As the dawn broke over Taiping, a surge of anticipation buzzed through Ragnar's veins. This was the moment he had prepared for, when he and Kiran would take center stage. The Regional Tournament presented his opportunity to demonstrate that his spirit and expertise as a champion remained, regardless of his new and youthful form. By his side, Kiran, his wolfish companion with a silvery blue-gray coat and piercing golden eyes, mirrored his resolve. They had trained relentlessly together, cultivating a relationship based on mutual trust and healing. Today, they would face whatever the ring held.
The tournament grounds crackled with energy. Bright banners decorated the entrance, and crowds packed the area, some cheering, others murmuring estimates about potential victors. Ragnar surveyed the scene, his gaze keen, noting the variety of competitors who had assembled. Some clearly seasoned, their manner calm and calculating, while others seemed jittery, their eyes wide with either nerves or anticipation. And then there were those putting on a performance—strutting around with beasts twice their size, trying to intimidate any who dared to look their way.
Ragnar smiled to himself. He had witnessed this before—contenders who relied more on appearances than skill, presuming that loud bravado and oversized beasts would somehow guarantee triumph. But he knew better. He and Kiran needed no theatrics to prove anything to anyone. They had their bond, their training, and a purpose impelling them forward. That was sufficient.
A sharp horn sounded, drawing everyone's attention to the arena gates. Ragnar checked the schedule handed out at the entrance and saw that he was slated for the first match. Kiran's golden eyes gleamed with an understanding of what was to come, and Ragnar gave his loyal companion a reassuring nod.
They strode confidently to the waiting area, where Ragnar's opponent was pacing anxiously. The young tamer, a brash boy barely older than Ragnar himself, wore a forced grin, his massive armored beast—a boar-like creature that resembled an unstoppable battering ram—snorting and pawing restlessly at his side. The cocky boy flashed Ragnar a sneering smile as he eyed Kiran dismissively.
"Looks like this will be an easy victory," the boy boasted loudly, ensuring the nearby spectators caught his mocking words. Some chuckled nervously, while others regarded Ragnar with looks of sympathy.
Ragnar said nothing in response, maintaining a calm and focused gaze as he swiftly assessed his opponent and the opposing beast. The boar was undoubtedly powerful, with its hulking frame and razor-sharp tusks built for brutal close combat. However, Ragnar noticed telltale signs that it lacked speed and dexterity—a weakness Kiran could exploit with his agility and strategic intelligence.
The gates swung open and the roar of the eager crowd swelled around them as they entered the ring. Ragnar took up his position, Kiran standing alertly beside him, golden eyes fixed keenly on their foe. His mind raced through counters and possibilities, knowing each strategy must play to Kiran's natural strengths: swiftness, precision, and tactical strikes.
The booming voice of the announcer called for the match to begin. Ragnar signaled Kiran subtly with a slight hand gesture. Wasting no time, his opponent shrieked aggressively and commanded his beast to charge. The boar launched itself forward surprisingly fast for its size, gleaming tusks aimed to gore.
"Keep to the left, I'm moving right," Ragnar whispered hastily, though Kiran adjusted effortlessly, slinking around like a shadow. The viewers gasped as the boar missed by a significant margin, stumbling while attempting to regain its balance. Ragnar and Kiran didn't squander the opportunity. With a subtle hand gesture, Ragnar guided Kiran to encircle the creature, striking its susceptible flank.
Kiran lunged, their motions precise, landing a regulated hit on the boar's side. The beast staggered, unprepared for such rapid, calculated maneuvers. Ragnar observed as their opponent's expression shifted from smug assurance to annoyed disbelief.
"Stop fooling around! Get him!" the child yelled noisily, but their creature was already tiring, battling to keep up with Kiran's dexterity. Ragnar felt a surge of satisfaction yet kept their concentration steady. This was merely the start.
As the match continued, Ragnar and Kiran demonstrated an effortless harmony, anticipating each other's actions without words. It became evident to the viewers that their bond was distinctive—subtle yet strong, built on comprehension rather than force. Ragnar's opponent grew more desperate, yelling instructions in a frenzy, but their beast grew sluggish, each strike more reckless than the last.
Finally, Ragnar saw their opening. They gave Kiran the signal, and with a swift leap, Kiran maneuvered around the boar's defenses, landing a final blow that sent the beast crashing to the ground. Silence fell over the crowd for a brief moment before they erupted in applause, realizing that they had just witnessed a perfectly executed battle plan.
Ragnar's opponent could only stare, stunned at what had transpired. Ragnar offered a respectful nod before turning to exit the arena, Kiran at his side. The roar of the crowd echoed around them, though he showed no reaction, knowing this was merely one battle in a larger fight.
Once back in the chambers, he noticed many eyes upon him and Kiran, some filled with admiration while others gazed on cautiously. A few comrades from training spotted him and nodded in appreciation, even Lunar granting a small smile of recognition from her corner. Word of his prowess would spread he knew, but the hardest struggles were yet to come. Still, the thrill of victory and synergizing with Kiran left him more determined than before.
"Well done, Kiran," he said softly, running a hand along the wolf's head. Kiran responded with a low rumble, pressing into the touch as his fierce eyes softened with trust.
For the remainder of the day they watched from the edges, studying each opponent's unique techniques and identifying strengths or cracks that could be exploited. Ragnar paid close attention, filing away each observation as potential challenges loomed on the horizon. Though this was merely a beginning, with each contest passing his resolve to prove himself only grew more unyielding.
As the sun fell and the first day ended, Ragnar felt renewed conviction. He was not here simply to claim a title, but to reclaim his legacy, fortify his bond with Kiran, and remind all who he was destined to become. With their initial victory, he and Kiran had taken the first steps down a path from which there was no retreat.