The massive iron-banded gates creaked open before Kai, flooding his vision with blinding white light. The deafening roar of the crowd bled in from the open air beyond. He stepped forward without hesitation, the soles of his boots crunching softly against the dirt-lined corridor floor. With each step, the thunder of the arena grew, hundreds, maybe thousands of voices crashing together into a single, booming wave of anticipation.
He pulled a sword and a small shield out of his shadow space and looked them over once. His sigils still held strong. Increased durability ok the shield, and sharpness on the sword.
And then he erged.
In the Arena of Kings.
A battlefield carved with purpose. A perfectly square combat space, dozens of tres across, made of reinforced concrete tiles fitted together like the bones of so ancient giant. The surface was flat, pale, and faintly cracked from the sheer brutality of battles past. Surrounding that fighting space was a border of coarse dirt, extending in a ten-tre buffer before it reached the outer walls, which held the tiered rows of spectators safely behind thick enchanted barriers.
Banners fluttered above. Magic sigils buzzed faintly in the air, maintaining the protections and the amplification enchantnts that carried voices and sound to every corner of the coliseum.
Then ca the voice.
"We have a newcor today!" the announcer’s voice bood out, thick with showmanship and magic, "Alex Trunsdale, grandson of the fad elental battlemage Angelica Trunsdale!"
There was a stir in the crowd. Whispers. Interest. The na clearly held weight.
"We know next to nothing about this boy... but we’ll all know a great deal more after today!"
Kai didn’t react outwardly, though a faint smirk played on his lips. Angelica... She’d been one of the strongest souls he absorbed. A proud woman. Brilliant. And now her legacy was being borrowed to mask his own.
He scanned the crowd briefly with Mana Sight, tracing the threads of energy that flowed above him. One source pulsed more distinctly than the rest, a concentrated signature of mana suspended inside a floating spectator’s box, far above the arena’s edge. Within it, Kai saw a lone figure: the sa man who had announced the tournant bracket. His mana glimred with the polish of soone powerful... but not overwhelmingly so.
"Oh, you’ll know more than you’re ready for," Kai muttered under his breath.
He lifted a hand in a casual wave toward the stands. The crowd responded with lukewarm interest, light clapping and murmurs, until sothing caught his eye.
Near the lower tiers, a flash of blonde hair. A girl in a simple tunic clapping enthusiastically. She was too far for her voice to reach him, but he could read the movent of her lips: "You’ve got this!"
Vepice.
The knot of tension in his chest loosened just a little.
From the opposite gate, the ground trembled.
Durg had arrived.
The arena erupted. Wild cheers, chants of his na, stomps and whistles as the massive man erged like a wall of muscle wrapped in skin. Over two and a half tres tall, his bare chest glead with sweat and oil, his massive fra rippling with corded strength. In one hand, he dragged a massive tower shield, and in the other... nothing.
"And of course," the announcer thundered, barely audible over the crowd, "You all know this towering behemoth! The man who shattered an ogre’s spine with a single charge! Durg, the two and a half tre tall behemoth who needs no blade!"
Kai and Durg stepped toward the center of the tiled square. Their boots echoed as they stopped, five paces apart.
Durg grinned, his voice low and gravelled. "More than one strike, yes?"
Kai didn’t return the smile. "Yes, Durg. I’ll make sure you rember ."
The announcer cleared his throat again, and the enchanted projection carried his voice across the arena like a divine proclamation.
"As this is the opening match of the Arena of Kings tournant, let remind you all of the rules!
First! No direct-use magic that influences your opponent externally, no mind control, binding spells, elental blasts, or summons. Everything must co from within!
Second! Killing is prohibited unless deed accidental by the adjudicators.
Third! Leaving the combat square for more than ten seconds ans automatic defeat.
Fourth! Other than the third rule, only when a fighter loses consciousness, is incapacitated, or forfeits, will a victor be declared!"
The air tightened with anticipation.
A heartbeat passed. Then another.
"When you’re ready... FIGHT!"
The silence was imdiate and absolute.
Spectators leaned forward. Even the wind seed to still.
Kai stood motionless, the sigils etched into his skin pulsing quietly beneath his clothes, like a second heartbeat.
Durg crouched slightly, his smile sharpening into sothing predatory.
Two fighters.
One square.
One chance to rise.
And Kai Tensen, as Alex Trunsdale, would make his mark.
Kai took a deep breath and, while doing so, Durg made the first move.
The massive man surged forward, each footstep a thunderous quake that echoed through the arena floor. Dust and grit flew into the air as his montum built like an avalanche. For a man of such size, his speed was disorienting, monstrous and relentless.
This was the type of man who would chop down a tree in a single swing or lift a car up with one hand in his old life. Not the type of person you let get close.
Kai reacted instantly. He pushed off the ground using shadow magic, the force propelling him up and back. Then ca a blast of wind magic, a spiraling current at his heels, accelerating him in a blur.
But he’d miscalculated.
Durg was faster than anticipated.
As Kai sailed through the air, a flash of movent caught the edge of his vision. Durg’s hand, thick and calloused, gripped the corner of his massive tower shield with just his fingertips. Then, with a twisting motion, he swing the shield sideways like an old hand fan. A giant tal fan.
CRACK!
The shield slamd into Kai mid-flight with bone-jarring force, shattering both layers of his barrier spells with a shuddering pulse of mana. The impact was like being struck by a siege weapon. Kai’s body twisted, then flipped, then bounced across the stone tiles of the arena.
He gritted his teeth, pain flaring as he hit the ground.
Once.
Twice.
Three tis.
And then he skidded toward the edge of the combat zone, montum hurling him dangerously close to the spectator wall.
With a sharp exhale and a bloodied lip, Kai flared his fingers and released a burst of wind magic beneath him, the drag slowing his descent just before he impacted the wall.
His boots struck the dirt just inches from the threshold. He winced. A thousand eyes were locked on him.
"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, spitting blood to the side. "I’m struggling this much with just my first fight?"
The announcer whistled sharply, voice booming.
"WHAT A STRIKE! Will the grandson of Angelica be the first to fall by ring-out this year? The countdown begins—TEN!"
"NINE!"
Kai groaned and staggered upright, legs wobbling from the impact. He sprinted forward, heart thundering like a drum. The ground rushed beneath him.
"EIGHT!"
He saw Durg, now calmly walking back to his starting position with a sense of respect. So might try and prevent Kai from returning to the ring, but not him.
"SEVEN!"
The crowd was rising, cheering, gasping.
"SIX!"
Kai speedily crossed the dirt and leapt forward.
"FIVE!"
Durg looked at him with a nod of acceptance.
"FOUR! THREE!-"
Too late. The countdown stopped. Kai landed on the arena tiles.
The crowd erupted in relieved applause as the announcer laughed into the magical amplification.
"Back in the ring at three seconds! What spirit!"
Kai held up a hand, feigning confidence, though his ribs ached from the hit. "See?" he called across the square. "I survived a strike."
Durg’s booming laughter answered him. "Good! Good! You are the third person who did not lose sothing from my first strike! I want to see if you are the first to survive my second!"
Kai wiped the sweat from his brow. The hit may have disoriented him, but it had also woken him up. Underestimating anyone in this tournant could cost him more than just a loss.
"You won’t hit again." His voice was calm. Confident. Maybe even cocky. But it was all fake bravado.
He brought his hands up slowly and cast three layers of barrier magic, the first a mana sh just above his skin, the second a wind-disruption barrier ant to deflect physical montum, and the third, a dense shadow shell that stuck to his limbs like armour.
’Three should protect better.’
Deep inside, he could feel the sigil on his back glowing faintly, the masterpiece he’d carved into his own flesh. His vision sharpened. His mind cleared. His body humd with magic. The more life essence he burned through, the hotter the sigil burned.
"Co, then," Durg bellowed, slamming his foot into the tile with a crack. "Let’s see how fast you really are!"
Kai exhaled slowly and widened his stance. The shadows behind him stretched unnaturally across the arena floor.
In the case Durg still moved too fast, Kai would use his shadows to pull him out of harm’s way.
The heat of the sun above pressed down like a spotlight, and every sound of the crowd blurred into background noise.
In this mont, there was only the space between them.
And what he would do with it.
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