The weight of Finn's words lingered long after the conversation ended. Someone wanted him dead. Not beaten. Not humiliated. Dead.
Back at the hideout, he paced, fists clenched. Callen and Mira sat nearby, watching him in silence. Finn sat cross-legged, his usual lighthearted demeanor gone.
"Valtor is dangerous," Mira finally said. "He's fought in the arena for years. He's killed before."
Callen nodded. "And if someone paid him, it means they expect him to finish the job."
He exhaled, forcing his hands to unclench. Fear wouldn't help him. Action would. "Then I need to be ready."
[Quest Updated: Defeat Valtor – High Risk Encounter]
Mira tilted her head. "You don't win against Valtor by being strong. You win by being smart."
Callen folded his arms. "You need to learn how he fights. His patterns. His weaknesses."
Finn's face brightened slightly. "I can help with that. I know people who've seen him fight."
He turned to Finn. "Find out everything you can."
The next day, training took on a new level of intensity.
Mira made him fight with weighted gauntlets to build endurance. Every movement was slower, more exhausting. Every mistake was punished. His legs burned from dodging, his arms ached from blocking.
"You have to be faster," she barked. "You have to see the attack before it comes."
[Adaptive Growth: Increased Evasion Speed]
Callen focused on his striking—teaching him to exploit weak points, to make every hit count.
"Precision over power," Callen instructed. "You won't outmatch Valtor in strength. But if you break him piece by piece, you can win."
By the time training ended, his body was a mass of bruises, but his movements were sharper. More controlled.
He would be ready.
That night, Finn returned with news.
"I found someone who fought Valtor," Finn said, eyes darting around as if making sure no one else could hear. "He's ruthless. He lets his opponents tire themselves out. Then he moves in for the kill."
Mira frowned. "He forces mistakes."
Finn nodded. "And he's fast. Faster than most fighters his size."
Callen stroked his chin. "That means you can't let him control the pace."
He took a deep breath. "Then I'll have to make him play by my rules."
Fight night arrived, and the Hollow Den was more crowded than ever. Word had spread. People knew this wasn't just a match. This was an execution waiting to happen.
Garrik met him at the entrance, his expression unreadable. "You don't have to do this."
He met Garrik's gaze evenly. "I do."
A slow nod. "Then fight smart."
The pit felt different this time. The moment he stepped in, he felt the tension in the air. Valtor stood across from him, his body lean but powerful. Scars traced his arms, his knuckles wrapped tight. He was older, experienced. A predator waiting to strike.
The crowd hushed as Garrik raised his hand. "Begin."
Valtor didn't move. He simply watched. Calculating.
[Survival Instinct Activated: Opponent Danger Level – Very High]
He took a step forward, testing. Valtor shifted just slightly. A reaction. He was waiting.
He feinted left, then pivoted. A test. Valtor didn't take the bait.
Then Valtor struck.
Fast. Too fast. A sharp jab clipped his shoulder, followed by a low kick that swept his leg. He barely rolled away in time.
[Pain Tolerance Slightly Increased]
The crowd roared. Valtor smirked. "You're already playing my game."
No. He couldn't let that happen.
He forced himself up, shaking off the pain. He needed to change the rhythm. Control the pace.
This time, he didn't attack. He circled, forcing Valtor to move. The older fighter frowned slightly, but followed.
Then he saw it. A slight hitch in Valtor's step. A weakness.
He lunged forward—not to strike, but to pressure. Valtor moved back, adjusting.
He struck. A sharp feint, followed by a real attack to Valtor's ribs.
Valtor blocked, but he saw it now. The hesitation. The doubt.
[Adaptive Growth: Combat Reading Improved]
The fight continued, but the tide had shifted. Valtor was still fast, still dangerous. But now, he wasn't in control.
Then the opening came.
A final exchange. Valtor moved in for the kill. A strike aimed at his jaw. But he was ready.
He dodged. Countered. A brutal hook to the temple.
Valtor staggered.
Another strike. A knee to the ribs.
Valtor fell.
Silence. Then the crowd erupted.
[Quest Completed: Defeat Valtor and Survive]
Garrik stepped forward, eyes studying him carefully. Then he nodded. "You've done more than win."
He exhaled, chest heaving. He had survived.
But the war wasn't over.
Because now, he had everyone's attention.