Back at the grand tournament, the sands of the arena were stained with both the triumphs and failures of warriors. Many had already tasted either victory or defeat, but the second phase was about to begin—a more perilous and gruelling test of skill and will. The first duel of this phase was set: Marc, a warrior of formidable strength, would face Enigma, a mysterious fighter cloaked in shadow and rumour.
In the preparation chamber, Marc stood with a furrowed brow, his thoughts heavy. The air around him buzzed with nervous energy. He turned to the Head, a seasoned strategist, seeking wisdom for the coming storm.
"How do you think I'll fare against him?" Marc asked, his voice edged with concern. His eyes flickered toward Enigma, who stood distant, enigmatic as ever.
The Head regarded him for a moment, then sighed. "If I'm being honest, you'll die."
Marc's heart sank. He clenched his fists, forcing a grim smile. "So my chances are that bad, huh?" He cast a glance at his opponent once more. Enigma's gaze, hidden behind a mask, was locked on him, unmoving, unreadable.
The time had come. Both fighters strode into the arena, each step a declaration of intent. Marc's posture was tense, solid, every muscle in his body on alert, his stance betraying the gravity of the situation. Enigma, in contrast, stood with an eerie calm, his stance casual as though the weight of the duel did not concern him in the slightest.
Before the clash could begin, the judge's voice boomed across the stadium, cutting through the tension. "Before we commence, an announcement: Killing is now prohibited. Any fighter who slays their opponent will be disqualified. Thank you for your attention."
Marc exhaled, feeling a measure of relief wash over him. At least his life was no longer on the line. He glanced at Enigma, searching for a reaction. But the masked figure stood as still as before, his body an unreadable enigma, betraying nothing. Not a twitch, not a flinch.
The silence was shattered by the roar of the announcer. "THE NEXT MATCH: MARC VERSUS ENIGMA!" The crowd erupted in excitement, the air thick with anticipation.
Marc's heart raced, his eyes never leaving Enigma, scrutinizing every subtle movement. The arena seemed to stretch time, both fighters standing motionless, as if the very world held its breath. Marc watched Enigma closely, noting the rise and fall of his chest, the controlled rhythm of his breathing.
Then, without warning, Enigma exploded into motion, a blur of speed that defied belief. The very air screamed as the sound barrier shattered in his wake. Marc barely had time to react. Instinct took over, and he rolled aside just as Enigma's fist cut through the space where he had stood moments before, the force of the punch leaving a crater in the arena floor.
Marc retaliated immediately, his eyes igniting with fiery power. Twin beams of searing light shot from his gaze, aimed straight for Enigma's mask. But before the lasers could reach their target, Enigma raised a single hand, catching the energy effortlessly, as though it were nothing more than a gentle breeze.
Marc's eyes widened in disbelief, Marc's mind reeled in disbelief. How could anyone, human or not, withstand a blast of 1,000 degrees Celsius? His laser eyes had seared through steel, melted stone, but Enigma had deflected it with nothing but a hand, emerging unscathed. There was no time to ponder the impossible. Enigma was already moving, preparing to strike once more.
This time, the masked warrior's attack was even faster, more devastating than before. Marc could barely register the blur of movement as Enigma's fist rocketed towards him with terrifying speed. His instincts screamed, but his body simply couldn't keep up. The punch landed with a force that defied reason, crashing into Marc's chest with a bone-shattering impact.
The world tilted. Marc's vision blurred as his body was hurled across the arena like a rag doll, crashing into the stone walls with a sickening thud. The sheer power of the blow sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, nearly shattering the protective barriers around the spectators. The ground trembled beneath them, the very foundation of the arena cracking and splintering under the force. Chunks of stone broke free, strewn across the field like the remnants of a battlefield long abandoned.
Marc's battered form lay crumpled on the far side of the arena, his breath shallow, his body barely clinging to life. Blood trickled from his lips, and every inch of him screamed in agony. It was a miracle he had survived at all.
"What an incredible display of power!" the announcer's voice boomed through the stunned silence. "Enigma has unleashed an attack of unimaginable strength. But the question remains—can Marc endure such a blow?"
The crowd sat frozen, the weight of what they had just witnessed sinking in. All eyes were on Marc's motionless form, waiting to see if the warrior still had any fight left within him. He lay still, alive, but barely.
Marc's body trembled as he struggled to rise, pain coursing through every muscle, every bone. His vision swam, but through sheer will, he forced himself to stand. His legs shook beneath him, his face bruised and bloodied, yet he remained upright. Gasps echoed throughout the arena—no one could believe it. Not the spectators, not the judges, not even the other fighters who had once doubted his resolve. Against all odds, Marc had survived the blow.
He lifted his gaze toward Enigma, eyes burning with a fierce, unyielding determination. The glow in his eyes told a simple truth: Marc was not done yet. He would not fall here.
Enigma, watching from across the arena, tilted his head ever so slightly. Behind his mask, there was a hint of something close to admiration. It wasn't often that someone could take one of his full-force attacks and live, let alone rise again. For the first time, Enigma acknowledged Marc not as an opponent, but as a potential equal—someone with the makings of a legend.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Enigma raised his arms and began to clap, the sound of his applause echoing across the silent battleground.
"I'm impressed," Enigma's voice rang out, calm yet resonant. "To endure an attack of that magnitude... remarkable." His clapping ceased, and for a brief moment, there was silence. "Well done," he continued, his tone laced with genuine respect. "It seems this world has someone strong after all."
Marc's heart raced, but not from fear. This was no longer just a fight—it was recognition, a promise of something greater. He had earned the respect of a warrior feared by all. And in that moment, Marc knew he would give everything to claim victory.
In a heartbeat, both Marc and Enigma surged forward, dashing across the arena like twin streaks of lightning. The air crackled with tension as their movements blurred, each warrior driven by an unyielding will to claim victory. Marc's body, bruised and battered, still moved with the raw determination of a fighter who refused to back down. His eyes, glowing with fierce resolve, were locked onto Enigma, intent on breaking through the shadow that stood before him.
Enigma, calm yet relentless, charged with equal purpose. There was no hesitation in his stride, only the precision of a warrior who had seen countless battles and emerged victorious time and again. Yet, even in his calm, there was something new—a hint of admiration, and a newfound respect for the opponent who dared to rise again.
The clash was inevitable, both fighters racing toward each other, their desire to win burning brighter than ever. But deep within, Marc's resolve blazed hotter. This fight was not just about strength—it was about survival, about proving that even against impossible odds, he could triumph. And as they closed the gap, the entire arena seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the moment when the two forces would collide in a storm of power and will.