The moment the names echoed across the arena, the spectators leaned forward in anticipation. This wasn't just another trial round. It was a clash between powerful contenders—a bout long awaited.
As the four stepped onto the battlefield, Michael tightened his fists, glancing briefly toward Torren. His friend gave a short nod, then turned his gaze toward Katsu. There was no need for words. They had already decided how to split the fight.
Michael turned his attention to Renald, who was rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles.
"Looks like I get the weakling," Renald muttered loud enough for Michael to hear.
"You won't be saying that for long," Michael replied, his tone steady.
The moment the trial started, Michael rushed forward, wasting no time. He wasn't going to hold back this time. Renald welcomed the charge, stepping in to meet Michael head-on. The two collided in a flurry of fists.
Renald struck first, but Michael blocked and countered quickly. His hands glowed faintly—his heat already rising. He could feel the fire magic ready to surface.
Renald's technique focused on close-range aggression, enhanced by magic-infused strikes. His fists didn't emit flames, but the sheer power in them could be felt.
Michael, however, was faster. More precise. Each time Renald attempted to land a blow, Michael would slip under or around it, landing a hard strike to Renald's ribs or arms. The heat in his fists burned Renald's skin with each punch.
"Damn it! What the hell did he eat to become this strong?" Renald muttered, stepping back after another hit.
Michael advanced again, using the basics he'd mastered. Every motion was fluid. Every strike, purposeful. His opponent had underestimated him—and now he was paying for it.
"Don't get cocky!" Renald barked and swung again. Michael dodged, then countered with a flaming punch that hit Renald square in the chest, pushing him back.
Renald gasped.
Michael stepped forward, relentless.
Steam poured from his hands, a result of the fire magic now boiling within his limbs.
"Let me show you what I've learned!" Michael yelled, his fists lighting up with bright, yellow heat.
He closed the gap between them and landed blow after blow—each one sharper, heavier, and hotter than the last. Renald blocked what he could, but the impact pushed him back again and again.
"Impossible…" Renald whispered, spitting blood. "How are you this strong?!"
"You're not the only one who's been training," Michael replied.
Renald launched a desperate counterattack, lunging with a fierce uppercut. Michael ducked, rolled to the side, and kicked Renald in the back, sending him sprawling forward.
The crowd gasped as Renald hit the ground.
He tried to get up—but Michael was already there.
He pressed a fist glowing with magic against Renald's shoulder, ready to end the fight.
But then, "Don't move."
A voice spoke behind him.
Michael froze.
A blade touched the side of his neck.
"What…?"
He turned his eyes, only to see Katsu standing beside him with a firm grip on a small dagger made of compressed energy.
"You lost," Katsu said quietly. "This round's over."
Michael's heart pounded. He turned toward Torren.
His friend stood still, head lowered.
"I lost," Torren admitted.
The silence in the crowd was deafening. Then came murmurs.
Michael let out a slow breath, stepping back from Renald. The glow from his fists faded. The fire within him cooled.
Katsu sheathed his energy blade and stepped back, nodding once.
Renald pushed himself up, still shaky, and stared at Michael with wide eyes.
"You… you could've destroyed me," he said, voice quiet.
"But I didn't," Michael replied and walked toward Torren.
The elder's voice rang out across the arena.
"Victory goes to Katsu Hirengin and Renald Solfaris!"
Michael stood beside Torren and whispered, "Sorry."
Torren shook his head. "No need. You did everything right."
As the two of them exited the arena, Michael's mind swirled with questions—not of regret, but of what lay ahead.
Because if this was only the first trial… he had a feeling things were only going to get tougher from here.