the arena, let me introduce them both!" His voice gathering their attention. "Hal," he declared, nodding towards me, "is the top-ranked mercenary associated with the Athal Mercenary Association. He has escorted and protected more than a few hundred clients, with none having been killed."


    The crowd murmured, hanging on the announcer¡¯s every word as he painted a picture of my victories. "He saved his employer from a hundred bandits at once. Let me drive this home¡ªhe protected his client, not allowing them to be scratched. He is known as the Wrecker." He paused for emphasis, the title seeming to roll off his tongue with weight. "His bets return one and a half." He then shifted his gaze toward Mason. "Then, Mason, the Horse." I watched Mason¡¯s eyes narrow in response to the title, his body language speaking to his hardened battlefield experience. "The second-ranked mercenary with the same association. He partakes in fewer escort and protection jobs, but has amazing battlefield experience. He has fought for days at a time. His bets return twice. The slight underdog." The announcer raised his hands, a questioning look sweeping over the audience. "Mason is only five six, with Hal towering at six four. Can he overcome such a weight difference?"


    The referee, standing firm in the center of the arena, looked between the two of us, his expression as steely as the fighters he was addressing. He raised his voice to ensure even the furthest rows could hear, "There are no rules. Killing is allowed. If you do not want to die, yell that you surrender." He paused, letting the gravity of his words settle over us and the crowd. Then he raised his arm high, signaling the beginning of the match. "Three... two... one... begin!"


    I let my arms drop, relaxing them as I gave a slight wiggle, letting the tension slip away. Let''s let the beast feast! Without another thought, I lunged toward Mason, my head lowered and shoulders angled forward, ready to plow through him. Mason shifted quickly into a Silat stance, his open palms facing forward, his body composed and guarded. The moment before impact, he sidestepped smoothly, pivoting with fluidity and keeping his gaze trained on me. My momentum carried me forward, and I skidded across the sand, planting my foot to dig into the ground and regain my balance.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Gritting my teeth, I curled my fingers into a tight fist, feeling the tension build through my forearm. I closed the distance between us in a flash, this time aiming a powerful left straight toward his guard. Mason¡¯s arm lifted in a well-practiced roll, deflecting my punch with the forearm, absorbing the blow. Even through his guard, I felt the impact land solidly, and a faint bruise began to form where my fist had connected. Nobody can deflect my punches! But he¡¯d managed, at least partially, to redirect it. His eyes flicked down briefly to the bruise, assessing the damage with a momentary glance.


    I spun into a right kick, slicing through the air with intent¡ªbut my foot met nothing but open space. A miss. He¡¯s slippery. I raised my arm high above my head and launched it down in a crushing hammer fist. This will hit him! The force of my attack drove my fist downward with brutal speed.


    His arm snapped up, perfectly perpendicular to the ground, catching my hammer fist in a solid block. The impact sent shockwaves through his stance, causing his feet to sink into the sand and form small craters beneath them. I heard a faint crack¡ªa bone shifting or worse. Yet, he didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, his eyes darkened, and he looked up with a devilish grin, his voice low and taunting. "Thanks for underestimating me." Then, in an instant, his fist shot toward my abdomen, fast and sure. But at the last second, it stopped, hovering just an inch away from my body. Instinct took over, and I twisted out of the way, barely escaping the blow. His fist packed a raw force that sent a powerful gust of wind through the arena, rippling through the sand and reaching the crowd. The sheer force left me momentarily stunned. He absorbed my power... My Beast Instinct had saved me.


    Seizing the moment, I reached out, and my hand closed around his face. His eyes flickered, but he retaliated instantly, driving his knee into my stomach in a rapid, brutal sequence of Muay Thai strikes. He fired knee after knee into my core, his strikes continuous. That tickles. I was focused, locked onto my target. With a final surge of strength, I propelled him back, carrying him through the air until his face slammed into the solid marble wall surrounding the arena. His head collided with a sickening force, the marble cracking. His face contorted against the wall. He was absolutely done for.


    I slowly withdrew my hand, letting Mason¡¯s head rest against the fractured wall, holding him there almost like a pin in place. His eyes never left mine, defiant and intense even in his defeat. I felt the adrenaline pulse through me, and I grasped my forearm tightly, activating Reinforced Fist to heighten the blood flow. A rush of heat surged down my arm, amplifying my strength. I met his gaze and said firmly, "My power has beaten your technique." His resolve wavered. Finally, in a voice edged with desperation, Mason shouted, "I surrender!" The referee stepped forward, raising his voice to seal the victory. "Mason has surrendered! Winner... Hal!"


    The crowd remained silent, a quiet, almost wary tension settling over them. I could feel the weight of their stares, unenthusiastic, judging. I guessed they saw my strength as excessive or barbaric. They couldn''t understand the world of a mercenary. They didn¡¯t know what it took to survive. Still, as I looked at Mason, I felt a flicker of respect. Despite his smaller frame, his power had nearly rivaled mine, and that was no small feat. I stepped back and extended my fist in a gesture of respect. "I''m sorry for underestimating you," I said. "you showed me power that surpassed mine despite your small stature. You deserve the respect you''ve earned." Mason, still partially lodged in the cracked wall, glanced at my fist with a smirk. "I¡¯m still halfway in the wall, asshole."


    With a faint chuckle, I turned and walked away, letting the moment end. That''s enough pleasantries. The announcer punctuated the moment with a professional analysis. "A very quick fight for Hal," he began, "but we all saw that one-inch punch. This came down to a very small margin, despite what the visible damage would suggest."

 Declaration

    I watched as Mason emerged from the wall, his steps heavy as he dropped down onto the sand. Even from my spot in the stands, I could see the blood streaming down his arms and legs, his body battered and littered with pieces of rubble wedged into his skin. Dust clung to him, turning those bloodstains a dull, rusty color, but he didn¡¯t seem fazed. Medics rushed forward with a stretcher, reaching for him, but Mason shrugged them off as if he were perfectly fine. I could tell he wasn''t, though¡ªhis injuries looked far worse than Oliver¡¯s. Still, he stood there, refusing help, his gaze hard and distant. Then, something shifted. His muscles tightened, like he was about to explode¡ªand suddenly, he did. His body tensed and with a single, brutal flex, shards of concrete and metal erupted from his skin, scattering into the sand. The blood sprayed out in a short arc, but he barely even winced.


    Is that... a battlefield healing technique? Zero told me of expert mercenaries trained to expel debris and close wounds on command, but seeing it happen was something else entirely. Mason turned without a word, walking back toward the wall, his body still bleeding but somehow lighter, like he was already done with this tournament. ¡°Impressive,¡± Ryan called out, echoing my own thoughts. ¡°I acknowledge that, Mason. That was a spectacular performance from you.¡±


    "Mason didn''t even need medical attention like Oliver, and his injuries were worse! That shows us how the battlefield works, doesn''t it?" the announcer boomed. He paused, adopting a reflective tone. "So far, we''ve seen two fights: one between near equals, and one where the odds were skewed. Mason was outmatched in sheer physicality, but he wielded a technique that could have turned the tide¡­ if only he¡¯d managed to land it. Now, the stage is set for something different¡ªa match between two fighters whose strengths and weaknesses remain a mystery. Vellin and Aiden."


    That¡¯s my cue.


    I drew in a deep breath. Just then, the door creaked open, and Hal stepped into the room, ducking under the low frame as he entered. His presence was impossible to ignore. Despite the fierce battle he¡¯d waged against Mason, he bore only a few light scratches, proof that he¡¯d had the upper hand for most of the fight. I noticed a faint shadow of bruising around his liver where Mason had kneed him¡ªa mark left by the only hit that might have done real damage. He seemed unfazed, though, his expression hard. I rose, moving past him without a word. There was nothing to say.


    I wasn''t going to just walk out like the others had. They had their reputations to ride on, hype that spoke for them long before they stepped onto the sand. I had none of that. The only fight I¡¯d been in here was the quick one against Emma¡ªand barely anyone had even been there to see it. I paused just before crossing the line into the open, where the crowd could see me. Taking a deep breath, I threw a punch into the air, channeling my energy with precise force. The impact rippled forward, carrying across the arena and hitting the sand. Instantly, the sand churned, rising and solidifying into a wall that blocked everyone¡¯s view. Gasps and murmurs rose from the stands, the crowd electrified with curiosity and confusion.


    Then, with deliberate steps, I moved forward, letting my silhouette emerge from the shifting sand as if conjured by magic. The wall dissolved, grains trickling down like a veil pulled back, revealing me in full view. The crowd erupted, roars of excitement and scattered applause mixing with shouts of disbelief. I could hear people whispering to each other, asking how I¡¯d done it, speculating on my powers. A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. The announcer¡¯s voice rang out, amplified and booming. "A fantastic entrance! This is Vellin, a newcomer who appeared out of nowhere just days ago! Nobody knows his fighting style, his origins, or where he¡¯s honed his skills. A true wild card in this tournament, folks! His odds are set at one and a half times, for those feeling lucky!"


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Across the way, Aiden stood with his arms crossed, glaring at me with a look that was half smug, half annoyance. His gaze burned with challenge, a clear warning not to get too cocky. The announcer turned his attention to him, the excitement only ramping up. "And here we have our main man¡ªAiden! Known for his beautiful but deadly wrestling style, the Chivalrous Man himself! Some call him a ladies'' man, others call him old-fashioned, but his reputation speaks for itself. Let¡¯s just say he¡¯s got a loyal following for a reason, folks!" From the VIP section, a chorus of female voices cheered, shouting encouragements and calling his name. Nearly a dozen women leaned over the railing, waving, shouting promises and praises that made Aiden grin confidently.


    Martial masters tend to fall into two camps: either they¡¯re notoriously promiscuous, spreading their strength far and wide, or they¡¯re fiercely loyal to one partner. Many people believe that strong genes are meant to spread, that prowess should be passed down. I didn¡¯t care much for either path¡ªAiden¡¯s fan club showed he clearly leaned toward one of them. This fight wasn¡¯t going to be easy. I had no real strategy for dealing with wrestlers, no tricks for surviving on the ground. If he got me there, I¡¯d be at his mercy. I didn¡¯t plan to let it come to that. I¡¯d end this in a single blow. I couldn¡¯t use Piercing Hand; that would give me away as a disciple of Zero, a reputation I wasn¡¯t ready to reveal. Instead, I¡¯d rely on my Muay Thai. It was raw and powerful¡ªprecise enough to catch even a skilled wrestler off guard if I timed it right. The referee stepped out into the middle, silent and stoic. I¡¯d seen him announce the rules to the earlier fighters, a pointless exercise, and I guessed they¡¯d finally ditched it. He glanced between us, raising one hand as he called, ¡°Three... two... one¡­¡± With a heavy stomp, he shouted, ¡°Begin!¡±


    Aiden blinked, and in that split second, I was already in front of him. I caught a faint murmur from the announcer. "He¡¯s nearly as fast as Oliver!" I¡¯d gained speed from training with Jane. I turned my hips, pouring every ounce of strength into my strike. My fist shot toward his face¡ªuntil he leaned back just in time, dodging by a hair. Before I could adjust, his hands clamped onto my hips, pulling me down with the force of a boulder.


    He nearly lost his balance, his footing wavering, but his grip was iron-tight. I felt the ground speeding up to meet me, his hold dragging me headfirst. If I landed at this angle, I¡¯d snap my neck or worse. Could I use my hands to break the fall? No¡ªmy momentum was too strong, propelling his throw with even more force. Bracing wouldn¡¯t work either; my arms would shatter on impact. There was only one option. I drove my knee upward, fast and hard, right into his chest. I felt the impact ripple through his torso, his ribs buckling beneath the force, and his grip faltered. The throw fell apart as his body heaved, the power lost. Free from his hold, I shifted my weight, channeling the momentum into my knee, letting it drive him back. Aiden¡¯s eyes rolled back, his body going limp as he collapsed onto the sand, knocked out cold.


    The force of the throw still carried me forward, and I rolled, claws digging into the sand to stop myself. The crowd went wild, their cheers thunderous, but I had my focus set on something else¡ªsomeone else. My gaze shot up to the third level of the colosseum, to the shadowed figure watching from the exclusive lounge. The Demon Buddha, seated with his massive arms crossed, observed me like a hawk. I raised my hand and pointed straight at him, feeling the fire of the moment consume me.


    ¡°That was for you, Demon Buddha!¡± I called out, yelling as loud as feasibly possible. ¡°I shall win this tournament¡ªand then I¡¯ll challenge you. I''ll become a Flame!¡±

 Invincible

    Idiocy is what that is. Sure, I''ll give him his due credit¡ªhe was able to take out Aiden, a fairly strong wrestler with some serious accolades, in just a few seconds. But come on, we all knew Aiden was the weakest in this tournament. Vellin''s ego is writing checks his body can¡¯t cash. Ego is only justified when you¡¯ve got the power to back it up, and Vellin? He hasn¡¯t proven a damn thing yet. The only way he¡¯ll make any kind of statement is if he beats Ryan, Hal, or me¡ªthe three favorites to win this whole thing. If, by some miracle, he does manage to pull that off next round, there¡¯s still no way he beats the Demon Buddha. That guy is a monster. There are only two men stronger than him in this entire country: Sun¡¯s brightest, Leo, and Obsidian¡¯s toughest, Toda. And let¡¯s not forget, there¡¯s no time to rest after you win this thing. That¡¯s why nobody ever challenges the Flame that is assigned to watch over the tournament. Three days of brutal fighting, injuries piling up, the exhaustion from scraping through each match¡ªit¡¯s idiotic! Vellin thinks he¡¯s invincible, but he¡¯s just digging his own grave.


    Vellin returned to the dark tunnel, his steps steady, his body unscathed. The distant roar of the crowd echoed behind him, fading as he retreated into the shadows. No injuries, no signs of wear, just a cold, focused expression etched across his face. The announcer, standing just beside the imposing figure of the Demon Buddha, seized the moment. Leaning into his mic, he asked, "Demon Buddha, what are your thoughts on that chilling declaration?" The Demon Buddha¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, his voice gruff and serious, cutting through the noise like a blade. "Talk is cheap," he rumbled. "but what wasn¡¯t cheap was beating Aiden in only a few seconds. If you ask me, though, Vellin was seconds away from being killed in that throw. It¡¯s impressive how he recovered from such a position." The announcer nodded, a hint of excitement in his tone. "The last fight is destined to be impressive too! Lucas and Noah, to the stage, please!"


    I shifted my gaze to the other fighters¡ªOliver and Mason, both clutching their injuries, faces twisted in pain. Aiden wasn¡¯t even here; his harem was already rushing him to the hospital. This whole scene was just sad. Everyone on my side had lost. Sure, it didn¡¯t matter much since we¡¯d be reshuffled tomorrow, but it felt like an unlucky omen. I clenched my fists, determination boiling in my veins. I must end this streak.


    I walked out onto the sand, the gritty texture crunching beneath my sneakers. I smell blood. To my right, the half-destroyed wall where Mason had been nearly killed loomed. Every time I fight, there¡¯s that nagging worry in the back of my mind. No matter how strong I am, death is always a possibility. The announcer¡¯s voice boomed. "Look at these two fine men! On the left, Lucas! A former Finger from the Fist of God!" The crowd erupted into murmurs, some in shock, others in admiration. "Yes, I know. He''s leaving your organization to join Sun?! Calm down, we found a replacement, and Lucas has no ill will toward us. Sun and Fist of God are allied anyway."


    I suppressed a scoff. That was only half true. The real reason I left was simple¡ªI couldn¡¯t stand that insane bitch Lilith. She was a ticking time bomb, and I wasn¡¯t going to stick around to watch her explode. The announcer continued, now detailing my so-called achievements. "Lucas is a master of Reinforced Fist, with an uncanny durability! Swords made by the famous blacksmith Eishido couldn¡¯t even scratch him! When he was in our organization, he took out a whole Minor Clan on his own! Which Minor Clan, you ask? One whose history was wiped from existence!" The crowd gasped, eating up every word. But in truth, that clan wasn¡¯t anything special. Just a group of weaklings from some backwater town. Taking them out wasn¡¯t a grand feat¡ªit was more like cleaning up a mess. He stated, "His bets return one and a quarter!"


    The announcer swung his arm dramatically toward Noah, his voice full of enthusiasm. "On the right, we have Noah! Another member of the Fist of God, but from the Entertainment Sector! For those unfamiliar, the Fist of God has two sides: the actual Clan, and the Entertainment Sector. The latter consists of gladiators who don¡¯t fight for the Clan but instead battle in arenas. Noah here is the top gladiator, boasting an impressive record of eighty-six wins and only one loss! His primary martial art? Silat. And as a side gig, he even teaches it to kids! Let¡¯s hope he doesn¡¯t die today¡ªhe¡¯s actually a good guy. His bets return two times."


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I glanced at Noah. The thought of killing someone like him didn¡¯t sit well with me. He wasn¡¯t some bloodthirsty maniac, just a fighter doing what he loved. Not that it changed what needed to happen here. The referee stepped forward, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "This announcer talks way too much, but the spectators love him, so what can you do?" He shrugged. "Alright, let¡¯s get this show on the road." He raised his hand, his voice cutting through the noise. "Three... two... one..." With a sharp motion, he brought his hand down and shouted, "Begin!"


    I raised one finger, yelling. "I''ll give you one minute, Noah! Hit me as much as you want, anywhere except the groin, head, and eyes! I won¡¯t fight back. But if I¡¯m still standing by the end of that one minute, I win. Okay?" Noah didn¡¯t waste a second, appearing in front of me with a sudden burst of speed, his arms casually tucked behind his back. His eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "That¡¯s too cocky," he muttered, glancing over at the referee. "can you confirm he has to stick to that challenge?" The referee nodded with a grin. "Sure. It¡¯ll be fun to watch. If he backs out, he loses." Noah¡¯s smile twisted into something almost feral. "Are you an idiot or what?!" he barked, his excitement palpable. I braced myself, tightening every muscle in my body and planting my feet firmly into the sand. The first punch landed on my ribs¡ªa sharp jab with real force behind it. I felt nothing. Not even a flicker of pain. His expression hardened as he followed up with a roundhouse kick to the same spot. Still, nothing. I kept my face calm, almost bored. This was going to be one long, uneventful minute.


    Noah stretched his fingers out, aiming directly at my sternum. With a swift shift of his body weight forward, he hit me. A powerful gust of wind erupted from the motion, rippling through the entire arena. It was strong, I¡¯ll give him that, but nothing I couldn¡¯t handle. I yawned, barely hiding my indifference. "Ten seconds have passed." He didn¡¯t flinch, keeping his composure. Without missing a beat, he delivered another strike¡ªthis time with his other hand¡ªaiming for the same spot on my stomach. The spectators gasped audibly, a collective intake of breath. But I didn¡¯t budge. The strike was identical to Mason¡¯s one-inch punch, but lacking the extra power Mason had absorbed from Hal. It was significantly weaker in comparison. Noah¡¯s eyes narrowed as he shifted tactics, landing a punch on my shoulder. It was aimed deeper than expected, targeting my bone beneath the muscle. I could feel the precision of the strike, but it still didn¡¯t faze me. He balled his fist, the middle finger slightly extended¡ªa clear signal of his next move.


    "You do have uncanny durability," he admitted, a smirk creeping onto his face. "I¡¯m going to move onto your bone now." Lowering his stance, the veins near his elbow bulged ominously. With a sharp, explosive movement, he drove his elbow into my chest. The impact was forceful enough to push me back slightly, but the pain was negligible¡ªmaybe a one on the scale at best. His creepy smile returned as he noted my reaction. "That got you. I have thirty seconds left, I believe." Noah leapt into the air, executing a clean backflip, creating significant distance between us. I watched, my curiosity piqued. What is he up to? Before I could fully process, he jumped again, this time reaching a height of about four meters. His body poised mid-air, it became clear what he was planning. An elbow drop.


    Noah was aiming for my sternum again. I concentrated my reinforcement to that single spot, bracing for impact. He came down hard, slamming his full weight onto me. My chest heaved under the pressure, but I held firm. The sickening crack of his elbow breaking echoed through the arena, and he collapsed forward, face-planting into the sand. That must have been his ace in the hole. I couldn¡¯t help but mock him as he lay sprawled out on the ground. "Five seconds left," I taunted. His face twisted in terror. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then stopped himself. You¡¯ll get fired if you surrender, won¡¯t you? I thought, smirking.


    "Zero." I announced.


    I closed the distance between us. Grabbing him with my leg, I lifted his limp body off the ground, his stomach curling over my foot. I chambered my leg, feeling the tension build, then unleashed a powerful kick. Noah flew high into the air, his body flailing as he reached the peak of his ascent. For a brief moment, he seemed suspended in time before gravity took over, pulling him down rapidly. He hit the ground, then rising a foot from the rebound. His body raddled. The referee stood there, stunned, at a loss for words. I shot him a glance and spoke evenly. "Go ahead and call the match so he can get medical attention, would you?" The referee snapped out of his daze, raising his arm. "Noah has collapsed! Winner... Lucas!"

 Weight

    "Did you catch that?" I said, biting into one of the crisp, complimentary apple slices in the VIP room. The ambiance around us was luxurious yet tense; even the polished marble floors and ornate chandeliers couldn¡¯t distract from the intense energy buzzing from the arena. Jane, wide-eyed and a bit pale, replied, "Yes. I ''caught'' all of it." Her hands were clenched.


    "His durability and endurance are off the charts." she continued, still shaken. "Each one of those special techniques Noah used would be a win condition against most martial artists. I can see why he¡¯s won eighty-six fights." I leaned forward, chewing thoughtfully before I responded. "Lucas most likely has a blessed body." "Blessed body?" Jane¡¯s head tilted in curiosity, her eyes narrowing slightly. In response, I straightened my middle finger, gripping my forearm firmly before making a deep cut across the skin. Blood pooled but barely trickled, and I held my arm out to her, unflinching. "That barely hurt me," I said calmly, "and this will heal within twenty minutes. That¡¯s my blessing: pain tolerance and rapid recovery."


    I continued, seeing the understanding dawning in her eyes. "There are three types of bodies. Blessed bodies, normal bodies, and rough bodies. Rough bodies are unsuitable for martial arts¡ªpeople with illnesses, deformities, things like that. Normal bodies are the opposite; nothing really setting them apart, but they¡¯re capable, functional. Most martial artists have normal bodies. But blessed bodies¡­ these are rare. They¡¯re mutations from birth or inherited traits from powerful lineages that make the martial path much smoother. Mine, for example, grants me increased recovery. Lucas must have one too to be that durable." Jane nodded thoughtfully, her gaze shifting between me and the arena where Lucas had just left his mark. "I see, I see. So what do you think his mutation is?"


    I leaned back in the plush leather chair, tapping my fingers against the armrest as I considered. "Unless I¡¯m horribly mistaken, it¡¯s muscle density. He can pack far more muscle than the average person with the same frame. I was already suspicious when I heard rumors of him weighing two hundred and fifty pounds, even though he¡¯s only five eleven and looks like a super middleweight at best." She looked back toward the viewing glass, eyes narrowed in thought as she absorbed what I said. "He''s the one to beat in this tournament.¡± I concluded, crossing my arms. "Not Ryan. Unless Ryan¡¯s hiding something extraordinary too."


    The announcer¡¯s voice filled the arena with a lingering hum of energy. "That''s the end of the first round, folks!" he declared, his voice crackling slightly through the speakers. "Bets will increase tomorrow! Our four semi-finalists are Lucas, Vellin, Hal, and Ryan! The second round will be even better! These four are on the same level, I''d argue. Who knows, though? They could be hiding things from us!"


    With that, the speakers clicked off, and the murmur of the audience filled the arena as people began to pack up their things. Despite the brevity of the round¡ªjust an hour of high-octane matches¡ªpeople were happy. I stretched my armst, and popped a small, savory chunk of cheese into my mouth, savoring the sharp flavor as I turned to Jane. "I need to show you something," I said, swallowing the last bite. "I want to reassure you that I will win this." Jane raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and stood up from her seat. "I''ll follow you." A small smile crept onto my face. "Actually, I need you to take me somewhere. To where you bought that armor a few days ago." Her expression shifted as she folded her arms across her chest, giving me a scrutinizing look before nodding. "This way, then." She turned, leading me out of the VIP area and through the rows of chairs and tables


    We headed down the stairs, weaving through the crowd, a voice suddenly rang out behind me. "Yo, is that Vellin?!" I felt a hand clasp my shoulder before I could react. There were people packed around us on all sides¡ªI really didn¡¯t want to make a scene. I kept my tone even, barely turning. "Yes." The woman wasn¡¯t satisfied with a simple acknowledgment. Her grip tightened on my shoulder. "You beat up Aiden. Come here!" she demanded. Without looking at her, I took hold of her wrist, my gaze fixed straight ahead. "There are two reasons I¡¯m holding back right now," I said in a low, steady tone. "first, because you¡¯re a woman. Second, and much more important, because I don¡¯t want to get others involved." People around us stopped, their conversations trailing off as they turned to watch. She tried to pull her arm free, though not very forcefully, her defiance faltering.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    Before the situation could escalate, Jane stepped forward, her movements sharp and precise, and slapped the woman across the face. "It was a fair match!" she snapped. The woman¡¯s face flushed with shock, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Her posture shifted, her anger draining away as she looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I¡¯m... sorry." I released her hand, and, as if the tension had been broken, people resumed their movements around us, the moment slipping back into the crowd¡¯s buzz like a ripple vanishing in water. We continued down the stairs. That woman didn¡¯t realize just how lucky she was¡ªif she¡¯d crossed the line, Jane would¡¯ve taken her out in one swift punch.


    Ten minutes later..


    We stopped in front of a run-down, weathered blue shack with a battered wooden sign overhead that simply read, "smithy". No name, no details, nothing else to indicate ownership or credibility. I chuckled as I took it all in. "This is who you bought armor from?" Jane elbowed me, giving me a sharp look. "Don''t judge things by appearances." Easy for her to say. Judging by appearances had worked just fine for me so far. Still, I kept quiet as she knocked on the door, calling out, "I¡¯m coming in." She pushed the door open, and we stepped inside. The change was immediate¡ªfar from the rough exterior, the interior was surprisingly organized, with rows of finely crafted armor and weaponry displayed on stands and racks. Swords gleamed on one side, axes and spears on another, but not a single bow in sight. The craftsmanship was impressive; each piece looked durable and carefully designed, clearly meant for real combat, not just show.


    Behind the front desk sat an old man, short and wiry, with a long white beard that reached down to his chest. He eyed us with a sharp, unflinching gaze. "What do ya want, twerps?" Jane nudged me forward, folding her arms. "Well, go on. Talk to him." I stepped up, glancing at the armors around me. "What¡¯s your strongest armor?" I asked, keeping my tone polite but direct. Jane tapped my shoulder urgently. "Hey, armor isn¡¯t allowed in the tourna¡ª" I placed my finger over her mouth gently, giving her a reassuring look. "Trust me."


    The old man grunted and leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Usually people introduce themselves first. That¡¯s strike one." I held back a smirk, deciding it was best not to push my luck. "Sorry. My name¡¯s Vellin, and I assume you already know my girlfriend, Jane." I raised an eyebrow. "Didn¡¯t you just call us twerps, though?" He slammed his cane against the floor with a loud thud, his eyes flashing. "I know who you are, kiddo! I watched the tournament. And she¡¯s right¡ªarmor isn¡¯t allowed in the tournament." Still grumbling, he got up from his seat, his movements slower but sure, and made his way to the back. He shot us a knowing look over his shoulder. "I¡¯ll bring it out¡ªwait here." He opened the door to a storage room in the back, disappearing and shutting the door firmly behind him.


    No more than twenty seconds later, the old man returned, placing a dark, gleaming chestplate on the desk between us. It had a rugged, almost ominous sheen to it, like something forged from shadow itself. He tapped it with pride. "This is my strongest chestplate, made of darksteel. Fifty times stronger than regular steel." He gave me a measuring look. "If you want to buy it, it¡¯ll cost you three gold."


    I examined the dense, near-impenetrable surface, and said, "I don¡¯t want to buy it. However¡­" I let the pause hang as he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. I dropped my last four gold coins onto the desk. "Let¡¯s make a bet. If I can pierce this plate with my finger, I keep my money, but you get to keep the armor. If I can¡¯t, you¡¯ll get these four gold pieces and still keep the armor. Good bet, right?" A glint sparked in his eye, and he let out a low chuckle. "Heheh¡­ you may be strong, kiddo, but with a single finger?" He gave the chestplate an affectionate pat, looking at me with amused confidence. "Sure, sure. Pay me for something you won¡¯t even own."


    He held it up, steadying it in front of me. "Give it your best shot." I took a breath, focused, and straightened my middle finger, pulling my arm back slightly to chamber the strike. I felt the energy coil within my muscles, my finger sharpening to a point in both mind and motion. With a quick, precise thrust, my fingertip pierced cleanly through the darksteel plate, the resistance crumbling under the pinpointed force. The old man¡¯s jaw dropped. I turned to Jane, who looked equally stunned, and offered her a small, confident smile. "This is the technique that¡¯ll beat Lucas tomorrow." I said calmly. "Needle Point."

 Within

    Twenty hours later..


    "Those four were pretty silent yesterday." I said, shaking my head. "God forbid we get a repeat of what happened ten years ago." I winced slightly. "It seems they want to solve this in the ring, though, so maybe we¡¯re in for a safer kind of spectacle." I pointed up toward the massive scoreboard displaying the fighters¡¯ names in bold letters, the hum of the crowd swelling with anticipation.


    "It''s day two of the Burnout Tournament, and the second round is bound to be exciting!" My voice lifted in an attempt to match the crowd¡¯s growing enthusiasm. "Well, not like the other four were boring."


    I gestured to the betting station, a bustling hive of activity where fans lined up, clutching tickets and chattering in excited whispers. "For Ryan and Hal, their bets both return one and a half times. As a specialty for round two, we have some stats on who had the most bets."


    I paused as Manny stepped up beside me, appearing just at the edge of my vision with a paper in hand. He handed me the betting stats sheet. I glanced down at the paper, eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, folks! It''s¡­ near even?!" My voice carried over the loudspeakers, sparking murmurs through the audience. "Ryan has fifty-two percent of the bets, while Hal has forty-eight." I announced.


    I placed the paper down on my desk with a firm pat, leaning into the microphone as I spoke. "I''ve announced and given commentary on fights for five years now. Firsthand, I¡¯ve seen gladiators rise like legends and fall just as spectacularly. You think they¡¯re unbeatable, but then they lose so badly you¡¯re left wondering why you ever put your faith in them!" I paused. "But it¡¯s not that the fighter is weak," I continued, my voice intense, "it¡¯s that their opponent is just too strong!"


    I leaned forward, moving the loudspeaker closer to amplify the thrill. "Now, folks, let¡¯s look back at what we¡¯ve already seen! Hal claimed his victory in dominant fashion, leaving no room for doubt. Ryan, though¡ªhe won, yes, but after taking a beating that would''ve brought anyone else to their knees! So what does that tell us? Was Mason an easier target than Oliver, or was Oliver even stronger than we expected?! Well, we¡¯re about to find out¡­ right now!"


    I pointed out to the arena, my arm sweeping toward the action below as I rallied the crowd. "Say it with the referee, folks!" The referee, standing poised on the sandy floor, raised his hand as the countdown began. His voice rang out loud and clear, "Three... two... one..." The crowd, practically vibrating with excitement, took over as the countdown reached its peak. With one explosive voice, they roared, "Begin!"


    Petty theatrics. Hal''s face contorted unnaturally, his lips curling back, eyes narrowing like a predator stalking its prey. Every muscle in his face and neck tightened with a disturbing intensity. He''s in the zone¡ªcompletely focused, honed to a razor''s edge. I¡¯d studied his patterns from the previous fight, noting every preferred move, every tell. Hal loved hammer fists and wide, powerful strikes, trading subtlety for brute force.


    Hal charged forward, his heavy footsteps shaking the arena floor. I followed, keeping my steps light, calculating. Just as he closed in, I leapt into the air, extending my right leg in a high arc, muscles taut. In response, Hal cocked his arm back, winding up a punch that promised bone-crushing force. He unleashed his power as my fist met his foot with an explosive clash, the collision sending shockwaves radiating.


    He pivoted, his feet gliding with surprising agility. He switched stances smoothly and lunged, snatching my ankle in a vice-like grip with his left hand. I twisted in his hold, using my momentum to spin and gather force. With a brutal upward kick, I connected with his chin, dislocating it. Despite that, I felt no satisfying crack or snap¡ªhe took the hit without a shudder. I need more stopping power. Hal¡¯s grip tightened, his fingers digging into my ankle as he sneered. With his free hand, he reached up and, with a grimace, wrenched his jaw back into place, snapping it into position. Then, with a primal roar, he heaved me toward the wall.


    I landed with my toes pressed against the wall. The impact left a crater, cracks radiating outward. The wall held firm beneath me. I could feel the faint tremor under my feet as I balanced, the solid stone resisting collapse. Hal let out a guttural yell¡ªa primal, animalistic sound that echoed across the arena. ¡°Ergghh!¡±


    His body twisted downward as he dropped onto all fours, tearing across the sand like a wild beast, kicking up dust with each powerful stride. His eyes glinted with a ferocity that felt almost otherworldly. I stepped back down onto the sand, planting my feet with purpose, spreading my arms wide as if inviting him forward.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    He accepted instantly, launching himself toward me with reckless abandon, his hands stretched forward in a desperate, lunging takedown. Timing it perfectly, I arced a powerful question mark kick, sweeping my leg in a sharp, deceptive motion that collided with his cheek, cratering his face with an audible crunch. His head snapped to the side, but somehow, his momentum barely slowed. He kept barreling forward, eyes fixed on me with an unnerving intensity.


    I wove to the side just as he hurtled past, his hulking frame slamming into the wall with a force that nearly shattered it entirely. Stone and dust rained down around him, fragments clattering to the ground. I backpedaled quickly, putting as much distance between us as I could, my breaths coming faster as I strategized my next move. Hal wasn¡¯t finished.


    Unstoppable, he turned his body toward me again, rising to his feet this time with an animalistic determination. I watched him approach. He threw a wild uppercut, the sheer force behind it slicing deep into my shoulder even though I¡¯d twisted and leaned back to dodge. Pain shot through me, but I forced myself to focus, refusing to give him an inch. I retaliated with a powerful kick to his chest, but Hal only grinned through the impact, his eyes alight with a twisted, frenzied delight. He barely flinched, the strike seeming to fuel him rather than deter him.


    With frightening speed, he reached down, swiping at my leg to catch my foot. Instinctively, I chambered it back just in time, avoiding his hold by a hair¡¯s breadth. This wasn¡¯t how Hal had fought before. There had always been a beast-like ferocity to his movements, but he¡¯d mocked between strikes, taunted Mason with jeers and jabs. Now, there was something darkly focused about him.


    Hal lifted his right arm high above his head, muscles rippling as he readied himself for a hammer fist. I steadied my breath, reading his movement, then spun with as much force as I could muster, completing a full rotation before planting a back kick squarely into his sternum. I felt the solid impact resonate up my leg, heard his groan as it drove into his chest, but he held his ground, barely shifting as he absorbed the blow. A flicker of panic hit me¡ªI was exposed. His arm was already coming down toward my back.


    Angling my leg just right, I dropped to the ground, placing both hands down and sweeping. My leg struck Hal¡¯s shins hard, his balance crumbling as he stumbled. His fist, fully cocked and ready, missed me by inches, whizzing by my face. I felt a sudden tug from my pants. To my dismay, Hal had snatched me mid-fall, his pinky and thumb alone holding my clothing. We both hit the ground hard, sprawled out side by side.


    I twisted up, using the moment to land a powerful kick to his chest, targeting the same battered spot I¡¯d struck before. This time, I felt the impact reverberate even deeper, and I saw the briefest flash of pain in his eyes. His hand shot up, clamping down around my leg with a crushing force. Pain flooded my senses¡ªmy leg was already broken, and he was only making it worse. In a flash of fury, I yelled, ¡°Just die, you stupid dog!¡±


    I wrenched free, regaining my footing with a determination fueled by desperation. Gritting my teeth, I raised my foot as high as I could. This time, I was going for a stomp, a brutal, decisive blow meant to end this once and for all. I brought my foot down with all my might, aiming to crush him into the ground.


    He threw me backward before my foot could land, hurling me through the air like a ragdoll. Instinctively, I tried to stop my fall, but in said panic, I landed on my broken leg, only furthering the damage on my limb. I gasped, forcing myself to switch feet, pushing through the agony to regain my stance. He still stood, looming before me with that same relentless fire in his eyes. He just won¡¯t go down!


    Hal leaned forward, his right arm extending like a battering ram. His hand clamped around his own bicep, veins bulging as he gripped it tightly, summoning blood flow and strength to amplify his power. using Reinforced Fist. Fine, fine, fine! I¡¯d wanted to prove I could win without using his techniques, but the time for holding back had passed. Fine, fine, fine!! In an instant, Hal exploded forward, his speed unlike anything shown in this tournament¡ªbarreling toward me.


    I quickly placed one heel against the wall behind me, curling up into a tight ball, preparing to expand. I whispered to myself, calming the pounding in my chest. Across the way, Hal''s lips curled in a snarl as he charged, drool dripping from his mouth, overtaken by the beast within him.


    I looked into his wild eyes, feeling a pang of understanding. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ve been through, Hal... maybe it¡¯s not so different from me. The difference is that you gave in¡ªwhile I conquered my beast! I launched off the wall, my body uncoiling as I thrust my leading leg forward, arms crossing tightly over my torso. My body gathered momentum, whirling faster with each rotation. This was everything I¡¯d fought to achieve, a technique born from that room¡ªthe Vermillion Drill!


    The arena fell into absolute silence, grains of sand and dust swirling around us, cloaking the aftermath of our clash. The announcer¡¯s voice echoed in the silence, breaking through the haze. ¡°Woah, woah!! Who won?!¡± The dust settled, and I planted my foot on the ground, sending a tremor through the sand as I stood tall. I stomped once, the force clearing the last of the dust, revealing Hal¡¯s body sprawled out behind me, battered and broken. I stared at his unmoving form. My entire body relaxed, worn.


    I cried out, "YEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!"

 Knockout

    "A whirlwind of emotion bellows out from Ryan!", the announcer said. The crowd roared in disbelief, their cheers mingling with astonished murmurs. ¡°Look at all the damage he took! It¡¯s amazing how he¡¯s standing!¡± the announcer exclaimed. It¡¯s more than amazing. It¡¯s a miracle. Hal, the number-one mercenary in the country¡ªrevered, undefeated, and feared¡ªis lying on the ground. And Ryan, someone whose only affiliation is with Grandmaster Ryuha, just bested him.


    My fingers trembled slightly as I clenched my fists. If I win my fight, I¡¯ll have to face him next. He''s easier to beat than Lucas. My focus has to be here and now. Lucas is more than a mere beast. He¡¯s a hunter, and I¡¯m his prey. Even if I was able to use my full power, it''d still be tough. It¡¯s clear to everyone that I¡¯m the underdog in this fight. Needle Point could give me an edge.


    The precision, power, and speed of the technique is my only chance. But it comes with a cost. I winced, imagining the sharp snap of my finger breaking if I overused it. Lucas¡¯ body is as unyielding as steel; too many strikes, and I¡¯d cripple myself before the fight¡¯s end. I¡¯ll have to use it sparingly, only when absolutely necessary.


    A groan from the arena caught my attention. My gaze shifted to see Hal being loaded onto a stretcher. The sight brought a dark satisfaction to the pit of my stomach. Serves him right. ¡°And now... for the final fight of the day!¡± the announcer¡¯s voice boomed. The crowd erupted in wild cheers as my name was called. ¡°Vellin¡­ versus Lucas!¡±


    The locker room door creaked open, and Ryan stepped in. His expression was unreadable, but his voice carried a surprising warmth as he said, ¡°Good luck.¡±


    He closed the door and disappeared. Him, of all people, saying that? I slapped myself. I keep getting distracted.


    "There he is! Vellin and Lucas are entering the arena now! This will decide who faces Ryan in the final round!" The crowd erupted into a cacophony of chants.


    My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest as I stepped into the arena, the sand crunching. I cracked my neck, trying to work out the tension. If Lucas lands even one kick or punch, it¡¯s over. His power is undeniable. The only advantage I have is his speed, and even that feels tenuous in the face of his overwhelming strength.


    The announcer shuffled some papers, ¡°The betting is oddly stacked in Vellin¡¯s favor. Sixty to forty. We¡¯re gonna make a lot of money tonight.¡± Lucas paid no attention to the announcer''s remarks. His cold, unrelenting gaze was locked on me, and every step he took seemed to make the ground shudder. The referee stepped forward, raising his arms in an attempt to maintain some semblance of order. ¡°Hey, Lucas, hold it! The match hasn¡¯t even¡ª¡±


    Lucas brushed past him with a forceful shove, sending the poor man stumbling to the side. The referee staggered but caught himself, muttering under his breath as he dusted off his uniform. ¡°These cocky, rude... whatever.¡± He straightened up, raised his hand, and counted down quickly, fed up with our antics. ¡°Three¡­ two¡­ one¡­ Begin!¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    I angled my arm low, moving it in a deliberate, rhythmic motion, like the arc of a pendulum. The tension in my body must¡¯ve been obvious because his guard is down. He could sense my unease, but that was fine¡ªit played into my plan. I focused intently on his head, the one area he wouldn¡¯t be able to reinforce. My guard stayed low, feet bouncing lightly on the balls of my toes. Lucas advanced.


    As soon as he stepped into range, I launched a roundhouse kick, aiming for his shoulder. The impact sent a shock up my leg. It was like kicking a wall. Lucas barely flinched, tanking the hit as if it were nothing more than an annoying breeze. My shin wavered from the recoil. He can reinforce nearly instantly! Or was that just his base durability?


    Lucas¡¯s fist came hurtling toward me¡ªa wide, brutal hook aimed squarely at my chin. I managed to duck, weaving back just in time to feel the air whistle past my face. I surged forward, taking advantage of the opening. My fist snapped out twice, lightning-fast strikes landing directly on his face. Lucas stumbled back slightly, blood trickling from his nose in a thin red line. His nostrils flared as he reached up to touch it, the first crack in his seemingly invincible armor. Perfect! He isn¡¯t invincible!


    I''m not thinking that.


    I¡¯ve just confirmed it¡ªI can land easy hits on him. This is the perfect time to use Needle Point. Lucas threw another haymaker, his powerful arm arcing toward me. I prepared my finger. My arm sliced through the air, barreling toward his chest in a blur. Lucas¡¯s hand shot up with alarming precision, catching my wrist mid-strike.


    His grip was painfully firm. "My brother lives in Het." he said, his voice guttural, a growl that carried a chilling calmness. "He spoke of a man who pierced opponents with his fingers. I asked one of the gate guards about you."


    Shut up! I struggled to free myself. I swung a fist at his nose, putting every ounce of frustration into the strike, though his face didn¡¯t even flinch.


    "When you entered the city," he continued, unfazed, "your clothes had dried blood. It was only a suspicion... until you pierced that armor one of my favorite blacksmiths made." Was he following me this entire time?


    He quipped, "I¡¯m clever too, on top of my strength." He released my wrist and stepped back, his posture shifting as he chambered an attack. The tension in the air became suffocating. His muscles bulged, the veins along his arms pulsing with a ferocity that dwarfed even Hal¡¯s.


    Then it came.


    His fist drove into my gut with the force of a charging bull, the impact ripping through my body like a thunderclap. My feet left the ground, and for a split second, the world blurred into a haze of pain. My limbs went limp, the strength draining out of me like water from a cracked jar. My vision swam, dark edges creeping inward as my knees threatened to buckle. The sand beneath me seemed miles away, and my breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. Am I going to lose?!


    Lucas, to my surprise, didn¡¯t go for another strike. Instead, his massive hand steadied me as I crumpled, and with an uncharacteristic gentleness, he laid me onto the ground. The cool sand beneath me felt like the only solid thing in a world that was spinning out of control. His figure loomed over me as he turned to the referee and said, his tone devoid of malice, ¡°Call it.¡± The referee hesitated, glancing at me briefly before raising his hand.


    By then, my vision had already begun to fade, the vibrant chaos melting into a dim, muted haze. My heart pounded sluggishly in my chest, each beat slower and weaker than the last. My body wasn''t responding to my will anymore. Just like that, it was over. I was defeated.


    Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump..


    Thump, thump, thump..


    Thump, thump..


    Thump, thump..


    Thump..


    Ba-dump!

 Lineage

    The referee raised my hand high into the air, "Winner, Luca¨C"


    But before the final syllable left his lips, a ripple of gasps spread through the crowd. Vellin, battered and broken, rose, defying logic itself. His head tilted up, and his eyes locked onto mine with focus. The audience erupted, their cheers swelling with admiration for his unyielding resolve. A low tremor ran through the ground as he steadied himself, and the dust that clung to the air began to vibrate, circling him like a warning. His presence was suffocating, a cold weight that pressed against my chest.


    I clenched my fists and cracked my knuckles, the sound sharp and deliberate as it cut through the noise. "You should''ve just stayed down." I said. "I don''t think I can win without killing you now."


    He gave no response, no sign of acknowledgment. His face remained an emotionless mask, devoid of pain or hesitation, as though he were carved from stone. Does he think he''s cool? That blank stare felt unnervingly hollow, as if his body moved on instinct alone. His form blurred. One moment, he lay crumpled on the ground; the next, he vanished in a streak of motion, his previous position now marked by a shallow imprint in the dirt.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the faintest flicker of movement. I raised my guard just in time to block a ferocious hook aimed at my temple. The force reverberated through my arms, and I had to reinforce my stance to stay grounded. His speed... it had increased even further?! My eyes darted to him, but the sharp sting in my arm made me realize too late¡ªmy bicep had been slashed, blood dripping down in crimson streaks. My gaze locked onto his hand, his fingers forming a sharp pointer. So, that finger trick wasn¡¯t his only secret?


    He seized my wrist with an iron grip and unleashed three rapid punches straight to my nose. I struggled to react, my reflexes lagging behind. If he kept targeting my face like this, I wouldn¡¯t last much longer. Wait a moment. This isn¡¯t bad¡ªthis is an opportunity.


    I mirrored his grip, locking onto his wrist. My voice carried a mocking edge, "You shouldn''t get up close with me!"


    I threw a feinted overhand, baiting him with what looked like a desperate strike. In truth, my real aim was an uppercut from below. As I shifted my weight to deliver the blow, a sudden, sharp prickle shot through my wrist tendon. The pain forced my grip to weaken, and I instinctively released him.


    Vellin capitalized instantly, weaving past my interrupted uppercut with unnerving fluidity. He leapt onto my extended fist, balancing on his toes as if gravity had no claim on him. His movement was almost surreal. Then, with a snap of his body, his leg shot out, his foot crashing into my face with pinpoint accuracy. I staggered back. My vision swam for a brief moment, and I clenched my teeth and planted my feet. I have to end this now.


    I snapped my fist back, pulling it away just as Vellin lost his footing, the ground beneath him momentarily vanishing. Without hesitation, I reinforced my arm, putting every ounce of strength into a devastating overhand strike aimed to crush his defense. The force behind the punch was undeniable¡ªbut so was his reaction. Vellin caught my fist in his left palm. The sharp crack of bones echoed loudly. Got him!


    Or so I thought. He shifted unnaturally, balancing precariously on my extended arm. Suddenly, a searing pain tore through my forearm as his hand slashed across it. The cut was deep, and the white gleam of bone flashed beneath the torn flesh. My mind reeled.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    How is he doing this? This wasn''t ordinary movement¡ªit was primal, you can''t study this. The fluidity, the adaptability¡ªit reminds me of Toda! He swung himself along my arm like a pendulum, his momentum building as he launched a brutal kick to my chin. My head snapped back violently, stars dancing in my vision. The sheer force left me staggering. I¡¯m... getting overwhelmed.


    Every strike, every move¡ªinstinct elevated to a terrifying level! I swung my arm violently, dislodging him at last. He flipped through the air with unnatural grace, his body twisting mid-flight before landing silently. I flexed my torn forearm, the fibers knitting together just enough to restore some functionality.


    My vision blurred, the edges fading into a haze as exhaustion and blood loss began to take their toll. Vellin moved forward, unhurried and deliberate, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. The calmness in his approach.. is that even the right way? Guards should be up at all times! With this idiotic decision made, I can land a hit! Just one is needed! Clenching my teeth, I launched a desperate right straight, putting everything into the strike.


    Vellin twisted his head slightly, letting the blow slice harmlessly past him. I immediately followed with a wild, off-kilter left hook, hoping the unpredictability would catch him off guard. Yet again, he evaded effortlessly, leaning forward at just the right angle to make me miss. No... no, this just isn¡¯t possible!


    Out of options, I crouched low and hurled a handful of sand from the ground into his face. If nothing else, it would buy me time.


    Vellin didn¡¯t even blink.


    The grains scattered uselessly across his face as he continued his slow, relentless march toward me. Desperation turned into resolve as I tightened my fist harder than ever before. It hurts, but it''s needed! This is it! This is the peak of my Reinforced Body ! If I land this, it¡¯s over. I¡¯ll blow his head clean off. My body screamed in protest as I cocked my arm back, the muscles tearing further under the strain.


    Vellin broke through the lingering dust cloud like a specter, faster than I could process. His leg snapped out, a precise kick to my cocked fist, deflecting it upward. My arm twisted painfully, revealing the exposed gash in my forearm, the raw sinew glaring back at me. For a brief, horrifying moment, I saw his eyes¡ªcompletely red from the dust.


    His next movement blurred into a streak. I barely registered the motion until the searing pain erupted, sharper than anything I had ever felt. I staggered backward, numb and in shock, only to see it¡ªthe impossible, horrifying truth. My arm lay on the ground in front of me, severed cleanly. Blood pooled beneath it.


    A blood-curdling scream tore from my throat as agony coursed through my body. My severed arm bled profusely, the reinforcement technique I had used now turning against me, amplifying the blood loss. Dropping to my knees, I clutched desperately at the gaping wound, my fingers slick with my own blood. I need to stop the bleeding... I have to stop it, or I''ll... My vision swam as my strength waned. A shadow loomed over me. I looked up just in time to see Vellin¡¯s foot, his expressionless face not about to show me mercy.


    I shouted, "I surrender! I surrender, please!!" My voice cracked.


    The referee¡¯s voice rang out, urgent. "This match has ended! Vellin, you won! Stop!" He sprinted toward us, an admirable attempt to intervene. But I knew¡ªdeep down, I knew¡ªit wouldn¡¯t matter. None of us could stop Vellin now. He wasn¡¯t just fighting; he was consumed, driven by something, something that was just a part of him. Vellin raised his hand high, his fingers poised in that deadly spear-like form. The sunlight behind him bent and fractured, casting long shadows that made it seem as though the sun was cleaved in two. I froze, my body unable to move.


    This is it. This is how I die?


    A massive arm shot into Vellin''s face with the speed and power of a transcended being. Wind ripped some spectators clothing. Vellin¡¯s body was hurled downward. His head smashed into the ground, the impact creating a massive crater that swallowed dust nearly reaching the concrete beneath. The rampage, as sudden as it had begun, was over in an instant. Standing over the destruction was... the Demon Buddha. His hand, still outstretched, retracted slowly as his gaze never moved away from Vellin.


    He caressed his abs, which were cut, "So I was right... you''re their kid."

 Family

    My eyes shot open. A sharp, searing pain radiated through my body. I groaned softly, the ache impossible to ignore, as if my entire being had been wrung out and left to dry. A heavy blanket pressed down on me, its weight both a comfort and a prison. The room around me was small, dimly lit by the faint glow of a oil lamp hung overhead. I blinked, trying to orient myself. Is this where I ended up after losing?


    God... that was pathetic. The memory of the fight clawed its way to the forefront of my mind. He had more experience than me. I clenched my jaw, the bitterness of defeat settling like a stone in my gut. Hopefully Jane isn¡¯t traumatized. The thought of her witnessing my humiliation made the sting even worse. I need to thank Lucas for not killing me. Shifting beneath the blanket, I winced as my muscles protested the movement.


    The sterile smell of disinfectant filled my nose, and my surroundings became clearer. The realization hit me like a splash of cold water: I¡¯m in a hospital. The stark white walls and the soft hum of medical equipment confirmed it, as did the sharp tug of something attached to my arm. I glanced down, noticing a thin tube leading to an unfamiliar device beside the bed. Frowning, I grasped at it, giving it a slight wiggle, my curiosity overriding my discomfort. I¡¯ve never seen this before.


    A deep voice rumbled through the quiet, startling me. "State-of-the-art medical equipment. Courtesy of me."


    I froze, then turned my gaze toward the source. Sitting casually in a metal chair near the door, arms crossed over his chest, was the Demon Buddha himself. His imposing frame seemed almost too large for the modest seat, his presence commanding even in stillness. I moved again, but something warm and soft brushed against my legs. I glanced down to find Jane sprawled across me, her small form rising and falling with the rhythm of her breathing. Her weight pinned me in place, a tether to reality in this strange, clinical space. My lips twitched into a faint smile as I gently wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer without waking her.


    My gaze flicked back to the Demon Buddha, suspicion creeping into my voice. ¡°What do you want? Did you¡­ notice it?¡±


    "Of course I did. You used Piercing Hand. His martial arts style." he said.


    My instincts flared, and adrenaline surged through me. I have to fight! I primed my hand, fingers tensing as I prepared for an attack. The weight of Jane on my legs was the only thing keeping me from springing out of the bed entirely.


    He raised a hand, his expression calm yet commanding. "Calm down," he said, shaking his head. "I won''t misunderstand like the others. I''m actually glad you''re here."


    I froze, thrown off by his words. What¡¯s he talking about? He leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting to something almost nostalgic. "When Zero took you all those years ago, I was just a teenager. In the Leadership War, your parents sided with Zero¡ªthat was their one and only mistake." He paused, a flicker of regret crossing his features. "Leo¡­ and God willing, I wish it could¡¯ve gone another way, killed them. It was painless."


    The words hit me like a hammer to the chest. My breathing slowed, the weight of his revelation sinking in. "But you''re here now." he continued, his voice steady but tinged with emotion. "And you escaped! You even learned his style, which was nearly lost to time." He stood up from his chair, his towering form casting a shadow across the sterile hospital room. The metal groaned softly under the sudden release of his weight. "Your parents and I had a great relationship. They were like my aunt and uncle. I do not blame them for being manipulated by Zero¡¯s idealism." He exhaled, his arms falling to his sides as his gaze grew distant. "We live in a world of ruthlessness, where kindness is for fools. They were like light."


    His eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time, I saw something beyond his usual stoic demeanor. Was it¡­ sincerity? Reverence? I couldn¡¯t tell, although his words were clear. "You are light too." he said, his voice soft yet firm. "You are the last Cardaire." Cardaire? That sounds.. familiar. I blinked, trying to process it. I assume he¡¯s talking about my parents...


    My fists clenched tightly at my sides, the rage and confusion boiling inside me. "Why did you let Sun change?" I demanded, my voice shaking with anger. "If my parents were light, then you''re darkness."


    His face darkened, contorting with anger as his voice sharpened. ¡°Don¡¯t insult me, Vellin. Sun is not in its best state right now. The only reason we¡¯re like this is because we¡¯re weak. For God¡¯s sake, Obsidian is equal to us now! We used to eclipse them by miles.¡± His fists clenched. ¡°If we stayed under Zero¡¯s leadership, we would never have won the war against them. Leo was needed, and that¡¯s why the majority of Sun allied with him¡ªand still follow him. Leo will change when this is all over. I trust him.¡± This makes things a bit more complicated. Zero painted himself as the rightful leader, unjustly overthrown. Which, technically, he was. They have their reasons for their actions. Does that justify what they do now?If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Jane stirred, rubbing at one bleary eye as she pushed herself upright. ¡°Sorry, Caleb,¡± she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. ¡°I fell asleep...¡± Caleb. That¡¯s his name.


    Jane¡¯s eyes began to glisten with unshed tears as she turned to me, her expression melting into one of relief. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms tightly around me. This time, her aim was true. ¡°You¡¯re okay!¡± she cried, her voice cracking as she clung to me. ¡°Thank goodness...¡±


    I hugged her back, the warmth of her embrace momentarily easing the storm inside me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for worrying you,¡± I whispered, my voice low with guilt. ¡°I won¡¯t do something like that again.¡±


    Caleb¡¯s serious demeanor softened as he chuckled. ¡°You¡¯re well underway to carrying on their legacy.¡± He rose from his chair, and extended a hand toward me. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of canceling the tournament and bringing both you and Ryan in as Officers. You¡¯re too valuable to lose. We¡¯re family.¡±


    Family? I glanced at his outstretched hand, but the weight of my failure bore down on me. ¡°I lost,¡± I admitted, my voice heavy with shame. ¡°I lost to Lucas. He was just too strong.¡±


    Caleb hesitated, then slowly withdrew his hand. His expression shifted, and he spoke again, his words careful yet electrifying. ¡°Oh... I forgot to tell you.¡± I looked up, confused by the sudden change in tone. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, it felt as though he could see through me¡ªpast flesh and bone, into something deeper. ¡°Your lineage is special.¡± he said. ¡°Your mom and dad were exceptionally kind, but inside their souls... a god resides.¡±


    I tilted my head, confusion etched into my face. ¡°What are you talking about? I lost, man.¡±


    Jane jumped in, her voice firm and insistent. ¡°No, you didn¡¯t. After you got knocked out... you rose again. You continued to fight, but in a different way. You were efficient, dominant.¡±


    Caleb nodded, his expression resolute. ¡°Your girlfriend is right. You awakened that god.¡± His tone carried a gravity that made the air in the room feel heavier. ¡°To awaken it at the age of twenty... a late bloomer.¡± He chuckled softly. ¡°We¡¯ll discuss Zero and where we can catch him another time. He¡¯s probably already moved from where he trained you.¡± His voice faltered slightly, and to my shock, I saw a tear streak down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly. ¡°I¡¯m just glad we¡¯re together again.¡±


    I swiped his hand away as he offered it once more, standing my ground. ¡°Thanks for the gesture,¡± I said firmly, ¡°but I will win the tournament fair and square. I don¡¯t care if you recruit Ryan, either. I will not go back on my word¡ªI will beat you and become a Flame.¡±


    Caleb regarded me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned and walked toward the door. Ducking under the low frame, he paused and glanced back, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°If that¡¯s your choice, so be it. Don¡¯t get too cocky.¡± His eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. ¡°I was the one who stopped your rampage in that form. I¡¯ll schedule the fight for eleven.¡± The door clicked shut behind him.


    Jane¡¯s fist shot out, punching my thigh hard enough to make me flinch. ¡°You want to fight again?¡± she exclaimed, her voice rising with exasperation. ¡°You nearly died!¡±


    I unwrapped the bandage from my forearm slowly. I revealed the unmarred skin beneath. ¡°I¡¯m in top condition,¡± I said, flexing my fingers. ¡°I also don¡¯t have to hide Piercing Hand anymore.¡± I met her gaze. ¡°You get what that means, right?¡±


    Jane stared at me for a long moment before sighing in defeat. ¡°Since you¡¯re so adamant... I¡¯ll allow it. This is the last time, okay?¡± A small smile crept onto her face, though it was tinged with worry. ¡°Promise me.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but smile back at her, the tension in my shoulders easing just a fraction.


    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± I said, the corner of my mouth quirking up in a faint grin.


    The next day..


    ¡°We made it!¡± I shouted. The energy in the arena was electric. ¡°The Demon Buddha wanted to recruit them both, but Vellin demanded the show must go on! What a great guy!¡± The spectators erupted in cheers, their enthusiasm feeding off the intensity of the moment. I gestured dramatically toward Vellin, who stood menacingly in the sand, his stance relaxed. ¡°Look at him!¡± I exclaimed, my voice rising in excitement. ¡°When he declared he was going to challenge the Demon Buddha, I thought he was just bluffing! Although now¡ª¡± I paused, ¡°¡ªnow it looks like it could actually happen!¡±


    My voice surged as I pointed to the other side of the arena. ¡°Ryan was severely injured in the last fight! Can he keep up with Vellin, who looks no worse for wear?¡± The crowd murmured in speculation, some betting whispers already turning into shouts. ¡°Ryan has made an interesting request!¡± I continued, raising my hand theatrically to build suspense. ¡°He¡¯s added a new nickname for himself¡ªThe Red Dragon! Sounds pretty cool, doesn¡¯t it?¡± The crowd cheered in approval, the name resonating with the fiery roar Ryan was known for after that last match. ¡°Wait!¡± I shouted, pivoting to him. ¡°Vellin has chosen a nickname too! He will now be known as The Piercing Serpent!¡±


    I paused for dramatic effect, letting the name sink into the crowd. ¡°Pierce, huh? He¡¯s going to show us something new!¡± The buzz intensified as I gestured toward the betting board. ¡°And the stakes are set! Twofold return for Ryan, twofold for Vellin! This is the match of the century! Our top gladiators can''t even compare!¡± I opened my palm, signaling the referee to stay back. ¡°Let¡¯s countdown together for the final match!¡± I bellowed.


    ¡°Three... two... one... begin!¡±

 Transcendence

    I chambered my spear hand near my hip, taut with focus as I sprinted forward. His injury gave him a disadvantage¡­ but Ryan is more of a prodigy than me. The announcer might act as if this fight would be easy, hyping up the crowd with overblown commentary. This will be my hardest fight yet.


    Ryan¡¯s sharp eyes tracked my movements, and in one fluid motion, he spun on his heel, raising his right leg high. His body twisted, delivering a question mark kick aimed squarely at my head. He wasn¡¯t using his dominant leg¡ªlikely saving it for a critical moment or protecting it due to his injury¡ªbut even his weaker strikes carried a lethal edge.


    Our attacks collided with a loud crack, the force of the impact sending a ripple through the air. The wind brushed against my face, stirring loose strands of hair, and I gritted my teeth, pushing against the resistance. Ryan dug his heels into the ground, his stance rooted like an immovable mountain. My spear-hand strike broke through his skin, tearing into the muscle beneath, crimson staining his already battered form. Even with his injury helping me, we were evenly matched in raw power. His sheer will... just what happened to you?


    I adjusted my footing and rotated my wrist, finding an opening in his defenses. I slipped forward and sliced through the air in front of him, the blade of my hand aiming for his neck. It was close¡ªso close I felt the displaced air graze my fingers. He then dropped to the ground that left me wide open.


    Ryan¡¯s leg swept out in a wide arc, striking my ankles and knocking me off balance. The impact sent me crashing onto my back. I barely had time to think before I saw his shadow looming above me. Ryan raised his right foot, and fired an axe kick with all the force of a falling guillotine. My instincts kicked in. I opened my palm and struck the shin of his injured left leg, hitting it with precision and dragging my hand sharply across the bone as I rolled backward. His descending kick missed me by inches, slamming into the ground with a thunderous boom that created a small crater. Dust and debris erupted around us.


    I planted my hand firmly on the ground, using it as leverage to swing my leg through and push myself upright. The sting in my calf flared as I moved, and I glanced down to see a dark bruise already forming where Ryan had swept me off my feet. The pain was sharp, but manageable due to my blessing.


    Ryan pressed the advantage before I could fully stabilize. He closed the distance with calculated speed. Quite aggressive. I snapped my arm out, throwing a quick jab, hoping to disrupt his timing and force him to pause, even for a fraction of a second. He was too fast. Ryan weaved to the side, slipping out of range, and before I could recover, he launched himself into the air.


    His body twisted mid-jump, and his leg extended in a powerful side kick aimed directly at my torso. The impact slammed into my stomach like a battering ram, forcing the air from my lungs in a sharp gasp. I clenched my jaw and endured it, refusing to falter. In an instant, I countered, swiping forward with a sharp strike aimed at his right shoulder. The air hissed as my hand cut through it, but he was already moving, retreating his foot with the same speed he¡¯d used to attack.


    My follow-up came instinctively¡ªa low swipe at his leg¡ªbut once again, he evaded, pulling back just in time to avoid the blow. Something wasn¡¯t adding up. His speed was unlike anything I¡¯d seen from him before. Ryan wasn¡¯t known for this level of agility. I should be outclassing him in raw mobility, yet here he was, dictating the pace of the fight. I narrowed my eyes, studying him as we circled each other. There had to be something I wasn¡¯t seeing, some strategy or trick he was using to mask his usual limitations.


    He blinked, and in that fleeting instant, I was already behind him. His blind spot was mine to exploit. I twisted my forearm in a fluid, swirling motion, experimenting with something new. The motion was unnatural. My hand swept forward, nearly grazing his skull, the force trailing behind it stirring the air like a miniature tornado spiraling from my arm. Ryan reacted with inhuman reflexes firing a reverse heel kick aimed at my torso.


    I ducked low, feeling the rush of his leg slicing through the air above me. My veins pulsed, vibrating intensely. The sensation was almost overwhelming. I channeled it into movement, swinging both of my arms around me like fluid whips slicing through the air. Each strike cut through the space around Ryan, closing in on him from all sides. The sharpness of my attacks forced him to react. His legs snapped out in rapid counter-kicks, deflecting most of my strikes. Yet, my technique was relentless, nicking him with every rotation. Thin, sharp cuts formed along both his legs, crimson streaks marking each successful blow.


    I didn¡¯t stop. I pushed forward, pouring everything into my assault. Imagine your arms as if your bones weren¡¯t there. That is the core of the Mingling Cuts technique. My movements became fluid, unpredictable, like water flowing in violent streams. Ryan¡¯s expression tightened. He clicked his tongue in frustration, then suddenly dropped low, diving through the gap between my legs. My arms froze mid-swing as I processed his maneuver, spinning around just in time to see him inverted, balanced perfectly on his hands.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Ryan exerted explosive force through his arms, launching his legs upward. His foot connected with my chin in a devastating kick that sent shockwaves through my skull. My teeth clattered together painfully, and a metallic taste filled my mouth. He wasn¡¯t finished. Using the momentum from his leap, Ryan spun his body midair, delivering another kick that struck.


    Blood spurted from the cuts on his legs with every movement, painting the ground beneath us, but the sheer ferocity of his attack didn¡¯t waver. I raised my hands, palms shielding my chin, trying to guard against his onslaught. It was barely enough. Each kick came with incredible force, transferring through my arms and into my head.


    Then I need to counterattack!


    Ryan¡¯s barrage of kicks reached its peak. His technique concluded with a powerful upward kick, the final move in his relentless sequence. My arm lashed out in a sharp, perpendicular arc. The edge of my strike tore across his pectoral muscles, leaving a deep, crimson line in its wake. Ryan''s body recoiled.


    I darted forward and grasped his leg, my fingers digging into the flesh just below the cuts I had already inflicted. Blood seeped between my fingers, warm and slick, tightening my grip to exacerbate his wounds. His body tensed. I pivoted, using all my strength to hurl him toward the arena wall.


    The crowd roared as his body careened through the air. I kicked off the sand, the ground giving way beneath my heel as I propelled myself forward like a missile, chasing after him. Ryan twisted mid-air, slamming his foot into the ground to halt his momentum just short of the wall. Dust exploded outward, and he spat a glob of blood onto the ground, the crimson liquid glistening under the arena lights. His gaze met mine, angry at something. A red glimmer burned in his eye, like a spark reigniting in a dying flame. I clenched my fist tightly, channeling everything I had left into my next attack. My hand trembled as I molded it into a spear-hand, the motion so tight and deliberate that my veins bulged against my skin. This would be the finishing blow.


    Just not in my favor.


    Ryan unleashed an onslaught of kicks. It was impossible to counter with his speed. His strikes came from every angle, targeting my entire body with every imaginable technique. Each blow landed with crushing force, overwhelming my tolerance. I could feel my body tearing under the strain, my flesh bruising and splitting with every impact. My arms, once held high in defense, fell slack at my sides.


    The connection between my mind and body had been severed. Ryan¡¯s relentless assault didn¡¯t stop there. Another powerful kick tore through the fabric of my gi, slicing strands of my hair and scattering them like ashes in the wind. My gi fell in tatters, leaving only my gray shirt and pants clinging to my battered frame.


    He stepped back, his breathing controlled all of a sudden. The blood from his wounds, though still present, now only dripped slowly. I stared in disbelief as the gashes I had inflicted moments ago seemed to close before my eyes.


    Ryan tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp, unyielding. ¡°Consider that a warning,¡± he said, his voice calm. ¡°I need to join Sun. Your want does not surpass my need.¡± What... the hell was that? I should¡¯ve won. I had the advantage, didn¡¯t I? I forced my eyes downward, to his legs. The wounds I had inflicted earlier were sealing themselves, the blood coagulating unnaturally fast. You don¡¯t have a blessed body... do you? I lost. Again. This time, it was real.


    I told Jane I¡¯d win. Her face flashed in my mind, her faith in me a crushing weight I could no longer bear. I won¡¯t be able to finish my mission. My arrogance¡ªmy delusion of strength¡ªhad led me here. I wasn¡¯t strong. I wasn¡¯t even close. Zero believed in me, and yet I failed. I thought of Sun. Sun must be reformed... or destroyed. That was the truth, the only truth that kept me moving. It is what¡¯s right. My family. Their faces. Their voices. Their laughter. All gone. They¡¯re gone because of Sun, and I won¡¯t even be able to avenge them. I gritted my teeth, the taste of blood mixing with the bitter sting of failure. No. No. NO! I refuse to transform into that thing again! I steadied myself, if only in my mind. I will rely on my own power. I will...


    My fingers twitched. My mind screamed into the void. I will fight some more!


    <hr>


    Vellin remained standing, but just barely. His battered body twitched involuntarily, muscles spasming from the overwhelming strain of the fight. His defiance was almost admirable¡ªalmost. It was a nice gesture, but the truth was undeniable now: I was the better warrior. Ryuha had told me about this phenomenon, about what he called transcendence. He had said it only occurs in moments of true need, when your back is against the wall and survival depends on it. It¡¯s a phenomenon that boosts your power, speed, knowledge¡ªeverything¡ªbeyond what¡¯s naturally possible.


    Ryuha had seen that potential in me, which was why he trained me in the first place. He was preparing me for this exact moment, and now, standing victorious in the arena, I knew I had proven him right, even though I don''t want to. I raised my hands triumphantly, the joy of victory coursing through my veins. ¡°I won, fair and square!¡± My voice echoed through the arena, a declaration to the crowd, the Demon Buddha, and to myself. I had done it.


    At last, I could leave Ryuha and that suffocating room behind. His abuse, techniques, expectations¡ªall in my past. I pointed to the Demon Buddha, ¡°Come congratulate me!¡±


    The Demon Buddha¡¯s expression shifted subtly, his smile enigmatic. He spoke, ¡°Your opponent can still fight.¡±


    My eyes widened in disbelief, and I spun around to look behind me. Vellin stood there, battered and broken. Something about him has changed. His eyes glimmered with an unyielding resolution, an almost otherworldly green light that hadn¡¯t been there before. Impossible! Many impossible things happen daily in this martial arts world, but this is truly.. impossible!! I extended my foot in a sharp, precise kick aimed directly at his eye. ¡°Just fall down already!¡± The words tore from my lips in frustration. Sheer will won''t win you anything! If it did, Ryuha would be dead!


    <hr>


    My hand shot up instantly to catch his kick, ¡°I was fighting blind my whole life.¡± I said. My grip tightened around his leg, ¡°So this is what it means... to surpass your limits.¡±

 Flame

    Ryan shouted, his voice hoarse and filled with disbelief, "Don''t tell me... you too?!"


    I chuckled, the sound low and steady, "Yeah. It¡¯s on now."


    I drove my shoulder into him.. He skidded back slightly but didn¡¯t stumble like he usually did. Instead, he pivoted gracefully, balancing on the balls of his feet, maintaining an aggressive posture that seemed sharper, more refined. His eyes took on the form of a dragon.


    My fist slammed into his face, the contact sharp and brutal, twisting his head to the side. He absorbed it without faltering, retaliating immediately with a swift side kick to my chest. The impact reverberated through my ribcage like the echo of a drumbeat. I can take it. Ryan spun on his heel, dropping low as he launched a leg sweep, his foot slicing through the air toward my ankles.


    I reacted instinctively, lifting my leg and pushing his attempt away with the sole of my foot, the collision sending a shock through both of us. Ryan twisted his body, impossibly agile, and curled his leg over his shoulder, launching a kick from an angle that defied reason. His back arched like a bowstring, his body bending in a way that made him look like a bridge stretching toward the ground. What flexibility!


    I ducked under the kick and immediately went for a right straight, my fist shooting out like an arrow. Ryan is a true master, now, though. He flipped mid-motion, twisting with an acrobatic grace that would have impressed a dancer, and extended his right arm toward me. His fist was aimed directly at my jaw. I raised my forearm just in time, blocking the strike. I''m a master too. He¡¯s never used his fist before. That¡¯s... interesting.


    <div>


    But not all of them.


    <div>


    I swiped the air with a feint, a quick motion to throw him off. Ryan instinctively shifted, his body reacting to the threat. That was the opening I needed. Lunging forward, I used both hands to grab his ankle, feeling the strength in his leg as it struggled against my grip. With a growl, I twisted, spinning in a wide circle with him in tow. My momentum increased, and soon the air around us whirled into a violent tornado, the sheer force of it pulling the sand into swirling chaos.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I released him at the peak of the spin. Ryan¡¯s body hurtled, skidding across the sand as he crashed to the ground. The gritty grains clung to his reopened wounds, turning dark crimson as blood mixed with dirt. His clothes tore under the strain, shredding further as he slammed into the wall with a bone-rattling impact, arms and legs splayed wide like a broken doll. For a moment, silence hung in the air, the sound of the wind dying down.


    Then, with feral hate, Ryan leapt off the wall. His body twisted, spinning like a human drill. The sheer force behind his spin was ascendant, creating a whirlwind of power that rivaled the strongest fighters in the world. His movements were a blur, each rotation faster, sharper, as if he were the embodiment of a storm. I quickly calculated his trajectory and velocity, tracking the rhythm of his spiraling descent.


    There!


    I leapt into the air, positioning myself just above the spinning drill, my body arching. He left himself wide open. His blind spots were obvious now, exposed in the frenzy of his attack. I tightened my middle finger, pressing it against my thumb. My most lethal technique divinely executed;


    Needle Point.


    I pierced his heart, driving my fingers downward. Ryan¡¯s body convulsed, his legs twisting under him as the force of the blow sent shockwaves through his frame. We crumpled to the ground together, the impact sending dust swirling around us. I knelt over him, watching as blood trickled from the corners of his mouth. Ryan¡¯s eyes locked onto mine, filled with pain and betrayal, as though I had wronged him in the worst way. He coughed, spitting out more blood, and his arm trembled, curling toward his chest.


    His jaw clenched tight, and with a raw, desperate yell, he roared, "Die!!"


    The punch he launched was fierce, mesmerizing in its intensity. It wasn¡¯t just strength¡ªit was his very life force. His fist, fueled by pure will, seemed to carry the weight of everything he had left. I braced myself, guarding instinctively, ready for the impact. Fortunately, his eyes closed mid-swing, and his fist faltered, whiffing through the air. The man known as Ryan collapsed, his fist falling to his side, still balled tightly, even in death.


    For a moment, there was only silence. The announcer didn¡¯t declare the fight¡¯s end, as if the conclusion felt too bitter, too raw. The crowd shifted uncomfortably, their gazes filled with disapproval and confusion. Murmurs rippled through the stands, discontent simmering.


    I stood slowly, chest heaving, and turned to face them, raising my voice. "This is a warrior! A warrior who fought with everything he had!" My voice rang out, hoarse but defiant. "He used techniques that could¡¯ve killed me if they had landed right! This arena is not a place for show¡ªit is a place where death occurs daily!" I clenched my fist in frustration, trembling with emotion. "I will remember this man for the rest of my life. Will you? Look at his fist¡ªit¡¯s still balled! Do not disrespect his memory by desecrating the very thing he died for!"


    My voice heaved as I shouted the final words, "Martial arts!"


    A hush fell over the crowd until an old man¡¯s voice, clear and steady, broke the silence. "Well said, son!"


    Heads turned as a short, bald man with a white beard leapt gracefully from the viewing stands, landing in the sand with an aura so powerful it seemed to weigh down the air around him. His presence was overwhelming, radiating authority and speed. He approached with measured steps, cradling Ryan¡¯s lifeless body in his arms as though holding something precious.


    His voice was calm, yet commanding. "I am his master, Ryuha. I do not blame Vellin for giving him a warrior¡¯s death." He lifted Ryan effortlessly, holding him as one would a fallen hero. As he turned to leave, he glanced back at me, his expression unreadable but respectful. "Thank you, Vellin, for giving me the battle data I needed." I watched him walk away, my muscles still tense, eyes wary.


    I turned my gaze to Caleb, ready to challenge him. He reached for something from his special seating section. My eyes followed his movements, and my instincts were already primed for action. With a powerful grip, Caleb lifted a massive mallet, made of darksteel. He swung it effortlessly in a wide arc, the sound of the impact vibrating through walls as he struck a colossal gong adorned with a yellow sun symbol. The deep, resonant tone of the gong gave many hearing damage.


    Caleb¡¯s roar followed, raw. "I¡¯ve seen enough! I¡¯m making an exception!" His voice carried over the stands, forcing the crowd to quiet.


    He turned to me with a sly grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Vellin has won the Burnout Tournament, and is now the Fifth Flame¡ªtitle: the Piercing Serpent!"

 Burnout

    Hal (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Aiden (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Lucas (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Mason (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Noah (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    <hr>


    Ryan (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    The Demon Buddha (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Vellin (Unconscious God) (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Oliver (Artist: ctmlkusa)


    <hr>


    Ryan (Transcendence) (Artist: Ucchan)


    <hr>


    Vellin (Transcendence) (Artist: SailenDraws)


    <hr>


    Vellin vs Ryan (Artist: ctmlkusa)

 Deal

    The crowd erupted into applause, their clapping like a rolling wave across the stadium, a tribute to what they had just witnessed. Conversations buzzed among the spectators. Phrases like ¡°the birth of a legend¡± and ¡°Sun¡¯s comeback¡± reached my ears, affirming that my plan was progressing as intended.


    Beneath their enthusiasm, I reflected on the truth of my strategy: the best way to destroy Sun is to change it from within. For too long, I had painted all of Sun with the same brush, assuming its members were irredeemably corrupt. My time here had taught me otherwise. Not everyone in Sun is evil¡ªI had been a fool to believe so. Emma isn¡¯t so bad, and Caleb has proven himself more complex than I¡¯d given him credit for. A few dozen individuals stationed in Sun can¡¯t represent the entire clan. Even amidst the shadows, there is light.


    I clenched my fists, hope hardening within me. To exploit that light, I need to fully leverage my new position as a Flame. Fame, wealth, allies, loyalty¡ªI¡¯ll gather them all. Then, when the time is right, I¡¯ll declare war. Even if my efforts end in failure and Sun is weakened instead of reformed, I will have accomplished my ultimate goal.


    Caleb¡¯s voice boomed across the field, snapping me out of my thoughts. ¡°This marks the end of the Burnout Tournament! Thanks for attending! Be on the lookout for news about the new Flame, Vellin!¡± The crowd erupted into cheers again.


    Before I could move, a Sun member jogged onto the field. ¡°The Demon Buddha wishes for us to escort you to the beach, sir. There, you will discuss many things. Your girlfriend is with him as we speak and will meet you there.¡±


    Adjusting my posture, I replied, ¡°Show me the way.¡±


    Twenty minutes later..


    The walk to the beach was uneventful, the tranquil streets giving me a brief moment to collect my thoughts. Word of my new position hadn¡¯t spread yet¡ªa blessing. The scenery shifted near the shoreline. The beach stretched out before us, bathed in golden sunlight with the high noon sun blazing in a cloudless sky. The sand was pristine, carefully maintained to a level of perfection that reflected Sun''s obsessive control.


    A cool breeze carried the salty scent of the sea, contrasting with the warmth radiating from the ground beneath my feet.


    Ahead, Caleb lounged on a sleek metal lawn chair, an oversized umbrella providing him with ample shade. His demeanor screamed authority, but there was a casual air to the way he rested, almost as if he were a king surveying his domain. Beside him, Jane sat on the far left in a stunning blue bikini. Both wore shades, their expressions obscured, making it hard to gauge their moods. Emma, someone I recognized instantly, stood near Caleb, dutifully fanning him with a large woven fan. The scene was surreal¡ªa bizarre mix of leisure and tension. Three seats were arranged under foldable umbrellas, each painted a different color. The one meant for me was green, its fabric vibrant against the sand.


    The Sun member leading me stopped, gesturing toward the setup. ¡°Here it is, sir.¡± he said, formal. I couldn¡¯t ignore the beads of sweat forming on my brow, the heat getting to me.


    Caleb removed his shades, his gaze locking onto me. ¡°Emma, show him the showers and the clothing I have for him.¡± he commanded, his voice carrying the same authority as when he addressed a crowd. ¡°He¡¯s burning and bleeding out here.¡±


    Emma nodded and stepped toward me, dropping the fan. I caught a second glance at Jane. She had remained silent throughout the exchange, her focus seemingly elsewhere.


    My lips curved into a small smile as I blurted, ¡°You look sexy, Jane.¡±


    She glanced at me, her shades lowering slightly to reveal a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. A light chuckle escaped her lips. ¡°Zero didn¡¯t teach you how to flirt.¡± she replied, her tone teasing but devoid of malice. The comment hit harder than I expected, not because it stung, but because it was true. Socializing was a skill I still needed to master.


    Ten minutes later..


    I walked across the sand, hands shoved into my pockets as I tried to steady myself. My cheeks burned with a faint blush, the shyness clawing at me. Every step felt heavy from the lingering embarrassment of Jane¡¯s teasing.


    Caleb¡¯s sharp eyes followed me, his gaze intense. ¡°Very good, Vellin,¡± he said, his tone flat but carrying an undercurrent of approval. ¡°Zero¡¯s training in flirtation was awful, but his body training wasn¡¯t.¡±


    I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, unsure whether to take the remark as a compliment. Jane¡¯s gaze followed soon after, but the way her eyes lingered felt entirely different.


    She leaned back, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, and let out a loud wolf whistle. ¡°You look sexy as well.¡± she quipped, the teasing edge in her voice impossible to miss.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    I rubbed the back of my head, trying to shake off the sudden attention. ¡°Ryan cut my hair pretty good.¡± I murmured. The memory of him sent a pang of regret through me. ¡°I just wish he didn¡¯t die. I couldn¡¯t have knocked him out, right?¡±


    Caleb waved his hand dismissively, brushing off my guilt with practiced ease. ¡°Forget that. You¡¯ve already made your case to the crowd; you don¡¯t need to make it again. Let¡¯s focus on the matter at hand.¡±


    Straightening in his chair, Caleb began to speak with a measured tone, drawing my full attention. ¡°Technically, you still need to go through a rite of passage in Grand Sasebella, our main base of operations, to be officially recognized as a Flame. Right now, you have the respect and glory of one, but only after completing the rite will you receive your full privileges¡ªa small army under your command and formal missions to carry out.¡± He leaned forward slightly, folding his hands as he continued. ¡°I got lucky. My mission was hosting the Burnout Tournament, which is more fun than most Flames get for their assignments. In a week, we¡¯ll head to Grand Sasebella. Until then, I need to finalize our profit model here. You following me so far?¡±


    My focus stayed unbroken. ¡°Yes. What¡¯s this about profit models?¡±


    Caleb stretched and yawned. ¡°Our duties are plentiful,¡± he explained. ¡°as Flames, we have five key responsibilities. First, protecting Sun members¡ªour people come first. Second, establishing profit models to ensure the clan has a steady flow of funds. Third, carrying out missions assigned directly by Leo. Fourth, overseeing our subordinates and ensuring they handle contracts, whether for assassinations, protection, or other services. And finally, the most important: destroying anyone who steps out of line.¡±


    Jane tilted her head slightly, her voice curious yet firm. ¡°Where do I fit in this?¡±


    Caleb took a moment to consider before replying. ¡°You¡¯re a member too.¡± he began. ¡°In terms of protection, a minimum of four Officers selected by Vellin will guard you. If you¡¯re killed¡ªwhich, let¡¯s be clear, is unlikely¡ªSun will avenge you with absolute force. I¡¯ve been a real member of Sun for ten years, and I married my beautiful wife five years ago. She¡¯s never been harmed, so what I¡¯m telling you is more of a formality than anything else. When you marry Vellin, you¡¯ll receive ten percent of his annual pay. If he wants to give you more, that¡¯s his responsibility.¡±


    Jane crossed her arms as Caleb continued. ¡°For now, until Vellin is officially recognized, my Officers will handle your protection. That¡¯s just the basics, though. When we return to base, you and Vellin will be required to study Sun¡¯s laws and rules until you can recite them all. It¡¯s mandatory, and trust me, it¡¯s no small task.¡± He smirked, his tone lightening. ¡°Have fun with that.¡±


    I clicked my tongue in mild irritation. ¡°Damn it.¡± I muttered under my breath, though I quickly relaxed, forcing a shrug. ¡°A break seems to be in order after all this chaos, don¡¯t you think? Studying isn¡¯t that bad.¡± I cracked my knuckles, letting my gaze rest on Caleb. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you let me fight you during the tournament?¡± I asked, the question tinged with genuine curiosity.


    Caleb¡¯s expression shifted. ¡°If we fought, it¡¯d end like you and Ryan.¡± he admitted. ¡°I wouldn''t be able beat you without going all out, and that would likely kill you. Not to insult your skills. Sure, I¡¯d sustain some injuries, but ultimately, I¡¯d win. And I¡¯d rather not leave you broken .¡±


    Jane stepped closer, her hand brushing against my abs. Her fingers traced lightly over the ridges, her touch soft and almost reverent. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ solid.¡± she commented.


    Caleb burst into laughter, shaking his head. ¡°Your girlfriend is so into you, man.¡± I flushed, though I tried to hide it, shifting awkwardly on my feet. Shyness was the least of my worries now.


    Meanwhile..


    "Shut the hell up, Jura." I snapped, my body tensing up. My fists curled at my sides, every muscle coiled with restrained anger. "I''d kill you if she wasn''t here."


    Jura¡¯s grin widened into a devilish smirk, his confidence oozing from every pore. "She wouldn¡¯t let that happen. I wouldn''t let that happen." he countered smoothly. "She loves me more than you." His words dripped with smugness as he stepped closer, shoulder-checking me.


    I stood firm, refusing to flinch. Ben wedged himself between us, his arms stretched out to keep us apart. "Stop it, you two." he said, pleading. "We can all share her love."


    Lilith, seated regally as always, reached back to pet Ben¡¯s head with a languid grace. "You¡¯re right, darling." she purred, laced with affection. Ben practically melted under her touch, squirming with barely contained delight.


    Jura, however, wasn¡¯t satisfied. "Really, madam?" he protested, throwing his hands up in exaggerated exasperation. "You need to show me love like that more often!" The sound of the door creaking open drew all our attention. A man in glasses strode into the room, his every movement deliberate and composed. He exuded a quiet authority. My instincts flared, and I began to move toward him, my hands itching to strike.


    But then, Lilith snapped her fingers.


    The sound was crisp. It was her signal¡ªabsolute. No matter what, stop in your tracks. My eyes remained locked on the stranger. The man sat down on the couch, placing a leather briefcase on the table.


    He opened it, revealing rows of neatly stacked gold coins, "We¡¯ve discussed this already." he began, his voice calm and businesslike. "The coins are prepared. Here¡¯s two thousand gold now. You¡¯ll receive an additional three thousand once the job is done." He adjusted his glasses with a finger, his gaze steady. "To remind you, kill the Demon Buddha and the Piercing Serpent. Price has raised accordingly with him being added. I don¡¯t care what happens to their dozen or so lackeys¡ªdo with them as you please." He rose, snapping the briefcase shut and leaving it on the table.


    Pausing in the doorway, he glanced back over his shoulder, his expression hardening. "Do not screw this up."


    Lilith¡¯s smile returned, a sight so radiant it could have melted ice. "You won¡¯t screw it up, right, boys?" she said sweetly. Failure wasn¡¯t an option.


    Jura immediately bowed, his tone reverent. "No, madam."


    Lilith¡¯s smile deepened, and her next words turned the air electric. "Whoever lands the finishing blow," she said, her voice honeyed, "will get a kiss." The room erupted with energy. The prospect of such a reward.. her first kiss!


    I couldn¡¯t hold back my lust. "I¡¯ll kill him! I¡¯ll make you proud, Lilith!"

 Mistake

    "This is our living quarters, Vellin." I said, ducking under the doorway to enter the building. The door frame creaked slightly as my shoulders brushed against it.


    Vellin followed behind, glancing at me questioning demeanor. "How tall are you, exactly?" he asked His eyes briefly scanned my frame.


    I straightened up as much as the cramped ceiling would allow and replied, "I''m seven foot two. Most doors are too small, as you can see." I gestured toward the slightly scuffed frame, evidence of countless close encounters. The room itself was modest but functional. While Emma often voiced her frustrations about our accommodations, I didn''t mind it too much. The walls were freshly plastered, and the air carried a faint scent of wood polish from the recent repairs.


    We were still rebuilding; such conditions were to be expected. Even so, with Vellin reunited with us and new allies joining every week, I could feel the tides turning. The golden days of Sun weren''t just a dream¡ªthey were within reach.


    Gabriel sprawled lazily on the old but sturdy couch, popping grapes into his mouth one by one. His boots were propped up on the edge of the coffee table, a sign of his usual carefree attitude. "Attention!"


    I barked. Gabriel jerked upright, nearly spilling the bowl of grapes in his lap. He hastily set it down on the now-repaired table, the wood glinting faintly under the overhead light, and stood at attention, his hands clasped behind his back.


    I pointed toward the door. "Go find the rest of our team and bring them down here. We need to talk."


    Gabriel snapped a salute and shouted, "Yes, sir!" before bolting out.


    Gabriel moved with urgency, rounding up the four officers who weren¡¯t preoccupied with other assignments. They filed into the room quickly, their sharp movements a testament to their discipline.


    As they stood before us, their postures straight and alert, I gestured toward Vellin. "This is Vellin." I began, my tone firm and commanding. "You already know who he is, but now you will show him the same respect you give me. He is a Flame and will be ordained shortly."


    Vellin took a step forward, his expression calm but his voice slightly hesitant. "Nice to meet you." he said simply, giving a polite nod.


    In perfect synchrony, all four officers bowed deeply. "We are pleased to meet you as well, sir!" they chorused, their voices ringing with sincerity. Vellin blinked, momentarily taken aback by the formality. His shoulders tensed slightly, unused to the weight of such respect and admiration.


    I stepped forward, clapping him on the back with a firm hand. "Feels nice, huh?" I said with a small smile. "We are looked to for guidance. It comes with the territory." Rolling my shoulders to ease the tension, I turned back to the officers. "For now," I continued, "find a suitable room for Vellin and his girlfriend Jane to stay in. If there are no rooms left, the junior soldiers will need to bunk up. Make it happen."


    The officers snapped to attention, their voices unified in a resounding, "Yes, sir!" They wasted no time, turning on their heels and rushing up the stairs. The scraping of furniture being shifted around above us was quite loud.


    I turned to Vellin with a casual nod. "While they¡¯re handling that, let me give you a quick tour of the first floor."


    Vellin sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry, Caleb. I¡¯m pretty beat. I¡¯d rather just head to bed early. Still wearing this bloody gray t-shirt, after all." he said, pulling at the fabric to emphasize the dried blood staining it.


    I glanced toward the staircase, raising my voice. "Double time! Vellin needs to rest!"


    Emma, who had been standing nearby, adjusted her glasses and interjected, "We already picked up your things from the hotel. The clothes are being cleaned as we speak."


    "Ah, nearly forgot about that." I said with a nod of approval, but my attention was soon stolen by the loud growl of my stomach. "Emma, go get us some steak and water." I ordered.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "Right away, sir." she replied, quickly spinning on her heel. She dashed into the kitchen.


    I gestured toward the hallway for Vellin. "She just went into the kitchen, and there¡¯s a bathroom at the end of the hall as well. That¡¯s all you really need to know for now."


    Gabriel appeared, gripping the handrails of the staircase with both hands. "We¡¯re finished!" he called out enthusiastically. "We¡¯ve got a whole room prepared and cleaned for them."


    I smiled at his efficiency. "Good work! Vellin, settle in. Someone will bring your food and things shortly."


    Vellin, with Jane following close behind, was already halfway up the stairs. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks." he said with a dismissive wave, though his voice carried a hint of weariness. He had masked his fatigue well earlier¡ªback at the beach, he¡¯d seemed unshaken. Why? I yawned, stretching out my arms to work out the stiffness creeping into my muscles.


    "Not like I care!" If he wanted to act cool, it''s his right as a Flame. There was still plenty of work to do, and sleep would have to wait.


    Ten minutes later..


    "God forbid I get ten minutes of sleep!" I groaned, throwing myself onto the bed with an exaggerated flop. The mattress, fitted with some kind of high-end foam, molded perfectly to my form, but I barely noticed. The lavish decor around the room¡ªornate curtains, a chandelier, polished wood furniture¡ªwas all lost on me. I was too tired to care.


    Jane, standing by the dresser, was changing into her light blue pajamas. She pouted as she slipped on the top. "I saw you staring at Emma." she said, her tone accusatory. What? I blinked, baffled. I had stared, sure, but not for the reason she thought.


    Sitting up slightly, I explained, "I fought her to enter the tournament. I stared at her a bit because she reminds me of you¡ªwhat you can become, or even surpass." Lying back down, I started shadowboxing lazily at the ceiling. "She''s in her thirties, and you''re in your early twenties. She¡¯s stronger than you now, but she¡¯s hit her potential. I was imagining a future version of you¡ªstronger, faster."


    Jane paused, her fingers tugging at the waistband of her pajama bottoms as she processed my words. Finally, she said, "That''s... acceptable. Ninety points."


    I frowned, lowering my hands. "Out of?"


    She smirked, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "You don¡¯t need to know.¡± she replied cryptically before sliding into bed beside me. She wrapped a leg over mine, her warmth immediately noticeable.


    I stiffened, pulling back slightly. "Wait, wait. There are two beds. What are you doing?"


    Jane¡¯s voice was confused as she tilted her head at me. "There¡¯s one bed."


    I froze, realization dawning on me. My eye twitched as I processed it. Those cheeky¡ª!


    Three hours later..


    "So we have the protection job for Mr. Holloway scheduled later this week. Send him four soldiers and offer a discount since we¡¯re unable to provide an officer." I said, leaning against the wall and rubbing the back of my neck.


    Emma nodded efficiently, jotting it down on her clipboard. "I''ll make that happen." she replied without missing a beat.


    Before I could say more, a deafening explosion rocked the entire building. Multiple walls burst apart simultaneously, leaving gaping holes large enough for people to enter through. Even the second floor wasn¡¯t spared, debris raining down as the structure groaned under the assault. Dust filled the air, choking the room with a haze.


    "We¡¯re being attacked!" I roared, the shockwave momentarily staggering me. My ears rang from the noise as my vision adjusted to the dimly lit chaos. Out of the corner of my eye, a glint caught my attention¡ªa knife, its blade tipped with a strange purple liquid, was flying through one of the holes, hurtling straight toward Emma. The speed was incredible, too fast for her to react.


    Without thinking, I thrust my palm out, reinforcing it just in time to intercept the blade. It clattered to the ground, the blade¡¯s acid-like substance hissing as it ate through the wooden floor.


    Emma recovered quickly, gripping her clipboard tightly. With a sharp motion, she hurled it toward the darkness beyond the hole. It collided with something solid, hidden in the shadows.


    "Come inside, coward!" I bellowed, the challenge echoing through the destroyed room. A figure stepped forward, emerging from the night with an air of cold confidence. She wore a dark hood emblazoned with the mark of her new clan. My chest tightened as I recognized her. Lilith. Once a Flame like us, now the leader of the Fist of God.


    Emma¡¯s eyes burned with fury as she yelled, "You dare do this?! We¡¯re allies! Sun will wipe you out for this betrayal!"


    Lilith smirked, her expression dripping with disdain as five men emerged behind her, fanning out protectively like a pack of loyal hounds. Her Fingers.


    "How cute, boys," she said with a mocking chuckle. "she thinks I didn¡¯t account for that."


    One of her Fingers, a brute of a man nearly as tall as me, grabbed a heavy cupboard from the wreckage and hurled it toward us.


    It sailed past Emma, narrowly missing her. "Don¡¯t threaten her." the man growled, his voice low and menacing. From above, I could hear the unmistakable sounds of a fight breaking out¡ªa scuffle on the second floor. The tension in the air grew thicker, and I narrowed my eyes at Lilith.


    Shrugging off my jacket, I warned her, "Controlling these men doesn¡¯t make you strong, Lilith!"


    She scoffed, folding her arms as her hooded figure loomed ominously. "On the contrary," she said coolly. "It¡¯s exactly what I did to Zero."


    I tossed my jacket to the floor. "You¡¯re making a mistake!" I growled, my body preparing for combat.


    Lilith mockingly gasped as she pointed toward the knife still sizzling on the floor. "You¡¯re the one making a mistake." she said, her tone venomous. "You¡¯ve already been poisoned."

 Split

    "Let us move in, madam. He''s still dangerous." Jura said. He stood at attention, his hand twitching near his hip.


    Lilith glanced at him. She crossed her arms over her chest. "No need. They''re cleaning up. Stand still for now." Her tone was sharp with a tint of insanity, just like it was ten years ago.


    Shattered glass littered the ground. Upstairs, muffled cries and the occasional clash of steel hinted at the skirmish still raging beyond the walls.


    I stomped the ground, the impact demanding their attention. "You think I''ll just do nothing?" I threatened.


    Lilith turned her head. She raised her chin defiantly, her cold eyes glinting with malicious glee. "You will, unless you want your precious officers dead. Right now, we''re just crippling them. It''s you and the Piercing Serpent that need to die."


    From the corner of my eye, I caught a frantic motion. Gabriel burst through his door, his face pale and drenched in sweat. He bolted for the stairs, his movements clumsy and desperate as panic overtook him. Before he could reach the first step down, a towering man with an array of intricate tattoos emerged from the shadows. He stomped Gabriel''s knee. Gabriel collapsed, clutching his leg and groaning in agony.


    "Stupid!" the tattooed man yelled, his voice brim with contempt as he loomed over Gabriel''s crumpled form. "You actually fought back!" He leaned down, gripping Gabriel''s collar, and yanked him forward before delivering a savage kick to his chin. Gabriel''s head snapped back, and he went limp.


    The man straightened, breathing heavily, as he turned to Lilith. "We couldn''t find the Piercing Serpent, ma''am." he reported, frustrated. "All of the officers and soldiers are unable to fight back. We lost Hutch because of this bastard." His gaze flickered to Gabriel.


    Lilith''s smirk widened, her smile devoid of any warmth. "A good death." she remarked, her tone disturbingly casual. Her eyes gleamed as she gestured towards me. "Come down here and attack Caleb." She paused, catching herself with an exaggerated chuckle. "Oh, sorry¡ªthe Demon Buddha. Such a stupid nickname."


    I leaned close to Emma, "When I kill him, run and hide. They''re above your level."


    My gaze never left the danger in front of us, the weight of what I was about to do sinking into my core. Suddenly, the man with tattoos¡ªGabriel''s tormentor¡ªlunged from behind. His movement was swift. He got lucky with Gabriel. My hand shot up, fingers tangling in his hair. The strands strained under the force as I yanked him forward, spinning him with all the force I could muster.


    His neck twisted unnaturally, the tension threatening to snap what little kept his head upright. I used the momentum, twisting my body in one fluid motion for a devastating throw. He hurtled, a broken blur of flailing tattoos. Emma bolted for the exit, her footsteps light and quick as she slipped away amidst the chaos. I hoped she¡¯d make it out.


    The man¡¯s body slammed toward Lilith. Jura moved in an instant, positioning himself between her and the incoming missile. The impact was grotesque. The man¡¯s body detonated on Jura¡¯s defense, a sickening explosion of flesh and bone. Blood sprayed across the room, painting the walls and floor in a macabre display. Bits of brain matter clung to Jura''s shoulders as he stood firm, unshaken by the carnage. Lilith wiped a fleck of blood from her cheek with a slow, deliberate motion.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Her previously composed demeanor shifted as she uncrossed her arms, tapping each of her Fingers methodically against the back of her opposite hand. Her tone was dripping with venom. "Forget this! He studies Judo and Reinforced Fist. Kill him!!" The Fingers moved as one, their formation seamless and practiced. The four of them surrounded me in an instant.


    It was a trap.


    From my blind spot, three more soldiers emerged. Blades flashed. They thrust their weapons into my back. It couldn''t even break my skin. I spun wildly, my arm sweeping like a guillotine. My backhand connected with their necks, and their heads flew in arcs, spraying crimson across the walls.


    One of the Fingers¡ªa shorter man with hands cloaked in steam¡ªstepped forward. His steaming palms grasped my incoming force, redirecting it into the ground with a resounding thud that shook the floor beneath us. He absorbed my momentum seamlessly, his palm striking my liver. The blow shouldn''t have hurt me. He used my own power against me. I staggered back, my voice erupting in a guttural yell. "You rats!"


    "Good job, Ben!" a voice called out from above, sharp and taunting.


    A black blade descended from my right flank. The sword slashed diagonally across my chest, carving through muscle and flesh like butter. Blood oozed from the wound, hot and thick. My mind reeled as recognition struck: Darksteel!


    The blade¡¯s color, density, and lethality were unmistakable. Ignoring the pain, I roared and threw a devastating punch toward the swordsman, a blow able to crush him entirely. But Ben moved with great speed. His hands blurred as he intercepted my fist, redirecting its trajectory away from its target. Ben¡¯s foot lashed out, striking my ankle. My balance wavered¡ªa momentary stagger. I don''t... stagger that easily. They really did poison me.


    A crushing force came from behind, slamming into the back of my head like a meteor. My vision blurred as I bent over, spitting blood onto the floor. My breaths were labored, heavy. Slowly, I turned. Jura.


    He stood there with his fist raised. "The great Demon Buddha is in such a state." Jura sneered, rubbing his knuckles. His tone dripped with mockery as he turned to someone unseen. "Kai?"


    Kai? The swordsman appeared from my right, his movements so fluid it was unnatural. His blade whirled, carving a star-shaped formation of slices that tore flesh asunder. My blood splattered across the floor, my arm barely hanging on yet still functional. I stomped the ground with all my might, the force splitting the floorboards beneath my feet.


    I stood slowly, heavy with pain, powered by my sheer will. Blood trickled from my wounds, staining my tattered clothes. I pressed a hand to my chest, briefly comforting my battered body. Another crouched near Lilith, one I hadn¡¯t seen attack yet. His demeanor was calm, almost casual, as if watching a spectacle unfold.


    He chuckled, amused. "He really does have insane endurance. Kai can rend anyone in one swing, but he''s still standing."


    Ben, ever the dirty fighter, lunged and seized my arm, locking it in place with an iron grip. He smirked, glancing toward Jura. "Jura, he''s all yours."


    Jura didn¡¯t hesitate. He stepped forward, delivering a bone-crunching punch directly to my face. I felt the ground shift beneath me.


    Ben sneered, his tone filled with condescension. "Us four, we all fight as a unit, as one."


    Jura came at me again, his punches a relentless flurry. Each strike carried the full weight of his body, twisting and turning to maximize damage. My vision blurred under the assault. I shifted my focus to Ben, his grip still tight on my arm. Twisting my wrist with a sharp rotation, I broke free and grasped his neck. My fingers closed as I reinforced the grip, adrenaline flooding my veins. Kai reacted instantly, aiming for my wrist. The edge connected. The cut was shallow, barely grazing the skin.


    I tightened my hold on Ben, lifting him high into the air with raw, unrestrained power. Jura moved to intervene, his hand reaching for Ben. I lunged forward, smashing my forehead into Jura''s face with a devastating headbutt. The impact sent him flying backward. Holding Ben aloft, I felt the surge of adrenaline reach its peak. My hands shifted, one gripping his neck and the other his leg. My voice roared through the chaos as I spread my arms wide, stretching Ben''s body to its breaking point. "You fight as one?!"


    I tore him apart like an animal, as he deserved. I held the remains aloft for all to see. "Now you''re two!"

 Anger

    "Ben! I didn''t want him to die like that..." Jura rasped, his voice thick with anguish as blood streamed down from the gash on his forehead, trickling past his nose. He staggered briefly but steadied himself, his breathing uneven. He tightened his grip on his elbow, priming his arm for another strike.


    Kai shifted his weight, lowering his stance. His arms moved fluidly, a striking contrast to the tight grip he maintained on his katana hilt. Sweat gleamed on his brow, sliding down his face, betraying the strain he refused to acknowledge. Jura''s fist shot forward, his left leg snapping upward in a simultaneous kick. I barely intercepted the attack, my feet skidding across the ground. Kai unsheathed his sword. He lunged forward, swinging his blade, each slash aimed to overwhelm. I leaned back, dodging the blinding flurry of strikes, the wind of his blade slicing dangerously close. He stirred his fingers mid-swing.


    Then, his blade came down at an awkward angle. I braced myself, my arm tensing. I caught the blade. The katana''s edge embedded itself between the fibers of my reinforced muscle. A fleeting grin crossed Kai''s face before I shifted my weight, swiping for his waist in a throw attempt. He twisted away, narrowly avoiding the counter. Still within range, I capitalized on the opening and drove a quick jab toward his face.


    He raised his arms in defense, his voice dripping with disdain. "A measly jab!?" My fist powered through his guard.


    The force sent Kai flying, his body crashing into the wooden boards. Splinters flew in all directions as he crumpled momentarily before struggling to rise. Pain radiated through my right arm, the flesh threatening to tear away from its seams. Poison coursed through my veins, each heartbeat spreading it further, sapping my strength. The accumulated damage would kill anyone but me. I can¡¯t keep this up. I¡¯m running out of time. If I don¡¯t finish this soon, it¡¯s over.


    Jura lunged back into the fray, his fist arcing upward in a fierce uppercut. I intercepted the strike with my palm. He followed immediately with a sharp left straight, but I caught it mid-flight, my fingers tightening. The fire in his eyes didn¡¯t waver; if anything, it burned hotter. With a growl, Jura leaned into me, pushing forward with all his weight. Our muscles strained against each other in a raw contest of strength, veins bulging and teeth clenched. I gradually overpowered him, his form beginning to collapse.


    I heaved him forward, bending his spine at an unnatural angle. A sickening pop echoed between us. Jura groaned, his face contorted. He fought to push back, his heels digging furrows into the ground, but his strength faltered. My grip held firm, and he seemed moments away from folding in half when a sharp, searing pain erupted in my side. I glanced down. Kai¡¯s fingers were pressed into my liver, his nails digging through the fabric of my shirt. My eyes narrowed. He... really tried that?


    Kai let out a howl of pain as the strain of the strike rebounded on his hand. His desperate move gave Jura the momentum he needed. He found a wellspring of strength and began to rise, his body straightening from the hunch. I released him with a forceful shove to the side. Jura tumbled, his body rolling over, landing hard and motionless for a moment.


    Kai scrambled backward, clutching his throbbing hand. I was already closing the distance. My shadow loomed over him as I raised my fist, the blade of his katana still lodged in my muscle. "You''re a gimmick." I snarled. My fist hammered into his neck with my full power. The impact sent his body flipping wildly.


    Now onto...


    I grabbed the katana lodged in my arm, its blade slick with blood, and adjusted my grip. Holding it like a spear, I leaned back. With a sharp exhale, I hurled it through one of the jagged holes they had created in the structure. The weapon disappeared into the void, clattering somewhere out of sight. My chest heaved as I huffed, momentarily free of the cumbersome blade. The reprieve was fleeting. I whirled around, my eyes locking on Lilith. I dashed toward her, my fist cocked low at my hip, coiling with murderous intent.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    If I can kill her... this will all be worth it!


    Blinded by resolve, I didn¡¯t notice the man who had been standing guard vanish from his position. Before I could reach her, thick, iron-like arms coiled around my neck, cutting off my airflow. The sudden pressure shot panic through me as my vision began to blur.


    The voice of my unseen assailant rasped close to my ear. "Rear naked choke, asshole. You have eight seconds."


    I gritted my teeth, clasping his hand with both of mine. The tendons in my arms bulged as I twisted his fingers. A sickening crack echoed in the air. "I''m still stronger, asshole." I said, my voice hoarse. He released the hold immediately, staggering back, cradling his shattered hand. Jura came charging in like a freight train, positioning himself as a shield for his comrade. His fist slammed into my stomach with enough force to shatter my bone. Pain exploded through my core, a white-hot agony that stole the last of my strength.


    My legs buckled as I gasped for air. It felt like trying to breathe through a straw. Adrenaline surged one final time, pushing me forward, but it wasn¡¯t enough. The ground rushed up to meet me as I started to fall.


    That end wouldn''t fit me!


    I twisted violently, my body whipping as I shook Jura and the other man off me. Jura flipped backward, and landed on his feet with cat-like agility. He didn''t think for a moment. He broke into a sprint. I didn¡¯t hesitate either. My body surged forward. Every ounce of my remaining strength funneled into one final attack. I bent my elbow, reinforcing my arm with every shred of power. The strain in my muscles felt like they would tear. Jura mirrored my intent, charging headlong toward me with his own attack primed. We collided in a thunderous impact. The sound of bone snapping was a given. My reinforced strike shattered his arm. His limb bent unnaturally. The force of the clash sent a shockwave through my body, my vision flickering. My eyes rolled back involuntarily.


    That''s... all I''ve got.


    The Demon Buddha crumpled to the floor, his immense presence now reduced to a faint shadow of what it once was. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, the fight within him dimming to darkness. I clutched my broken arm. This wasn''t worth it.. "Lilith..." I rasped, my voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Does that mean I got the last hit?¡±


    Lilith¡¯s lips curled into a mocking pout as she tilted her head. "No." she said. ¡°he¡¯s still alive, my dear. End him.¡± Her words carried a sharp edge, but it was the end him¡ªdelivered with icy finality¡ªthat sent a chill into us.


    Thane leaned against the wall, nursing his injuries. ¡°I have to respect him, somewhat.¡± he admitted, even. ¡°Outnumbered five to one, he still fought like hell. He killed Kai and Ben while poisoned. That poison¡¯s no joke¡ªit¡¯s top-notch. Yet somehow, he didn¡¯t seem like he was fighting at half his strength.¡±


    I stood over the Demon Buddha¡¯s prone body, my face a mask. My boot stomped hard against the Demon Buddha¡¯s chest. ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck!¡± I snarled. ¡°He lost. That¡¯s all anyone will remember him by.¡±


    From above, a rope descended with a faint creak. Tarek, the one who came up with the poison idea, slid down, his movements eerily quiet. His boots met the ground, stepping with the grace of a hawk. ¡°People will remember me by my knife.¡± Tarek said, his voice calm but chilling. He knelt beside the weapon, the steel glinting under the dim light. ¡°My family¡¯s special recipe...¡± he murmured, sliding the blade back into its sheath.


    Lilith chuckled darkly. ¡°Get it done with already.¡± she said.


    I sneered. I raised my boot high, the sole poised for execution. ¡°Goodbye, Demon Buddha.¡±


    <hr>


    I drove my foot into the man pinning Caleb, the impact sending him hurtling out of the building. His body crashed through the weakened frame, splinters and dust erupting as he disappeared into the darkness outside. My feet hit the ground with a thud, and without missing a beat, I swung my arm in a wide arc. The force of my motion unleashed a gust of wind, powerful and sharp, that knocked the other two men off their feet. They tumbled backward, their stances broken, coughing as the air was forced from their lungs.


    The men scrambled to recover their eyes wide with fear and recognition. One of them managed to rasp out, "Lilith... is that him?!" Lilith stood still, refusing to answer. She didn¡¯t need to. The look in her eyes confirmed everything they feared. The silence between us stretched thin, heavy with an unspoken promise of... violence. I let my killing intent seep. Their movements grew hesitant, their confidence replaced by primal fear.


    Slowly, deliberately, I curled my fingers into a spear hand. My voice came out seething with fury. "What have you done?!"

 12/07/24

    Comic


    History is about to be made in my writing journey. Sunset Rebellion is finally making its debut in an exhilarating webtoon/manhwa format, bringing the story to life in a way I hope you are ecstatic for. With breathtaking visuals and an artist who understands the story, this adaptation will be nothing short of spectacular. Get ready for seven fully colored pages packed with high-octane combat sequences, dynamic paneling, and stunning artwork by ctmlkusa that captures every emotion and every moment I''ve envisioned. This is more than a debut; it¡¯s a promise of greatness. Be there to witness it shortly after Christmas.


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.Volume 3


    Volume 3 will be completed soon. Following its conclusion, I will resume work on Absolute Execution.

 Predator

    Any second now, one of them will move. Whoever moves... will most certainly die.


    The assassin surprised me by moving in tandem with the brawler slumped against the wall. It was an unspoken synchronization. The assassin lunged forward with his knife. The brawler, despite his apparent exhaustion, roared and swung a massive punch toward me. The punch was slow. Too slow. I twisted my hand in a smooth arc, redirecting the brawler¡¯s momentum. His fist veered off course, colliding perfectly into the path of the assassin¡¯s blade. A sickening sound of metal slicing flesh filled the room.


    The brawler froze. He stared at his hand now impaled by a vicious stab wound. I ducked low. In one fluid motion, I shifted my weight and thrust my leg upward in a powerful front kick. The force sent the brawler hurtling upward, his body crashing against the ceiling. The knife in his hand and the poison that had coated it were now out of the equation.


    The assassin unsheathed another knife. This one was plain and without his poison. He came at me in a flurry. Each thrust was aimed for my vitals¡ªheart, throat, lungs. His technique.. more refined than Jack''s. I stepped back, my feet gliding effortlessly across the floor as I evaded each attack. I swiped the blade to my left, parrying the strike with my forearm. The force of his attack barely made me flinch.


    A smirk tugged at my lips. "This is all you''ve got?" I taunted, my voice calm. The assassin''s eyes narrowed. He flipped the knife over his hand, changing his stance. His body leaned forward, weight balanced on the ball of his back foot. His heel lifted slightly off the ground¡ªa clear indicator of a skilled duelist. This assassin here knows his stuff.


    In a great burst of speed, he dashed toward me, thrusting his knife like a rapier. The sudden change in tempo almost caught me off guard. Almost. With a quick shift of my stance, I countered with an uppercut. My knuckles slammed into his chin, the impact snapping his head back violently. His fingers remained deft. Using just his index finger, he flicked the blade toward my face. The knife spun in the air, its edge flashing menacingly as it closed the distance.


    My eyes widened as I raised my hand in a precise spear-hand strike. The edge of my palm sliced through the knife mid-flight, splitting it clean in half. The fragments clattered to the floor at my feet, harmless now.


    The brawler came sprawling down from the ceiling, his weight crashing against the wooden planks below. The brittle wood groaned under the impact, splintering into jagged shards as his bulk forced it to give way. He twisted mid-fall, his body spinning like a wheel, and extended his heel in a ferocious axe kick aimed straight for my head. I caught his descending heel in my palm with a sharp clap. My joints bent instinctively, absorbing the power of his attack. I tightened my grip on his ankle.


    With a sharp pivot of my hips, I swung him through the air and slammed him onto the ground. The impact was devastating. The dull crack of his spine breaking echoed through the room, and his body went momentarily limp. He lay sprawled on his back, dangerously close to Caleb¡¯s unconscious form. Despite his injuries, the brawler¡¯s fighting spirit refused to wane. With a guttural roar, he swung his fist at me, even from his crippled, disadvantageous position.


    I reacted swiftly, raising my foot and deflecting the wild punch with a sharp tap of my sole. The desperation in his attack only made his movements more erratic. I bent down, my fingers curling into a rigid spear-hand as I delivered a precise slice across his chest. Blood welled from the deep gash, staining his torn clothing as he let out a strangled gasp. The pain became too much for him to bear. His body convulsed slightly before his eyes rolled back into his head. I straightened, my gaze snapping toward the remaining three.


    <hr>


    It¡¯s clear to me now¡ªwe stand no chance. My poison knife was gone, buried somewhere in the chaos. Thane lay sprawled out, unconscious. Kai¡ªKai might be dead. Ben was dead. And Jura? Jura was barely upright, his body battered and trembling, in no condition to fight. I stood frozen.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Lilith leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear. Her words crushed me. "Buy me some time. I''m leaving."


    My mind was overcome by a wave of ecstasy, a foreign sensation that dulled my senses and chained my thoughts. It was as though I had ceased to be myself. My actions felt distant, my body a mere puppet to the intoxicating pull of her command.


    The Piercing Serpent, standing across from me, remained silent. He didn¡¯t need to speak. This wasn¡¯t the same man I had stopped from brawling with Hal in the tournament. The aura around him now was dark and unreadable. A serpent in every sense. We had overestimated ourselves¡ªdrastically. The poison I had so meticulously crafted over the past month, the one weapon that allowed us to even graze Demon Buddha, wouldn''t work on this type of man. Jura followed orders.


    He hoisted Lilith over his shoulder. Blood dripped from his wounds, painting a trail as he stumbled out of the building. He knew what I knew. There was no winning here. And then, the Piercing Serpent vanished. Not with a rush of movement or a blinding blur, but in a way that left only a faint speck where he had once stood. It was as though the very air had swallowed him whole. My heart slammed against my ribs. I spun around, only to be greeted by a sight that froze my blood. Five fingers, curled, hovered no more than a millimeter from my skull. I couldn¡¯t even see the strike.


    It was over.


    <hr>


    "I¡¯m sorry, madam. They were too strong." I apologized. Lilith exuded an aura of calm.


    Her fingers trembled as she bit her nails¡ªa subtle yet telling sign. "We need to hide." she snapped, her composure slipping with every word. "Hurry the hell up! Tarek is most likely dead by now...


    A voice, smooth and chillingly close, cut through the tension. "You¡¯re right."


    My heart sank, and my body tensed. Too late. A heavy force smashed into my spine, sending agony exploding through my already broken body. My knees buckled, and I barely managed to keep my grip on Lilith, shielding her from the brunt of the impact. I slammed against the unforgiving concrete. My body dragged across the rough surface, skin scraping away with each painful inch. I refused to let go of her. No matter the pain, I wouldn¡¯t allow her to suffer any of it.


    I struggled to lift my head, only to see him¡ªThe Piercing Serpent. He stood there, calm and composed, his gaze piercing through me as if he were dissecting my very soul.


    He cracked his neck. "You run pretty fast for a big guy." he said, his tone almost amused. Pain coursed through every nerve, but I forced myself to rise.


    My knees wobbled, but I planted my foot firmly on the ground, clutching my battered body with one hand. "Run, Lilith..." I wheezed, barely able to form the words. "I¡¯ll..."


    Lilith was already gone, her figure disappearing into the distance, quick and decisive. She didn¡¯t need me to tell her twice. I raised my trembling left hand, positioning it in a shaky guard. My vision blurred as blood trickled into my eyes. I stared at The Piercing Serpent, mustering the last of my strength. "Give it your best shot." I challenged, my voice a hollow echo of defiance.


    He moved faster than I could see, blitzing forward. His fist drove into my stomach, the air rushing out of my lungs. "I don¡¯t need to." he replied, pulling his hand back as I crumpled to the ground. My body refused to move. A faint smile crept across my face. I¡¯d done enough. Lilith was quick on her feet¡ªshe¡¯d escape.


    She had to.


    The Piercing Serpent casually placed his hands in his pockets. "Good work, soldiers. Hold her tightly." he said.


    I twisted to look behind me. Lilith was caught, her arms pinned in a vice-like bear hug by one of Sun¡¯s soldiers. She writhed and kicked, her efforts futile. How?! How were there still so many of them left? My eyes darted to the two figures in white uniforms standing nearby. Something about them didn¡¯t add up. They weren¡¯t part of the roster listed in the paperwork we had studied before this.


    "Go save the Demon Buddha!" the Piercing Serpent barked. "Three of you stay with me to interrogate and record information." The two men in white nodded, dashing toward the place where the Demon Buddha had fallen.


    I scoffed, spitting blood onto the ground. "He¡¯s near death... he won¡¯t survive!" The Piercing Serpent smiled. "His body defies understanding." he said with certainty.


    Lilith struggled. "Unhand me! I was a Flame!" she screamed.


    The Piercing Serpent closed the distance, his hand shooting out to clutch her jaw with a cruel grip. He leaned in close, hateful. "Shut your mouth," he hissed. "you¡¯re nothing to Sun now. Actually, you¡¯re below that. Our worst enemy would get better treatment than you." Let... go of her! His hand snapped across her face. Lilith¡¯s head jerked to the side, a red mark blooming on her cheek as her breath hitched. The Piercing Serpent¡¯s cold, unwavering gaze bore into her. "Now," he said, his tone unrelenting, "answer my questions."

 12/09/24

    Formatting


    I will be reformatting the story to make it more coherent and reader-friendly. This includes improving the structure of dialogue breaks, which I¡¯ve learned can significantly affect the reader''s experience. Feedback made me realize how disruptive poorly formatted dialogue can be, and I aim to address this issue thoroughly. To ensure the best quality, there will be a brief pause in chapter releases for the next three days while I focus on enhancing the story''s overall readability and presentation.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

 War

    I adjusted her posture with a firm grip on her chin, forcing her to face the smoldering ruins of the building behind us. The flames reflected in her eyes, dancing with a mix of fear and defiance. "Emma told me your name was Lilith," I began, my voice low and steady, though anger simmered beneath the surface. "You left Sun to create the Fist of God. We had a great relationship... until you decided to do this. Were you forced to?"


    Her gaze faltered, slipping away to the side, her lips pressing into a thin line. "No," she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. "it was of my own volition. I was paid."


    The words struck me like a blow, and my temper flared. "Paid?!" I yelled, my voice echoing amidst the rubble. "For mere coin, you try and assassinate two Flames?!"


    She straightened slightly, summoning a shred of defiance, though her eyes betrayed her unease. "It was a lot of money! It wasn''t like the person who hired us was some random slouch."


    I wrestled with my fury. Whoever this person was, they wielded enough power or influence to tempt the leader of a Major Clan. I needed to find out who. Releasing her chin, I turned my attention to her boytoy, sprawled helplessly on the ground nearby. His battered form twitched as my shadow loomed over him.


    I kept my tone measured but cold as I addressed her again, "Who was it?"


    She hesitated, chewing on her lip as if weighing her options. Finally, she spoke, her voice tinged with desperation. "Swear by the sun you won''t kill me after I tell you."


    Swear by the sun? The phrase caught me off guard. I shot a glance at one of my soldiers restraining her, my brow furrowing. "What''s she mean by that?"


    He responded immediately, his tone matter-of-fact. "When you swear by the sun, you have to uphold whatever you said you''d do. If you don''t, your punishment is immediate execution, sir."


    Clever. She was exploiting my ignorance, attempting to corner me into an oath. My jaw tightened as I considered my options. Then, while letting killing intent leak, I placed my boot on the boytoy''s back, pressing him into the dirt. "Ok, sure." I said, the words laced with menace. "We can arrest you. I swear by the sun not to kill you after you tell me." I let my words hang in the air for a moment, watching her reaction carefully before adding, "Swear by the sun you''re telling me the truth as well."


    Her lips moved in sync with my oath, her voice carrying a solemn weight. "I swear by the sun that it was Endo Nukujima."


    The name meant nothing to me, and frustration bubbled to the surface. My boot ground down on the boytoy¡¯s back, forcing a pained gasp from his lips. "You act like I know who that is!" I snapped.


    Lilith¡¯s face twisted in concern, her eyes darting toward the broken man beneath me. "Endo is one of the strongest members of Obsidian!" she blurted, her voice trembling slightly. "He''s known for his loyalty. He wouldn''t have done anything without Toda¡ª" She froze mid-sentence, her mouth clamping shut as if she''d said too much. Her hesitation was damning.


    I pressed, "Toda?"This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    She reluctantly clarified, her tone hushed. "Toda''s the leader of Obsidian. Anyways, he wouldn''t have done anything without his approval..."


    My patience was wearing thin, and I shifted my gaze to the nearest soldier. "Do you know of Endo?" I asked, my voice sharp.


    He nodded solemnly. "He''s the fifth ranked in Obsidian, sir. He oversees the Nephrite Fort in Trivoko. If what she says is true¡ª"


    I cut him off with a swift swipe of my hand. "Don''t say another word!" The weight of the revelation churned in my mind, a storm of possibilities taking shape.


    Glancing slightly to the left back to Lilith, I issued my orders. "Restrain her with handcuffs and take her to a holding cell. The guards I met at the gate aren¡¯t under her payroll, right?"


    Another soldier stepped forward, shaking his head. "No, sir. While the Fist of God is the ruling clan, the noble family of Fraerex is responsible for maintaining order. They wouldn''t go against the Fist of God for most things, but with Sun''s influence and their crime, they''ll comply with our commands."


    A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. I snapped my fingers decisively. "Good! Take her there!" Lilith offered no resistance, her shoulders slumping as she surrendered to her fate. She didn¡¯t even spare me a glance as she was led away, her silence almost unsettling.


    I then turned my full attention to her boytoy, seizing him by the scruff of his tattered suit. His body was limp, a pathetic sight as I hauled him upright. "For you, though..." With a surge of anger, I hurled him into the nearest brick wall. The sickening crunch of impact echoed through the space as his body crumpled to the ground, broken. My breath came in heavy bursts, my thoughts racing. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s dead. Caleb fought five guys who could go toe-to-toe with that? And he was poisoned too... I shook my head in disbelief. Good God, he¡¯s a monster.


    The tension in my chest eased slightly as I turned to the soldiers. "Let¡¯s go to the hospital." I said, my voice low but resolute. It¡¯s time to wish that monster well.


    Two hours later..


    The doctors administered a cocktail of specialized drugs to Caleb, designed to accelerate his recovery without the risk of addiction. These treatments worked miracles on his broken body, but they came with one significant drawback¡ªcrippling fatigue. Caleb wouldn¡¯t be able to fight for a long time. Even so, his body was already mending itself at a remarkable pace. Shattered bones were knitting together, torn muscles regrowing with almost unnatural speed. His breathing was shallow but steady, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with the machines monitoring his condition.


    Suddenly, his eyelids fluttered, and he shot awake, his body trembling as if jolted from a nightmare. I instinctively raised my hand to calm him. "It''s okay... Caleb. We won."


    He grimaced, his hand going to his arm as he groaned, "Argh... I feel terrible."


    I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. "You''re alive. They''re not."


    He didn¡¯t dwell on himself, his mind immediately shifting to the situation. "What happened?"


    I leaned forward, my voice measured. "The Five Fingers are dead. Many of our soldiers and officers are dead. Lilith is in our custody."


    Caleb let out a long sigh, a mix of relief and exhaustion. "Emma found you, didn''t she? I was hoping she would."


    A small smile tugged at my lips. "She did." I then frowned, "But so did Obsidian. Obsidian hired Lilith to assassinate you and me."


    His reaction was instantaneous, his voice a thunderous roar. "What?!"


    I clenched my fist, my nails biting into my palm as I steadied myself. "It was Endo. I''ve been doing my research on him. Lilith showed us three thousand gold that she supposedly was paid with, and she swore by the sun."


    Caleb clicked his tongue in frustration, his face twisting with concern. "She knows what swearing by the sun means. This is such bad news."


    His determination flared despite his weakened state. He struggled to rise, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. I placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back down. "Don¡¯t. You need to recover." For a moment, he glared at me. Then he relented, his body sinking back into the mattress.


    His voice dropped, heavy with dread. "You don''t get how bad this is. This isn''t something we can sweep under the rug. Too many are dead! We need to head to Grand Sasebella now."


    My heart sank as he said, "This is war."

 12/20/24

    Break


    I will be taking a break from January 14th through mid-February as I undergo major surgery. This will be an important time for recovery, and I appreciate everyone¡¯s understanding and support during this period. Once I¡¯ve fully recovered, I¡¯ll be returning to work on Absolute Execution.


    Volume Four Update


    I¡¯m aiming to complete Volume Four before my surgery in January. This includes wrapping up all of the backlogged art chapters to ensure the story¡¯s progression remains smooth and engaging. I¡¯m working hard to make sure this volume delivers the quality and excitement you¡¯ve come to expect.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Comic Release


    Exciting news! The comic adaptation is still on track and will officially debut in the first week of January. I hope everyone is as hyped as I am¡ªI can¡¯t wait for you to see the story brought to life in this new format.


    100 Followers


    I¡¯m beyond thrilled and grateful to reach this incredible milestone with all of you! Your support, feedback, and encouragement mean a lot to me.

 Departure

    Three days later..


    I didn''t realize it before, but Sun is a powerhouse. Its influence was undeniable, and it left ripples that reshaped Mas Kuli after what became known as the Blazing Fist incident. The fallout caused three major changes in the town.


    First, the Fist of God underwent a complete and drastic reorganization. Once feared as a dual-force entity¡ªpart clan, part entertainment juggernaut¡ªwere left in disarray. Their strongest, the Fingers, were eradicated, and Lilith, their calculating and ruthless leader, now sat behind bars. Without leadership, they crumbled like a house of cards. In the aftermath, they rebranded themselves as Fight Club, stripping away the clan''s militant ties and dedicating their efforts solely to hosting and managing the arena.


    Harry, the charismatic announcer of the Burnout Tournament, was unexpectedly thrust into the role of Fight Club''s manager. Though lacking in experience, his popularity among the locals and fighters alike made him a natural choice. Upon restructuring, Fight Club made its first move: an official and public apology to Sun. They were desperate to avoid retaliation, handing over their leverage with trembling hands. This act of submission presented us with an opportunity we couldn¡¯t pass up. Using their vulnerability to our advantage, we negotiated a lucrative deal: ten percent of the arena''s profits would now flow directly to Sun''s coffers.


    The second shift was in governance. The Blazing Fist incident left a power vacuum that couldn¡¯t be ignored. With the Fist of God toppled, the noble family of Fraerex swiftly rose to prominence. They seized the opportunity and absorbed many of the Fist of God''s former members into their fold. With their established resources and newfound manpower, the Fraerex family consolidated their control over Mas Kuli, positioning themselves as the ruling authority.


    Lastly, the town''s economy underwent a dramatic transformation. Mas Kuli had long been a town sustained by blood, sweat, and broken bones¡ªits economy revolved almost exclusively around the brutal spectacle of fighting. But now, the tides were shifting. Under the Fraerex family''s guidance, the town began diversifying. Commerce expanded into a near-even split between fighting and shopping. The noble family''s vision was clear: they sought to reshape Mas Kuli''s image into one that attracted tourists rather than just brawlers. With new marketplaces, boutiques, and fine dining cropping up alongside the iconic arena, the town began to exude a more welcoming atmosphere.


    So far, their efforts seem to be paying off.


    That leads me to what I¡¯m doing now. I leaned against the cold, damp wall of the dungeon, the faint flicker of torchlight casting dancing shadows across the rough stone. The scent of mildew hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid metallic tang of despair. I took a deliberate bite of a juicy red apple, savoring the crunch as my eyes fixed on Lilith¡¯s battered visage behind the rusted iron bars of her cell.


    Her hair matted and her face streaked with the grime of imprisonment. Her sunken eyes betrayed exhaustion, but even so, there was a faint glimmer of stubborn pride that hadn¡¯t yet been extinguished.


    ¡°How¡¯s it feel to have everything stripped from you?¡± I asked, my tone calm but cutting, the apple crunch echoing in the otherwise silent chamber.


    She sat on the filthy floor, her knees drawn to her chest. Without lifting her gaze, she replied, her voice a hoarse whisper, ¡°I¡¯m still alive. I have to be grateful for that.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I crouched down, my boots scraping against the uneven floor as I brought myself to her eye level. Dangling the apple just out of reach, I said, ¡°I¡¯ll give you this apple if you tell me how your power works. I know they¡¯ve been starving you.¡±


    Her eyes locked onto the apple, hunger flashing across her features. Her dry, cracked lips parted slightly, and for a brief moment, I thought she might take the bait. But she clenched her fists, shaking her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know how it works yet,¡± she said, her voice laced with frustration and an undercurrent of honesty. ¡°it¡¯s not based on any qualifying factor I know of. I do know how often it works though. One percent of men.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the vagueness of her answer. ¡°One percent.¡± I took another slow bite of the apple, letting the juice drip deliberately to the floor. ¡°Well, no apple for you then.¡±


    Her shoulders sagged ever so slightly, but she said nothing.


    ¡°Lucky for you, however, we¡¯re leaving today.¡± I added, my tone shifting to one of detached finality. I snapped my fingers, and the sound reverberated through the chamber. Two men stepped forward from the shadows. ¡°Restrain her and follow me.¡± I ordered, rising to my feet.


    The men nodded in unison, unlocking the gate with a loud creak that echoed like a death knell. As they stepped inside, Lilith stiffened. They tied her hands tightly with coarse rope, the fibers digging into her already bruised wrists. She struggled briefly, but the fight left her quickly. She knew better than to waste energy she didn¡¯t have. With a resigned glare, she allowed them to drag her to her feet. Her defiance hadn¡¯t completely left her, but the weight of her situation pressed down like an iron shroud. I turned on my heel, tossing the half-eaten apple onto the ground just outside her cell. It rolled to a stop, the red skin now marred by dust and dirt. We ascended the winding stairs to the surface.


    Twenty minutes later..


    Caleb leaned heavily against the wooden beam of the stable, the creaking protest of the aged timber threatening to betray his weight. The beam wobbled slightly, but Caleb didn¡¯t seem to care. His right arm rested in a sling. Still, the rest of his body was healing at an impressive pace¡ªa testament to his resilience.


    I approached, waving to catch his attention. ¡°How¡¯s that recovery going?¡± It had been a few days since I¡¯d last seen him. Between my duties as the Flame and the constant tension in Mas Kuli, my time had been stretched thin. I hadn¡¯t wanted Caleb to stress, especially not while he was recovering.


    Caleb turned, stroking the sleek neck of one of the horses. The animal whinnied softly, leaning into his touch. He stood nearly as tall as the horse, his broad frame casting a shadow in the warm afternoon sun. ¡°I feel better,¡± he said, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. ¡°I still can¡¯t fight, but give it a month, and we¡¯ll see.¡± The horse neighed again.


    I nodded and stepped closer, revealing the figure behind me. Lilith. Her wrists were bound, and her expression was anything but happy. ¡°I bought an extra carriage for her,¡± I said, keeping my tone even. ¡°I don¡¯t want her manipulating one of our soldiers and causing trouble. I¡¯ve assigned a few men she can¡¯t control to guard her.¡±


    Caleb¡¯s eyes darkened as he shifted his focus to Lilith. His usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by something colder, more primal. His glare was sharp enough to make even the strongest-willed person falter, and Lilith wasn¡¯t immune. ¡°Leo will have uses for you, I¡¯m sure.¡± Caleb said, his voice low and edged with malice. Lilith avoided his stare, her eyes dropping to the ground. Her defiance wavered, replaced momentarily by unease. Caleb straightened and turned to me. ¡°Our caravan is prepared at the front gate.¡± he said, motioning toward the path.


    We walked together, Lilith trailing behind, flanked by her guards. The front gate loomed ahead, its thick wooden panels groaning as they slowly swung open. Hah, those are the same guards that welcomed me. The caravan emerged into view, and it was nothing short of grand. Ornately crafted carriages painted with the emblem of Sun gleamed in the sunlight, their intricate designs reminding me further of our power. The horses pulling them were powerful creatures, their polished coats glistening with vitality.


    Caleb spread his left arm wide, a grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight. ¡°Obsidian has no idea who they¡¯ve messed with!¡±

 Arm

    "That''s the reality of this world. The moment you appear weak, someone will take advantage," Caleb said, his voice steady yet laced with a hint of resignation. His broad shoulders nearly brushed the walls of the royal carriage. He takes up so much space.


    I sat across from him, feeling the gentle sway of the carriage as it moved along the cobbled road, next to Jane, who was quietly observing the passing scenery. The carriage itself was a sight to behold, painted in vibrant hues of orange, red, and white, with intricate zig-zag patterns adorning the interior. The warm cushions provided comfort against the chill of the impending winter. The air inside was cozy, contrasting with the cold bite of the wind outside, a reminder that winter was fast approaching in Mas Kuli. Despite this, we were journeying southwest, toward a region where snow was but a myth.


    I looked at Caleb, intrigued by his words. "Are you referring to what happened to the Fist of God?" I asked.


    He yawned, stretching slightly in the confined space, "To anyone, really. It just so happened to happen to them recently. The noble family, who were in the shadows, are now in the spotlight." His gaze shifted to the window, where a solitary flake of snow lazily drifted down, melting as it touched the glass. "That''s why Leo is like that. People have to change for violence to end, but it never will."


    He turned to Jane, who had been silent throughout the conversation, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the carriage¡¯s lanterns. "What do you think?"


    Jane stuttered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and resignation, "I''ve lived under and around evil, and as much as I wish for it to change, I have to agree. We have to accept it."


    I couldn''t hold back my response. "Do we?" I interjected, leaning forward slightly, my eyes searching hers for any flicker of hope. "With that defeatist attitude, we will have to accept it. One man can''t change the world, but if he rallies others, maybe, just maybe, the world will get just a tiny bit better."


    Emma, who had been quietly reviewing a clipboard filled with documents beside Caleb, looked up, her brow furrowed in thought. "That''s what we need." she murmured, a hint of determination in her voice. Then, a small smile crept onto her lips as an idea formed. "What if there was one centralized power?"


    Caleb chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that filled the carriage. "It''s funny you mention that," he said, tilting his head as he regarded Emma. "that''s what Leo is trying to achieve. He wants Sun to be the one ruling power of this country."


    Jane, who had been listening intently, suddenly spat out, her tone filled with incredulity, "All that power in one person''s hands?"


    Caleb clicked his tongue, shaking his head slightly. "The Flames would also hold a part of said power." he explained, attempting to diffuse her concern.


    I leaned back, slowly closing my eyes as if trying to envision the world we were discussing. "One just power," I said softly, "kept in check by the people, with certain inalienable laws ordained to everyone by a righteous and fair ruler."


    The carriage grew silent, each of us lost in thought, contemplating the enormity of such an idea.


    Four hours later..


    I had learned many things about Caleb during our journey. He had a wife waiting for him in Grand Sasebella, a woman who anchored him and gave his fight purpose. He fought not just for himself but for her, for their shared dreams. It was admirable, but it also complicated things. I wanted to recruit him, to have him on my side, but his loyalty posed a significant problem. Would his allegiance to Leo supersede his loyalty to me or even his own family? Most likely. From everything I had gathered, Leo was a master manipulator, pulling strings and controlling those around him. To truly understand Caleb''s devotion, I need to meet Leo in person, to confirm my suspicions.


    The carriage slowed to a halt, the sun hanged low in the sky. It was nearly dusk, and the air was beginning to cool. The time had come to set up camp for the night. Caleb reached over to the right windowsill, his large hand gripping a lever. He rolled it down, the window descending smoothly. Leaning out, he shouted to the attendants outside, his voice carrying the authority of someone used to giving orders, "Set up the camp already!"This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    He pulled back inside, a satisfied smile on his face as he turned to us. "Let''s go outside, everyone." he said, his tone lightening. "I have something fun for us to do."


    "And what''s that?" I asked, curiosity sparking as Caleb stepped out of the carriage.


    He raised his humongous left arm, muscles bulging beneath his sleeve. "Arm wrestling!" he declared with a grin, the playful challenge lighting up his face.


    I stepped aside, letting Jane and Emma exit first. Jane shot Caleb a concerned glance, her brow furrowing. "You''re hurt, Caleb. You should rest." she said, her voice soft.


    Emma nodded in agreement, placing her clipboard on a makeshift table the soldiers had hastily set up. "We need your recovery to be smooth for what''s upcoming." she added.


    Caleb''s expression softened as he glanced toward the few carts at the back, where the bodies of fallen comrades were solemnly laid. His frown deepened. "The atmosphere has been worrisome," he admitted, a trace of sadness in his voice. "many of our friends died, and I want to introduce some joy again. We need something to lift our spirits, even if just for a moment."


    He turned back to Emma, his eyes regaining a bit of their earlier spark. "Emma, bring two chairs and a sturdy table here," he instructed, his voice taking on a gentle coaxing tone.


    Emma sighed, shaking her head but relenting. "Only because you convinced me." she muttered, walking off to fulfill his request.


    As she moved away, I began rolling up the sleeve of my long jacket, revealing my arm, taut and ready. "Caleb, I know what you''re able to do." I said, my voice carrying a slight challenge. "But aren''t you underestimating me too much? You know I''ve transcended."


    Caleb''s smile widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Weight classes exist."


    The table and chairs were brought quickly, and I took my seat on the right side. The soldiers, having completed their duties, began to gather around, forming a tight circle of anticipation and excitement. Their eyes were fixed on the table, eager to witness the upcoming clash of strength.


    A large man with a stern expression crossed his arms, leaning slightly forward. "The Piercing Serpent stands no chance." he declared, his voice low and confident. "He''s a speed and technique type of martial artist."


    Another man, wearing a hoodie that obscured most of his face, nudged him with a grin. "Can technique overcome the Demon Buddha in the first place?" he asked, a note of curiosity in his tone, as if genuinely pondering the odds.


    I extended my arm, flexing my fingers as I prepared for the test of strength, "You ready, Caleb?"


    Caleb primed his left arm, his muscles coiling like a spring ready to unleash. "Ready as I''ll ever be." he responded, his tone calm yet resolute.


    Our hands clasped, a brief moment of mutual respect before the battle began. The large man who had spoken earlier placed his hand over ours. "When I let go, go."


    He released his hand, and I immediately summoned all my strength, every muscle in my arm firing in unison. My veins pulsed with the effort, and I felt Caleb''s arm respond in kind. He didn''t budge, but it was clear he wasn''t winning without effort either. I pushed harder, my focus narrowing as I noticed his arm begin to lean slightly to the right. I could feel victory within reach. "I can win!" I thought, every fiber of my being straining toward that goal.


    Caleb''s eyes locked onto mine, his expression darkening with determination.


    "Fifty percent."


    The force from his arm surged, nearly doubling, and I felt my arm being pushed back, bending uncomfortably in the wrong direction. I clenched my teeth, refusing to yield. I cannot lose this! I gripped tighter and holding on for dear life. "C''mon...!" I grunted, the strain audible in my voice. The soldiers erupted in a chorus of cheers and shouts, their excitement electrifying the air around us. "You got this, Vellin!" Jane cheered, her hands clapping enthusiastically.


    Emma joined in, her smile bright as she clapped. "This is good!" she exclaimed.


    What if I try implementing Piercing Hand into arm wrestling? The idea formed quickly, a strategy born of necessity. If I try... replicating the twisting motion!


    My forearm felt like it was about to burst, but the technique began to take effect. Slowly, I managed to push Caleb''s arm back, almost returning to the starting position. Hope surged within me, only for Caleb to smirk, his eyes narrowing further.


    "Eighty percent."


    He slammed my arm through the table with such force that the wood shattered beneath me, sending splinters and dust flying everywhere. The sound echoed around us, silencing the crowd for a moment as the sheer impact registered in everyone''s minds. My arm throbbed from the sudden and overwhelming force, the sting of defeat seeping into my pride. I looked up at Caleb, my breath ragged as I took in his formidable figure. He stood over me, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with exertion. His eyes, still sharp and intense, met mine, and for a moment, we both understood the vast gulf between us in sheer power.


    If I''m a serpent, you''re an elephant.

 Disrespect

    One day later..


    I sat on the rough, weathered log in front of the crackling campfire, the orange flames casting flickering shadows around the camp. The heat from the fire provided a welcome contrast to the cool night air that settled over the camp. The scent of burning wood mixed with the faint aroma of the forest, creating an oddly comforting atmosphere. Caleb walked over and sat down beside me. The sudden shift in weight on the log made my end shoot up, nearly throwing me off balance. I grabbed the edge quickly to steady myself.


    "Sorry." Caleb muttered, glancing at me with a sheepish grin before popping some pills into his mouth. He retrieved a canteen from his belt and took a few gulps to wash them down, the sound of water sloshing audible in the quiet camp.


    He looked at me, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "Where were you and Jane when we were attacked?" he asked, his tone more concerned than accusatory.


    Ah, I guess I hadn''t filled him in yet. My eyes fixed on the dancing flames, and I stared blankly forward, lost in thought. "We snuck out the window to go shopping." I replied, keeping my voice steady. That wasn''t the whole truth, but it wasn''t a complete lie either. The real reason was that I needed to send a trained pigeon to Zero, informing him of my progress.


    Caleb nodded slowly as he finished his water, the canteen making a soft clinking sound as he capped it. "So that''s why you came in with new clothes. I see." he said, a hint of understanding in his voice.


    I took a bite of the red apple in my hand, its crisp sweetness a brief distraction. "Jane stayed with Emma when she found us, with a few soldiers accompanying them." I explained.


    Caleb crushed the plastic cup in his hand with a casual squeeze and tossed it into the trash can behind him with a swift motion. The sound of it hitting the bottom echoed faintly.


    I turned my head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Why waste a cup?" I asked, genuinely curious about his casual disregard.


    He pointed to the trash can, smirking. "That''s plastic. It was invented a few years ago. I guess Zero wasn''t able to afford any." he said, leaning back against the log and letting out a content sigh.


    "Anyways, how did Emma find you?" Caleb asked, his tone shifting back to curiosity.


    I laughed inwardly at the irony. "Pure luck," I answered, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. Luckily, I was heading back when she stumbled upon me. She had no idea what I was actually doing.


    A large man, his bulk imposing even in the dim light, passed by carrying a tray laden with food. His shoulder brushed mine as he walked past, the impact making me lean slightly to the side. "It was luck that you lasted that long against the Demon Buddha too," he remarked gruffly, not stopping as he continued towards the officer tables.


    The next day..


    We set up camp again, the familiar routine of pitching tents and arranging supplies already second nature. We were now four days away from Grand Sasebella. I looked over to a gathering of five men, their figures silhouetted against the campfire''s glow. Each one was familiar, their reputations preceding them. Caleb had told me about these five. Strong, capable fighters, but their strength had bred a sense of arrogance, a lack of respect that was hard to ignore. Those two traits, as Caleb had pointed out, were not mutually exclusive.


    I approached them, and tapped one on the shoulder, drawing his attention. "Hey, all of you, follow me." I ordered, my voice firm. Without waiting for a response, I turned and began walking toward an open grassland nearby, a space the assistants had prepared earlier in the day. The grass was soft underfoot, and the expanse was mostly free of trees, a perfect arena for what I had planned.


    "Line up shoulder to shoulder," I commanded as we reached the clearing. They hesitated at first, their movements slow, but the sharpness in my voice made them comply. I yelled, "Now!" The force of my words cut through the cool night air, and though some gave me dissatisfied looks, they obeyed, forming a line on the grass, shoulder to shoulder, their expressions a mixture of defiance and curiosity.


    I stood in front of them, my hands casually tucked into my pockets, but my gaze was anything but casual. "Tell me your names," I demanded, my eyes scanning each face.


    The big guy stepped forward slightly, his voice deep and gruff. "Felix." he said.


    The smaller tan man followed, his voice lighter but firm. "Nadim."Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    The handsome man, his features sharp and clean, said, "Lu."


    The short man, who seemed almost out of place among the taller figures, spoke next. "Bello."


    Finally, the man in the middle, definitely the weakest, declared, "Rufino."


    I locked eyes with Felix, shooting him a glare that could cut steel. "Do you think what you said to me yesterday was acceptable?" My voice was low but dangerous, each word a blade aimed directly at his pride.


    Felix stammered, his earlier bravado crumbling. "N-n-no. It was just a joke¡ª"


    I interrupted sharply, my tone brooking no argument. "No. It was an insult disguised as a joke. You all have been mocking me over my loss to the Demon Buddha, thinking it makes you superior." My voice rose, filled with the fury of unacknowledged pain and simmering frustration. "So right now, in accordance with Sun''s laws, you will be punished through combat!" I stepped back slightly, placing my right arm behind my back, my posture deceptively relaxed. "Go all out from the beginning."


    Felix moved first, his body darting in a zigzag pattern as he closed the distance. His movements were swift and calculated, each step creating small clouds of dust on the grassy terrain. As he approached, he raised his left leg high, dropping his heel toward my shoulder in a powerful axe kick. I caught it with my left hand, the sheer force and wind pressure of the strike surprising me for a brief moment. With a quick push upward, I sent him flying backward toward one of the nearby trees. I heard the distinct snap of a branch breaking, followed by the heavy thud of his body colliding with the trunk. The tree shuddered under the impact, leaves rustling and a few fluttering to the ground.


    He bounced off the tree?


    Felix quickly recovered, extending his leg again with renewed determination. "I''m a proud Officer of Sun." he declared, his voice filled with pride and defiance.


    I sidestepped to the left, straightened my arm, and clotheslined him mid-air. The force of the impact made his head jolt backward violently before he crashed to the ground, the breath escaping his lungs in a harsh grunt. Standing over him, I responded firmly, "I''m a proud Flame of Sun."


    Lu and Rufino launched a synchronized barrage of attacks. Their fists and kicks came at me from all directions in the scuffle, but I adeptly dodged each one. Lu pulled his left arm back for a powerful strike, while Rufino mirrored him, cocking back his right arm. Seeing their intent, I brought both my hands forward, raising my pointer fingers to meet their fists. The impact was absorbed with precision, and I held their muscular arms in place. I glanced at their straining muscles and remarked, "I''m sad I had to use both arms against you lot. I wanted to challenge myself."


    Suddenly, Bello launched a roundhouse kick from above, his body twisting in mid-air to deliver the strike. Sensing the attack from behind, I ducked under the sweeping kick, feeling the rush of air as his leg passed just above my head. I grasped Rufino''s and Lu''s arms tightly, using their momentum against them. With a burst of strength, I threw them headfirst into the ground, the impact reverberating through the clearing as dirt and grass scattered around.


    Nadim, seeing an opening, shouted, "You''re open!" He charged toward me, attempting a one-arm tackle aimed at my midsection. His speed and intent were commendable, but as he lunged, I jumped into the sky, narrowly evading his grasp. The ground below seemed to drop away as I soared upward, leaving Nadim''s tackle to miss its mark entirely.


    I descended swiftly from my jump, driving my right fist into the ground with a heavy impact. The earth beneath us collapsed and cracked under the force, sending shockwaves through the clearing and disorienting everyone. They struggled to regain their footing. Taking advantage of the chaos, I blitzed toward Nadim. With precision, I delivered a swift hand chop to his neck, targeting a vital point.


    Bello stood frozen, his eyes wide with fear as he witnessed Nadim''s defeat. Trembling, he stammered, "I give." Without waiting for my response, he raised his fist and punched himself in the chin, knocking himself out cold. His body fell limp to the ground, leaving only two.


    Lu''s yelled with disbelief. "You fool! We have to believe!" His words were a desperate rallying cry, but they did little to bolster his own morale.


    I clenched my jaw. I dashed toward Lu. He barely had time to react before I was upon him. "Knowing when to give up is a necessary skill." I said. I prepared to deliver a decisive uppercut, my fist aiming for Lu''s jaw, but Rufino intervened.


    In a split second, Rufino sacrificed himself, throwing his arm up as a shield to protect Lu. My fist collided with Rufino''s arm, and a loud crack echoed. He fell to the ground, clutching his now broken arm, his face contorted in pain. Lu''s rage ignited, his eyes blazing with fury. He let out a primal yell, launching into a series of heavy haymakers, each punch driven by raw emotion. I met his onslaught with calculated precision, blocking each wild swing with just a finger, dispersing the force with minimal effort. His final strike came with his right arm, and I noticed the transformation¨CReinforced Fist. He brought it down in a powerful hammer fist, aiming to, I assume, get revenge for his friend.


    I met his attack with three fingers, the clash of force sending a shockwave through the air. The intensity in Lu''s eyes dissipated as he realized his attack had been neutralized. The rage drained from him, replaced by a weary resignation.


    I began cocking my fist back, the tension in my muscles coiling like a spring. "That was a good attack," I acknowledged, the corners of my lips curving into a faint smile. "let me show you what a perfect attack is." I formed my hand into a spear shape, and the air around my hand began to ripple, the force of my energy creating visible waves. Lu stood before me, his arms now hanging limply at his sides, the fight drained from him. His gaze met mine, and in that moment, he understood. I let go of the energy, my hand dropping to my side without delivering the strike. He fell to his knees, his head bowed in defeat. The silence was thick, broken only by the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.


    I placed my hands back into my pockets, my posture relaxed but my voice carrying authority. "Don''t disrespect your superiors."

 01/18/25

    Release Schedule


    Starting today, I will be releasing one chapter per day for the next four days. Following this, I will take a two-week break before resuming my regular schedule of releasing two to three chapters per week. I initially believed I could complete Volume Four before the surgery I just had, but the scope of this volume has expanded significantly, making it impractical to do so.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    <strong style="font-size: 1.8em">Comic Update


    The comic is nearing completion, and my new profile picture is actually a small panel from it.


    Art Update<strong style="font-size: 1.8em">


    The art chapter for Volume Four is expected to be released within the next week. There will be less standalone art for this volume, as the comic will largely fulfill the visual content needs.

 Grandiose

    The days dragged on with the five insubordinate officers facing harsher reprimands. They were assigned the most degrading tasks¡ªlatrine duty being their main punishment. Their groans and grumbles often drifted through the camp. Meanwhile, we made steady progress, passing through a few small, sleepy towns along the way. Most of them were unremarkable clusters of modest homes, small markets, and occasionally a temple or shrine, their inhabitants wary of our passing yet quick to offer polite nods.


    Now, we stood less than two miles from our destination, Grand Sasebella. Finally, something to break the monotony of this tiresome journey.


    The trip had been, if I¡¯m honest, dreadfully boring. Each day blurred into the next¡ªmarching by day, sleeping in tents by night. Even the luxurious tents provided for the officers offered little comfort. Their soft bedding and decorative rugs couldn¡¯t disguise the fact that we were still far from comfort. I just got used to luxury, and for it to be taken away...


    As we crested the final hill, the sight of Grand Sasebella stole my breath for a moment. The city sprawled out before us, a marvel of structure and organization. From this vantage point, I could see that the city was constructed in a series of concentric rings, each with its own distinct character. The outermost ring was a patchwork of fertile farmland, golden fields swaying in the breeze and neat rows of crops stretching as far as the eye could see. Interspersed were pens and pastures filled with livestock¡ªcattle, sheep, and even some exotic beasts I didn¡¯t recognize. Strong soldiers patrolled this area, their faces serious as they moved with purpose. Some carried long spears, while others managed ledgers or engaged in conversations with farmers. I noted that taxes were being collected.


    Beyond the farmland, the second ring bustled with energy. It was a hive of activity even from a distance. There were clusters of small one-story buildings that looked to be shops, cafes, and bustling workshops. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the faint hum of life¡ªa murmur of conversation, the clanging of metal, and the creak of carts¡ªreached even us. Narrow cobblestone streets twisted through the area, and I could just make out figures moving about, haggling or carrying goods.


    The third and innermost ring loomed just beyond. From here, I could only catch glimpses, but I imagined it was filled with tightly packed apartments, finer homes, and likely the wealthier merchants or minor officials.


    Caleb leaned back slightly in his seat, his piercing gaze fixed on me. ¡°We¡¯re almost there. You remember what I told you?¡±


    I exhaled slowly, trying to push the weight of anticipation from my shoulders. ¡°Yes, I remember.¡±


    He nodded, his usual sternness softening for just a moment. ¡°Good. Your image as a Flame now is going to be made or broken through your actions in the city. If you laze about and don¡¯t pull your weight, you¡¯ll be demoted. And trust me¡ªonce that happens, you¡¯ll never have the chance to be a Flame again. But if you work hard, if you help our citizens, they¡¯ll respect you, and they¡¯ll help you in return.¡±


    His words weren¡¯t new, but they needed to repeated.


    The carriage came to a slow halt, the creaking of its wheels replaced by the muffled hum of voices outside. Caleb pushed the door open, stepping out with practiced grace, his boots landing firmly on the ground. I followed, more hesitant. My boots hit the road, but my body froze as I took in the sight before me.


    A crowd, massive and lively, stretched along the concrete road for what felt like an eternity. I quickly estimated it to be at least a mile and a half long. The sheer number of people was overwhelming. They stood shoulder to shoulder, shouting, laughing, and whispering amongst themselves. All eyes, however, were on us. This was no ordinary crowd. This was a ritual, an ancient tradition among the citizens of Grand Sasebella, welcoming new Flames. Or perhaps testing them.


    I stood still, arms at my sides, the weight of my new role pressing down on me. Beside me, Caleb seemed unaffected, his face set in a mask of indifference. He wasn¡¯t concerned¡ªhe¡¯d been through this before.


    The citizens began their part of the ritual. Objects flew through the air¡ªflowers, fruits, coins, even handfuls of dirt. Anything they could get their hands on. Their aim varied; some threw halfheartedly, while others hurled with precise force. The intention was clear: to test the temperament and personality of the new Flame. How I responded to this barrage would define me in their eyes. Caleb strode forward without a second glance, ignoring everything as if the crowd didn¡¯t exist. He was a stone in a rushing river, untouched by the chaos around him. His approach screamed discipline and focus.


    I remembered the stories Caleb had shared about others who¡¯d taken this same walk. Each Flame had handled the trial in their own way, their choices becoming part of their legend.


    Lilith, the witch, used her boytoys as human shields, letting them absorb the brunt of the objects thrown her way. A performance, no doubt, but one that left a strong impression on the people. Kaiguro, with his monstrous strength, had chosen an entirely different method. He strode forward confidently, swiping everything away with his powerful right hand, as if the objects were mere annoyances beneath his notice. Alexander, sharp and deadly as his blade, had used his sword to slice through anything that came his way, showcasing his mastery with every step. The citizens had roared their approval at his precision.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Then there was Finn, the ''fast'' one. Hands buried deep in his pockets, he weaved effortlessly through the onslaught, dodging everything without breaking his casual demeanor. His aloofness had made him both admired and mysterious.


    And now it was my turn. What would I do?


    Caleb¡¯s voice boomed. ¡°Let the ritual of the Burning Mile begin!¡±


    The roar of the citizens grew deafening. They surged with energy, eager to see how I would handle the trial. My heartbeat quickened, but I forced myself to focus.


    Of course, I was going to use Piercing Hand.


    I planted my first foot forward, my body loose yet deliberate, and let my arms fly. They swayed and cracked like whips through the air, spinning with deadly force. The citizens wasted no time. Rocks flew at me from every direction¡ªsmall, sharp projectiles meant to test my resolve. As soon as they entered the maelstrom created by my technique, they disintegrated into harmless dust, scattering in the wind like sand. The crowd¡¯s frustrated shouts and murmurs grew louder. They weren¡¯t used to this. With each step, I gained momentum, my arms twisting and turning, a constant blur of motion.


    Then, I altered my stance slightly, feeling the weight shift in my movements. I let one arm swing backward, allowing it to cover my blind spot. It was a variation of the Mingling Cuts technique I¡¯d been perfecting¡ªa new move I called Mingling Barrier. The backward sweep created a protective shield of force behind me as well. I was covered from all directions.


    More rocks sailed through the air, some faster, some heavier, but it didn¡¯t matter. My movements adapted, the technique flowing. My pace continued.


    The citizens yelled in frustration, their tactics growing more desperate. But I didn¡¯t falter. Slowly, step by step, I moved forward, inching closer to the open gates of Grand Sasebella. A few hundred meters remained. Victory was within sight. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a massive figure pushing his way to the front of the crowd. The sea of citizens parted as a hulking man, broad-shouldered and towering over everyone, came into view. He carried a massive boulder in his hands, veins bulging in his arms from the sheer weight of it.


    He grinned wickedly, shouting in a voice that rumbled like thunder, ¡°Move, ma! I got ¡¯im!¡±


    The crowd cheered as he heaved the boulder upward with surprising agility for his size. The massive rock arced high into the air, its shadow blotting out the sun for a brief moment before it began its descent. This was a boulder, and it was coming down fast. I wouldn¡¯t have time to disintegrate it fully before it reached me.


    I stopped my movement and drew in a sharp breath. My legs tensed, grounding me like roots into the earth. My right fist cocked near my hip, muscles coiling like a spring. Timing was everything.


    The boulder fell, faster and faster.


    I punched.


    The force of my strike met the boulder with a resounding crack. The rock split cleanly into two jagged halves, the pieces hurtling past me on either side. For a brief moment, my visage was obscured, hidden behind the fragments of stone. My movements resumed, seamless and precise, as if nothing had happened. The fragments of the boulder were caught in my technique, disintegrating into dust within seconds.


    I made my way to the entrance of the city, my eyes scanning ahead. There it was¡ªa white line drawn across the ground. Its stark color stood out against the worn concrete road, marking the end of the trial. I assumed it signified the boundary of the ritual.


    I crossed it.


    ¡°That¡¯s the end!¡± Caleb¡¯s voice rang out behind me, sharp and clear, cutting through the lingering murmurs of the crowd.


    I let my arms fall to my sides, the momentum of Piercing Hand fading into stillness. My hands were coated in rock dust, the fine gray particles clinging to my skin. I flexed my fingers, shaking off some of the residue, but the gritty texture remained.


    Caleb stepped forward, his expression uncharacteristically light as he clapped a firm hand on my back. ¡°That was good, Vellin. If you¡¯d just sprinted to the end, or copied someone else¡¯s method, that would¡¯ve been lame. But no¡ªyou showed off your style. You showed those citizens why you¡¯re a Flame.¡±


    I nodded slightly, the weight of his praise sinking in. For Caleb, a man who rarely gave compliments, this was high regard.


    What''s that?


    An overwhelming presence entered my range. It radiated authority, strength, and something else. Something sharper. Anger. But not just any anger¡ªthis one was directed at me. My body tensed instinctively, and I kept my head low, my gaze fixed on the ground.


    ¡°Ah, sir!¡± Caleb¡¯s tone shifted immediately, becoming more formal. ¡°Why are you out of Headquarters, Leo¡ª¡±


    I heard the clang of metal as he touched something¡ªa staff, perhaps, or a ceremonial blade. The sound seemed to echo unnaturally loud in the silence that had fallen over the area. ¡°I had to see what all the fuss was about.¡± Leo continued. His tone was measured, yet every word struck like a hammer. ¡°This is the one you were talking about?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Caleb replied, his voice steady but deferential. ¡°It¡¯s Vellin. Vellin Cardaire. I can personally vouch for his loyalty. He saved me and my crew, after all.¡±


    Leo¡¯s presence grew heavier, the weight of his gaze alone could press me into the ground. He smiled, though the expression carried a cold edge. ¡°How does he know Piercing Hand?¡±


    Every word he spoke sent a shiver through me. I couldn¡¯t explain why, but my body recoiled, as if rejecting his very existence.


    Caleb cracked his neck, a small habit of his. ¡°Zero taught it to him.¡± he said bluntly. ¡°When Zero kidnapped him. Vellin hated him, ran away, and came to us.¡±


    I could feel Leo¡¯s eyes boring into me, dissecting every inch of who I was. Then, without warning, he stepped closer and reached out, tapping the top of my head.


    ¡°Stand upright.¡± he commanded.


    For reasons I couldn¡¯t fathom, my body obeyed before my mind could process it. My spine straightened, and I lifted my head, meeting his gaze for the first time. His eyes were piercing, sharp like the edge of a blade, and they seemed to see right through me.


    Leo clasped my hand in a firm grip, his strength evident even in this simple gesture. ¡°Nice to meet you, Vellin,¡± he said, his voice softer now, though no less imposing. ¡°we¡¯ll get you through your induction as a Flame over the next couple of months. You have my eternal thanks for saving Caleb.¡±


    I managed a nod, but his presence still loomed over me like a storm cloud.


    Then he asked a question, his face unreadable, his emotions hidden behind a carefully crafted mask. ¡°After Caleb shows you around, can we spar?¡±

 Burn

    Grand Sasebella is a sprawling city situated southeast of Mas Kuli and east of Chatna. It boasts a population of approximately twenty thousand residents, it is of significant importance in the region. Among its populace, a tenth are directly employed by Sun, serving as its workforce and backbone, while the remaining residents find employment elsewhere. Despite their varied professions, every citizen of Grand Sasebella pledges unwavering loyalty to Sun¡ªa bond deeply embedded in the city''s culture and governance. Here, no one goes without the means to live, though the degree of comfort one enjoys is a reflection of their social standing.


    The city is designed with precision, structured in concentric circles, each serving a distinct purpose.


    The Outer Circle.


    This layer is dominated by vast stretches of farmland, the lifeblood of Grand Sasebella¡¯s economy. Citizens here toil to cultivate crops and rear livestock, ensuring a steady supply of food and trade goods for the city and the surrounding country. The outer ring serves as a bustling hub for commerce, with caravans frequently arriving and departing, laden with goods.


    The Fourth Circle.


    Moving inward, this layer houses one-story buildings that include shops, modest apartments, inns, and hotels. It is the domain of the middle class, where hardworking citizens live modest but comfortable lives. The streets here are lively, lined with market stalls, local eateries, and small workshops.


    The Third Circle.


    This area is marked by two-story buildings, including dojos where martial artists train, offices for various trades, and government buildings that oversee the city''s administration. The third circle reflects a mix of practicality and purpose as citizens focus on honing their craft or advancing their careers.


    The Second Circle.


    Reserved for the affluent, this district features elegant residences ranging from one to three stories, often adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant gardens. Shops catering to luxury goods are scattered throughout, their wares accessible to anyone who can afford them. Despite its exclusivity, the second circle maintains a subtle charm, blending opulence with accessibility.


    The First Circle.


    At the heart of Grand Sasebella lies the grand Sun Headquarters, a pavilion of monumental scale. This structure radiates authority and strength. The pavilion houses numerous specialized facilities.


    A state-of-the-art gym, equipped with weights ranging up to five tons, where members push their physical limits.


    A training center, where officers rigorously drill soldiers in advanced techniques.


    An entertainment complex, offering card games, live performances, exquisite food, and fine drinks¡ªa sanctuary for relaxation and camaraderie.


    A management building, the nerve center for Sun¡¯s administrative operations, where paperwork and finances are meticulously handled.


    Soldiers¡¯ Barracks. Compact shared rooms, fostering camaraderie and discipline among the rank and file.


    Officers¡¯ Quarters. Slightly larger private rooms, offering solitude for those who prefer it.


    Flames¡¯ Residences. Lavish two-story homes, equipped with every conceivable luxury, reflecting their elite status within Sun¡¯s hierarchy.


    At full capacity, the headquarters can accommodate up to one thousand soldiers, two hundred officers, and five Flames. However, it rarely reaches this limit, as many members reside within the city or operate in distant territories, pursuing endeavors that align with Sun¡¯s profit-driven model or personal ambitions¡ªalways with the clan¡¯s blessing.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    That¡¯s all I could gather about the city, with Leo shadowing us the entire time like a shadow. As we made our way through Grand Sasebella, the stares directed at Leo, me, Emma, Jane, and Caleb were intense¡ªburning with curiosity, adoration, and positivity. Caleb seemed unfazed. He spent most of our journey talking, his voice a steady stream of explanations as he delved into the finer details of the city¡¯s layout and history. He gestured animatedly, pointing out significant businesses or commenting on the traditions behind the concentric design.


    Try as I might, I couldn¡¯t focus on his words. My thoughts were elsewhere, scattered like leaves in the wind. The enormity of Grand Sasebella, its people, and the looming presence of Sun''s Headquarters dominated my mind. Leo¡¯s presence only added to the tension. His silent demeanor and sharp gaze seemed to amplify the attention we were receiving, as if the people recognized him or perhaps feared him.


    Jane, Caleb, and I stood before a forty-by-forty-foot concrete platform inside the pavillion, its surface cold and unyielding under the dimming light of the evening. Leo sat back in a simple chair nearby, his posture deceptively relaxed. His sword rested at his waist, the sheath blending seamlessly into his dark attire. Despite its stillness, the weapon seemed to pulse with an unseen presence. I couldn¡¯t tear my eyes away from it. Why did it fill me with such unease?


    ¡°You¡¯re a good tour guide, Caleb,¡± Leo remarked, his voice breaking the silence.


    Caleb smiled at the praise, his tone eager but measured. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    Leo¡¯s katana glinted faintly in the waning sunlight as he adjusted its position. Its presence was oppressive, as if it carried the weight of countless battles. My stomach churned, and I forced my gaze away.


    Caleb, oblivious to my discomfort, shifted the topic. ¡°Leo, when are we going to ordain Vellin? Is it going to be after he studies the laws, like tradition says, or...¡±


    Leo leaned back slightly and looked toward the darkening sky, his expression thoughtful, even contemplative. The moment stretched long before he spoke again.


    ¡°You sent Lilith to our prison, right?¡± he asked abruptly.


    Caleb responded quickly, as if afraid of hesitation. ¡°Yes, sir. She¡¯s rotting away.¡±


    Leo frowned, a subtle shadow of disapproval crossing his face. ¡°We don¡¯t want that. She can still be useful. Feed her enough to live.¡±


    Lilith. Her name alone sent a chill down my spine. She was a Flame once, their friend. I knew what she¡¯d done, but Leo brushed aside their memories so fast.


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Caleb said, though his words lacked conviction. He pressed on with his earlier question. ¡°are you going to answer my question?¡±


    Leo¡¯s gaze shifted, locking onto mine. His stare felt like a physical force, weighing me down, testing me before I even stepped onto the platform.


    ¡°We can ordain Vellin after he spars with me.¡± he finally said. ¡°With Obsidian on the attack, we can¡¯t wait for someone of his caliber to study laws for two months. I¡¯m going to send him on a mission immediately. Kaiguro, Finn, and Alexander have been sent pigeons with new orders.¡±


    He stood in one smooth, fluid motion. ¡°On the platform.¡± he ordered.


    Leo¡¯s hand moved to the hilt of his katana, and he strode toward the right side of the platform. My heart pounded in my chest as Jane touched my hand for a brief moment.


    ¡°You got this.¡± she whispered.


    I managed a faint smile. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    She could sense my nerves; they were impossible to hide. Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the left side of the platform. My steps felt heavier with every movement, each one carrying me closer to the inevitable clash.


    As I positioned myself, a short woman approached Caleb¡¯s side, her presence sudden yet somehow natural. She wrapped an arm around his, her voice soft and familiar. ¡°Welcome home, Caleb.¡±


    Caleb blushed furiously, his confident demeanor crumbling in an instant. ¡°Yumi...¡± he stammered, caught off guard.


    I¡¯d never seen him so flustered.


    Leo smiled faintly at the sight, a rare display of amusement. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing, to have a woman by your side.¡± But then he ruined it with his next statement. ¡°Why not have dozens?¡±


    Even when Leo was speaking nonsense, his words made me recoil internally.


    Leo¡¯s tone shifted, growing sharp and direct. ¡°I want you to overwhelm me when I¡¯m at fifty percent. If you cannot, you will be demoted to an officer. You would be the highest rank, but still an officer. For reference of my power, Caleb only got to seventy-five percent before he dropped.¡±


    A shiver crawled down my spine at the comparison.


    ¡°This may be a spar,¡± Leo said, his voice laced with finality, ¡°but in Sun, even that could cause death.¡±


    He unsheathed his sword in one swift motion, revealing a pristine white katana. Its blade shimmered like polished bone, deadly and beautiful.


    ¡°Are you frightened?¡± Leo asked, his voice as sharp as the weapon he wielded.


    I raised my hands, forming two spear hands. ¡°Yes.¡± I admitted. My voice trembled but didn¡¯t waver. ¡°You¡¯re an obstacle in my way to what I want to achieve. But I¡¯ll overcome it! Because that¡¯s who I, Vellin Cardaire, am!¡±


    Leo shifted his stance, holding the katana with one hand. His body angled slightly, his gaze calculating. ¡°Then overcome me, right here, right now.¡±

 Percent

    I surged forward, my fingers rigid, driving a high-speed thrust toward Leo¡¯s abdomen. He barely managed to twist out of the way, the air rippling from the sheer force behind my strike. I shot past him, stopping ten feet ahead¡ªa choice that made him hesitate.


    Most fighters would want to stay close against a swordsman. Blades carve through the air with ease, their arcs carrying weight and momentum that fists and feet cannot match. But I had no intention of fighting by standard rules.


    I pivoted sharply, my stance resetting in an instant, and launched another piercing strike at his midsection¡ªthis time even faster. My hand speared forward like a lance, my fingertips a focused point of destruction. Leo reacted late, his body shifting to dodge, but I was already adjusting. Instead of overcommitting, I dashed to the side, forcing him to second-guess. Then, with a burst of speed, I closed the gap again.


    This time, my strike landed. My hand tore across his chest, carving a deep, red line into his flesh. He gasped, staggering, but I gave him no time to recover.


    I was already moving. Another thrust shot toward him, precise and relentless. He barely managed to deflect it with his sword, steel ringing against my forearm. But unlike a blade, my body sustained no damage. I absorbed the impact and snapped my arm back into position, completely unharmed.


    My movements were explosive. Each strike was like a whip, cutting into his arms, chest¡ªany opening I could find. Over and over, I repeated the motion, my body flowing into a rhythm as natural as breathing. Each time I struck, I dashed to the side or backward, keeping him guessing, throwing off his timing.


    The arena echoed with the sharp sounds of my strikes, the tearing of fabric, the faint thuds of impact. Blood began to streak his skin, his movements growing more frantic as he struggled to keep up. But I was relentless, a blur in his eyes.


    Then I went in one last time, my eyes locked on his. I could see it¡ªhe was starting to adapt. His dodges were becoming sharper, more calculated. He was beginning to read the rhythm of my attacks.


    Perfect.


    Instead of repeating my usual motion, I opened my palm mid-strike. His eyes widened, but it was too late. My hand clamped onto his shirt collar, the fabric bunching in my grip. With a surge of strength, I hurled him forward. His body twisted as he flew into the air, but he maintained control.


    He hung there, suspended for a moment, completely exposed. I leapt after him with an explosive burst of power. My spear hand shot upward, then came down in a savage arc, slicing deeper into his chest. The sound of tearing flesh and his second gasp filled the air.


    I stomped down hard on his chest. The force of the impact sent him plummeting toward the ground like a meteor. Dust erupted as his body slammed into the earth, and I landed lightly a moment later, standing over him with my hand still poised to strike again.


    But, he began to adapt fully.


    I aimed a sharp punch at his face. He intercepted it with his sword, the steel biting into the space between my index and middle fingers. A smirk tugged at his lips as he met my glare.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Piercing Hand was handed down to the right one." he said, dripping with amusement. His blade shifted, slicing into the tender flesh of my interdigit. Pain flared in my hand, and instinct took over. As he pushed the blade upward, I leapt back to avoid further damage, my blood trailing in the air.


    He straightened slowly, his eyes calculating as he steadied his footing. "Your technique is subpar compared to Zero," he commented, his tone a mix of mockery and begrudging respect. "but your power is excellent."


    He took a deliberate step forward, slightly to my left, poised. The next instant, his sword came slashing toward me. I met it head-on, deflecting the blade with Severed Soul. The impact jolted my hand, and I grimaced as his weapon carved into my skin. Even though his sword wasn¡¯t made of darksteel, whatever alloy it was forged from rivaled its toughness. He switched his sword into a reverse grip, the motion fluid and practiced. The blade came at me in a diagonal slash, but I ducked under it just in time. Seizing the opening, I struck him hard in the liver with a sharp punch. He grunted, and I landed a spinning roundhouse kick square on the cheek.


    He stumbled back, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, his movements faltering. His expression betrayed his frustration¡ªat fifty percent of his strength, he was no match for me. I could feel it. I was certain of it.


    I shifted to my left hand, curling its middle finger. My right hand was still throbbing from the deep slice to my interdigit, so I couldn''t use that hand for this technique. I blitzed forward again, driving my middle finger into the pectoral muscle of his right chest. The blade-like motion of my hand tore through skin and tissue, and I retracted it just as quickly, blood spraying from the wound.


    This is my chance!


    I cocked my fist back, my veins throbbing. I drove an overhand punch into his left cheek. The impact sent him crashing into the ground, the sheer force breaking the earth beneath him and leaving a crater in his wake. Dust rose in a thick cloud, but through the haze, I heard a faint, chilling whisper escape his lips.


    ¡°Seventy percent.¡±


    His body vanished. My eyes darted around, searching desperately, but he was faster than my perception could track. I felt his presence behind me. I turned, only to see his blade suspended mere inches from my neck.


    ¡°Stop now. You passed.¡± Leo warned, his voice calm but heavy with authority.


    I froze. I couldn¡¯t deny the truth. At seventy percent, he had completely surpassed me. He bypassed my perception when speed is my best attribute. I couldn¡¯t begin to imagine the power he would wield at one hundred percent.


    Slowly, I raised my hands in surrender. ¡°I surrender.¡±


    Leo smiled faintly, lowering his blade. ¡°Good. You¡¯re quite strong. I expected to overwhelm you from the get go, but you overwhelmed me instead. I knew I¡¯d have to push to seventy percent, as you¡¯re most likely slightly above sixty percent.¡±


    He stepped back, his gaze scanning me with a mixture of respect and amusement. Leo looked as if he had sustained minimal damage. His wounds were already healing, the cuts and bruises fading as if time itself had been accelerated.


    I glanced down at my own injuries, noticing that they too were beginning to mend, though at a slower pace. This was far from over for me.


    I extended my hand, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions within. ¡°Thank you. That taught me a lot.¡±


    Leo grasped my hand firmly and shook it, his expression softening. ¡°No problem. Welcome to Sun.¡± He released my hand and turned his attention to Caleb standing in the distance. ¡°Caleb, begin the preparations.¡±


    As Leo let go, I stared at my hand for a moment. My fingers tightened slightly, a faint tremble running through them. I had just shaken the hand of the man who killed my parents.


    But none of that mattered¡ªnot yet. It was all part of the plan. I will get stronger, and I will overthrow him. There are martial artists out there, warriors who don¡¯t yet realize the potential they hold. I would find them. I would gather them.


    Wars aren¡¯t won by the weak masses but by the strong few. And few is more than one.


    Right now, I was one. I need at least seven.

 Ordain

    Three hours later..


    What a jumble of emotions. I¡¯m being welcomed into the strongest clan, not just as a guest but as a top rank¡¯s significant other. A position of prestige, yet one laced with irony¡ªbecause that very top rank has every intention of destroying the clan from within. I kept my expression smooth, unreadable.


    I haven¡¯t yet experienced the clan¡¯s luxury firsthand, but judging by the extravagant attire of the high-ranking officials around me, I¡¯m in for a life of comfort. Flowing silks, embroidered patterns that shimmer under the lantern lights, and heavy ornamental jewelry¡ªall signs of status and privilege. The scent of incense and rare perfumes lingers in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of roasted meats and spiced teas being carried in silver trays by quiet-footed attendants.


    A bodyguard assigned to me leans in, his voice low and professional as he whispers into my ear, ¡°Do you want me to grab any nourishment for you, miss?¡±


    I raise my palm in a polite refusal. ¡°No, thanks.¡± I have no appetite, though I can¡¯t tell if it¡¯s because of nerves or the sheer strangeness of my situation.


    At least I¡¯m dressed for the occasion¡ªthough I can¡¯t help but think I could have gone for a better look. My red maxi dress clings to my form just enough to show elegance without being overly bold.. An orange sun is stitched along my right shoulder, its rays extending outward in delicate embroidery. Leo is particular about symbolism in clothing, always ensuring our outfits carry unspoken messages wherever we go. To outsiders, it¡¯s a mere artistic choice. To us, it¡¯s a statement.


    Most clans allow their members to wear whatever they please, only requiring a designated battle uniform for combat. But even in such a system, friendly fire is common. Rank and recognition mean everything in a world where power is earned through force, and sometimes, a misplaced strike is just another way to test the hierarchy.


    A well-dressed, short man weaved his way through the crowd toward us, his tailored navy-blue jacket. The air around him carried the faint scent of aged wine, no doubt from the glass he swirled lazily in one hand. Unlike the others who kept their distance¡ªthanks to the presence of my two towering bodyguards¡ªthis man seemed emboldened, if not outright entitled.


    He took a slow sip before raising his glass slightly in my direction. ¡°To you, madam.¡± he said smoothly, though there was an air of smugness beneath his toast.


    I arched a brow, meeting his gaze with confusion. He responded with an exaggerated bow, a dramatic flourish that made it clear he fancied himself a man of importance. ¡°I see you¡¯re from out of town. Quite the esteemed guest, too, judging by the fact that you have two of Sun¡¯s finest guarding you.¡± His tone dripped with intrigue, but the glint in his eye told me he wasn¡¯t just making casual conversation.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Then, with a self-assured smirk, he extended his free hand. ¡°Care for a dance?¡±


    I barely held back my sigh and rolled my eyes, already tired of his theatrics. One of my bodyguards shook his head, his voice firm yet polite. ¡°She does not.¡±


    The man snickered, swirling the last remnants of his wine. ¡°You might not know who I am, but I pay plenty in taxes and donate even more. Leo knows me well, so you¡¯d best dance with me.¡± His smirk widened into something more condescending. ¡°Just because you¡¯re some hotshot somewhere else doesn¡¯t mean you can disrespect me.¡±


    He reached for my hand and attempted to pull me toward the dance floor. His fingers closed around my wrist, his confidence unwavering¡ªuntil he actually tried to move me.


    His feet scraped against the polished floor as he tugged with increasing effort. My arm remained fully extended, my body unmoving, while he struggled like a man trying to haul a fallen tree. The murmur of the crowd quieted as onlookers took notice. Whispers spread as they watched this pompous, well-fed man struggle to drag a woman just above half his weight.


    Annoyed, I spread my fingers and shifted my stance just slightly.


    He lost his balance instantly, his grip failing as he tumbled backward. The stem of his wine glass snapped as it struck the ground, the deep red liquid splattering onto his fine suit. A jagged shard left a small tear in the fabric, though his wounded pride was far more visible than any damage to his clothing.


    A nearby waiter arrived but offered no assistance. Instead, he merely stepped around the fallen man and quietly cleaned up the mess, his expression neutral.


    I leveled my gaze at the pathetic heap before me and spoke calmly, ensuring my words carried enough weight to crush whatever was left of his dignity. ¡°I¡¯m the Piercing Serpent¡¯s girlfriend.¡±


    The shift in his demeanor was instant. His eyes widened with a flash of genuine fear. Whatever arrogance he had left evaporated, replaced by the realization of who exactly he had just embarrassed himself in front of. He pushed himself up, dusted off his ruined suit, and hurried away, his shoulders stiff with humiliation.


    The sharp ring of a bell cut.


    A voice called out above the crowd: ¡°The new Flame is entering!¡±


    <hr>


    I stepped onto the golden-red carpet, the fabric plush beneath my polished shoes. The grand hall stretched before me, illuminated by the flickering glow of hanging lanterns and the glint of gold filigree woven into every pillar. My posture remained straight, composed, though I couldn¡¯t shake the nagging awareness of my attire.


    Zero had gifted me this white suit, swearing it was the height of fashion. What he failed to mention was that it was popular in his day. The cut, though well-fitted, carried an outdated flair¡ªbroad shoulders, a high collar, details that set me apart not in prestige but in an almost laughable way. I could already feel the whispers forming among the spectators, but I ignored them. I wasn¡¯t here for their approval.


    I continued forward until I stood directly in front of the Golden Throne. A chair no one but Leo could occupy. Because... he is the strongest in the world.


    I pictured Zero sitting there in his prime¡ªa younger version of the man I had come to respect, the one who shaped my path. The vision felt surreal, a glimpse into a past I never lived yet somehow understood. But reality pulled me back.


    I lowered myself onto one knee. The only time I ever would. The only time I had to.


    The room held its breath as he raised his sword, the blade gleaming under the warm light. He brought it down gently, the dull edge resting against my right shoulder.


    I closed my eyes.


    His voice rang clear. ¡°I now ordain Vellin¡ªwho shall be called the Serpent by his lesser¡ªas the Fifth Flame.¡±


    The real thing starts now.

 Meeting

    Leo pushed open the bright orange door, its polished wood gleaming under the warm glow of the lanterns that lined the walls. The room inside was spacious, yet not overly extravagant. The furniture had an air of elegance but was clearly designed for practicality rather than luxury. A long, wide table stretched across the center. Bright orange chairs, their cushions plush but firm, were meticulously arranged around it. At the far end sat a single, slightly larger chair, its high back emblazoned with the symbol of the sun. It was meant for someone important¡ªsomeone in charge. A few platters of food rested on the table, freshly prepared, their aroma mingling with the faint scent of parchment and wax.


    Leo stepped inside confidently, his dark red cloak swaying with his movements. "Welcome, Vellin, to the Flame¡¯s meeting room." he said. His voice carried the weight of leadership, firm but not unkind. I followed him in, my footsteps barely making a sound on the smooth stone floor.


    As I took in my surroundings, Caleb, who had been standing near the back, gestured toward the chairs. "Sit down anywhere you like other than that one." He pointed toward the large chair with the sun emblem.


    Makes sense. It wasn¡¯t my place to sit there, nor did I have any intention of doing so. I chose a chair somewhere in the middle, positioned where I could see everyone clearly. Leo and Caleb took their seats soon after.


    Leo wasted no time. "I''ve been doing my own study and research, and there''s no other way to say it." His expression darkened, his hands folding together. "It''s war."


    Caleb''s jaw tightened. "They tried to assassinate me and Vellin!" His hands clenched into fists against the table. "Of course it''s war! It¡¯s time to wipe Obsidian from the map."


    Leo¡¯s lips curled into a small, approving smile. "I agree. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve already set things into motion." He leaned forward slightly. "I''ve sent out carrier pigeons to Alexander, Finn, and Kaiguro, assigning them their new respective missions. But we¡¯re here to discuss you two specifically."


    He turned toward Caleb first. "Caleb, your mission is to stay here and recover for another month. You¡¯re still not up to par. You are the second strongest in Sun, and you are this city''s protector. Your presence here is non-negotiable."


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Caleb looked like he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue. Instead, he exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair with a frustrated nod. I understood his frustration. Being told to sit on the sidelines was never easy, especially for someone like him.


    Leo then turned his attention to me. "Now, Vellin, on the other hand, is ready."


    I straightened in my seat, my focus sharpening. "What do you need me to do?" I asked without hesitation.


    Leo¡¯s eyes held a mixture of weight and certainty. "Obsidian has been making few moves, but each move they are making is drastically unfavorable for us." His fingers drummed lightly on the table. "Vellin, you are going to get revenge. Endo, the man who hired Lilith and the Fist of God, will die by your hand."


    That¡¯s good. No, that¡¯s very good.


    The man had orchestrated attacks that led to untold suffering and loss, tipping the scales in Obsidian¡¯s favor. Removing him would be a significant blow.


    I nodded, but my mind was already moving ahead. "Well, where is he?"


    Leo stood and strode to the far wall. With a swift motion, he pulled a cord, and a large map of the country unrolled from a hidden compartment. It stretched nearly from ceiling to floor, the details meticulously inked. Mountains, rivers, and cities were carefully marked, their names written in bold script.


    Leo raised the hilt of his sword and tapped it against a specific point below Het. "This is Trivoko," he said. "a large city known for its gold mines. Obsidian has taken control of it, using Endo and his elite force to seize mining operations. With this gold, they¡¯re hiring mercenaries. Given their current actions, I assume they¡¯re preparing for an all-out attack."


    His expression darkened further. "That¡¯s all our spies told me before we lost contact."


    A cold realization settled over me. If Obsidian¡¯s hold on Trivoko remained, they¡¯d soon have the resources to field an army strong enough to challenge us confidently.


    Leo continued, "We are strong, us Flames, but there are many others out there who can hold their own as well. Enough of them, with our forces spread thin as they are now, and we will lose."


    I studied the map, my fingers tracing the route from here to Trivoko. "And my objective, specifically?"


    "Simple," Leo said. "Kill Endo. Free Trivoko. Secure a smaller portion of the gold profits to aid our efforts."


    I nodded. It was a clear, direct mission, one that played to my strengths.


    Leo¡¯s gaze locked onto mine. "How much time do you need? Your newly appointed army will be ready by tomorrow, and Trivoko is not far, only five days away by carriage."


    I exhaled through my nose, considering the variables. The journey itself was straightforward, and my strategy was straightforward.


    Absolute and total destruction of them all.


    My eyes locked onto Leo. "I only need six days."

 Cruelty

    Six days later..


    I sat at my desk, fingers drumming idly against the worn wooden surface. A single candle flickered beside a pile of neatly stacked reports. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and the lingering trace of sweat from the long day. I let out a quiet sigh, leaning back in my creaking chair, my gaze drifting toward the open window. The town below was silent, almost too obedient. The citizens had been cooperative¡ªtoo cooperative.


    It wasn¡¯t what I liked.


    I lived for resistance, for the desperate, futile struggles of men who still clung to the idea of freedom. I liked watching that hope crumble under my boot, their spirits breaking as they realized their efforts meant nothing. But for days now, there had been nothing. No riots, no attempts at escape. Just silence. A dull, mind-numbing silence.


    Then, the door to my office slammed open with a bang. One of my subordinates, clad in the standard dark uniform of Obsidian, stumbled in, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. Sweat glistened on his brow, and I could see the tension in his stance.


    "Sir, a few dozen men at the gold mine have refused to work and have taken down a few of our soldiers!"


    I waved a dismissive hand, barely sparing him a glance. "Take care of it yourself. You guys are plenty strong."


    He didn¡¯t move. I expected a quick ¡°Yes, sir.¡± followed by the sound of boots retreating down the hall, but instead, there was hesitation. I looked up. His eyes flickered downward, avoiding my gaze, his jaw clenched tight.


    "That''s the thing, sir..." His voice wavered slightly. "these men were part of the Lithberg Royal Guard. It would take six or more officers to take them down, and they''re busy."


    The Lithberg Royal Guard.


    These were trained loyalists, men who had once been the backbone this city. Warriors.


    I exhaled sharply, scratching the back of my head.


    "Alright," I muttered, pushing myself up from the chair. "I''m coming."


    Twenty minutes later..


    I walked down the main street of Trivoko, the uneven cobblestones worn smooth by years of laborers and soldiers treading the same path. The air was thick with dust, kicked up by the steady march of my boots. The farther I went, the stronger the scent of iron and sweat became¡ªthe gold mines that lay ahead.


    Toda had been furious when the Eclipse Contract fell through. His wrath had been swift, but since I had proven my worth elsewhere, the punishment had been mild. A warning rather than true discipline. I could live with that. As long as I remained successful, I was untouchable.


    Beside me, my subordinate hesitated before speaking. "Sir, these are some of our best workers. Are you going to kill them?"


    I adjusted my glasses, the metal frame cool against my fingertips. "If you rebel, you die. That¡¯s been our warning since day one. They will be made an example of." My voice was steady, void of emotion. Mercy had no place in a system built on control.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    I sensed movement¡ªsomeone entering my range from my left blind spot. My body reacted on instinct. In a single motion, I snapped my right hand toward the intruder, grasping their head before they could strike. With a swift, effortless motion, I hurled them to the ground.


    A dull thud echoed as their body collapsed, motionless. Limp.


    Then, the few dozen rebels emerged onto the main street. Their clothes were in tatters¡ªragged, dirt-streaked, barely clinging to their battle-worn bodies. Yet their fists trembled, not with fear, but with sheer, overwhelming blood flow. Their knuckles swelled with power, veins bulging along their forearms. Reinforced Fist. Every single one of them use it.


    I straightened my fingers and beckoned them with a smirk. "Come on."


    In an instant, they sprinted forward, their feet pounding against the cobblestone in a synchronized rush. The air tensed. The first two reached me in seconds, throwing rapid punches, aiming to overwhelm me. I caught both their fists with open palms, absorbing the force effortlessly. The impact reverberated up my arms. Their expressions twisted in shock¡ªbefore my right fist shot forward.


    They flew backward, crashing into the well-maintained buildings lining the street. Their bodies cracked into the concrete, embedding deep into the walls. Dust rained down from the impact. My fist hissed as steam curled from my skin.


    I rolled my wrist, inspecting it as I exhaled. "The ambusher was the weakest one. You Royal Guard are worth my presence."


    Opening my right palm, I punched it hard, feeling the heat rise beneath my skin. The remaining guards took their chance, lunging at me from all angles. Their movements were aggressive, their hate for us in every knuckle. I stepped back, weaving through their strikes with ease. A fist grazed my ribs.


    Six punches later, I stopped. My fists pulsed, veins wrapping around my knuckles like cords of steel. My power was reaching the peak it could handle right now.


    I cocked my arm back, feeling the pressure coil like a tightened spring. "This will be your final fight."


    Then, I punched forward.


    The force erupted in a shockwave. A massive gust of wind howled through the street, slamming into the rebels like a tidal wave. The sheer pressure alone sent them sprawling, their bodies skidding across the ground. Their skin bruised on impact¡ªjust from the wind alone. It''s almost perfected.


    I tapped my subordinate on the shoulder, my voice flat. "Get some cleaners."


    A lone figure sat on a wooden chair outside a modest house, their posture relaxed, but their stare anything but. Their hood obscured most of their face, but I could feel their focus cutting through the air like a blade.


    I blitzed forward.


    The figure flinched, their chair creaking as they recoiled. I shoved my hands into my pockets, looming over them. "You have an intense stare. Curl your hood."


    Their fingers trembled as they reached up, slowly peeling the hood back. Long black hair spilled out, framing a face half-hidden behind glasses. A woman.


    I raised my fist instinctively. My mind flashed through possibilities¡ªspy, assassin, a hidden threat.


    Before I could act, she curled into a ball, her voice breaking. "Please don¡¯t hurt me!!"


    <hr>


    Endo lowered his fist, his voice cold and sharp. "Watch who you stare at next time. Tell everyone else that rebellion ends in suffering."


    Oh, no doubt it does. These people are suffocating under your grip, their hope crushed before it can even form.


    Endo turned away. Behind him, the cleaners moved in. The bodies¡ªsome groaning, others dead¡ªwere dragged off without ceremony. This was routine. Just another lesson taught through brutality. His confidence was absolute, and why wouldn¡¯t it be? His power was undeniable. Not even Kaiguro, with all his might, could summon wind gusts like those.


    But I see it now. You have a trick.


    You punched your right hand before attacking. Why? The answer is simple. You were storing power. Absorbing the force of your own blows, then unleashing it all in one devastating strike. A calculated burst, multiplying your strength sixfold. A powerful technique... but flawed.


    It isn¡¯t repeatable. A trump card with a three or less uses. That must be your ultimate move. Which means, when we raid the fort tonight, Vellin will know what to expect. Endo, you¡¯ve underestimated Sun. And more importantly, you¡¯ve underestimated the greatest spy in Sun.


    Me, Emma Tarren.

 Final

    "She''s back!" a guardsman yelled from the rickety watchtower, his voice cutting through the crisp evening air. The structure was barely more than a raised platform, hastily put together from logs and rope, but it served its purpose well enough. The encampment nestled within the thick forest, hidden beneath the shadows of towering pines.


    I trudged up the sloping hill, my boots pressing into the damp earth, the cold nipping at my exposed skin. The journey back from Trivoko had been long, nearly two miles of careful navigation through uneven terrain. A small clearing had provided just enough space to set up camp, and we kept it compact to avoid drawing unwanted attention. I spotted small pockets of snow clinging stubbornly to the ground, remnants of winter refusing to fade.


    A guardsman, clad in weathered armor, stepped forward as I approached, his posture tense with anticipation. "Did you accomplish your task?" he asked, his voice barely containing his eagerness.


    I reacted without hesitation, my hand striking his cheek with a sharp crack. "A mere guard has no right to question me. Did you forget I''m an officer?" My glare bore into him.


    He immediately bowed, his hands clenched at his sides. "I apologize," he said, his tone hurried. "I''m just excited for the raid tonight. I don''t want anything to go wrong."


    I stepped past him, allowing a smirk to cross my lips. "Save the excitement for then," I said, my voice laced with amusement. "you''ll be able to let loose."


    Three minutes later..


    The Serpent spoke, his voice smooth yet commanding. "Come in."


    I stepped forward, pushing aside the heavy flap of his tent. The space inside was far more lavish than the standard soldier¡¯s quarters¡ªlarger, with thick carpets covering the cold ground and a sturdy wooden table set off to the side. A brazier flickered in the corner, casting wavering shadows against the canvas walls. The scent of roasted meat lingered in the air.


    He sat on a plush couch, legs crossed casually, a plate of food balanced on his knee. His relaxed posture contrasted with the aura of quiet menace that always surrounded him. I stood straight, clasping my hands behind my back as I addressed him. "Sir, I''ve analyzed Endo''s fighting style."


    The Serpent barely paused in his eating. "Tell me about it."


    I took a measured breath before explaining. "His moniker, The Right-Handed Wraith, reveals more than you might think. He can use his left arm, but he only fights with his right. His martial arts style¡ªthe formal name, at least¡ªis unknown to me. But I¡¯d like to call it Force Absorption."


    The Serpent¡¯s gaze sharpened, interest flickering across his face. I continued, "He absorbs force through his right open palm and stores it. When he wishes, he releases all that energy in a single devastating burst. Against weaker opponents, this ability is probably meaningless. But when he fights the strong..." I paused, exhaling slowly. "He could easily take them out in one blow. The strong attack him, unaware that his palm has grown accustomed to high-level force, and then¡ªit¡¯s over."


    The Serpent leaned back, a smile playing at his lips. "Wow, sounds dangerous."


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "Yes, sir, it is." I replied. Deep down, unease twisted in my gut. I knew how strong Endo was... and yet...


    The Serpent continued smiling, his eyes gleaming. "It seems like I can finally test out what I''ve been learning."


    What?


    Five hours later..


    Me and my one hundred and sixteen men marched steadily up the steep hill toward Fort Nephrite. The towering fort loomed ahead, its stone walls weathered by years of battle.


    The enemy spotted us almost immediately. A harsh alarm rang through the air, a metallic clang that sent soldiers on the castle walls scrambling. They moved with urgency, dashing toward a small tower before emerging moments later, bows in hand. The moonlight glinted off the arrow tips as they notched them onto their strings. Black.


    I narrowed my eyes.


    Darksteel.


    I raised my voice, the command cutting through the night air. "That''s darksteel. It will kill you. Dodge it."


    A split second later, the archers released. The air whistled with the deadly barrage as the dark-tipped arrows sliced through the wind. I tilted my head slightly to the side, feeling one skim past my cheek before cracking my neck.


    "Anyone get hit?" I asked.


    A soldier from the back, one of the lower ranks, called out confidently, "You underestimate us, sir. We may be mere soldiers, but we''re Sun''s. The minimum speed requirement to join is a hundred meters per second. Only the strongest bows in existence surpass that speed."


    A laugh bubbled from my chest. "You''re so right. I''m sorry for underestimating you, soldier."


    The archers above began to hesitate, their hands no longer rushing for arrows. They had realized. None of us had been struck. That could only mean one thing¡ªwe were from Sun.


    I stepped forward, my voice commanding. "Stop! Officers, to me."


    At once, we halted a hundred feet from the fortified gate.


    Emma approached swiftly, handing me a loudspeaker. "Here, sir."


    I took it and raised it to my lips. My voice echoed across the battlefield. "Endo, come out already! We''re here to take this fort."


    For a moment, silence. Then, the slow groan of shifting iron filled the night as the fortress gates began to open. A shadow emerged, stepping forward.


    A man, my height, clad in a crisp black suit. His hair was just as dark, one singular strand swaying with the wind. His lips curled into a crazed smile, his eyes gleaming with barely restrained excitement.


    "You bastards want it?" His voice rang out like a challenge. "Come take it!"


    He punched his right palm, striking it in rapid succession. The air vibrated with power. Then, in an instant, he unleashed it.


    A gust unlike any I had seen before roared toward us, tearing through the ground with the force of a hurricane. Dust and debris surged forward like a tidal wave. My men braced themselves, raising their arms to shield against the onslaught.


    I stepped ahead of them. My right arm lifted, my fingers forming a spear hand. Then, with a swift downward motion, I sliced through the force, splitting it in half. The wind howled as it diverted to the sides, crashing into the soldiers stationed on the edges. They staggered back, some knocked off their feet.


    I let the loudspeaker fall to the dirt, my voice unwavering. "Endo, your abuse ends here."


    His smile twisted into something more intrigued. His sharp gaze studied me, and then, realization flickered across his face. He pointed at me.


    "You''re the Piercing Serpent, no wonder you could do that! Lucky bastard survives the assassination attempt and comes to me?! This is perfect!"


    One of his soldiers, eager and reckless, stepped forward. "Let me at him, sir!"


    Endo didn¡¯t even glance at him. He waved his hand dismissively. "No, he¡¯s mine." Then, turning slightly, he issued a curt command. "Send a carrier pigeon to Toda."


    His stance shifted. He dropped lower, his palm open, fingers relaxed yet ready. The air between us crackled with tension.


    "The Piercing Serpent will have his final fight!"


    I stepped forward, the energy surging through my body, my hands morphing into twin spears. My gaze locked onto his. "No, Endo," My sense of justice, clouded by joining Sun and growing accustomed to its evils, was lacking. The balled up emotions came out at once, "this will be your final night... alive!"

 Flow

    I crossed my spear hands, my muscles tensing as I prepared to strike. Piercing Hand Technique #6, Permeated Cross. With a sharp inhale, I dashed forward, the ground cracking beneath my feet from the force of my acceleration. Endo''s eyes widened¡ªa flicker of surprise in his usually impassive gaze. He reacted swiftly, raising his palm to intercept my strike, but he miscalculated. He had aimed for where he thought I would be, yet I had already shifted my trajectory ever so slightly.


    A split-second later, my twin spear hands carved through the air, slicing his chest in two diagonal lines. The impact sent a gust of wind spiraling outward, rustling the dirt and debris beneath us. His clothing split apart where my attack landed, revealing crimson lines welling up with blood. I expected the wounds to end the fight right then, to see him crumble under the force of my technique¡ªbut he barely faltered. His body was like tempered, his durability far greater than I had anticipated.


    A transcendent is different.


    His hand lashed out, a palm strike slamming into my left cheek with jarring force. A sharp sting flared across my face as my balance wavered, my vision shaking from the blow. The sheer power behind it wasn¡¯t normal. He had absorbed a portion of the wind force generated by my attack, redirecting it into his counter.


    A crushing kick struck the back of my Achilles heel, and my legs buckled instantly. Above me, Endo loomed, his right fist raised high, knuckles gleaming. He brought it down like a hammer, aiming to drive his strength into my jaw.


    Gritting my teeth, I reached down, fingers clawing through the damp earth. In a desperate move, I scooped up a handful of mud and flung it toward his face. His descending fist halted abruptly as he reflexively flinched, his focus momentarily broken. That was all the opening I needed.


    I lunged forward, spear hand striking for a quick, decisive stab. Endo recovered swiftly, snapping his right palm up to meet my attack. The moment my fingers touched his skin, he began. He shifted his weight, and in one fluid motion, balled his fist before swinging a brutal overhand strike directly into my shoulder.


    The impact sent a shockwave through my bones, driving me deeper into the dirt. I twisted my body and drove a solid punch into his midsection. A dull, meaty thud resounded, and he skidded backward, his feet dragging along the ground as he absorbed the blow.


    Seizing the opportunity, I leapt up, my body tensing in preparation for another strike. I primed my right arm, bringing it up to my cheek in a poised stance. Endo, now wary, raised his guard in anticipation. I saw his forearms shift ever so slightly, the muscles tensing¡ªready to block whatever came next.


    He wasn''t fast enough.


    I slashed across his forearms with a clean, fluid motion, my fingertips cutting deep. Blood splattered in sharp arcs, dripping from the fresh wounds.


    Endo frowned, his expression darkening as he brought up his right fist and slammed it into his open palm¡ªonce, twice, three times. His movements weren¡¯t just for show; his speed when executing that motion was far greater than anything he had displayed before. This wasn¡¯t random. This was a ritual, a movement ingrained into his body through years of repetition. A technique refined through endless practice.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    I started to lift my leg for a kick, instinct driving me to strike first¡ªbut I hesitated. A single misstep here, and I¡¯d leave myself completely exposed. No, attacking recklessly wasn¡¯t the answer. I needed to do something unpredictable.


    A gamble.


    A slow breath left my lips as I made my decision. Lowering my arms to my sides, I took a step forward. Then another. My posture relaxed, my guard completely dropped. I walked toward him with an almost casual stride, my body wide open to attack.


    Endo¡¯s brow twitched before a smirk crept across his face. Then, he barked out a laugh.


    ¡°Oh, is this a trap?! Your guard being down is a trap?!¡± His voice dripped with amusement, disbelief flashing in his eyes.


    I said nothing.


    His smirk widened.


    "Well, I ain''t gonna pass up a free hit, dumbass!"


    I slackened my jaw, letting the force of the punch flow through me rather than resist it. My body arced backward, flipping high into the air¡ªhigher than I should have been able to go. Fifty feet. Maybe more.


    From below, my army watched in stunned silence. Despair settled in their expressions as they assumed I had already lost. Their leader, struck down in a single blow.


    But amidst the sea of worried faces, one stood out¡ªEmma. She masked her expression well, but I caught it. A smile, barely hidden beneath her exterior. She knows.


    Gravity took hold, and I descended swiftly, landing in the middle of my ranks. My feet hit the dirt with force, cracking the ground beneath me in a small crater. A dull ache lingered in my jaw, but I ignored it. Rolling my neck, I checked myself over. Nothing broken. Nothing I couldn¡¯t endure.


    Endo stood across the battlefield, staring down at his fist. Steam curled from his knuckles, his brow furrowing in confusion.


    ¡°You did something.¡± he muttered. His fingers flexed, testing for sensation. ¡°It didn¡¯t hurt. It didn¡¯t even affect me... it only....¡±


    I finished for him. ¡°It only saved me from death, yes.¡±


    His eyes snapped to mine as I stepped forward, rejoining the front of my army. The weight of my presence steadied them.


    ¡°Endo,¡± I continued, my voice firm, ¡°you are slightly stronger and faster than me. Do you want to know why that is?¡±


    He scoffed, crossing his arms. ¡°Because I¡¯m better than you?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°No. It¡¯s because you¡¯re older.¡± I let the words settle before elaborating. ¡°Men reach their physical peak at twenty-three. I am twenty. You, however, are in your mid-twenties, I assume? You''re not young like me. That means you¡¯re already at your peak. And because we are transcended, that gap is even wider.¡±


    His expression remained unreadable, but I could see the gears turning in his head.


    ¡°I won¡¯t grow stronger overnight like I did before.¡± I admitted. ¡°I will grow slowly over the next three years. I can¡¯t rely on raw hardware alone. To compensate, I need technique. A basic understanding of Aikido¡¯s defensive principles should help me increase my endurance, no?¡±


    A small smirk tugged at the corner of Endo¡¯s mouth. He liked where this was going.


    ¡°Still,¡± I added, rolling my shoulder, ¡°your punches are powerful. I don¡¯t think I can take many more of those.¡±


    His smirk widened into a grin. ¡°Thanks for the explanation,¡± he said, cracking his knuckles. ¡°that just means I need to hit you a few more times.¡±


    In less than a thirtieth of a second, I had already closed the one hundred foot distance. My fist drove into his face with explosive force.


    ¡°That¡¯s the thing.¡± I murmured.


    Endo¡¯s body rocketed backward, smashing into the castle wall with a thunderous impact, debris crumbling around him.


    ¡°You won¡¯t.¡±

 Forthright

    "Argh, you brat! You distracted me with that little explanation of yours."


    With a grunt, he pushed himself free from the cracked stone, dust and pebbles scattering around him. His stance wavered for only a second before he steadied himself, muscles tensed and eyes locked onto mine. We met in the middle with a forceful clash of forearms.


    I launched a right punch, aiming straight for his jaw, but he intercepted it with his left palm, fingers clamping around my fist like a vice. His counterattack came swift¡ªa sharp elbow slicing toward my ribs. I twisted, but it still grazed across my chest, the heat of the impact flaring through my skin.


    I drove my knee into his stomach, feeling the hard resistance of muscle before he exhaled sharply from the hit. I used the momentum to flip, twisting midair and driving my heel into the back of his head. His body jerked forward.


    Planting his hands on the ground, he twisted his body and swung his left heel toward me in a blur. I barely raised my arm in time, the impact rattling through my bones as I blocked it. Seizing my opening, I shot out a kick toward his left wrist. He grunted as my foot connected, forcing him into a roll to regain balance.


    I sprinted after him, every muscle coiling for the next strike. The moment he landed, I was already airborne, leg raised high, ready to drive him straight into the ground.


    I fired.


    His hand clamped around my ankle like an iron shackle, stopping my kick mid-motion. My eyes widened as he cocked his arm back, his knuckles tight and ready to drive through me like a hammer.


    Then¡ªimpact.


    A crushing fist slammed into my stomach. Pain exploded through my core, and a choked gasp forced its way out of my throat. Blood splattered from my lips as my breath was stolen from my lungs. I barely managed to twist my body, using Aikido¡¯s momentum redirection to keep myself from being pummeled further.


    I threw a left punch. He threw a right.


    Our fists connected at the same time, smashing into each other¡¯s cheeks. The force sent our heads snapping sideways, our jaws aching from the impact. A metallic taste flooded my mouth, and I spat out a thick glob of blood. He did the same, crimson splattering onto the grass between us.


    Neither of us hesitated. We swung again, this time using our opposite arms. Our knuckles crashed into each other¡¯s faces, the collision sending another wave of pain through our skulls. Our heads bobbed in opposite directions, whiplash rattling through our necks.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    I held back. I didn¡¯t use Piercing Hand¡ªfor the time being. I needed him to think I was just trading blunt blows, to lull him into a false sense of security that he could absorb my blows easily. The brief standstill in our movement was my chance.


    I straightened my middle finger.


    With a sharp thrust, I drove it forward, piercing into his stomach like a dagger.


    His scream tore through the air as my finger punctured flesh, slipping past the outer layers and stopping just short of something vital. I felt it¡ªa sickening, pulsing sensation against my fingertip. The intestine. I hadn¡¯t punctured it, but I was damn close.


    I must capitalize on this!


    I twisted my finger inside the wound, grinding against raw flesh to send waves of agony through his body. His muscles tensed, his breath hitched¡ªthen his fist crashed into my face.


    Once. Twice. Three times.


    Each blow came faster than the last, his movements fueled by a desperate surge of adrenaline. My head rocked back. He didn¡¯t stop. His fingers clamped around my arm veins bulging as he tightened his grip. With a grimace, he twisted his body and hurled me toward the castle wall. The wind howled past my ears as I flew through the air. But I adjusted mid-flight, twisting just in time to plant my feet against the cold stone. The impact rattled through my legs, but I bent my knees, absorbing the shock.


    I launched back at him like a coiled spring.


    I expected him to react defensively, to brace himself for impact. But no¡ªhe did the opposite.


    He ducked.


    His right fist rocketed upward, aiming straight for my face.


    With my momentum already propelling me forward and the sheer force of his strike closing the distance, I had seconds¡ªno, fractions of a second¡ªto react.


    I called upon Aikido once more.


    I shifted with the flow of his force, redirecting just enough to avoid a direct skull-shattering impact. Still, the sheer power of the near-hit sent a brutal shockwave through my body. Pain exploded across my jaw and skull, a deep, rattling ache that threatened to black out my vision.


    I survived.


    I spun with the momentum, dropping toward the ground to regain my stance, only for his foot to slam into my ribs. I dug my fingers into the dirt, grinding my body to a halt. My breath came in ragged gasps as I crouched low.


    At this point, we had torn each other apart. Blood dripped from open wounds, bruises bloomed across our bodies, and most of me ached. The world is much larger than I imagined. Of all the opponents I had faced, he was the strongest. No contest.


    A shard of glass fell from his frames, clinking against the ground. The exposed eye beneath it burned red.


    He raised his hand. My body tensed. He¡¯s calling his army!


    I shouted, "Are you sure?"


    His expression twisted with frustration. His hand lingered in the air for a moment before, with a deep scowl, he let it drop to his side. His nostrils flared, his chest heaved, but he stayed put.


    Then, without a word, he opened his right palm.


    And punched into it. Once. Twice.


    Again.


    Again.


    Twenty times.


    His entire arm trembled under the sheer force of his own blows, veins bulging, muscles tensing to the brink of rupture¡ªyet it held. He held.


    We both stood there, breathless, bodies screaming in agony, yet neither willing to collapse first.


    One of us is going to die.

 Finish

    The aura emanating from his fist is immense, a suffocating force that warps the air around it. It crackles with an intensity that activates my instincts, screaming at me to retreat¡ªeven though I know I can¡¯t. My body tenses involuntarily, every muscle locking up as if trying to brace for the impact that hasn¡¯t even come yet. It¡¯s frightening me to my core, despite having faced strong, even monster-like fighters before.


    That single attack is an equalizer, a technique so devastating that it doesn''t just threaten to incapacitate¡ªit ensures destruction. The sheer pressure it exerts is enough to make my breath hitch, my heartbeat thudding like a war drum in my ears. One wrong move, one moment of hesitation, and I¡¯ll be the one left broken on the ground.


    I must not give him an opening.


    I punched him downward, slamming his head toward the floor with enough force to rattle his entire frame. His body jerked from the impact, but before he could even register the pain, I launched an uppercut that sent him ragdolling into the air. His limbs flailed helplessly before his feet barely found the ground¡ªonly for me to drive my knee into his stomach. Thrice.


    Each strike landed, forcing the air from his lungs in short, pained exhales. He still didn¡¯t go down. Frustration burned in my veins. I wrenched him into a clinch, locking his head in place before ramming my knee straight into his face.


    As soon as his head snapped back, I surged forward and cracked my forehead against his in a vicious headbutt. A sharp jolt of pain shot through my skull, but I bit down on it, using the moment to twist my body and slam my elbow across his jaw. The impact sent shockwaves through my arm, and I followed up immediately, striking from the other side with just as much force.


    How are you still alive!? Is my ''hardware'' just that far behind? Or are all transcended fighters this tough?!


    My breath came in short, heated bursts, my muscles coiled with tension. My mind screamed for a decisive blow, and I knew exactly what I needed. Piercing Hand.


    The problem was clear¡ªevery single one of those techniques, every movement I had just executed, was faster than Piercing Hand. If I committed to it and missed, I would die.


    Then, I must¡­


    I dashed back, the force of my retreat kicking up dust beneath my feet as I circled him at maximum speed. My steps were light yet rapid, weaving around him. He didn¡¯t react. He simply stood there, his fist tucked near his waist.


    I just needed one opening. Just one.


    I sidestepped, feinting to the left, then to the right, testing his reactions. Still, he remained motionless, his gaze locked onto me with an unsettling stillness. Then, in an instant, I slid forward.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    His fist shot out.


    There was no gust of wind, no shockwave tearing through the air¡ªhe was saving everything for the moment of impact. The instant it connected, he wanted me obliterated.


    The punch closed in, only inches from my chest.


    At the last possible moment, I twisted. My body turned sharply, ducking under his blow by mere hairs, the force of it brushing past my back like a passing death sentence. My left shoulder tensed as I curled inward¡ªthen pierced through my own flesh with a decisive thrust.


    Agony flared through my nerves, but my hand didn¡¯t stop. It drove through muscle, past bone, and into the one thing that mattered¡ªhis heart.


    A wet, sickening squelch filled the space between us as blood surged over my hand, engulfing it in warmth. Endo¡¯s body trembled, his breath hitching¡ªand the true devastation of his final attack unfolded.


    The sheer power behind his blow, even when missing its mark, was felt by my army.


    The air itself seemed to rupture as the shockwave exploded outward. Half my army¡ªspread far and wide¡ªwas blown away in an instant, bodies flung like ragdolls as the ground cracked beneath them. The force of it rattled my bones, my vision blurring as the pain in my shoulder pulsed through every fiber of my being.


    This was the final technique of Piercing Hand. Technique #7: Death¡¯s Embrace.


    A move that demanded the ultimate sacrifice¡ªyou either left your back open, or turned and pierced through your own shoulder to end the fight. You were supposed to avoid your tendons, to ensure survival.


    I didn¡¯t. I''m not perfect. I needed medical attention.


    A violent cough wracked my body, and blood spilled from my lips. My vision swayed, the world around me tilting as my strength threatened to give out. Endo went limp in my grasp, his weight dragging against me as life faded from his body.


    I clenched my teeth, forcing my voice out through the pain. "Emma! Recover me and take the fort!"


    The officers sprang into action. Endo¡¯s lifeless form was dragged away, his body carried off the battlefield, while strong hands pulled me behind the main line. My body felt weightless, as if I were floating.


    The eager soldier who had wanted to rush at me before now raised his hands in surrender. "We surrender!" His voice carried desperation, yet also a strange relief, as if he had been waiting for this moment. He moved to the gate, unbolted it, and swung it open. Inside, a pile of discarded weapons littered the ground. One by one, men stepped forward, their faces grim but resigned, tearing off the black mineral symbol from their uniforms.


    "Endo was our leader," one of them spoke, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "since he''s gone, we have nothing else to look forward to. We stand no chance. Let us leave and bury him."


    I opened my mouth, about to agree¡ªafter all, this battle was over¡ªbut before I could speak...


    "Don''t you dare!"


    A young, well-built man strode forward, his blonde hair catching the light as he emerged from the direction of Trivoko. His presence alone carried an undeniable weight, his stance firm, his eyes burning with emotion.


    Who is this?


    Emma''s voice was low, almost wary as she answered. "That''s... Zhen Lithberg. The prodigal son of the former rulers."


    Zhen¡¯s piercing gaze locked onto me. "You saved Trivoko, and I thank you!" His voice was strong, filled with both gratitude and something darker¡ªanger, grief, justice left unfulfilled. "But please, please don''t forget the suffering that occurred here, and punish them to death! As they have so many of my friends!"

 Rise

    Confused, unsure¡ªthose emotions coursed through me like a storm, unsettling in their weight. I had killed before. Dozens total. I never hesitated. Never second-guessed myself. It was always clear: kill or be killed. But this was different.


    The men before us weren¡¯t outnumbered. They weren¡¯t weak. Yet, their will to fight had crumbled, shattered by something deeper than fear. They weren¡¯t resisting. They weren¡¯t even pleading. They just stood there, eyes hollow. They had loved Endo, that much was clear. His death had stolen their purpose, for now. And now, all they wanted was to leave. I swallowed hard, my fingers twitching. Killing more than a hundred men at once¡ªunarmed, demoralized men¡ªwas that something I could live with? Could I justify it when they were so far removed from their main force? It felt like an execution, not a battle.


    Zhen¡¯s voice cut through my hesitation like a knife. "Screw this! If you don¡¯t do it, I will!" His frustration was palpable, his stance rigid with barely contained aggression.


    I turned to Emma, hoping for some clarity, some reason to justify this. "What do we do?" I asked.


    She frowned as if the answer should have been obvious. "They''re enemy combatants that we cannot control," she said plainly. "they''re the others to us. I say we just do as Zhen wants, sir. It helps us both." Her words were clinical, detached. She saw no shades of gray, no weight to the decision. Just logic. Just survival. Like most in Sun.


    I looked back at the defeated soldiers, my grip tightening. They were the enemy. They had done terrible things. Evil bastards through and through.


    Two men broke from the group, their boots pounding against the dirt as they sprinted for the treeline, desperation fueling their escape. They barely made it a few strides before Zhen intercepted them with brutal efficiency. Using both arms, he swung forward, his sheer force clotheslining them mid-run. Their bodies snapped backward, hitting the ground with sickening thuds. Neither moved.


    "Don''t even try!" Zhen roared, his voice filled with finality.


    I clenched my jaw. As strong as an officer. Even now, my mind instinctively analyzed his strength. Was this really the time to be thinking like that?


    I forced my thoughts back to the situation at hand. "Detain these men!" I commanded, my voice sharp, cutting through the tension. "We will allow the city of Trivoko to punish them!" Zhen smiled at that idea. The soldiers immediately moved to follow my orders. They began rounding up the remaining enemy combatants, forcing them into lines before shoving them down onto their knees. None of them resisted. None except one.


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    One of my men moved in, kicking the enemy in the knee to force him down. The man didn¡¯t budge. He stood firm, unfazed, his body eerily relaxed.


    Then, with a lazy demeanor, he lifted a hand and lightly tapped my soldier on the head.


    My soldier collapsed.


    Every soldier snapped to attention, fists or blades raised.


    Before anyone could react, the enemy moved.


    He weaved between the soldiers like a ghost, his body zigzagging effortlessly through their attempts to stop him. Two more men lunged to intercept, but he slipped past them with ease, his movements fluid, unbothered. His hands remained in his pockets the entire time.


    He''s at Endo''s level¡ªno... above!


    His speed was unreal. And me? I was in no condition to fight. I was easy pickings.


    He yawned, stretching his neck lazily. "I guess I am lazy."


    My stomach twisted in recognition. Him. The fourth-ranked of Obsidian. Leo had warned me¡ªnever fight him.


    Haet Leacett. The Lazy Roach.


    Emma reacted first. With a sharp motion, she lashed out, her hand grasping Haet¡¯s wrist in an attempt to stop him. But the moment she made contact, she froze¡ªher body shuddered as if an unseen force had slammed down on her shoulders.


    She dropped, collapsing as if crushed beneath an unbearable weight. Haet sighed, barely sparing her a glance before kicking her away like discarded trash. I yelled, "You bastard!" She tumbled across the ground. Emma is strong, strong enough to lead a Major Clan. A transcendent, however, can single handedly wipe multiple Major Clans from the map.


    My soldiers scrambled toward me, but they were too slow. Some were still struggling to control the prisoners, while others hesitated, realizing the shift in battle.


    Haet¡¯s voice rang out, sharp and taunting. "Don''t you want revenge for Endo?! Do your job as a representative of Obsidian!"


    He reached for my throat. My body refused to move. My limbs felt like lead. My breath came in short, ragged gasps. The enemy soldiers¡ªonce subdued, once defeated¡ªbegan to rise. Their empty eyes now burned with renewed purpose. A second, this time, all-out battle was about to break out. At least half of my men would die.


    A blur shot past my vision. A furious cry rang out.


    Zhen.


    He launched himself from the side, his body an unrelenting force. "Get away from the savior!" he roared, his foot smashing into Haet¡¯s outstretched hand.


    Haet barely reacted, and he withdrew his hand.


    Zhen stood between us, his stance unshaken. His fists clenched. His eyes burned with fury. "I want revenge!" he bellowed.


    Haet glanced down at his hand, flexing his fingers experimentally. A faint redness swelled across his knuckles, the first sign of injury he had taken so far. His eyes narrowed¡ªnot in pain, but in mild curiosity. It piqued my curiosity too, since Zhen wasn''t transcendent. Zhen and Emma were near equals, but Zhen did more than Emma in mere seconds.


    I forced myself upright. I could barely stand, my posture hunched. I must watch this. Something is nagging at me, a premonition. A premonition of an ascension.


    An ascension to transcendence.


    Zhen exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders. Then, slowly, he spread both hands wide. His fingers curled inward like claws.


    "It starts with you."

 Retreat

    I yawned again, stretching my jaw lazily as if I wasn¡¯t in the middle of a fight. "Overthrowing you Lithbergs was Endo''s idea, you know? I was fine with having your family act as puppets." My tone was casual. I took a single, deliberate step to the left.


    Zhen lunged forward in a blur, his fingers curled into claws, swiping right past my chest. I felt the air split open in the narrow space between us, the sheer force of his strike tugging at my shirt. Without flinching, I slammed my fist downward, driving it into the ground with a resounding crack that sent a shallow quake through the dirt.


    He twisted his torso mid-motion with an unnatural fluidity, narrowly avoiding my counter. Before I could realign, he sprang upward, clawing toward my chin.


    Reflexively, I tilted my head back and gazed skyward, letting the attack pass inches beneath my jaw. The sky stretched above us in a canvas of swirling clouds and soft blues¡ªstrangely serene. So beautiful, I thought absently, even as the faint sting of his wind current brushed my throat. Those fingernails are sharp.


    I let out a breath and slid my hands into my pockets. With a sharp snap of my leg, I drove my foot into his chest and kicked him backward. He flew a few feet before skidding roughly across the dry earth, his heels carving lines into the ground as dust plumed around him.


    Even then, he never took his eyes off me. Sharp. Calculated. Controlled.


    I cocked my head and asked, "Hey. How''d you get so strong?"


    Zhen Lithberg, the heir to the Crushing Palm technique, was supposed to be non-transcendent. Still grounded in the realm of ordinary martial prowess. But the way he moved, the power behind his attacks¡ªit was different now.


    Something was changing.


    Zhen Lithberg... he''s nearing that threshold.


    I blitzed forward, the world narrowing to a tunnel of motion. In that instant, I easily eclipsed his senses¡ªhis eyes widened, but far too late to react. My right palm swung outward to the left, my left to the right, a crisscross of motion that carved through the air.


    I struck. My right hand slapped sharply beneath his chin, snapping his head back, while my left slammed into his liver with a heavy thud that forced the breath from his lungs. His body folded and twisted midair before collapsing onto his side.


    Without hesitation, I raised my foot and stomped his head into the ground. The impact was brutal¡ªblood sprayed out from beneath his temple, the earth beneath his skull dimpling with the force. I stomped again, the wet crack under my heel assuring me the damage was real.


    I wasn¡¯t taking chances.


    I raised my foot for a third time¡ªand this time, he caught my heel.


    His fingers locked around my boot, trembling with effort. Through grit teeth, he growled, "Now you''re pissing me off!"


    He yanked downward, trying to unbalance me, but I reacted faster. Using only the big toe of my left foot, I jabbed at his hand and dislocated his thumb with a sickening pop. He shouted in pain, and I took that moment to leap backward, creating distance between us.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    He didn¡¯t give me much.


    In one fluid spin, he kicked up from the ground and chased after me, feet pounding the dirt, claws gleaming with blood. His right arm extended, the fingers of his clawed hand splayed wide¡ªand they grasped the front of my shirt like a hawk snagging prey.


    Fabric tore with ease. He closed his palm and shredded my jacket clean off, threads fluttering around us like falling ash. He struck again, and this time I caught his arm mid-swipe. I twisted my grip to throw him off balance, but he adapted on the fly, his body following mine like shadow on skin.


    We were suspended in midair for half a breath¡ªenough time for him to rake his fingers across the left side of my neck.


    A line of fire bloomed under my skin. He missed the artery¡ªbarely¡ªbut the pain surged bright and hot, a warning flare flashing through my nerves.


    This is becoming too troublesome. He''s already transcended.


    I surged forward, unleashing a barrage of rapid-fire punches into his sternum. My fists hammered against his chest like drumbeats, fast and relentless¡ªbut it was for naught. I could feel it¡ªhe was already adapting, his body learning the rhythm of my attack output. Every strike landed with less impact than the one before. He was almost done evolving, shrugging off what should have incapacitated him.


    So I stopped resisting. I opened myself¡ªmy stance, my chest, my entire being¡ªto whatever he wished to inflict. He didn¡¯t hesitate. His fingers drove into my chest like spears, breaking through skin and scraping bone. Before he could close his palm and end the fight in one brutal motion, I moved.


    I grasped his neck with both hands¡ªtight, firm, inescapable. His eyes flashed, and he instantly pulled his hand from my chest. He thrashed, trying to shake free, clawing at my arms.


    It''s my favorite part.


    I bent my wrist and twisted hard¡ªsnap. A sharp crack echoed into the night as his neck broke cleanly under my grip. His head flopped backward unnaturally, chin pointing skyward. His gaze locked on the stars above, just as mine had moments earlier.


    I asked, "Do you see the stars?"


    He gurgled in response, blood and spit bubbling from his lips, and I dropped him like dead weight. His body hit the ground with a dull thud, spine twisted, limbs splayed in defeat.


    I turned to face Vellin¡ªthe Serpent, or whatever he liked called himself now¡ªand stated, "Your turn."


    As I took my first step over Zhen''s body, something latched onto me.


    No!


    Zhen''s hand shot up and grasped my knee. His fingers locked in with monstrous strength, and then they tore¡ªthrough muscle, through skin, through bone. The pain wasn¡¯t even a scream; it was a blackout. I immediately lost all sensation in my left leg, and my body collapsed beside him, forced down by agony.


    I hit the dirt hard, gasping, teeth clenched. My eyes darted toward the soldiers¡ªscanning for signs of backup, any familiar face. But there was nothing. They were all down. I recognized every single corpse.


    They had taken care of most of the force, at least. That part, they made easy for me.


    Then¡ªsharp pain. Something pierced through my back, jagged and cold, slithering through nerves like fire.


    A knife?!


    A woman''s voice, confident and cruel, quipped from behind me, "Darksteel, the best thing to kill ''transcendents'' like you."


    Is it that bitch in the red?! She tore through my shoulder!


    Argh! Focus!


    As I assessed the damage, more soldiers began to surround me, circling like vultures sensing the end.


    I can''t be bothered! I''ll just return to Toda!


    In the next breath, I disappeared from their sight. Shadows swallowed me whole as I reappeared at the edge of the treeline, cloaked in distance and dark. Every step throbbed with agony, my left leg barely obeying commands. Fire licked up through torn muscle and shattered bone, but I pushed forward anyway. I had to. If I stayed, I¡¯d die here.


    Leaves slapped against my face as I shoved past branches, the forest groaning around me. My breath came ragged, my blood a trail behind me.


    I yelled into the clearing behind me, voice raw but defiant, "Consider yourself lucky, Serpent! That bastard saved you!" My vision swam. Blood was dripping faster now¡ªthick, hot streams soaking through the remnants of my clothing. If I wasted even a second more, they¡¯d follow. They¡¯d catch me. So for now, I''ll leave them.


    "I''ll see you when we start our offensive."

 Betide

    I sat down at the bar seat, getting comfortable. The cushion was slightly worn, the leather cracked from years of use, but familiar in a way that made it feel like home. The air inside the tavern was thick with warmth and laughter, the kind that only came after long months of fear and tension finally being released. Light jazz hummed low from our city''s main singer, and the scent of citrus cleaner mixed with aged whiskey drifted through the air.


    The bartender smiled when he saw me, as I was a regular. His name was Koan, an older man with silver streaks in his black hair and hands that moved like clockwork behind the counter. Well, everyone wore smiles right now. The news had spread like wildfire, and the bar buzzed with excitement.


    I raised a few of my fingers, "Get me that Jack Rose, boss."


    He nodded, "Coming right up."


    He bent over to the mixers and drinks, grabbing the applejack and grenadine, his motions quick and practiced. As he poured, the bottles clinked softly, blending into the ambient chatter and clatter of the bar.


    I turned around to the mingling center of the bar, where you could play darts or checkers. There were some more, but that''s what I played. The dartboard had seen better days, its edges frayed and the center peppered with holes. The checkerboard tables, carved into the wood, were surrounded by players laughing and throwing casual insults.


    Huck came smashing through, raising his hand high, "It''s true?! We''re free?!"


    I laughed, the sound bubbling out before I could stop it. His energy was contagious. "Were you sleeping all day? Yeah, man! Sun freed us!"


    He looked skeptical, and walked over, taking a seat next to me. His clothes were rumpled, and his eyes still held a glaze of disbelief.


    He asked, "Sun? Those guys? They''re only marginally better than Obsidian."


    That''s true. They were known for doing some pretty evil things too. Their warriors were feared and ruthless, lacking empathy. But, the Serpent, he''s different... I can tell.


    I said, "The Serpent was the one that saved us, the new Flame. He''s better than those other ones." I continued, "I even heard he was angry, like it wasn''t just business for him. He cared for our plight."


    The bartender came by, and dropped off my drink in a chilled glass, the deep rose color of it catching the overhead lights beautifully.


    I said, "Thanks, my man. Get the same for Huck over here."


    Huck smiled, the suspicion on his face softening, "Well, he''s our savior at the end of the day."


    I took a drink. The tang of citrus and the mellow burn of the liquor hit just right. I let the taste sit on my tongue for a moment, then swallowed. "Zhen nearly died trying to protect him. It''s said he transcended."


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    He looked confused, "Transcended?"


    I only know this because my dad was a martial artist. He had trained for years, and often spoke of the final stage he could never achieve with both fear and awe.


    I explained, "Yeah, transcended. For fighters, it''s the last stage of your journey. He''s so strong now he''s on par with the Serpent and those other guys."


    He frowned, lines deepening on his brow. "I feel sort of bad... he... might die you know. The Lithbergs have always helped Trivoko, and now they might lose their son, after losing their father when Endo came a couple months back."


    Huck''s drink came, and I raised my glass, the ice clinking gently against the sides.


    "Then let us pray for their recovery then, friend."


    We touched glass, and took a drink, the moment shared between us like a quiet pact.


    <hr>


    "This hospital food sucks," I said, laying down on the stiff mattress, its springs pressing awkwardly into my back through the too-thin padding. The ceiling above me was an unchanging white, with sunlight and lamps illuminated the room. I poked at the bland tray of overcooked rice and grayish meat they¡¯d brought in earlier and grimaced.


    They gave me the same drugs as Caleb had, and I could tell it was working¡ªmy breathing came easier, and the weight in my chest lightened more each hour. That, on top of my blessed body, had me recovering faster than I thought I would.


    Emma laid down on the narrow couch near the wall, the faux leather creaking under her as she shifted to get comfortable.


    I said, "Well, at least the mission was sort of successful."


    Emma sighed, brushing her hair back and staring at the ceiling. "It was, but many men died. They were mere foot soldiers, but they had souls." Her voice was heavy with something deeper than simple fatigue¡ªguilt, maybe.


    I asked, "Haven''t you been in Sun a while? Shouldn''t you be used to this?"


    I didn''t understand at the time, but this was a rude question.


    She snapped, her voice sharp and raw, "No! Sun doesn''t ''lose'' like this! Every time Sun is dispatched, it''s a sweep for us! The only reason they''re dead is because Obsidian can''t live with the fact they''re number two. Fucking bastards... sir."


    I took a bite of the apple on my table, its skin crisp and sweet, the juice trickling over my lip. "I see. Guess this is because I''m new."


    She said aloud, more to the ceiling than to me, "I miss Caleb..."


    I agreed quietly, "I do too." A silence settled over us before I added, "Hey, you really like Caleb, don''t you?"


    She blushed, but unlike Jane¡¯s¡ªthe kind of blush that felt like a secret slipping out against her will¡ªthis one was quiet, more wistful than flustered. "No. He''s... sort of like a big brother to me. He protects me always."


    I breathed heavily, feeling the weight of everything beginning to settle again. "Well, since this mission was successful, we''ll go home soon, gather some forces to hold this place down, and you''ll return to him."


    She shook her head, "Not yet."


    What?


    She continued, her voice soft but sure, "I could choose where I want to go. Although I am missing him more than expected, I want to stay here."


    I took another bite, chewing slowly. "And why''s that?"


    She explained, "Do you realize how popular you are? All of Grand Sasebella''s nobility wants to marry their daughters to you. You''re a rising young star. I can''t say I''m not attracted to that."


    I shook my head, the taste of apple turning bitter on my tongue. "I don''t agree with the existence of arranged marriages, and I like Jane anyways."


    Emma commentated, almost casually, "Only a few in Sun are loyal, romantically. For now, continue to recover, and we will head back for your next mission."


    She leaned forward and gently kissed my hand as if I were royalty, a playful glint in her eye. "A healing kiss."