From the shadows of the arena's entrance, Seiji stood with his arms crossed, his sharp amber eyes following every move Jin made. He chuckled softly to himself, his voice barely audible over the roaring crowd.
"A psychic ability," he murmured. "It's been a long time since I've seen someone use that. So, this kid hails from that clan, huh?" His lips curled into a faint, amused smile as his attention remained fixed on the fight.
The Fight Resumes
Back in the pit, the crowd erupted in disbelief as Faceless wiped the thin line of blood from his cheek. The narrator's voice boomed over the chaos, his tone dripping with excitement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, can you believe it? The newcomer has drawn first blood! What a turn of events!"
Faceless sneered, his mask barely concealing his fury. With a guttural roar, he raised his hand, summoning tiny projectiles of compressed sand. They hovered around him for a moment before shooting forward like bullets.
Jin's eyes narrowed as the sand bullets raced toward him. He ducked low, rolling to the side as the first wave zipped past him, narrowly missing his head. He sprang back to his feet, twisting and dodging as more projectiles came in quick succession.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Each attack missed its mark, Jin's movements precise and fluid as he danced through the storm of sand. But as he leaped to dodge the final shot, a sharp burst of sand struck his shoulder mid-air, sending him crashing to the ground.
The sand Replica Technique
Faceless didn't waste a moment. Slamming his hands into the dirt, he summoned three identical replicas of himself, each formed from the sand beneath their feet. The replicas moved in perfect synchronization, their distorted features mirroring Faceless's sinister grin.
Jin pushed himself to his feet, his hand clutching his injured shoulder. He steadied his blade as the three sand replicas rushed toward him, their heavy footfalls kicking up clouds of dust.
The first replica lunged at Jin, its arms morphing into jagged spikes of sand as it aimed for his torso. Jin sidestepped at the last second, his blade flashing as he slashed downward. The replica crumbled into a pile of sand, its form dissolving with a hiss.
The second replica attacked from behind, its sandy arms snaking toward Jin like whips. Jin spun on his heel, using his blade to deflect the attack. The sound of clashing steel and sand echoed through the arena as Jin slashed horizontally, severing the replica in two. It collapsed into a heap of dust, its remnants scattering in the wind.
The third replica was faster, closing the distance between them in an instant. It leaped into the air, its fists transforming into massive hammers as it came crashing down toward Jin. Jin rolled forward, narrowly avoiding the impact as the ground behind him exploded in a burst of sand.
Rising to his feet, Jin wasted no time. He dashed forward, his blade slicing cleanly through the replica's midsection. The sand figure trembled for a moment before collapsing into a shapeless mound at his feet.
The Crowd Roars
The arena erupted with cheers and applause as Jin stood amidst the remains of the sand replicas, his blade gleaming in the sunlight. The crowd, which had started off skeptical, now chanted his name with fervor:
"JIN! JIN! JIN!"
Faceless watched from the other side of the pit, his fists clenched and his breathing heavy. "You think you're clever, don't you?" he snarled, his voice filled with venom.
Jin lowered his blade slightly, his expression calm but determined. "You should've brought more than three," he said, his tone icy.
Jin stood amidst the remnants of the sand replicas, his breathing steady despite the exertion. Across the pit, Faceless snarled, his rage palpable as he prepared for another attack. But Jin had already made his decision—it was time to end this.
Slowly, Jin raised his blade, holding it vertically before him. His hand moved to the tip of the sword, steady and deliberate. He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath.
The crowd hushed, their cheers fading into murmurs as they watched in anticipation. A faint, eerie glow began to emanate from Jin's blade, dark flames curling along its edge. The shadows seemed to ripple around him, the energy growing more intense with each passing second.
Faceless hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty flashing through his eyes. "What… what is this?" he muttered, gripping his spiked club tighter.
Jin's eyes snapped open, hard and cold, the dark flames reflecting in his gaze. In an instant, he moved—a blur of speed that was almost imperceptible to the naked eye.
The Killing Blow
The next thing the crowd saw was Jin standing behind Faceless, his blade held steady at his side. Blood spilled in thin, crimson arcs as multiple gashes appeared across Faceless's body. The towering fighter staggered, his knees buckling as he dropped his club, the weight of the injuries overwhelming him.
The crowd erupted in thunderous applause and cheers, their chants shaking the very ground.
"JIN! JIN! JIN!"
The narrator stood frozen for a moment, his jaw slack in disbelief. "What just happened?" he bellowed into his horn, his voice tinged with astonishment. "Ladies and gentlemen, did you see that speed? This newcomer is full of surprises!"
Faceless collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his iron mask clattering beside him as the dark flames dissipated from Jin's blade.
Jin said to Faceless who was already down on the ground, "it was already over when my Illusion got you"
From his vantage point, Seiji watched with a faint smile, his arms still crossed. "Not bad," he murmured to himself. "But still rough. He's got a long way to go."
Beside him, Rebekah laughed, her tone a mix of amusement and mockery. "Impressive," she said, her arms crossed as she leaned back against the wall.
Seiji nodded in agreement. "She's right," he said quietly. "He's got potential, but he's not ready yet."
The Aftermath
Jin stepped away from the fallen Faceless, his blade still steady in his hand. His expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—resolve, perhaps, or exhaustion. The crowd continued to chant his name as the narrator approached the center of the pit.
"Your winner… JIIIIIIIN!" the narrator roared, raising his arms to incite the crowd even further.
Jin walked out of the pit, the cheers fading behind him as he entered the corridor leading to the locker room. His mind was already shifting to the next fight, knowing this was just the beginning.
Behind him, a large board near the entrance updated with a loud click, Jin's name moving up the rankings as it marked him as the winner. His next match was already being prepared.