The midday sun blazed high above the crowded arena, its golden rays bouncing off the circular stone stage in the center. The audience, a sea of vibrant cloaks and loud chatter, buzzed with anticipation. Flags bearing the crests of the Five Nations rippled in the wind, and the scent of fried dumplings and roasted meat wafted from nearby vendor stalls.
A loud voice thundered through the magical sound system embedded in the walls of the coliseum.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer bellowed, his voice echoing across the massive space. "It's time for the third round! On one side—Dan, the boy of lightning! And on the other—Dosu, the acid-mouth chi user!"
Dan stood at the edge of the arena's entry tunnel, framed by a long shadow cast from the arched stone. He walked forward slowly, feeling each step like a weight dragging through mud. His limbs ached. His ribs burned. The last match had left more than just bruises—it had carved pain deep into his bones.
He took a deep breath, chest rising and falling slowly. The sting of air in his lungs made him wince. Then came the cough—and with it, a thin streak of blood slid down from the corner of his lips.
Not again... he thought grimly.
His hands clenched into fists, fingers trembling, but from within, the familiar crackle of static pulsed through his veins.
My body is still in pain after the last fight. I had to train for three days straight, he thought. But I won't back down now.
Across the ring, Dosu had barely stepped out before his expression twisted in panic. He was pale, sweat dripping down his temple. His hands trembled as he stared at Dan with wide eyes. The air around Dan pulsed—wild, raw, electric. Dosu's breath grew shallow, chest tightening.
This aura… It's insane. His last two opponents left in stretchers… There's no way I'm doing this. I'll pretend I'm sick. I have to.
Dosu suddenly doubled over, coughing violently. His legs buckled and he collapsed onto the arena floor. Shouts of concern rippled through the stands as medics rushed in. Within moments, they were carrying Dosu off the field.
The announcer cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Well, there you have it, folks. Due to Dosu falling ill, Dan is declared the winner!"
The crowd cheered, though a few groans mixed in.
"Go Dan!"
"Yeah, lightning boy!"
Dan blinked, confused.
He got sick on the spot…? he thought, watching Dosu get carted away. Then he smirked faintly. "Well… doesn't matter. I'm in the next round."
Knight Administrators' Office
Vixen leaned against the window, arms crossed. "Well, looks like he'll actually make it to the main exams. I still can't believe Dosu dropped like that."
"I can," said Greg, the balding, broad-shouldered Head Examiner. He chuckled as he sipped tea. "I saw Dosu earlier. The moment he found out he'd be fighting Dan, he started shaking like a leaf."
DG, a his with sharp eyes and a notepad, sat across from him. "So they're scared of the lightning kid?"
Greg shrugged. "Wouldn't you be? This kingdom isn't exactly known for breeding the bravest fighters."
"At least the Lightning Nation will be proud one of theirs is making it to the main stage," Vixen mused.
Greg's expression darkened slightly. "About that… DG, did you reach out to them?"
DG nodded. "Yes, sir. They said they've never heard of him. But they also said, 'If he truly carries our blood, he will survive the teacup and reach the real storm.'"
Greg laughed. "The final stage, huh… The other nations wrapped their preliminaries last week, right?"
"Yes, sir. And this year's finals are hosted by the Fire Nation's eighth branch."
Vixen scowled. "Hopefully it's better than the bloodbath the Weapons Nation held last year."
Greg nodded solemnly. "Yes… but more importantly—I want to see what Dan can really do."
Later That Day – Golock's Healing Shop
Dan dashed across rooftops, leaping silently over tiles and chimney tops. The wind rustled his jacket as the sun dipped lower behind the buildings. Soon, he landed in front of a small, warmly lit herb shop nestled between a bookstore and a clothing stall.
He knocked gently before pushing the door open.
"Damon, you there?"
A familiar voice came from the back. "Hello? Who is it—Dan?!"
Damon emerged, a tall boy with wild curls and spectacles perched on his nose. He smiled warmly.
"You came!"
Dan grinned. "Why wouldn't I? Always good to visit an old friend."
"I figured Mr. Popular would be too busy to drop by."
Dan snorted. "Real funny."
"I'm serious. Everyone's talking about you… 'The mysterious lightning boy stealing the show!'"
Dan raised a brow. "That's what they're calling me?"
"Oh yeah. So? You win today?"
"Technically. The guy got sick before we even started."
Damon laughed. "That's wild."
Dan scratched the back of his head. "Actually… I came for something else too."
"The healing herbs, right?" Damon smirked. "Knew it. Let me grab them."
As Damon went to the shelves, Dan leaned against the counter.
"When's your traveler's journey starting?"
"By next week."
Dan nodded. "That's when my final match will be."
They exchanged a look. A moment of quiet settled in.
"Crazy to think we're both leaving this town," Dan said.
"Yeah," Damon replied softly. "But we all have to move on. Find ourselves in this vast world."
Dan smiled. "Yeah… Thanks, Damon."
Three Days Later – Forest Clearing Outside Town
Leaves rustled as Dan stood in a clearing, surrounded by trees scarred with burn marks and cracked bark. He stood ten meters away from one, channeling his lightning into a pointed blast.
He fired—only for the bolt to flicker and vanish before impact.
"Ugh," he muttered. "Still not enough impact… Maybe if I merge it with my close-combat style..."
He dropped into a karate stance, arms raised, and smirked.
"Let's try this."
Match Day – Battleground
The crowd gathered again, murmuring with disappointment.
The announcer stepped forward, face tight.
"Unfortunately, today's opponent has resigned from facing Dan."
A wave of groans and boos echoed.
"Second time now?" someone shouted.
Dan stood at the edge of the arena, fists clenched.
Come on! What the hell…
Knight Administrators' Office
Greg leaned back in his chair. "Seems the boy's not too happy."
"Can't blame him," Vixen added. "He's itching to test himself."
"Two dropouts back-to-back," DG muttered. "Even the crowd's getting restless."
Greg stared at the arena below. "If this keeps up, he won't even break a sweat before the finals."
Three More Days Later
Dan trained harder, pushing his lightning-infused strikes to the limit. He fused martial arts with chi control—his strikes becoming sharper, more focused, faster.
One night before the final match, Dan visited Golock's again.
"Hey, Damon."
"Yeah?"
"After my match, let's meet on the roof of my house. Just one last time before we go."
Damon smiled. "Alright then,It's a date."
Dan turned to leave, but Damon called out, "Dan… good luck!"
Dan nodded, smiling back. "Thanks. I needed that."
Final Preliminary Round – Arena
The stadium pulsed with noise. The final matches for each pot group were today.
Dan walked into the arena, head held high. No fear. No doubts.
Across from him stood a calm figure: Daki, the bamboo chi user. Clad in forest-green robes with a thick bamboo pole strapped to his back, Daki exuded quiet confidence. His posture was relaxed, his gaze focused.
The crowd hushed as the announcer stepped forward.
"Today marks the final match of Pot Group Three! Our contenders: Dan, the lightning chi user—versus Daki, wielder of bamboo chi!"
The two competitors stared across the arena at each other, the silence thick with tension.
Dan's heart beat faster. Finally… someone who won't run.
Daki tilted his head slightly. His voice was soft, but it carried.
"Time for my world… to shine."
Lightning cracked faintly in Dan's palm as he smirked.
Let's see who truly deserves to move on.
To be continued…