The Crimson Arena loomed ahead, its towering stone walls bathed in the morning sun. Banners swayed in the wind, carrying the insignia of the tournament—two swords crossed over a blood-red crescent. The streets were packed, filled with merchants shouting deals, gamblers exchanging coin, and warriors sharpening their blades.
Aetheron kept his hood low as he walked toward the arena entrance. The weight of his decision settled in his chest, but there was no turning back now.
Aria walked beside him, her usual smirk in place. "So, what's the plan? Beat up a few guys, make it to the finals, then vanish into the night?"
Aetheron glanced at her. "Something like that."
She chuckled. "You do realize half the people here have been training since birth, right? Some of them are from elite families, royal bloodlines. You? You're just some guy with a big secret."
Aetheron sighed. "Thanks for the confidence boost."
Aria shrugged. "Just making sure you know what you're up against."
They reached the entrance, where a line of participants waited to be registered. The guards—towering men clad in heavy armor—checked each warrior's name before allowing them inside.
As Aetheron stepped forward, one of the guards stopped him. "No emblem?"
"He's in the preliminaries," Aria answered before Aetheron could. "Commoners get tested first, right?"
The guard grunted, then waved him through. "Try not to die too quickly."
Aetheron didn't respond, stepping past the gate into the coliseum grounds. The inside was even more massive than it looked from the outside—stone walkways leading to different battle zones, training pits filled with fighters testing their strength, and in the center, the grand arena where only the strongest would fight.
A large board displayed the names of preliminary matches. Aetheron scanned the list until he found his.
Match 3 – Aetheron vs. Korrin the Iron Fist
"Never heard of him," Aria said, peering over his shoulder.
"Doesn't matter," Aetheron replied. "They all hit the same when they're unconscious."
Aria laughed. "That's the spirit."
The matches began quickly. The preliminary rounds were brutal—no rules, no restrictions. Only the last fighter standing advanced.
The first match was over in less than a minute. A massive warrior crushed his opponent's ribs with a single blow. The second match took longer, ending when a dual-wielding rogue drove his dagger through his enemy's leg.
Then, it was Aetheron's turn.
The crowd roared as he stepped into the ring. Across from him stood Korrin—a giant of a man, bald, shirtless, his muscles thick like steel cables. His fists were wrapped in iron chains, and the way he cracked his knuckles sent a clear message.
He was used to breaking people.
Aetheron rolled his shoulders, exhaling slowly. He couldn't reveal his ability—not yet. He had to fight like a normal warrior.
Korrin grinned, raising his fists. "You look fragile, kid. Maybe I'll leave you in one piece if you beg."
Aetheron didn't respond. The announcer's voice boomed through the arena.
"Match 3—BEGIN!"
Korrin lunged.
Fast. Too fast for a man his size.
Aetheron barely dodged as a fist slammed into the ground where he had been standing. The stone cracked under the force.
No hesitation. Aetheron countered with a sharp kick to the ribs. Korrin barely flinched. Instead, he grabbed Aetheron's leg and yanked—hard.
Aetheron hit the ground, air rushing from his lungs.
Korrin lifted a fist, aiming to crush him.
Move.
Aetheron rolled just as the iron-wrapped fist slammed down, sending a shockwave through the arena floor. Dust and stone fragments flew into the air.
The crowd cheered.
Aetheron sprang to his feet, assessing his opponent. Korrin was strong. Too strong for a normal human. Either he had a reinforced body ability or something close to it.
Aetheron needed to end this fast.
Korrin charged again. This time, Aetheron met him head-on, ducking under a wide swing and driving his knee into the giant's stomach.
Korrin grunted but didn't go down. Instead, he swung his elbow, catching Aetheron's side. Pain exploded through his ribs.
Aetheron staggered, but before Korrin could press the attack, he twisted into a spinning kick, striking Korrin's temple.
The giant stumbled.
Aetheron didn't stop. He stepped in, delivering a rapid series of strikes—body, ribs, throat. Each hit was precise, targeted.
Korrin roared and swung again. Aetheron barely dodged, feeling the wind of the blow pass inches from his face.
Then he saw it—Korrin's stance was too open.
Aetheron feinted left, then drove his fist straight into Korrin's chin with all his strength.
A sharp crack.
Korrin's head snapped back. His massive body wavered for a moment.
Then he collapsed like a felled tree.
Silence.
Then, an eruption of cheers.
Aetheron exhaled, shaking the pain from his hand. He looked down at Korrin's unconscious form.
"I win."
The announcer's voice rang through the arena.
"Winner—Aetheron!"
The gates opened, and he stepped out of the ring. Aria was waiting, arms crossed, a smirk on her lips.
"Not bad."
Aetheron rubbed his ribs. "Could've gone better."
She shrugged. "You won. That's what matters."
Aetheron glanced back at the ring, where Korrin was being dragged away. This was only the beginning. Stronger fighters were coming.
And soon, he'd have no choice but to reveal what he really was.