**Chapter 35: The Roar of Battle**
The drums began to beat, slow and steady at first, then picking up speed, echoing through the grand arena. The sound was hypnotic, drawing the crowd into a fevered anticipation. The arena itself was a marvel of architecture—an imposing, majestic structure that seemed to reach up to the heavens. Stone pillars carved with intricate patterns lined the perimeter, each one telling the tale of ancient heroes and battles long past. Above the arena, banners of every color fluttered in the wind, representing the various clans, guilds, and powers present.
The seating was arranged in ascending tiers, with the most prominent figures occupying the highest seats, offering them the best view of the events below. The common folk sat lower, their cheers and excitement adding to the electric atmosphere. At the very top, under a golden canopy, sat the most influential leaders, their gazes fixed on the arena floor, where the final round of the tournament was about to begin.
Mages lined the edges of the arena, releasing bursts of fire into the air, each explosion a different color, creating a dazzling display above the heads of the spectators. The fiery spectacle was mesmerizing, the flames twisting and turning, forming shapes that danced across the sky before dissipating into the air. It was beautiful and intense, a fitting prelude to the battle that was about to take place.
Then, from beneath the grand archway at the far end of the arena, ten one-star knights marched forward in perfect unison. Their armor gleamed in the sunlight, each step they took echoing like thunder across the arena. These knights were not here to fight; they were the guardians of the stages, each responsible for overseeing the battles that would soon unfold. They took their positions behind the ten separate stages, their presence alone imposing enough to make even the most seasoned warrior think twice.
The final round was a royal rumble, open to all those who were already knights but still sought entry into the Knights Academy. The ranks of the knights swelled into the tens of thousands, a sea of warriors who had come to prove themselves worthy. Each stage could hold a thousand knights at a time, and there would be ten rounds of battle on each stage. The rules were simple—only one knight from each round could emerge victorious.
As the knights took their places on the various stages, the drums reached a fever pitch. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, eager to see the bloodshed, the heroics, and the sheer willpower that would be on display. This was no ordinary battle; it was a test of strength, skill, and determination, where only the strongest would survive.
### **Stage One: The Captain's Fury**
My heart pounded in my chest as I stepped onto the stage, the roar of the crowd like a distant hum in my ears. I was Captain Lyria of the City Guards, a veteran of countless battles, but this was different. I could feel the weight of a thousand eyes on me, each one waiting to see if I would live up to my reputation.
I took a deep breath, feeling the familiar surge of power as my bloodline began to awaken. It was a gift, or perhaps a curse, passed down through generations—when I activated it, I became faster, stronger, more focused. But it had a time limit, and if I wasn't careful, it could turn against me.
The signal to begin was given, and chaos erupted around me. Knights clashed with a fury, swords flashing, shields raised in defense. I wasted no time, activating my bloodline and charging forward, my senses heightened, my movements a blur. I cut through the throng of knights, each strike precise, each movement calculated. The world around me slowed as I moved faster than human eyes could track. But I knew it wouldn't last.
A massive figure loomed before me, a knight with the bloodline of giants, his strength unmatched by any normal man. He swung his massive axe with enough force to shatter stone. I ducked under the blow, feeling the wind as it passed over my head, and drove my sword into his side. He grunted in pain, but it wasn't enough to bring him down. His next strike came too fast, and I barely managed to block it, the force of the blow sending me skidding across the stage.
But I couldn't afford to stop. I pushed forward, my sword a blur as I hacked away at his defenses. His strength was waning, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he fell. With one final, powerful thrust, I drove my sword through his chest, and he toppled to the ground, defeated.
But there was no time to celebrate. The battle raged on, and I had to keep moving, keep fighting. This was far from over.
### **Stage Two: The Swordmaster's Duel**
I was a wanted man, known only as Aric. My crimes were many, my past steeped in blood. I didn't care for glory or honor; I was here for survival. The Knights Academy was my only chance at a new life, away from the bounty hunters that dogged my every step.
I clutched my sword, a Tier 2 blade stolen from a nobleman I had once served. It was the only thing I valued, the only thing I trusted. As the battle began, I didn't rush in like the others. I waited, watching, studying my opponents. They were hungry for victory, but that hunger made them reckless.
A knight charged at me, his sword held high. I sidestepped, slashing his leg as he passed, sending him sprawling to the ground. Another came at me, and I deflected his strike with ease, driving my sword into his throat. I was a blade in the dark, unseen until it was too late.
But then I saw him—a knight unlike the others, his movements fluid, his strikes precise. He was a swordmaster, a true warrior, and he had noticed me. Our eyes met across the stage, and we both knew that this would be a duel to the death.
We circled each other, the chaos of the battle fading into the background. He struck first, his blade singing as it cut through the air. I parried, feeling the shock of the impact travel up my arm. He was fast, faster than anyone I had faced before. But I was faster.
I countered, my blade a blur as I went on the offensive. But he blocked every strike, his movements effortless. It was like fighting a mirror, every move I made was reflected back at me. We were evenly matched, neither able to gain the upper hand.
But I had something he didn't—a willingness to do whatever it took to survive. As we locked blades, I reached into my coat and pulled out a small vial. With a quick motion, I threw it at his feet. The vial shattered, releasing a cloud of toxic gas. He staggered back, coughing, his vision blurred.
It was all the opening I needed. I lunged forward, driving my sword into his chest. He gasped, his eyes wide with shock as he fell to the ground. I stood over him, breathing heavily, my heart pounding. I had won, but at what cost?
### **Stage Three: The Firebrand**
The flames danced in the air as I unleashed my power, the heat of the fire wrapping around me like a cloak. I was called the Firebrand, a knight born with the ability to control fire. It was a power that had brought me both fame and fear. And now, it would be my weapon in this battle.
As the signal to begin was given, I didn't hesitate. I summoned flames from the very ground beneath me, sending them roaring towards my enemies. The fire engulfed them, their screams of terror filling the air as they burned. But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.
A knight with a shield of ice charged at me, his eyes filled with determination. He raised his shield, blocking the flames as he advanced. I smiled, knowing that ice was no match for my fire. I focused my power, intensifying the heat until the ice began to melt, the shield turning to water in his hands.
He was defenseless. I sent a jet of flame towards him, and he fell, his body consumed by the fire. But there was no time to rest. More knights were coming, and I had to be ready.
I could feel the heat building within me, the flames growing hotter with every moment. It was a dangerous power, one that could easily consume me if I wasn't careful. But I didn't care. All that mattered was the victory, the glory that awaited me if I won.
But then, I saw her—a knight with a bloodline that allowed her to absorb and redirect energy. She was coming for me, her eyes locked on mine. I knew that my flames would be useless against her, but I wasn't about to give up.
We clashed in a burst of energy, her hands glowing as she absorbed the heat from my flames. I could feel my power draining, the fire within me weakening. But I couldn't let her win. With a final burst of strength, I summoned the last of my flames and sent them towards her.
She absorbed the energy, her body glowing with power. But as she prepared to strike back, I drew my sword and charged at her. She wasn't expecting it, her focus entirely on the flames. My sword pierced her chest, and she fell to the ground, her eyes wide with surprise.
I had won, but the victory felt hollow. The flames within me were dying, and I knew that I couldn't keep this up much longer. But there was no turning back now. I had to keep fighting, had to keep winning.
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### **Stage Four: The Shadow Walker**
I moved silently through the chaos, a ghost among the living. They called me the Shadow Walker, a title earned through years of mastering the art of stealth. My power was not in brute strength or overwhelming force, but in the ability to strike from the shadows, unseen and unheard.
As the battle began, I faded into the darkness, blending with the shadows cast by the towering knights. The others fought in the open, their swords clashing, their shouts filling the air, but I waited. I watched. My time would come when they least expected it.
A knight with a massive warhammer was my first target. He swung the heavy weapon with deadly force, crushing anyone who came too close. But his strength made him slow, and slow was exactly what I needed. As he prepared to bring the hammer down on an opponent, I emerged from the shadows, my dagger slicing through the air. The blade found its mark in the back of his neck, severing the spine. He fell without a sound, the life draining from his eyes before he even hit the ground.
I disappeared back into the shadows before anyone noticed, moving quickly to my next target. A pair of knights were locked in combat, their swords ringing out as they fought for dominance. They were evenly matched, both skilled in the art of war. But in their focus on each other, they didn't notice me.
I circled around them, waiting for the perfect moment. When it came, I struck, driving my dagger into the side of the first knight's throat. Blood sprayed out as he fell, his eyes wide with shock. The second knight barely had time to react before my blade found his heart. He crumpled to the ground, joining his fallen comrade.
I felt no remorse, no pity for those I killed. This was a battle, and in battle, only the strongest survived. I was here to win, not to make friends. As the bodies piled up, I knew I was one step closer to victory.
But then, I saw him—a knight with a pair of enchanted eyes that could see through any illusion, any shadow. He had spotted me, his gaze piercing through my cloak of darkness. I could feel his eyes on me, tracking my every move.
I knew this would be my greatest challenge. I couldn't rely on stealth alone; I would have to fight him head-on. We circled each other, our eyes locked in a battle of wills. He struck first, his sword cutting through the air with blinding speed. I dodged, feeling the blade graze my arm, but I didn't stop. I countered with a flurry of strikes, my dagger moving like a viper.
He parried each blow with ease, his eyes never leaving mine. It was like fighting a mirror image of myself, each of us anticipating the other's next move. But I had one advantage—my unpredictability. With a sudden burst of speed, I closed the distance between us and drove my dagger into his side.
He gasped, his eyes wide with pain and surprise. I twisted the blade, feeling the life drain from him as he fell to the ground. I had won, but at a cost. I was wounded, bleeding from several cuts, but I was still standing. And that was all that mattered.
*****End of chapter 35*****