Chapter 41
Elijah's body felt whole again by the time the announcer called his name. The healing warmth had done its work, knitting the split in his lip, soothing the ache in his ribs, smoothing the rawness on his knuckles. He stood up, rolled his shoulders, and felt nothing but the quiet hum of Ki in his chest.
"Ready?" Kai asked.
Elijah nodded and walked down the steps.
The crowd was different now. They had seen him fight once, had watched him put Damon Cross on the mat, and they remembered. The path to the ring opened wider this time, eyes tracking him, voices murmuring his name. Not with recognition, not yet, but with curiosity.
The announcer called the other name. "Aurora"
Elijah stopped at the edge of the ring before jumping inside.
Aurora climbed into the ring from the opposite side, and the crowd's energy shifted. The murmurs grew louder, the whispers more urgent. Elijah understood why.
She was tall for a woman, five eight or nine, with long legs and a narrow waist that flared into hips that moved with a deliberate, almost lazy grace. Her body was fit—lean muscle visible in her arms, her shoulders, the curve of her calves—but soft where it needed to be, the kind of build that came from training, not from starving. She wore fitted shorts and a sleeveless top that left her arms bare, the fabric dark against her pale skin. Her stomach was bare between the two, the muscles there defined but not hard, and the way she moved made the fabric shift in ways that drew eyes.
Her hair was silver. Not gray, not white, but silver, the color of moonlight on water, falling past her shoulders in waves that caught the overhead lights and threw them back in fragments. Her face was sharp—high cheekbones, a narrow nose, a mouth that was full but not wide—and her eyes were blue. Not the pale blue of the sky or the dark blue of the deep ocean, but something in between. Striking. The kind of blue that made you look twice and forget what you were looking for.
She was twenty-two, Elijah guessed, and Maybe twenty-three. There was something in her face that said she had been doing this for years, that she had seen rings like this one more times than she could count.
Her Ki was dense, controlled, coiled in her chest like a serpent waiting to strike. Beginner Knight Stage High which is the same as Kai.
The bell rang.
Elijah breathed in, held it for a moment as his eyes focused on her center, and then let it out slow. He reached for Zenith, deeper this time. Fifty percent. The warmth exploded through his chest, flooded his arms, his legs, his back. His muscles tightened, his vision sharpened, his heart pounded in his ears, with a red aura which formed on his whole body.
His stats shifted behind his eyes.
Strength: 27 → 40
Endurance: 23 → 34
Defense: 23 → 34
Aurora's Ki surged in response. Her breathing technique activated, and Elijah felt her stats climb. Twenty-five percent, he estimated. Her base strength was higher than his she had been training longer.
She moved first.
Her fist came at his face, fast, precise, nothing wasted. Elijah blocked it, his forearm rising, and the impact jarred through him. She was strong. Stronger than Damon, stronger than anyone he had fought in the ring. He threw a punch of his own, a straight right aimed at her jaw, and she slipped it, her body twisting, her silver hair spinning with the motion.
She answered with a kick. Her leg came up, her shin aimed at his ribs, and Elijah barely got his elbow down in time. The impact drove him sideways, his feet sliding on the mat, and she followed, pressing forward, her fists coming in combinations that forced him back toward the ropes.
The crowd was screaming. Elijah could hear individual voices now, some of them cheering for her, some of them for him. Money was changing hands, odds shifting, the fight too close for anyone to be sure.
Elijah reset his stance. He had been reacting again, letting her set the pace. He stepped forward, inside her guard, and drove his elbow into her shoulder. She grunted, stumbled back, and he followed with a punch to her stomach, then another to her ribs.
She caught his third punch on her palm and held it.
Her blue eyes met his, and she smiled.
"Good," she said.
Then she headbutted him.
The impact snapped his head back, his vision flashing white. Blood filled his mouth, his lip split open again. He stumbled, his guard dropping, and she drove her knee into his chest. The air left his lungs in a rush, and he hit the ropes, bouncing forward, right into her fist.
The punch caught him on the cheek. His head snapped to the side, and for a moment, the world tilted. He could hear the crowd, could hear Kai's voice somewhere in the noise, but it was distant, muffled.
He breathed in, held it, and let it out slow.
The warmth of Zenith surged again, pushing back the fog, steadying his vision. He straightened, raised his hands, and looked at her.
She was watching him, her blue eyes narrow, her silver hair falling across her face. She had expected him to fall.
He moved forward.
The fight changed after that. They circled each other, trading punches, trading kicks, neither giving ground. She was faster than him, her technique cleaner, her movements more precise. But he was stronger now, the fifty percent of Zenith pushing his stats past hers in some areas, matching her in others.
He caught her with a hook to the ribs, felt something give beneath his fist. She gasped, her breath catching, and he followed with a punch to her jaw that snapped her head to the side. She stumbled, caught herself on the ropes, and came back at him with a fury that surprised him.
Her fists flew, left, right, left, each one aimed at his face, his throat, his chest. He blocked what he could, took what he couldn't, and kept moving forward. His lip was bleeding again. His ribs ached where she had landed a kick. His knuckles were raw, the skin broken.
But she was bleeding too. A cut above her eye, blood running down her cheek, mixing with the sweat on her face. Her breathing was ragged, her Ki flickering as her body tired.
She threw a wild punch, her weight shifting too far forward, and Elijah saw it.
He stepped inside the punch, felt it pass over his shoulder, and drove his fist into her stomach. She folded forward, and he brought his knee up, catching her in the chest. She stumbled back, hit the ropes, and bounced forward, right into his waiting fist.
The punch caught her on the jaw. Her head snapped to the side, her body following, and she hit the mat on her back, her arms splayed, her silver hair spread across the canvas.
Her Ki flickered once, twice, and went dark.
The crowd exploded.
Elijah stood over her for a moment, his chest heaving, his fists still raised. Blood dripped from his lip onto the mat. His ribs throbbed with every breath. His knuckles were raw, the skin torn.
But he was standing. He had won.
The announcer's voice cut through the noise. "Winner, Elijah"
Elijah lowered his hands and looked down at Aurora. She was staring at the lights, her chest rising and falling, her blue eyes unfocused. Blood seeped from the cut above her eye, pooling on the canvas beneath her head.
He offered her his hand.
She looked at it for a moment, then at him. Her eyes focused, sharpened, and she smiled. It was small, tired, but real.
She took his hand. He pulled her to her feet.
"Good fight," she said.
"You too."
She climbed out of the ring, silver hair falling across her face, the crowd still roaring behind her. Elijah watched her go for a moment, then turned and walked back toward his seat.
The crowd parted for him again. Not with curiosity this time. With something else.
He dropped into his seat and let his head fall back. The healing warmth was already moving through him, knitting his lip, soothing his ribs, smoothing his knuckles. His body was heavy, his lungs still burning, but he was alive. He had won.
Kai leaned over. "You did well against Aurora, she isn't connected with any gang. Do you want to invite her to our gang."
Elijah nodded.
Kai's face was unreadable for a moment. Then he smiled. "Okay then, let me go and talk to her."
Stats
[Endurance: 23 --> 24]
[Defense: 23 --> 25]
Elijah closed his eyes and let the noise of the crowd wash over him.