The sky had barely begun to shift from deep indigo to the burnt gold of morning when we arrived at the Arena of Ancestral Blood.
The old battleground was carved into the heart of the canyon, its stone foundations worn smooth from centuries of combat. Massive totem pillars surrounded the ring, each depicting a legendary warrior of the tribe, their snarling faces captured in ferocious mid-roar. Thick banners of war, woven from the dyed furs of fallen chieftains, hung over the seating areas where the villagers gathered.
Despite its grand appearance, I could still sll the bloodstains. This was no ceremonial space.
At the center, the fighting pit itself was a wide-open space, thirty ters across, with white sand covering the stone beneath. The grains were sacred, mixed with the ashes of countless warriors who perished in battle.
Across from , Lak Hok stood tall, spear in hand.
He wasn't trembling. If anything, the air around him humd with steady resolve.
Behind , Jas was the only one present.
The chief stood above us, perched atop a ceremonial throne carved from the skull of a fallen Sand Drake. His presence alone was enough to hush the murmuring crowd.
And then, the old rabbit-wolf spoke.
"This is a battle of honor," the chief declared, his voice carrying across the arena like the whisper of a coming storm. "By the traditions of our ancestors, three laws bind you."
He raised one hand, his fur bristling.
"One—no killing. We are too few to lose even one more of our own."
"Two—no deception. Trickery is an insult to battle, and an insult to our gods."
Then, he hesitated before the third rule. His eyes flickered toward .
I smirked. I knew what was coming.
"…And three," he continued, "we pray that the God-Beast does not take offense to anything said or done here."
Translation? Please don't wipe out the village.
I let out a short, sharp laugh, crossing my arms. "Old man, if I wanted to kill you all, I wouldn't waste ti with speeches."
The chief's ears flattened slightly, but he nodded.
He lifted a hand. "Begin."
BOOM.
Runes ignited around the edges of the arena, creating a crimson do of pure energy. A barrier?
I activated [Analyze].
[Barrier of the Ancient]
[Type: Defensive, Containnt]
[Crafted by a Master Barrier Magi-Technician. Can withstand multiple peak second-stage attacks.]
Interesting. A barrier of this caliber? Here?
Lak Hok exhaled sharply, his prana bursting to life. The effect was imdiate—his skin darkened to ember-red, veins glowing like molten cracks, while the tribal tattoos around his eyes flared with power.
Then, he spoke. "This is our way."
I tilted my head.
"Unlike humans, who waste their essence in fire and flash…" His grip on his spear tightened. "…We use it within."
Ah. I see now.
Lak Hok's aura didn't explode outward—it imploded.
Rather than flaring with external force, it condensed, pulling itself tightly within his body. His breathing slowed, his muscles hardened, and his speed doubled.
No wasted power.
Fine then. Let's see how your refinent matches up against .
Lak Hok vanished—
And then reappeared right in front of .
His spear pierced forward like a cot, carrying enough force to turn a boulder into dust.
I lifted a single finger.
[Advanced Psychic].
SCREEEEECH!
The spear stopped mid-air.
Lak Hok's eyes widened in shock. "What?!"
I flicked my wrist.
BOOM!
The psychic force sent him flying backward, skidding across the arena floor. He rolled and landed in a crouch, gasping for breath.
The crowd held their breath.
I yawned. "You call that condensed power?"
Lak Hok gritted his teeth and attacked again.
Left feint—right slash—sudden downward smash.
Effortless.
Each attack was parried, my psychic shield flowing like an invisible current, repelling his every movent. His strikes beca wilder, more desperate.
Still, I barely had to move.
Lak Hok panted, his prana flickering, sweat rolling down his face.
I rolled my shoulders.
"…That's it?"
I yawned. "You call that condensed power?"
Lak Hok gritted his teeth and charged again.
Left feint—right slash—sudden downward smash.
Effortless.
His spear strikes ca fast, but I saw through them all. My psychic barrier rippled like a flowing river, parting against every attack, redirecting them with nothing but minor shifts in my energy.
Lak Hok twisted his body, following up with a reverse grip stab, aiming straight for my ribs. His footwork was flawless, the transition between attack and defense nearly seamless.
Impressive.
He didn't waste movent. Each attack was precisely asured, maximizing the spear's length advantage while keeping himself out of reach.
Not that it mattered.
I simply stepped a few inches to the left, my psychic aura pushing against the spearhead just enough to shift its trajectory, causing it to skim past my skin.
Lak Hok gritted his teeth. He shifted tactics.
Close the distance.
The air crackled as he suddenly twisted his body, abandoning his spear strike mid-movent and instead throwing a full-body elbow at my temple. His control over montum was admirable. He used the flow of his own attack to feint into brutal close-combat techniques, not giving ti to counter.
I let it hit.
THWACK!
His elbow slamd against my head.
…It felt like a firm tap on my skull.
Lak Hok staggered back, pain flashing through his expression. He might as well have struck a mountain.
I finally smiled.
"You're pretty good, for a pup."
His pupils dilated.
I could feel it—the mix of panic and realization. No matter how much power he put behind his attacks, no matter how fast he moved, I wasn't even trying.
Across the ring, the chief watched with narrowed eyes, his arms folded. His thoughts were silent, but his gaze spoke volus.
He had seen Lak Hok fight countless tis before. He had trained him. He had watched him grow from a reckless child to the strongest warrior of their generation.
And yet—this fight was a slaughter.
The chief's clawed fingers tightened against the bone-carved armrest of his throne.
Lak Hok is a genius, the chief thought.
Among all the young warriors in their history, none had mastered Inner Prana as quickly as he had.
Most warriors refined their prana outside their body, drawing it inwards to cycle through their core. The more cycles they completed, the stronger their bodies beca.
The best warriors could perform five cycles by the age of thirty.
Lak Hok, barely twenty-four, had already achieved five cycles.
The chief himself—once considered a prodigy of his generation—had only been able to refine it three tis at Lak Hok's age.
But this monster, this God-Beast, was treating that power like it was nothing.
Even after limiting himself…
The realization struck like a heavy drum in the chief's chest.
Arthur wasn't just strong. He was beyond comprehension.
And he was still holding back.
Lak Hok's eyes narrowed. "I guess there's no point in fighting a prolonged battle against you." Then—his entire body went still.
The tattoos on his face glowed brighter. "If you are a god-beast, I dare you not to dodge this."
Lak Hok stopped attacking. His aura didn't flicker—it vanished entirely.
Instead of flowing through his body, his prana condensed entirely into his spear.
The weapon began to shine red-hot, the runes inscribed along its shaft igniting like molten fire.
A hush fell over the arena.
Lak Hok's hand trembled as he lifted his weapon.
I just smiled. And then, I saw it.
Ahhh. There it is.
Instead of his prana spreading evenly throughout his body, he condensed it all into his spear. The weapon shone red-hot, runes inscribed along its shaft igniting like flas.
The crowd gasped.
Lak Hok raised his weapon. "This is my tribe's final art. The culmination of a century's worth of refinent."
I raised an eyebrow.
Then—
He threw the spear.
The air howled, space distorted, the weapon accelerating faster than should have been possible.
I lifted my hand. [Advanced Psychic.]
The spear pierced through it instantly.
My eyes widened slightly.
BOOOOOM!
A blazing red explosion engulfed .
Lak Hok dropped to one knee, drenched in sweat, his vision swimming from exhaustion.
The chief watched with bated breath.
The crowd murmured.
Then—
The smoke cleared.
I stood there, completely unhard, holding the spear between two fingers.
I smirked.
"Interesting."
Lak Hok's entire body stiffened.
I twirled the spear. "Your people's ultimate technique… it doesn't just strengthen weapons."
My third eye flickered.
"You rewrote its very concept." I ran my thumb along the weapon's shaft, tracing the faint essence trails. "Gave it the pure concept of [Penetration]. No wonder my psychic defenses couldn't stop it. How superb."
I spun the spear one last ti before tossing it aside like a toy. "If only I was truly at the first stage, or even the second stage, then you would have hurt ."
I looked straight into Lak Hok's unbelieving eyes. "Unfortunately for you, I'm a Demi-God."
Lak Hok collapsed, whispering a single word.
"Mon…ster…"
Silence.
The chief exhaled shakily, then raised his hand. "The winner—God-Beast Arthur."
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Jas sighed. "Of course."
I glanced at the chief.
His face was pale.
My tail flicked. Hoh?
So, there was drama between him and Lak Hok.
Reviews
All reviews (0)