The vampire leaders were visibly impressed. To witness such overwhelming strength from a boy who had just graduated the academy as a vampire noble and without any ability no less—was nothing short of extraordinary. Murmurs of amazement rippled across the arena.
The remaining duels began with renewed intensity. Each match crackled with skill and power, the combatants pushing their limits. Lightning-fast strikes, razor-sharp precision, and flashes of dark magic kept the crowd on the edge of their seats. Some contenders displayed genius-level tactics, others overwhelming strength, and a few showcased rare abilities that drew cheers from the stands.
Yet no matter how thrilling the fights were, every vampire in the arena felt the shadow of the Barek vs. Charly match looming over them. The impact of that battle had set a new standard—ferocity, cunning, raw power, and precision—something that none of the following duels could fully match.
Laura Mindveil, leader of the Mindveil clan, leaned back lazily but couldn't hide a glimmer of interest. "These fights are impressive, sure… but nothing hits like that first one," she murmured, eyes tracing the rapid movements of two agile fighters dueling with synchronized kicks and blood attacks.
"You're right," Finn Virefang said, his dark-red hair catching the moonlight as he shifted slightly in his seat. "Charly showed real skill, but that Ironkong—Barek—left a mark on this entire arena. Every match after feels like it's chasing a shadow."
Foki Mimscryst, head of the Mimscryst clan, smirked. "These kids have potential, no doubt. And yet the sheer force of that Ironkong kid changes the way you watch the rest of the fights. You got a good one, Gondor.", he smiled at the dark-skinned titan seated beside him. The man had a close-cropped buzz cut, and massive mala beads hung around his neck and wrapped around his hands. He wore a fitted black inner shirt, emblazoned with his clan's symbol — a clenched iron gauntlet clutching a coiled serpent, painted boldly in red across his chest. His lower garment was a wide, curved wrap secured with a thick rope around his waist, and his feet were bare. Every detail spoke of pride and unyielding strength, the kind that defined the true-born Ironkongs. And seeing Barek, although he's just seeing him for the first time, he somehow felt connected to the kid.
Gondor's massive frame leaned forward, fists clenched in approval. "You know it man, that boy has a bright future, definitely." he said relaxing in his seat.
Fay Phasera, chuckled at Gondor. "I see you're still proud of your boy. Rightly so. But some of these young ones are showing real promise too. Don't sleep on them."
The audience was alive with excitement. Spectators shouted and cheered with every strike and dodge, the arena echoing with applause for precise blade work and explosive strength. While Barek and Charly's match had stolen the spotlight, the rest of the tournament reminded everyone that the village was brimming with prodigies waiting to make their mark.
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena once more. "And that's a wrap! All battles have concluded. Vampire Lords may now submit their selections for the contenders they wish to claim!"
The crowd began to stream out of the stands, still buzzing with discussion.
"Well Charly obviously stays with me," Finn said thoughtfully, rising from his seat. "He may have lost to the Ironkong, but he showed real promise. He's someone to watch."
Gondor simply smiled,"Can't wait to have you, Barek."
As the arena emptied, the vampires spoke of the exciting day they had experienced that day in the arena —Barek's raw strength and the rest of the nobles—lingered in every mind, every conversation. The grand tournament had ended and they couldn't wait to see what happened next.
__________________________________________________________________________
Some days later, in the sprawling expanse of Ironkong Castle.
In the colossal hall, Gondor loomed atop his towering throne made from the trunk of what looked like a really huge rock, a living monument of dark authority. Flanking him, a couple of his most loyal knights stood like statues in their bulky titan forms, their armor gleaming under the dim torchlight. The air was thick, almost suffocating with unspoken tension, as his guest stood silently before him.
'So, the old man really did pick this guy after all', Bronx thought, standing among his colleagues in the hall, as a knight-in-training, still teetering on the edge of evolving into a full vampire knight. His eyes were locked on Barek, whose muscular, tank-like frame seemed sculpted by battle itself—a walking embodiment of "built for war."
The whole hall was populated with Ironkongs dressed in uniforms and armour, all towering over each other and among these war gods, Barek actually didn't stand out as much anymore.
'Gotta admit… dude is stacked as hell', Bronx mused inwardly. 'And judging from that match the other day, he's definitely not just hype, he's only a noble? That's gotta be some sort of mistake right, but then again for his age, I assume that's right'. Bronx stood there lost in his thoughts, 'Wonder how insane he's gonna be once he unlocks his full ability…'
Before he could dwell further, the room shifted. A sudden, oppressive pressure slammed into him—Gondor's aura surged like a tidal wave, thick with regal authority and unrelenting power.
"H-Huh?" Bronx blinked, startled, realizing that every eye in the hall was now on him—especially his father's. Gondor's presence crackled with static energy, his gaze sharp enough to carve diamonds. His face was as cold and unyielding as the obsidian throne he sat upon.
"Don't lemme come at you, boy!" Gondor barked, his voice a cannon of irritation reverberating through the hall. A few knights stifled chuckles at Bronx's sudden, crimson-faced embarrassment.
'Interesting bunch', Barek thought, lips curling into a subtle, amused smile.
Then, without warning, Bronx lunged forward. "Come on, lil man! Your test starts now—we're going beast hunting!"
Before Barek could react, Bronx gripped his arm and dragged him toward the designated testing grounds, the sound of their footsteps echoing like war drums through the hall.
The vampire village sprawled across the eastern reaches of their planet, occupying only a fragment of its vast surface. Despite centuries of habitation, the originals who first discovered this land had only scratched the surface. They had known from the beginning that other night-beings roamed the world, and the violent clashes with untamed beasts in those early days had shaped the very foundations of the settlement. The originals had warned their successors about the lurking dangers beyond their controlled borders, emphasizing caution in territories not dominated by vampire kind.
Barek was led out of the castle, stepping into a zone cautiously mapped by the villagers—an untamed wilderness where beasts thrived in their own brutal, chaotic ecosystem. These creatures bore cores of pure obsidian. Thanks to the vampire village's R&D division, these cores became a precious resource—fuel for technology and a means to forge or enhance beast-forged weaponry, scaled to the creature's strength.
The forest exuded a living, almost sentient danger. It was a meticulously controlled ecosystem, teeming with monsters of varying threat levels: Fleshborn, NightMarrow, BloodWrought… and several rarer, cataclysmic classes that even elite teams of vampire knights approached only with caution.
Barek's assignment was clear: start at the lowest tier, work his way up, and slay as many creatures as possible. Elite vampire knights, capable of felling even BloodWrought beasts alone, watched silently from the shadows. Every strike he made, every tactic he employed, would determine his future within the IronKong clan.
"Good luck, lil man," Bronx called, vanishing with a single, earth-shattering leap from Barek's side, leaving a crater where he had stood. He landed among the other observers, arms crossed. "Don't sweat it. Every beast here can be handled solo by one of us. We'll step in if things get messy."
"Well, what do you know," Barek muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Dude's got skills… gonna have to ask him for a spar later."
A twisted grin spread across his face as he faced the dense, foreboding wilderness.
Though Barek was considered large for his age, among the IronKongs—especially the royal guards and seasoned knights—he was still just one more figure among giants. Standing now at the edge of the forest, dwarfed by towering trees and jagged rocks, the scale of danger became strikingly apparent.
Alright… time to let loose. Let's get it!
Without hesitation, Barek plunged into the monster-infested forest, alone, ready to hunt. The forest seemed to lean in, every rustle and shadow daring him to falter—but he moved forward, heart steady, instincts sharp, and anticipation coiling through his veins like a predator smelling blood.