Jason forced himself upright on unsteady legs. Every joint protested. Blood still trickled from the cut on his scalp and the corner of his mouth, and his vision swam at the edges, but he stayed on his feet. The sight of him refusing to stay down seemed to push Todd past the last of his restraint.
"Why can't you just forfeit and get treatment?" Todd demanded, voice tight with genuine anger. "You're already finished."
Jason wiped blood from his lips with the back of one scraped hand. "This is the only real chance I have to provide for my family. If anyone should quit because they can't continue, it should be you."
Todd's face darkened. "You're asking to die. I'll help you if that's what you want."
"Then do it," Jason answered, breath ragged but steady. "I'm not giving this up—even if it costs me my life."
"Don't blame me for what happens next."
Todd's body hardened visibly as spiritual energy flooded his limbs. He vanished forward in a burst of speed, but instead of striking Jason directly he drove both fists into the packed earth at the center of the arena. The ground convulsed. A violent shockwave erupted outward, lifting Jason off his feet and hurling him toward the edge of the ring. He slammed down hard, skidding, and came to rest only a short distance from the boundary line, chest heaving.
*That's it, kid,* the bracelet said, calm and focused. *He's burning through the last of his reserves. Hold on a little longer and the fight is yours.*
Jason pushed himself onto one knee, one hand braced against the dirt. *I can feel it. He has maybe three or four big attacks left. But every one of them still hits like a hammer.*
Todd saw him rising again and let out a raw, frustrated roar. He charged, fists swinging with everything he had left.
"Just drop your damn pride and give up!"
Blow after heavy blow landed. Jason's guard crumbled under the barrage; punches cracked against his arms, his ribs, the side of his face. The crowd's noise split in two—some voices rising in pity, others, clustered around Andrew and Dennis, openly pleased.
"Boss, that outsider won't walk right for a month after this," Dennis said, smiling.
Andrew watched with cold satisfaction. "I still don't understand why he hasn't yielded. Stubbornness won't save his bones."
Two rows from the front Hannah's eyes filled with tears. She half-rose from her seat, ready to run toward the arena, when the sound of impacts suddenly stopped. The entire square went quiet. She turned back in time to see Todd's right fist locked motionless in mid-air, caught cleanly by Jason's hand. A wide, disbelieving smile broke across her face as she dropped back into her seat.
"Mother—did you see that? Big brother can still fight!"
Clara's own expression softened with quiet pride. "I told you it would take more than this to make him quit."
In the better seats Andrew's earlier satisfaction vanished. Dennis stared.
"I thought he was completely empty. How is he still moving?"
Andrew's jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter. No one takes that much damage and still turns a fight around."
On the platform Todd looked more shocked than anyone. He had felt every ounce of force he had poured into the beating; he knew exactly how much punishment the outsider had absorbed. Yet the hand gripping his fist was steady, and the eyes meeting his were clear.
Jason's mouth curved. "Don't you think you've had enough fun for one day?"
Todd's voice came out strained. "How do you still have energy left?"
"That's my secret." Jason shoved the trapped fist aside and rose fully to his feet, swaying only once. "Now it's my turn."
*About time,* the bracelet said, almost cheerful. *He's been enjoying himself. Add a little spice and finish it.*
Jason flexed his fingers, feeling the Invisible Iron Fist coating settle into place around both hands. "I'm not interested in dragging this out. I'll end it quickly and go get treatment before I actually die."
Todd's face twisted with humiliation and residual fury. He reached into his robe and pulled a short dagger, the blade catching the afternoon light.
"If you think I'll lose to an outsider like you, you're dreaming."
A murmur of genuine concern moved through the spectators.
"This is going too far. He's letting anger drive him."
"That kid might not walk away if this continues."
Jason's gaze stayed level. "You still want to keep going when you already know how this ends?"
Todd ignored the words and lunged, dagger flashing toward Jason's midsection. He never completed the thrust. Jason stepped inside the arc of the blade and drove a fully coated fist into Todd's stomach with every remaining scrap of strength and precision he possessed.
The impact was deep and final. Todd's eyes went wide. A thick mouthful of blood left him as his body folded. He collapsed forward and did not move again.
Jason stood over him for a moment, then simply sat down hard on the packed earth, legs no longer willing to hold him. The officiating elder moved in quickly, checked Todd's pulse and breathing, and signaled for attendants. When he straightened, his voice carried across the sudden quiet of the square.
"Winner—Jason McCray."
Jason let his head drop forward, a thin, bloodied smile still on his face as the reality of the victory settled over the pain. One more step taken. The tournament was far from over, but for the first time since he had stepped onto the platform, the path forward felt open.