A gasp rippled through the crowd—a sharp, disbelieving intake of breath that spread like wildfire.
Then the wave broke.
A deafening uproar surged through the Crimson Crown Arena, voices crashing together in a chaotic symphony of excitement and horror. The stands trembled under the force of thousands of spectators screaming, shouting, and arguing all at once.
Some gamblers leapt to their feet, clutching at their heads as if they themselves had been struck. Others bellowed in exhilaration, fists pumping in the air.
The betting screens flickered, odds shifting wildly as stunned gamblers scrambled to process what they had just witnessed. Numbers danced, some accounts swelling with newfound wealth, others plunging into ruin.
Even among the seasoned fighters in the stands, murmurs spread like wildfire.
"No way… The Immovable Fortress—?"
"He's human after all."
"This is the first time someone has ever defeated him by breaking his shield."
Down in the pit, the Dawn Guardian remained on one knee, his breathing labored, his body heavy with exhaustion. His shattered shield lay scattered across the battlefield, pieces glinting under the harsh lights like the remnants of a fallen monument. His qi flickered weakly, the once-formidable green aura now a dim shimmer around his form.
Standing above him, Slasher exhaled, slowly lowering his twin machetes. The red glow of his qi cast his silhouette in an eerie light, his breath measured, shoulders rising and falling with the aftereffects of his exertion. He could feel the dull ache in his muscles, the cost of using [Overload] catching up to him, but he paid it no mind.
He had won.
A beat passed. Then another.
With a quiet exhale, he took a step back.
{LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, We have just witnessed HISTORY tonight! THE SLASHER—our relentless warrior—has shattered the legend of the IMMOVABLE FORTRESS!}
The announcer's voice, amplified through the speakers, triggered a fresh explosion of cheers and boos. The betting screens finalized the payouts, and the underground gambling network buzzed with activity.
Vance, seated comfortably in the stands, let out a victorious yell. "Hell yeah!" He slammed his fist against the armrest, a grin splitting his face. "That's what I'm talking about!"
Beside him, Rion leaned back, arms crossed, watching the spectacle with a detached expression. His bet had paid off, but the real prize had been analyzing the fight.
This guy is scary....
Rion's mind raced as he processed the aftermath of the fight. The Slasher's victory wasn't just a fluke—it was a calculated, brutal display of skill and power. The way he had dismantled the Dawn Guardian's defenses, breaking through the supposedly unbreakable shield, was a testament to his mastery of both technique and qi manipulation.
He glanced at Vance, who was still celebrating, and shook his head slightly. Vance was all about the thrill of the win, the rush of the gamble paying off. But him? He was more interested in the implications of what he had just witnessed.
He had witnessed plenty of strong cultivators in combat. In addition to Stone who he was familiar with, there were other adepts and strykers from the other teams, each with their own unique abilities and fighting styles.
Rion had seen them train together, in order to figure out everyone's level of combat acumen in preparation for the upcoming exploration. But none of them, not even the four or five peak-stage cultivators, had shown the kind of raw, unrelenting power that The Slasher had just displayed.
Rion leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the pit below. The Slasher was already leaving, his machetes now hanging loosely at his sides. The red glow of his qi was fading, but the aura of dominance remained. The crowd was still roaring, but Rion's mind was elsewhere.
The Slasher was an unknown, and his motives for appearing in Coca Town and subsequently this arena was also unknown. If it turned out that he was a member of one of their rival factions, then that would be a problem indeed.
While he was thinking up countermeasures in case they ever had to face each other, the announcer's voice boomed once more, his excitement infectious.
{WHAT A MATCH! This is surely a battle for the ages! Let's break down the most incredible moments of this unforgettable battle!}
The screens around the arena replayed key moments in slow motion:
The Slasher's opening blitz, where he nearly overwhelmed the Dawn Guardian from the start.
Dawn Guardian counterattacking with his [Qi Blast], which had forced The Slasher into a defensive maneuver, proving that the Immovable Fortress wasn't an easy opponent.
The relentless barrage of Slasher's attacks once he found his momentum, highlighting the sheer speed of his strikes.
The crucial moment where Dawn Guardian used some kind of shockwave technique, breaking Slasher's footing and landing a devastating counter.
And finally—THE DECISIVE MOMENT!
The feed zoomed in on the exact second The Slasher activated [Overload] and launched [Star Breaker], the moment his machetes struck the tower shield. The footage slowed to capture the rippling shockwave, the deepening cracks, and the final, shattering explosion of metal.
The crowd roared as the moment replayed again and again from different angles. The impact, the burst of energy, the sheer spectacle of a shield that had once been thought unbreakable turning into scrap.
Vance whistled, shaking his head in admiration. "Man, that was beautiful." He turned to Rion, eyes gleaming. "And profitable!"
Rion glanced at him. "How much did you make?"
Vance wiggled his fingers and grinned. "Let's just say, a lot. Enough that I might actually splurge and buy some of the more expensive souvenirs for Ilya."
Before Rion could react, Vance lunged forward as if to hug him.
Rion immediately deflected him with a precise sidestep, raising an arm to create just enough space to avoid contact. "Keep your sweaty excitement to yourself."
Vance cackled. "Come on, man! I owe you—"
"Pay me with cash." Rion cut him off, already turning toward the exit. "Let's go."
The speakers overhead crackled again as the announcer wrapped up the night's events.
{AND WITH THAT, TONIGHT'S MATCHES HAVE CONCLUDED! BUT DON'T WORRY, FIGHT FANS—THE CRIMSON CROWN ARENA WILL RETURN TOMORROW WITH MORE THRILLING COMBAT! STAY TUNED, PLACE YOUR BETS, AND REMEMBER—FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD!}
With a final blare of triumphant music, the arena lights shifted, signaling the mass exodus of spectators. The roaring crowd began funneling toward the exits, still buzzing with energy. Theit noise was no longer centered on the fight but on post-match discussions, bets, and theories. Rion and Vance slipped through the dispersing mass of people, heading toward the exit.
The underground arena's neon lights flickered behind them as they both stepped out into the damp night air. The roar of the crowd still echoed in their ears, but outside, the city felt different—quieter, heavier. A sharp contrast to the bloodthirsty excitement of the fights they had just witnessed.
As they walked, Vance kept buzzing with energy. "Man, I still can't believe it. That Dawn Guardian guy's a legend, but Slasher just—just tore through him! You saw how how fast he was, frigging insane!"
Rion hummed in acknowledgment. "Dawn Guardian was too reliant on his shield. The moment it broke, the fight was over."
Vance nodded. "Yeah, but you gotta admit, he put up a hell of a fight. That stomping technique almost turned things around."
They continued discussing the fight as they walked through the dimly lit streets, the energy of the arena still thrumming through the air. The city was alive with neon signs and scattered groups of arena-goers still caught up in post-match debates.
Then, as they turned a corner into a quieter stretch of road, the hairs on Rion's neck prickled.
Something is off.
Rion's eyes subtly flickered toward an alley on the side.
A group of gangsters stood nonchalantly, their postures relaxed but their presence deliberate. They weren't moving, weren't talking—just there. Blocking the alleyway.
Rion's mind sharpened in an instant. His instincts screamed at him, demanding he analyze the situation. His mind, cataloged every detail in an instant.
The gangsters' clothes—street-tier muscle, probably running errands for a mid-level crew. Were they waiting for him? No. Their stance was not tense, meaning they weren't preparing for a fight. They had already handled their business.
Hmmmmm.....
He subtly scanned the area and saw something. Behind them, barely visible in the dim light, was a crumpled figure on the ground. He could faintly see that the figure was somewhat on the small side, mostly likely a child or teenager.
The figure was unmoving but he could faintly notice the chest still rising and falling.
Vance was still rambling, completely unaware. "—and that last exchange, man, I swear, it was like a damn movie scene! You ever see two fighters at just go at it like that? I swear, they should make a whole highlight reel just for that one match—"
Rion exhaled slowly, suppressing his reaction.
Not my business.
He didn't glance back or hesitate, showing no sign that he had noticed anything unusual. With a subtle shift of his body, he positioned himself to block Vance's view of the alley. His tone remained relaxed as he replied, "Yeah, it was a good fight."
The doting father beside him was too good-natured, too soft-hearted. If he saw something like that, he'd want to interfere. And getting involved with street thugs this late into the night, over something that wasn't their problem, was the last thing Rion wanted.
"—You listening, man?" Vance nudged his shoulder. "What do you think? Dawn Guardian vs. Stone—who wins?"
Rion's expression didn't waver. "Depends on the conditions. Stone has a massive advantage in that—"
And just like that, the moment passed.
The alley disappeared behind them.
The gangsters. The fainted figure.
All just part of the background.
They returned to base without issue, the neon lights of the underground city casting long shadows as they walked.
Vance stretched. "Man, I'm exhausted. That was too much excitement for one night."
Rion nodded. "Get some rest."
"You too," Vance said with a yawn, waving as he headed for his room.
Rion stood there for a moment, watching the hallway empty.
Then, without a word, he turned and entered his own room, shutting the door behind him.
* * *
Back at the alleyway, the distant hum of the city masked the quiet, pained groans of the collapsed young girl. The gangsters stood over her, their relaxed postures giving way to something crueler now that no prying eyes were watching.
One of them crouched down, his grin sharp with amusement as he grabbed a fistful of short, red hair and yanked the small figure upright. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as pain jolted through her skull.
Her crimson eyes flickered open, hazy from the beating, but there was no mistaking the venom in them. She barely had the strength to lift her arms, let alone fight back.
The thug holding her chuckled, shaking his head. "Still got that look, huh? Thought we'd beaten some sense into you by now."
Another gangster, a broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his cheek, cracked his knuckles. "You're lucky we're in a good mood tonight.He knelt down, gripping her chin roughly and forcing her to look at him. "But if you ever try to sneak in without paying again…"
His fist drove into her gut, cutting off whatever defiance she might've mustered. She doubled over with a choked wheeze, only held up by the grip on her hair.
The thug smirked, shoving her back down to the ground. "Next time, we won't be so nice."
With that, the gangsters turned and walked off, their laughter fading into the night, leaving the young girl slumped against the cold pavement, breathing shallowly.
A long moment passed before she shifted, wincing as she forced herself to move. Her fingers curled into fists, trembling. The taste of blood sat heavy in her mouth, but she swallowed it down with a slight smirk.
There were much more important things than the pain she was currently enduring, like securing the crumpled bills she had hidden in her hands.
Dinner funds acquired...