In the Paragon world, people possess special traits. Unique ways they use their abilities that others simply cannot copy. Some call it Bloodline power. Most times, it isn't that simple.
In Clifford's case, it was both.
Clifford did not just use qi differently. He sensed energy differently. Qi, mana, anything that flowed, he could feel it, read it, and touch it in ways others could not.
His Bloodline ability allowed him to create a link to a source of energy, even against its will, and begin draining from it.
But there was a limit.
The energy he drained was not his to use. He could not keep it. He could only Reflect it or send it back to the source.
That restriction shaped how he fought.
It forced control. Precision. Timing.
Because of that, Clifford trained his sensing ability to an extreme level. He learned to read energy like a trail. The flow, the pattern, the texture, even the faint "feel" of it.
Once he had felt your energy before, he could find you again.
Qi or mana, it did not matter.
"I… I knew I shouldn't have trusted your skills blindly," Gavalich muttered, his voice tight as he stared at the creatures ahead.
"There is no time for complaining!" Clifford snapped, his focus locked forward.
The response came fast.
The werebears moved.
One step. Then another.
Then they charged.
The snow exploded under their weight as they rushed forward, their massive bodies cutting through the field with raw force.
Clifford had already made his move.
One of the werebears was marked.
A thin, almost invisible thread of energy connected him to it.
The link tightened.
The drain began.
However, the beast still moved.
It kicked off the snow with force and lunged toward Clifford, its body dragging forward like something being pulled by rage alone.
Roar!!!
'Shit…!' Clifford cursed inwardly.
He reacted on instinct.
He pushed off the ground and leaped to the side just as the werebear's claws came down. The strike tore through the space where he had been a moment ago and slammed into the snow with a heavy impact, sending white powder bursting outward.
Clifford landed and slid, his boots digging into the snow to steady himself.
'I didn't expect it to still have this much strength after what I drained,' he thought, his eyes narrowing.
The drain was working.
But not fast enough.
The werebear turned again, its head snapping toward him. Its eyes locked on.
It had found him.
Clifford didn't hesitate this time.
He shifted his stance, feet firm despite the unstable ground, his body tightening as he prepared to strike back.
He had timing.
He had the link.
He could act—
Then it hit.
A sudden force slammed into his side before he could move.
No warning.
No time to react.
Blood burst from his mouth as his eyes widened in shock. His body was lifted off the ground and sent rolling across the snow, tumbling like he had no weight at all.
'I was hit… another one…'
The thought came late.
Too late.
He forced his body to turn as he rolled, trying to face forward again, but the damage was already done.
He had focused on one.
And forgot the rest.
By the time he steadied himself, both werebears were already moving.
Closing in.
Fast.
Clifford pushed himself up, his breathing uneven now, pain spreading through his side.
'That should have taken me out…' he thought.
His fingers tightened slightly.
'Good thing I have the ring.'
The impact had been heavy. Heavy enough to crush bones. Heavy enough to end the fight right there.
But he was still here.
Still conscious.
Still able to move.
There was no pain from the strike that had just landed on him, and Clifford knew exactly why.
The ring.
It dulled everything. The shock, the damage, even the warning signs his body should have been screaming at him.
He pushed himself up quickly, not wasting a second, even as blood continued to run down from the claw mark at his side. The injury was there. Real. Deep. But he ignored it.
His eyes locked onto the werebears rushing him again.
A slight twist formed on his face, not fear, not panic, something sharper.
Focus.
Then his hands moved.
Fast.
Controlled.
He formed a series of signs, his fingers shifting with precision as he forced his qi into shape.
'With this ring… I should be able to hold two links,' he thought.
That was the limit he was about to test.
Meanwhile, Gavalich had his own problem.
As two of the beasts pressed Clifford, the rest turned toward him.
He counted quickly.
Seven.
Two already engaged.
Five left.
And all five were coming straight at him.
'I thought bears don't move in packs…' Gavalich thought, his jaw tightening.
There was no time to question it.
One of the werebears lunged first, its claws cutting down toward him, and the rest followed right after, their movements overlapping, not clean, not coordinated, but overwhelming in number.
Gavalich didn't strike back.
He couldn't.
Not yet.
He moved.
One step to the side.
A sharp pull backward.
A quick shift forward to avoid another claw that came from behind.
He twisted his body, knocking one strike away with his arm, then ducked as another passed just above his head.
Snow burst under his feet as he adjusted again, his movements tight, reactive, forced.
'I don't have the same ring as Clifford…' he thought, his breathing starting to rise.
Another claw came in.
He slipped it by inches.
'If one of those lands properly, I'm going to feel everything…'
The cold.The tearing. The damage.
'Just like I feel this damn cold…'
He pushed off the ground again, creating space for a moment, but it didn't last.
And unlike Clifford, Gavalich couldn't afford even a single mistake.
Gavalich knew he couldn't keep dodging forever.
He was a stage three warrior. Strong for his level. Skilled enough to hold his own in most fights.
But this—
This was not a normal fight.
This was a pack of werebears.
And numbers like that changed everything.
A claw finally got through.
It raked across his back.
The force behind it threw him forward, his body losing balance as pain flared sharp and sudden.
"Argh—!"
He hit the snow and rolled, the cold surface biting into him as he tumbled.
He didn't stop.
He couldn't.
Right behind him, a set of jaws snapped shut where his head had just been, teeth crashing together with a brutal sound.
Too close.
Way too close.
He forced qi into his legs and blasted himself off the ground, pushing forward instead of retreating.
If he stayed surrounded, he was done.
So he charged.
Straight at one of them.
The werebear reacted fast, its head snapping down as its jaws opened wide, aiming to bite him mid-move.
Gavalich didn't slow.
He drove his fist forward, qi wrapping tightly around it.
The punch landed hard against the beast's jaw.
A solid hit.
The impact snapped its head to the side and shifted its balance just enough.
Not damage.
But space.
That was all he needed.
He stepped in.
Closed the distance.
Another werebear swiped at him from the side.
He bent low, the claw passing just above his back, close enough for him to feel the air cut.
Then he struck.
Two quick jabs into the creature's abdomen, each one packed with qi.
Thud. Thud.
The hits landed clean.
But the result—
Minimal.
The beast barely reacted beyond a low growl.
'Tch… not enough,' he thought, already moving again.
He stepped out quickly, shifting his position before another attack could land.
A claw came from behind.
He twisted aside.
The strike missed him—
And hit another werebear instead.
The claws tore into thick fur and flesh.
A burst of dark red blood sprayed out, hot and heavy, splashing across Gavalich's face.
He didn't stop.
Didn't even wipe it.
He kept moving, his body flowing from one motion to the next, dodging, stepping, turning, keeping just ahead of the next hit.
'These things are beasts…' he thought, his breathing steady but tight.
'They're stronger… tougher… faster than me…'
Another claw came.
He slipped it.
Barely.
'But they're not thinking…'
He shifted again, letting one overextend, watching how the others followed without control.
'And that…'
His eyes sharpened as he adjusted his stance again, already reading the next movement.
'That's where I win.'
Beasts were naturally stronger than humans. Even against someone at the same stage, sometimes even a higher one, they held the advantage in raw power, durability, and instinct.
That was a fact everyone knew.
But there was another fact.
Humans ruled.
Not because they were stronger.
Because they thought.
That was the edge.
That was the difference.
And right now, that was all Gavalich had.
As the thought ran through his mind, he moved.
A claw came down at him.
He reacted instantly, knocking it upward with force, Reflecting the strike just enough to break its path. The motion left the werebear's chest open for a brief second.
That was his window.
The beast snapped its jaw forward.
Gavalich stepped in instead of back.
He swung his fist with everything he had, qi wrapping tight around his arm as he drove the punch straight into the creature's jaw.
The impact landed clean.
His whole body followed through, weight, force, everything behind that strike.
The werebear's head snapped to the side, its massive frame shifting as it was thrown off balance and pushed sideways across the snow.
Not dead.
Not even close.
But dazed.
That alone was something.
For a brief second, Gavalich had space.
But not enough.
A shadow moved behind him.
Too late.
Before he could fully turn, a massive jaw snapped shut.
Right at his head.
His instincts kicked in at the last moment.
He forced his body to move, twisting with everything he had.
Just enough.
The bite missed his head—
And slammed into his shoulder.
CRUNCH.
"Aaahhh!!"
The pain exploded instantly, raw and sharp, tearing through him as the werebear's teeth sank deep, clamping down with brutal force.
It wasn't a clean bite.
It was worse.
It held.
Pressed.
Threatened to crush everything in its grip.
Gavalich's body shook as he tried to pull away, his muscles straining, his breath breaking.
'Move… move… MOVE…!'
His vision flickered for a second as the pain surged again.
Then—
A prompt appeared.
Clear.
Cold.
Unfeeling.
[Your health is decreasing.]
[Do you want to quit the tournament?]
A system message flashed in front of Gavalich, faint and shaking, but he didn't have the luxury to read it. Not now. Not with a jaw still clamped on his shoulder and more shadows closing in around him.
The other werebears had already recovered. Their heavy bodies shifted through the snow, circling back in. This time, there was no hesitation. Each one moved with intent, heads low, jaws opening, all aiming for flesh they could tear apart.
Gavalich's breathing turned rough. His vision blurred at the edges.
'Move… move…!' he forced himself, but his body lagged behind the command.
Then something changed.
Two massive figures dropped from above.
Bang!
They crashed straight into the charging werebears, knocking them off course and slamming them into the snow. The impact was heavy, raw, enough to shake the ground beneath.
Gavalich's attacker loosened for a split second, just enough.
At the same time, the snow under them began to shift.
It wasn't natural.
A ripple moved through the ground, fast, like something was tunneling beneath. Then—
Boom!
The snow exploded upward in a violent burst, blasting everything apart. White powder and chunks of ice filled the air, swallowing the scene in chaos.
The werebears were thrown back, their large bodies rolling across the ground. The one biting Gavalich lost its grip completely as both of them were sent flying in opposite directions.
Gavalich's body lifted off the ground, spinning, weightless for a moment.
Before he could crash into the snow, a hand caught him mid-air.
Firm. Controlled.
He didn't even need to look twice.
It was Clifford.