The audience buzzed with a mix of excitement and exhaustion as the last match of the first round was announced. It had been a long day of duels, with the fighters putting on a display of skill, strategy, and pure determination. But now, anticipation surged through the crowd as Jimmy's voice rang out over the arena, introducing the final match."And for our last matchup of the first round, we have Gordon of Stronghold against Abbot of Veilstead!" Jimmy's voice echoed, carrying the weight of mystery that had surrounded Veilstead's fighters all day.Gordon stepped forward, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. He was ready. After watching his teammates battle their way to victory, he was more than determined to make a lasting impression. Across the ring, Abbot appeared—a tall, slender figure draped in dark, nondescript clothing that seemed to absorb the light around him. His face was obscured by the hood of his cloak, his movements slow and deliberate as he took his place, radiating an eerie calm.The bell rang, and without hesitation, Gordon charged forward, fists blazing with concentrated energy. He had no intention of drawing this match out; his strategy was simple: hit hard, hit fast, and keep Abbot on the defensive."Gordon isn't wasting any time, folks!" Jimmy's voice rang out, adding fuel to the crowd's cheers. "He's going in with full force from the get-go!"Gordon's fists collided with Abbot's body, and each hit connected with a solid thud, but Abbot didn't even flinch. He took the barrage of punches, remaining eerily still, his shadowed face unreadable as Gordon struck again and again. It was as though he was made of stone."Come on!" Gordon grunted, his breath heavy with exertion as he landed another punch to Abbot's midsection, a solid hit that would have staggered any other fighter. But Abbot didn't even waver."You're a lot tougher than you look," Gordon sneered, stepping back for a moment to catch his breath. But Abbot's silence, his lack of reaction, gnawed at him. It was unsettling, and Gordon's confidence wavered just a bit.Still, Gordon wouldn't back down. He lunged forward, sending a powerful kick to Abbot's side, followed by another series of punches, each one filled with unrestrained aggression. The punches landed, and finally, he felt resistance as blood trickled down Abbot's face from a split lip.And that's when it happened.Abbot's lips twisted into a wide, unsettling grin as he reached up, wiping the blood from his mouth. His gaze locked onto Gordon's, eyes glinting with a twisted, almost otherworldly delight. Then he laughed—a low, eerie sound that echoed through the arena, sending chills down the spectators' spines."What... what's so funny?" Gordon stammered, his fists still raised, though doubt flickered in his eyes. He took a step back, instinctively, as Abbot's laughter grew louder, reverberating through the silence that had fallen over the crowd.Without a word, Abbot lunged forward, his movement impossibly fast, and before Gordon could react, Abbot's fist drove into his gut with a brutal force. The impact was like nothing he'd ever felt, a wave of pain radiating through his body as his vision blurred.Gordon gasped, the air forced from his lungs as he doubled over. His knees buckled, and he felt Abbot's hand grip his shoulder, steadying him. For a moment, everything was spinning, the world narrowing down to the sound of Abbot's twisted laughter and the relentless ache in his gut.Abbot leaned in close, his voice a whisper dripping with dark amusement. "You're interesting, Stronghold. You could be... it."The words sent a shiver down Gordon's spine, a cryptic message that left him dazed. And then, as suddenly as he had struck, Abbot stepped back, releasing Gordon, who sank to his knees, barely holding onto consciousness.Then, to everyone's shock, Abbot raised his hand, signaling to the official. "I forfeit."The crowd gasped, a murmur of confusion and frustration spreading through the stands. Jimmy's voice, for once, held a note of disbelief. "Uh... ladies and gentlemen, Abbot of Veilstead has just forfeited! Which means the winner, by forfeit, is Gordon of Stronghold!"The officials rushed forward, lifting the barely-conscious Gordon to his feet, guiding him to the sidelines as he struggled to make sense of what had happened. The entire stadium was buzzing with confusion, spectators murmuring as they tried to process the abrupt end to such an anticipated match.As Gordon was carried out, the last thing he saw was Abbot's shadowed figure disappearing back into the depths of the arena, his unsettling laughter still echoing in Gordon's mind.The first round had ended, but for everyone watching—and for Gordon himself—the match left more questions than answers.