Chapter 61
Stats
Strength: 29 → 38
Endurance: 27 → 35
Defense: 28 → 36
The man across the cage did not wait for a bell. There was no bell in death matches. The fight started the moment both opponents were inside, and everyone knew it.
He charged.
For a man his size, he was fast. His feet pounded against the concrete floor, and the two short blades in his hands gleamed under the lights. His aura was a dull brown, the color of mud, and it flickered around his massive frame as his breathing technique pushed his stats higher. Beginner Knight Stage Mid. Stronger than the men Elijah had faced in the lower underground, but not by much.
Elijah's Ki sense reached out, reading the man's trajectory, the angle of his blades, the shift of his weight. He stepped to the side, and the first blade passed through the space where his chest had been. The second blade came from below, aimed at his stomach, and Elijah twisted, the edge grazing his side but not cutting deep.
He drove his elbow into the man's ribs.
The impact was solid, and the man grunted, his brown aura flickering. He stumbled but did not fall. He swung again, both blades flashing, and Elijah ducked under the first, stepped inside the second, and drove his palm into the man's chin.
The man's head snapped back. His eyes went wide, then blank. His knees buckled, and he crashed to the concrete floor, his blades clattering out of his hands. His brown aura flickered once, twice, and went dark.
The crowd was silent.
Elijah stood over him, his chest rising and falling, his red aura still flickering at thirty percent. He had not even breathed hard. The fight had lasted seconds.
He looked down at the blades on the floor. They were short, each about a foot long, with black handles wrapped in leather and blades that curved slightly at the tip.
Elijah picked them up.
He held one in each hand, testing the weight, the balance, the way the leather grip pressed against his palms. Then he looked at the cage door.
Two men were already pulling the unconscious fighter out of the cage. His body left a dark smear on the concrete where his head had bled. No one checked to see if he was still breathing.
Another man stepped through the door.
He was smaller than the first, leaner, with close-cropped hair the color of rust and eyes that were pale green, almost yellow. He wore a black mask that covered the upper half of his face, and his clothes were dark and tight, designed for movement. In his hands was a single long knife, its blade serrated along one edge, its handle wrapped in dark tape.
His aura was a sickly yellow-green. Beginner Knight Stage Mid, the same as the first, but his Ki moved differently—faster, more erratic. He was not as strong as the first man, but he was quicker, and he knew how to use his weapon.
He circled.
Elijah circled with him, the two blades in his hands held low, his Ki sense reaching out, reading the man's movements. The man feinted left, then right, then lunged.
The long knife came at Elijah's throat. Elijah brought one of the short blades up, deflecting the strike, and the sound of metal on metal rang through the cage. The man followed with a slash at Elijah's stomach, and Elijah twisted, the blade passing close enough to cut his shirt.
He drove his other blade at the man's chest. The man dodged, but not fast enough. The tip caught his shoulder, slicing through cloth and skin, and blood welled up dark against his sleeve.
The man hissed and stepped back, his yellow-green aura flaring. He looked at the blood on his shoulder, then at Elijah.
He came at Elijah again, faster this time, his knife slashing and stabbing in a pattern that was hard to read. Elijah blocked what he could, dodged what he couldn't, and took a shallow cut on his forearm when one of the strikes slipped past his guard. The pain was sharp but distant, pushed aside by the warmth of Zenith still flowing through his veins.
He waited for his opening.
It came when the man overextended on a thrust, his weight shifting too far forward, his balance breaking. Elijah stepped inside the strike, drove his left blade into the man's side, and brought the hilt of his right blade down on the back of the man's head.
The man dropped. His yellow-green aura flickered and died. The long knife clattered to the floor.
Elijah stood over him, breathing harder now. The cut on his forearm was bleeding freely, dripping onto the concrete, but it was not deep. He looked at the cage door.
The man was dragged out. Another fighter was already waiting.
She stepped through the door.
She was tall, almost as tall as Elijah, with a lean build that spoke of speed rather than strength. Her hair was dark red, almost brown, pulled back in a tight braid that hung down her back. Her mask was silver, plain, with no decoration except for two thin slits for her eyes. Those eyes were dark, nearly black, and they looked at Elijah with an intensity that made his Ki sense hum.
In each hand, she held a blade. Not knives like the first two fighters, but proper short swords, each about two feet long, with straight blades and simple cross guards. The steel was dark, almost black, and it did not reflect the light.
Her aura was a deep purple, the color of a bruise, and it pulsed around her in slow, steady waves. Beginner Knight Stage Mid, like the others, but her Ki was denser, more controlled. She had been doing this for a long time.
She walked straight toward him, her blades held low, her eyes never leaving his.
Elijah raised his own blades and met her in the center of the cage.
The first exchange was fast. Her left blade came at his head, and he blocked it with his right. Her right blade came at his stomach, and he barely got his left blade down in time to deflect it. The impact jarred through his arms, and he stepped back, resetting his stance.
She followed.
Her blades moved in a blur, slashing and stabbing from angles that were hard to predict. Elijah's Ki sense was working overtime, feeding him information faster than it ever had before. He could see the strikes coming, could feel the trajectory, the speed, the force. But seeing and stopping were different things.
A blade sliced across his chest. Not deep, but enough to draw blood. Another cut his shoulder. Another opened a gash on his forearm, right next to the first wound.
He was losing.
She was faster than him, even with Zenith pushing his stats higher. Her technique was cleaner, her movements more efficient, her breathing steady and controlled. She had been training for years, and it showed.
He needed to change something.
He stopped trying to block her strikes and started dodging. He let his Ki sense guide him, moving his body in ways that felt almost like dancing, slipping between her blades instead of meeting them head on. The cuts came less frequently now.
She pressed harder. Her purple aura flared brighter, and her speed increased. A blade caught him across the ribs, and he felt the skin part, felt the warmth of his own blood running down his side. Another blade stabbed at his thigh, and he twisted, the tip grazing his leg instead of sinking in.
He was running out of time. His body was slowing, the blood loss starting to affect him, the pain building with every passing second. If he did not end this soon, she would.
He reached deep inside himself.
King's Aura.
The pressure exploded outward.
A presence that filled the cage, heavy and absolute, pressing down on everything inside it. The woman's purple aura flickered wildly, guttering like a candle in a storm. Her blades stopped mid-swing. Her eyes went wide.
She was at the same stage as him, Beginner Knight Stage Mid. The aura did not care, Anyone within one realm above or below felt it.
Her hands trembled. Her breathing became shallow. The perfect control she had shown moments ago shattered, replaced by something closer to panic.
Elijah moved.
He crossed the distance between them in two steps, his blades coming up, and he struck. Not to kill. He drove the hilt of his right blade into her temple, and her eyes rolled back. Her body went limp, and she collapsed to the concrete floor, her blades clattering beside her.
Her purple aura flickered once, twice, and went dark.
Elijah stood over her, his chest heaving, his body covered in cuts and blood. The King's Aura had drained him more than he expected. He could feel the exhaustion pressing down on him, heavier than any opponent.
He looked at the cage door.
Three down and Seven to go.
But he could only use the King's Aura once more. Maybe, If he pushed himself that far.
He knelt down and picked up the woman's blades. They were lighter than his, better balanced. He held them for a moment, then looked at the short knives he had taken from the first fighter. He kept the woman's blades and left the knives on the floor.
The crowd was still silent. The lights were still blinding. And somewhere beyond the cage, the next opponent was already waiting.
[Eternal Grounded Tree Breathing Technique - Level 1: 30% progress]
[Zenith - 30% active]
[King's Aura - 1 use remaining at current energy levels]
Elijah closed the screens and breathed. In. Hold. Out. The warmth of the Eternal Grounded Tree moved through him, slow and patient, knitting his wounds as best it could. There was not much time. The next fight would be here soon.
He raised his blades and waited.