The arena grew so crowded it felt as though it might explode from the sheer atmospheric pressure. Thousands—retired warriors, merchants, and mercenaries—had gathered for one thing: to witness a legend being forged. the air was thick with dust, heat, and the metallic scent of sweat and torch smoke. No one moved; instead, they leaned forward, eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and primal fear, their voices merging with the rhythmic thundering of drums that beat like the heart of a giant beast watching from the depths.
Novarion sat motionless, his eyes like unsheathed blades, every sense focused on the ring. His body was taut, yet perfectly controlled—a finely crafted killing machine. Beside him, Zayn attempted a mocking smirk to hide his tension, while Lina's breath came in ragged gasps, her hands trembling as she gripped her cloak.
Then, something shifted.
The western gate creaked open. A man clad in absolute black emerged, his long cloak brushing the sand and a metallic mask reflecting grim shadows. His footsteps were silent, as if treading upon the souls of the dead. The crowd fell into an eerie, forced silence. The aura surrounding Kreedon made the air turn cold; even the torch flames flickered low in his presence.
His first opponent stepped forward, swallowing hard in a desperate show of courage. It didn't last a second: a flash, a whistle of air, and a falling body. Blood soaked the sand as a sword clattered away with a cold, metallic ring.
Zayn gasped, "Good gods! My eyes couldn't even track him! Look at that speed!"
Novarion didn't blink, his voice heavy with realization: "It's not just speed… he is cutting through space itself. Every step, every strike is calculated."
Lina whispered, "That is Kreedon… the Dark Legend. They say no one who faces him ever returns the same. He tears the soul before the body."
From that moment on, the following duels were mere preludes. Every fighter who faced Kreedon left either as a corpse or with a broken spirit. Then, the announcer's voice boomed:
"The moment you have all waited for! In this corner, the rising prodigy who defied all odds… Novarion!"
The earth shook with the roar: "NO-VA-RION! NO-VA-RION!"
"And in the other corner… Darkness Incarnate, the man who knows no defeat… Kreedon!"
Novarion entered the ring with steady steps, his gaze locked solely on his opponent. Kreedon stood like a dark monolith, radiating silent terror.
"Watch closely, Lina," Zayn grinned sharply. "Today, we see the real Novarion. Every move, every strike."
The match began.
Kreedon vanished instantly, reappearing before Novarion with twin dark blades lunging like fangs. Novarion parried the first, pivoted to evade the second, and spun away from the third. Sparks flew, and sand sprayed into the air.
Novarion smiled. "Fast… but I am faster. You won't catch me with that."
He surged like a lightning bolt, appearing behind Kreedon, his blade glowing with vibrant blue energy: "God's Sword: Lightning!"
Kreedon twisted at an impossible angle, his blades clashing against the strike. The air exploded like a thunderclap.
"Good… good," Kreedon's voice was dead and hollow. "But it is not enough."
The deadly dance commenced. Blades collided with such force they shook the ground. The crowd screamed in frenzy as if watching gods at war. Novarion leaped high, lightning coating his frame, and brought down a vertical strike capable of shattering a fortress. Kreedon blocked, the ground beneath his feet cracking and the back wall fracturing from the shockwave.
"You… are a monster," Kreedon exhaled.
"More than you can imagine," Novarion replied coldly.
The battle raged on—dozens of exchanges, each stronger than the last. Finally, the decisive moment arrived. Novarion retreated, raising his sword as his energy ignited like a volcano. Lightning and Flame coalesced around him, making the very air scream.
"The End!" Novarion roared.
He moved at the speed of light. His strike shattered Kreedon's defense, slamming him into the ground. Dust filled the arena. Silence hung for a heartbeat before the announcer's trembling voice broke through:
"The winner… NO-VA-RION!"
The stadium erupted. Amidst the chaos, Novarion reached out his hand to the masked man. Kreedon looked up, took the hand, and stood.
"You are stronger than I anticipated," Kreedon said with a new shred of respect. "I cannot wait to see what you become."
Novarion nodded calmly. "As am I. The next encounters
will only be more thrilling."