In the dimly lit cell, moisture hung heavy in the air, clinging to the walls and floor, creating a dank atmosphere. The scent of dampness permeated the space, mingling with a musty odor that hinted at neglect. Puddles of water pooled in corners, reflecting the faint light that filtered through a small, barred window.
Two young men occupied the cramped room, their presence only adding to the oppressive feeling. One, with golden hair and piercing eyes, sat with a sword clasped in his hands, his posture tense as he closed his eyes in contemplation. The blade gleamed faintly in the dim light, its edge honed to perfection, ready for any challenge that may come his way.
Opposite him sat his companion, a young man with jet-black hair and eyes filled with curiosity. In his hands, he held a card, its surface adorned with mysterious markings that he studied intently. His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to decipher its meaning, unaware of the golden-haired youth's introspection.
Despite the unpleasant surroundings, the two remained in quiet companionship, their shared anticipation of what lay ahead bridging the gap between them.
Elijah returned to his cell clutching a card he didn't fully understand. Inside, he found a fellow closing his eyes. "Do you know what this is?" Elijah inquired, awaiting his response.
After a silent moment, the guy replied, "That's a match-up card." Opening his eyes slightly, he explained, "Everyone here is a slave, and to break free, you have to become a fighter. Every three months, slaves get a shot to prove themselves, aiming to be chosen as fighters with more freedom."
"A match-up card is for those deemed worthy to fight. It shows how many bouts you have left this round."
Elijah nodded, "So it tells me how many matches I've got left?" The guy nodded, remaining silent. "What's your name then?"
"Does it matter? We might end up fighting each other anyway," he answered bluntly.
Elijah chuckled, "Why should fighting stop us from being friends?" The guy was taken aback but considered Elijah's words, eventually replying, "Call me Kai."
"Elijah it is," he said, rising to shake hands. "Being cautious isn't naive; it's just caring. We trust because that's how we find out if someone's trustworthy."
Kai smiled, reciprocating the handshake. "Maybe you're right," he conceded.
"So, we just have to win four more fights, right?" Elijah asked.
"Yep."
"Then let's not lose any. We'll see each other outside these cells," Elijah declared with confidence.
Elijah won his fights, leaving only one left. Kai did the same, but after his last match, he was badly injured and taken away, leaving Elijah with his final opponent, someone who had achieved what he had.
The beast was formidable, and Elijah's opponent was even stronger. Closing his eyes, Elijah focused his Chi. A guard arrived, signaling it was time. Elijah followed him to the arena.
The arena stretched vast and wide, its boundaries marked by towering walls adorned with colorful banners and flags fluttering in the breeze. Thousands of eager spectators filled the stands, their excited murmurs creating a buzz of anticipation that hung heavy in the air.
The ring, situated at the center of the arena, gleamed under the bright lights that illuminated every corner of the vast space. Its surface, polished to a mirror-like shine, reflected the faces of the spectators gazing down upon it with eager anticipation.
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement palpable as they eagerly awaited the upcoming match. Each seat was filled to capacity, and the aisles overflowed with spectators standing shoulder to shoulder, craning their necks for a better view of the action to come.
Flags waved, banners swayed, and the roar of the crowd echoed off the walls, creating a cacophony of sound that filled the arena with electric energy. From all corners of the arena, the eyes of thousands were fixed upon the ring, their anticipation building with each passing moment.
In this sea of enthusiastic spectators, there was no shortage of joy and excitement for the impending match. The atmosphere was alive with the thrill of competition, and the crowd's enthusiasm was contagious, spreading like wildfire throughout the arena as they eagerly awaited the spectacle about to unfold before them.
In the arena, the crowd cheered as the announcer proclaimed, "Ladies and gentlemen, the Sky Warrior versus the Martial King!"
"The last match of the day," the announcer bellowed, fueling the crowd's excitement. The two opponents approached, Elijah wearing something different this time—he wore black gauntlets emitting pressure. 'My strength's increased,' he realized as he walked to the arena. His opponent, a beast-man in Japanese attire, exuded a similar aura to Victor, but distinctly different.
Standing in the arena, Elijah noticed the Martial King's ears twitch and tails flick, intriguing him. He sensed a beast staring at him as his opponent transformed into a lion-like figure. 'So cool,' Elijah thought, his gaze fixed.
Above the crowd, high-status individuals observed from a room. The Martial King glanced at them briefly. Elijah continued analyzing his opponent, who declared, "Today's your last day, kid. Sorry."
"Sorry about that, but I don't think so," Elijah retorted. The Martial King's power was an (E-) rank, surpassing Elijah's (F+) rank. Plus, his transformation and elemental boost gave him an edge. 'It's gonna be tough, but I'll win.'
"Fighters, ready!" the announcer shouted, then commanded, "Fight!"
They charged at each other. Elijah executed a "Flash Step," doubling his speed with precise Chi control. They clashed, raining fists and kicks.
Their kicks connected, and Elijah felt the power gap. He leaped back, but the Martial King caught his leg, throwing him and landing punches.
Bam.
Bam.
Bam.
The Martial King conjured earth to shield himself, but Elijah kicked the wall, and suddenly he saw himself being sent flying.
BOOM.