The cavern felt heavier than before—as if the weight of every fallen fighter still lingered in the air, pressing down on the remaining seventy contenders. Dust drifted like pale snow through shafts of mana-light cutting down from the ceiling. Scorched stone still radiated heat. Cracks webbed across the floor like veins carrying the memory of past violence.
No one wanted to speak.
No one wanted to move first.
Because at this point in the tournament, even breathing wrong could get someone killed.
Swift stood in a half-crouch, shoulders tight, eyes shifting in silver arcs as he surveyed the battlefield. His spectral wings flickered behind him—barely visible, like reflections of a moon that wasn't there. He felt the weight of exhaustion in his bones. Felt Jake's shaky breathing beside him. Felt Shadeclaw prowling from the corner of his vision. Felt the simmering heat from Ember Claw, the creeping chill from Tundra Lynx.
The Top 70 wasn't made of scrubs anymore. There were no easy targets left.
Jake gulped loudly, and Swift shot him a side glance. "Steady."
Jake nodded but didn't stop shaking.
Then the silence snapped.
A trio of fighters broke away from the edge of the cavern. They were practiced enough to keep their footfalls quiet, but Swift's senses were honed now—far sharper than earlier rounds. The first fighter lunged from the right with a hooked blade. The second came from the front, fists coated in chi. The third leapt from above.
Three angles.
One opening.
"Jake, drop!" Swift commanded.
Jake hit the ground on instinct.
Swift surged upward, frost bursting from his claws as he intercepted the airborne attacker. He kicked off the man's chest, sending him spiraling into teleport light. The blade fighter swung wide—Swift caught the weapon between two fingers, froze it, snapped it, and backhanded the fighter into a wall.
The chi brawler hit Swift's ribs with a solid hook. Swift grunted—barely—and twisted behind him, flicking an arc of frost across his back. The man stiffened instantly, breath hitching as the cold stole his ability to move.
One more tap behind his ear, and he vanished.
Jake rose, trembling but impressed. "Swift… you… you're not even winded."
Swift exhaled a cloud of frost. "I am very winded. I am simply used to it."
But Jake didn't have time to reply.
A group of mid-tier fighters spotted him alone and decided he was the easier prey.
They were wrong—but he didn't know that yet.
Three of them rushed Jake in a tight formation—one with a spear, one with a heavy shield, one with a staff crackling with electricity. Jake froze in place, instinct screaming at him to move but nerves locking his legs.
The spear thrust hit first. Jake dodged late, taking a shallow cut across the arm. The shield slammed into his chest, knocking the wind out of him. The staff swung into his shoulder, sending bronze sparks across his body.
Jake's breath caught. His vision blurred.
He stumbled backward, clawing at the ground.
"Swift—Swift—I need—!"
But Swift was busy fending off two more elites. He couldn't reach Jake in time.
The spear fighter lunged again. Jake's eyes widened, panic choking him.
No. No, no, no—
Not like this.
Not when Swift believed in him.
Not when Danny was watching from above.
Not when he had sworn he would become someone worth standing beside.
Something inside him snapped.
No—
Something inside him awakened.
Bronze scales rippled across his shoulders. His arms hardened. His chest expanded. A golden glow flickered behind his eyes. The electricity humming beneath his skin flared bright.
Jake roared.
The sound wasn't human.
It wasn't even humanoid.
It was dragonborn—deep, metallic, thunderous.
He lunged forward, grabbing the spear mid-thrust and ripping it from the fighter's hands. He swung it like a club, knocking the shield-user back into a boulder. Electricity surged up his arms as he drove a fist into the staff-user's chest, launching him into a teleport beam.
The spear-user tried to retreat, but Jake charged, lightning spiraling off him, and tackled the man into the ground hard enough to crater it.
Teleport light swallowed all three.
Jake fell to one knee, panting, hands trembling violently. Electricity flickered off him in wild, uncontrolled arcs.
Swift reached him and steadied him. "You broke through a threshold."
"I… I did?" Jake asked, breathless.
"Yes. And you will do so again."
Jake nearly wept on the spot.
Across the cavern, Shadeclaw prowled like a shadow—calm, controlled, precise. He looked healthier than most, his fur still bristling with the dominance earned after defeating the rogue werewolves. But even he held tension in his jaw. His muscles trembled ever so slightly from exertion.
A snarl echoed from the far side of the arena.
Shadeclaw turned.
A beast-man lumbered forward—massive, plates of natural armor jutting from his shoulders, bone spikes lining his back. His eyes glowed yellow with predatory hunger.
Razorback.
Shadeclaw growled low. Razorback roared and charged, claws carving long trenches in the ground.
They collided like two avalanches.
Razorback slammed Shadeclaw into a pillar, cracking stone. Shadeclaw raked his claws across Razorback's hide—sparks flew as claw met bone plating. Razorback lifted Shadeclaw and threw him. Shadeclaw flipped midair and landed in a crouch.
They rushed each other again.
Razorback bit Shadeclaw's shoulder. Shadeclaw bit back harder. Razorback slammed a knee into Shadeclaw's ribs. Shadeclaw slammed his elbow into Razorback's throat.
The two creatures tore into each other with feral precision until Razorback stumbled, breathless, armor cracked.
Shadeclaw seized his opening.
He lunged, claws glowing with a crimson flash, and raked Razorback's chest in a clean diagonal slash.
Razorback vanished into teleport light.
Shadeclaw spat blood and steadied himself, breathing through the pain. "Unworthy."
Nearby, Ember Claw and Tundra Lynx drifted along the battlefield like twin storms—heat and cold in perfect opposition. Ember Claw struck with blistering speed, flames arcing off his fists. Tundra Lynx's movements were fluid, controlled, every strike leaving frost patterns in the air.
When a trio of fire-users cornered Tundra Lynx, heat waves rippling, Tundra closed his eyes.
The temperature plummeted.
Frost spiraled from his claws. His breath crystallized. The cavern floor iced over in a perfect circle beneath him.
This wasn't basic ice chi.
This was True Ice.
It froze the firestorm midair. It coated armor. It shattered weapons with a single gesture.
The melee fighter teleported from the cold exposure alone.
Ember Claw watched with a wide grin. "That's the good stuff, mate."
Tundra Lynx dipped his head. "Had to save it for the right moment."
While they split apart, Mira stood like a shadow in the center of controlled chaos. Four assassins crept around her, moving with deliberate silence. They attacked simultaneously from four directions.
Mira didn't move.
They struck.
Or tried to.
The first assassin collapsed before Mira even turned her head. The second staggered back, clutching his chest. The third teleported with a strangled cry. The fourth tried to flee—
Mira appeared behind him and tapped the side of his neck.
He vanished.
Shadeclaw saw it. His fur bristled. "She kills shadows."
Jade muttered, "Still not makin' eye contact."
Sedge Hat, naturally, had been cornered by a team of fighters sick of his traps. Four surrounded him, weapons raised.
Sedge smiled sweetly. "Look at you all! Cute."
He dropped a bead.
It bounced.
And bounced again.
And teleported behind one fighter.
Jimmy screamed, "WHY DOES HIS TRAP TELEPORT?!"
Julian had a meltdown: "PHYSICS IS CRYING!"
The bead detonated in a harmless concussive blast—harmless unless you counted knocking out three fighters and launching the fourth into a stalactite.
Teleport beams lit the cavern.
And then there was Giga-Ronin.
Eight fighters surrounded him. High-level elites. Their strategy was brilliant—grounding rods jabbed into the floor, chi-dampening chains whipped around him, elemental strikes coordinated to hit simultaneously.
For a moment—
they actually slowed him.
Then Giga-Ronin flexed.
The chains snapped.
The rods bent.
The ground cracked.
Giga roared like a war engine awakening.
He grabbed one fighter and hurled him into two others. He slammed a fist into the ground, sending a shockwave that knocked fighters in a full circle around him. A fire mage blasted him—Giga caught the flame, let it wash over him, and punched through it.
Eight became zero.
Swift watched. "He is evolution made flesh."
Jake whispered, "He is a nightmare made metal."
Jade was somewhere across the cavern, but everyone knew exactly where he was thanks to the explosion that rocked the chamber. Stone dust billowed upward. A fighter screamed. Another explosion followed. Shadeclaw sighed.
"That's Jade."
Swift nodded. "He enjoys his work."
And then the eliminations surged again.
Teleport beams flashed like stars blinking out.
The scoreboard ticked:
70
→ 67
→ 63
→ 60
Silence fell.
The fighters who remained looked like they'd crawled out of a battlefield graveyard. Cuts and bruises marked even the strongest. Clothes were torn. Armor cracked. Chi flickered. Mana wavered.
Swift steadied Jake.
Shadeclaw cracked his neck.
Tundra Lynx breathed frost.
Ember Claw shook sparks from his hands.
Mira stood motionless.
Sedge jingled a bead.
Giga-Ronin loomed like a monolith.
And somewhere, Jade cracked his arms:
CH-CHNK.
Above them, Danny and Wolf King stepped to the ledge.
Wolf King murmured, "Now they grow interesting."
Danny whispered, "Now the real tournament begins."
Below, the arena lights dimmed, shifting color—the signal.
The march to the Top 50 had begun.
Fighters Remaining: 60 / 500