"Are you done? My turn."
As Dean uttered those words, Sean felt a chill pierce through his spine. The air around the arena turned heavy, thick with unspoken danger. Sean barely had time to react before Dean's fist blurred through the air.
**BANG!**
A devastating punch landed square on Sean's chest, sending him hurtling backward like a ragdoll. The force knocked the air from his lungs, a sharp pain rippling through his ribs. He hit the edge of the arena with a bone-rattling thud, gasping for breath as his vision swam.
**"Get up."**
Dean's voice was cold, almost mechanical, yet it carried a rage so dark it made Sean's knees quake. Looking up, he met Dean's piercing blue eyes. They were now shadowed with fury, glowing like darkened embers, promising annihilation.
Sean's heart thundered with fear, but defiance flared within him. He knew that if it weren't for the arena's rules, that punch alone would have killed him. Even so, his legs trembled as he fought to stand, a testament to sheer will rather than strength.
He barely managed to balance himself before—
**SHUA!**
Dean vanished in a blur, reappearing with a ruthless punch that buried itself in Sean's stomach.
**SPLAT!**
A mouthful of blood spilled from Sean's lips as he crumpled to his knees, clutching his abdomen. Pain screamed through every nerve, his lungs felt aflame, and his vision began to blur. The stadium fell silent, the air tense with unease. Even the spectators—once filled with contempt—watched in stunned horror.
"Too brutal..." someone whispered, their voice drowned in the oppressive quiet.
Sean's battered form twitched as he gritted his teeth. Shaking hands pushed against the blood-slick floor, his body screaming in protest. He staggered to his feet, swaying like a dying ember in the wind. Despite the agony, Sean raised his head, his bloodshot eyes locking onto Dean.
He smiled.
It was faint, almost imperceptible, but to Dean, it was a mocking grin—a taunt to his pride. Fury ignited within him.
With a guttural roar, Dean charged forward, fists flying.
**BAM! BAM! BAM!**
Punch after punch rained down, each blow more savage than the last. Blood sprayed across the arena, staining the ground in crimson streaks. Sean's body was now little more than a canvas for Dean's wrath. The crowd winced, some turning away, unable to stomach the sight.
But even as Sean fell to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth and ears, he didn't beg. He didn't yield. His resolve burned through his broken form like a silent protest against the overwhelming odds.
His mind flickered to memories of his family—his mother's warm embrace, his father's steady gaze. Tears mixed with the blood on his face as the images grew brighter in his fading consciousness.
And then, silence.
Sean took one last, ragged breath before his body went limp.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The principal, a peak E-rank combatant, frowned as he scanned Sean's still form. There was no aura—no pulse.
Sean was dead.
Or so it seemed.
While the crowd mourned or muttered in shock, something stirred within Sean's lifeless body. A faint, ominous crack echoed, originating from his heart. Fissures spread across the organ, black as night, until—
**BOOM!**
Darkness exploded outward, seeping into Sean's body like an ethereal fog. The temperature in the arena plummeted.
"Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?" a student whispered, his teeth chattering.
Eyes turned to Sean's body as a black flame flickered to life around him, faint at first but growing with intensity.
The Chi in the atmosphere swirled violently, forming a cyclone above Sean's body. It grew, towering higher and higher until it touched the arena ceiling. The sheer pressure of it left everyone rooted in place, their instincts screaming danger.
And then—
**BOOM!**
The cyclone imploded, scattering energy in a shockwave that rattled the arena. When the dust settled, Sean was no longer lying on the ground.
He floated.
His body hovered a few inches above the stage, encased in roaring black flames. His torn, bloodied clothes clung to his form, but all wounds had vanished. His black hair now cascaded down his back, shimmering as though touched by the void itself.
Slowly, Sean's eyes opened.
The black flames roared higher, feeding off the energy around them. A dragon-shaped curse mark spiraled up his right arm, its tendrils snaking to his cheek like living ink. His once gentle blue eyes were now abyssal, brimming with malice.
The crowd froze as a suffocating wave of killing intent flooded the arena. Even the principal, seasoned and battle-hardened, felt a faint tremor of fear. Dean stood frozen, drenched in sweat, his lips trembling as he fought the urge to collapse.
Sean turned his head toward Dean, his gaze locking onto him with deadly precision.
The silence was deafening.
And then Sean spoke. His voice was deep, distorted, carrying an unearthly resonance that sent shivers down every spine.
"You shouldn't have done that ."
The arena erupted into chaos as the flames around Sean surged, and for the first time, Dean realized the true meaning of terror.