Jason and Todd stood a few paces apart on the packed earth, waiting for the elder to step clear of the ring. Jason's shoulders were tight. He had watched Todd's first-round fight against Oliver in detail—the clean counters, the patience, the way Todd waited for a single opening and then ended it. This would not be an easy match.
*Don't overthink it, kid,* the bracelet said inside his mind. *Land one clean punch or kick and the fight is yours.*
*I know that,* Jason answered silently. *The problem is surviving long enough to land it. How am I supposed to block someone who hits like that?*
*That's your problem. Or did you expect me to take the damage for you?*
*I wouldn't say no if you offered.*
*Unfortunately I can't. Try not to get hit in the face. It tends to look bad for the audience.*
Jason scowled internally. *When this is over, you and I are going to have a long talk about your sense of humor.*
He never finished the thought.
"Take this!"
Todd's fist was already in motion. Jason had been half-focused on the bracelet and reacted a fraction late. He crossed both forearms in front of his chest and took the full force of the punch head-on. The impact traveled up his arms like a hammer blow. He was driven backward several steps, boots scraping deep furrows in the dirt. Pain flared through his wrists and elbows. Sweat sprang across his forehead as he rubbed his forearms, fighting to keep any expression of weakness from reaching his face. He would not give the crowd the satisfaction of seeing him look broken after a single exchange.
A surprised murmur moved through the spectators.
"He took a clean hit from Todd and he's still standing. No formal training either."
"The outsider's tougher than he looks."
*That's the spirit,* the bracelet said. *Now you know how hard he hits. Eat a few more if you have to, then finish him when the opening appears.*
*Eat his punches?* Jason shot back, still flexing his stinging hands. *Easy for you to say. You're not the one whose arms are going numb.*
Todd's expression had darkened. He had expected the first heavy blow to put the outsider on the defensive or on the ground. Instead Jason was simply standing there, rubbing his arms, as though the exchange had been merely inconvenient. The implication that he was being taken lightly lit a visible anger in Todd's eyes. His aura thickened, the air around him growing heavier. Jason felt the shift as a sudden crawl of goosebumps along both arms. He looked up and found Todd staring at him the way a predator stares at something it has decided to break.
"Shit," Jason muttered under his breath. "It's about to get serious."
He settled into a proper stance.
Todd did not wait. Jason, unwilling to stay purely reactive, drove forward first and threw a straight right. Todd slipped it cleanly, the punch cutting empty air, and answered with a short, vicious hook into Jason's midsection. The air left Jason's lungs in a sharp grunt. Before he could fold protectively around the pain, Todd was already behind him. A powerful kick slammed into the center of his back and launched him forward. Jason hit the ground hard enough to drive the breath from him a second time, skidding across the dirt and leaving a shallow depression where his body finally stopped.
In the seats Andrew leaned forward with open satisfaction.
"This is more like it. Let's see if he walks away in one piece."
Dennis nodded. "I doubt he'll have much left after that. Even I wouldn't want to take a kick like that clean."
"Which is why I'm glad your brother won't be the one doing the damage," Andrew replied, eyes never leaving the arena. "This is cleaner."
Two rows from the front Hannah had both hands pressed to her mouth. "Is big brother going to be okay?"
Clara's voice was quiet but steady. "It will take more than that to put your brother down, Hannah. Keep watching."
On the platform Jason pushed himself out of the shallow crater his fall had made. Blood ran in a thin line from his hairline down the side of his face. He spat dirt, rose fully, and met Todd's eyes.
"I never looked down on you," he said, voice rough but clear. "This is exactly how I want to fight—nothing held back."
Todd's smile was sharp. "Good. Because I'm done holding back either."
He charged.
Jason was ready this time. His full attention locked on Todd's movement while spiritual energy flooded into both fists and both legs, Invisible Iron Fist coating and Phantom Kick pathways awakening together. He waited for the smallest opening, the moment Todd's guard shifted. Instead Todd executed a sudden, deceptive change of direction—almost a vanishing step—and disappeared from Jason's forward vision. Pain exploded at the base of Jason's skull. The world tilted. He pitched forward and hit the ground face-first, the taste of dirt and blood filling his mouth.
Todd stood over him, breathing evenly.
"You're outmatched. Yield before this gets permanent."
Jason's fingers dug into the earth. He forced his arms under him and pushed upward, vision swimming. "Do your worst. I'm not quitting."
Anger flashed across Todd's face. He turned toward the officiating elder.
"Elder, end the match. If we continue he could be seriously hurt."
The elder's expression remained impassive. "As long as the combatant has not forfeited and remains conscious inside the ring, the match continues."
Todd's jaw tightened. He turned back to Jason, who was still struggling to rise.
"Then I'll put you out of the ring myself."
He started forward again, intent clear in every step.