The echoes of his victory over Valtor still lingered in the Hollow Den. Fighters and spectators alike eyed him differently now—not as some nameless upstart, but as a real contender. He had survived an assassination attempt disguised as a match, and in doing so, he had changed the game.
Yet, the weight of that realization settled uncomfortably on his shoulders.
Back at the hideout, Callen, Mira, and Finn sat around the dying embers of their fire. The mood was tense. Victory should have been sweet, but instead, it felt like a warning.
"You just painted a target on your back," Mira muttered, breaking the silence. "People don't like it when someone shakes up the order."
He exhaled, rolling his bruised shoulder. "They wanted me gone. I gave them an answer."
Callen nodded. "And now you have their attention. Fighters, bettors, and worse—the ones who pull the strings."
Finn fidgeted. "What do we do now?"
Mira glanced at him. "Now? Now we figure out what comes next."
[Quest Updated: Survive the Arena's Politics – Identify the Threats]
The next morning, he woke to a message.
A slip of parchment tucked under the door. No signature. Just four words:
"Meet me at dusk."
His gut tightened. This wasn't a challenge. It was something else. An invitation? A warning? He didn't know.
He showed it to Mira and Callen.
"Could be a trap," Callen said, rubbing his chin. "Could be an opportunity."
Mira scoffed. "In Black Hollow, those are the same thing."
He clenched his fists. "I'm going."
Mira rolled her eyes. "Of course you are."
Dusk arrived too quickly. He made his way to the meeting spot—a secluded section of the Hollow Den, away from prying eyes. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, ale, and tension.
A hooded figure waited, leaning against a stone pillar.
"I was starting to think you wouldn't show," the voice was smooth, controlled.
He took a careful step forward. "You left the message. Who are you?"
The figure chuckled, pushing back their hood. A woman. Older than him, but not by much. Sharp eyes, quick movements—dangerous.
"My name is Kaela," she said. "And I'm here to offer you a choice."
[Survival Instinct Activated: Unclear Intentions Detected]
His muscles tensed. "What kind of choice?"
Kaela studied him. "You've made a name for yourself. That comes with risks. But it also comes with power. You just need the right people to back you."
"People like you?" he asked.
She smirked. "People who see potential."
Mira's words echoed in his mind—not everything in Black Hollow is what it seems.
"What do you want?" he pressed.
Kaela stepped closer. "To see if you're worth investing in."
He didn't flinch. "And if I'm not?"
She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "Then I suppose we part ways."
He exhaled slowly. This was bigger than just fighting in the pit. This was about control. Influence. He had fought to survive. Now, he had to decide what kind of fighter he wanted to become.
[Quest Updated: Choose a Path – Align with Power or Remain Independent]
The choice was his.
And for the first time since he had entered the arena, the future was in his hands.