The arena hated this.
It was just stone and steel and rune-woven supports, a machine built by hands that thought they were stronger than the things they contained. But even so, as the builder bots trundled off the floor and the last of the dust from Jade's match settled into the cracks, the coliseum felt… tight. Strained. Like it knew it was about to be asked to hold something it couldn't.
The lights dimmed.
The crowd didn't roar at first. A wave of murmurs rippled around the stands, a swell of whispers and nervous laughter. They'd seen monsters, dragons, psychic horrors. They'd watched wolves tear people apart. They'd just watched Jade nearly beat another fighter to death with his own chi.
And still, this felt different.
A low gong shuddered through the air.
"Next match," the system voice intoned, deeper than usual, like it had dragged itself out of a grave. "Wolf King versus Giga-Ronin."
The silence snapped.
"YEAH!"
"WOLF KING! WOLF KING!"
"GIGA-RONIN'S GONNA CRUSH HIM!"
"No way, the King is gonna tear that robot in half!"
Jimmy gripped his mic with both hands. He wasn't bouncing this time. Too much coiled energy in the air. "Ohhh we are doing this now. We are actually doing this now. Julian, confirm for the lovely people at home—did the arena sign a waiver?"
Julian skimmed rapidly through diagnostics. "Construction parameters are… not designed for this. But reinforcements are at maximum. If they breach the central bedrock, I assume no responsibility."
"I assume enjoyment," Jimmy said.
Down below, the fighters had instinctively moved farther away from the combat zone, crowding along the upper walkways or standing flush against the far barriers.
Jake latched both hands onto the safety rail and tried not to breathe too loud. "We're about to watch actual murder, aren't we?"
Swift's wings were half-unfurled, silver scales faintly visible along his neck. He didn't answer.
Danny stood with his arms folded, expression calm, but his eyes were sharp, pupils slightly narrowed. Every instinct he had was awake. The Wolf King's presence had been heavy before.
Now?
It felt like pressure building before a volcanic eruption.
On another platform, Wolf Queen stared down at the stone with an expression that was definitely not concern.
Pride, maybe. Hunger. Anticipation.
Shadeclaw leaned against the wall, claws trailing faint grooves in the metal, lips pulled back in a wolfish grin.
Jade, wrapped in bandages and strapped into a slime-supported hover chair, slurred, "If I die, I want it to be less bad than what's about to happen down there."
Ember Claw said nothing. He just watched. Of everyone, he understood violence between apex predators the best.
The east gate rumbled open.
Giga-Ronin stepped out.
He was huge even by the tournament's warped standards. Not as tall as some of the giants from earlier rounds, but denser. He was built like an armored temple that had decided it was tired of being immobile. Plates of alloy overlapped across his frame, jointed and reinforced, all of it held together by whining hydraulics and inner power coils that glowed faint red. The scars from earlier chaos phases had been patched over with hastily welded armor bands that gave him a stitched-together, war-torn appearance.
His first step cracked the stone.
"Participant: Giga-Ronin," the system announced. "Status: Optimal Combat Condition."
He walked toward the center of the arena with deliberate, heavy pacing. Each impact of his feet sent a small shockwave humming through the floor, causing dust to trickle from the upper walls. His optics scanned the space, then angled toward the opposite gate.
He stopped in the dead center and bowed.
"Wolf King," his voice boomed, modulated but with an odd, solemn resonance. "I stand as steel. I request your full power. Anything less is an insult."
Even from the stands, people shivered.
Julian murmured, "Giga-Ronin has activated pre-fight honor protocol. He intends to fight to system failure."
"I intend to watch that," Jimmy said. "Very closely."
The west gate didn't just open. It slammed.
Metal screamed. The gate doors flew outward like faintly controlled violence had shoved them, and out of the resulting darkness came the Wolf King.
He did not hurry.
He did not saunter.
He moved like the only predator in a world full of prey: no need to rush, nowhere to be late for, nobody who could make him.
His frame was massive, taller than most wolves, broader in the shoulders than a small truck. Fur as dark as midnight lined his back, tipped in silver that shimmered faintly as if holding moonlight even in the hard arena glow. His chest and arms were corded with muscle, scars cutting through fur, each old wound a story of something that had tried and failed to kill him.
His eyes glowed golden, focused, calm.
Around him, the very air shimmered with subtle heat.
Jake clutched the rail harder. "Why is it hot all of a sudden?"
Swift swallowed. "Because he isn't holding it back anymore."
Danny exhaled slowly. "That's not his full power." A beat. "But it's close."
Wolf King stepped onto the stone square.
The arena groaned.
It was probably the supports settling. Probably.
He came to a stop opposite Giga-Ronin. The steel warrior towered, thick and armed, a walking fortress.
The King did not bow.
He rolled his shoulders in a slow, loose motion, claws flexing, each digit ending in curved, razor-keen tips that could slice through lesser fighters like paper. There was a stillness in him. No showboating, no theatrics. Just absolute certainty.
He tilted his head slightly. "You wish to die properly," he said. His voice was gravel and thunder. "I will accommodate you."
Gasps and feral cheers bled together in the stands.
Giga-Ronin straightened.
"My path is steel. My end is inevitable." His optics brightened. "It will be honored."
The chime struck.
They moved.
There was no feeling-out phase. No testing jabs. Giga-Ronin launched forward, every hydraulic screaming as he boosted with full power into a piston-driven charge, fists pulled back to smash.
Wolf King met him halfway.
Two forces collided in the center of the square.
The impact was an explosion without flame.
Stone caved. The air compressed. Dust blasted outward in a visible ring, slamming against the barrier with a ripple.
Giga-Ronin's right fist crashed into Wolf King's guard. The King's forearm caught the blow. Alloy slammed into flesh and bone, but it was the metal that screamed. Wolf King's muscles bunched; his arm held steady.
His other arm swung in a clawed hook that slammed into Giga-Ronin's chest.
Three layers of alloy dented inward with a single thunderous crack.
The mech staggered three steps back, chest plate now bearing a deep, curved crater that sparked and spat shorn metal.
The audience lost its mind.
"HE DENTED HIM!"
"That armor is rated for artillery!"
"WHAT IS HE MADE OF?!"
Julian's eyes were wide. "Giga-Ronin's primary chest plating is reinforced tungsten-alloy. That should not—cannot—"
Jimmy shrieked, "HE'S A KING, JULIAN! TITLES MATTER!"
Wolf King stepped forward, his claws leaving faint scorch marks where they touched stone. "You stand," he observed. "Good."
Giga-Ronin's systems recalibrated with a mechanical whine. "Damage accepted." He dropped into a lower stance, bracing. "Adjusting estimates."
He drove forward again, this time unleashing a barrage.
His fists turned into blurs—piston-powered jabs, elbows snapping like pistons themselves, each strike backed by enough force to reduce a car to scrap. Wolf King blocked some, turned others aside with forearm and shoulder, let a few land with deliberate acceptance.
Each impact that connected sounded like someone hammering a mountain with a sledge.
One punch slammed into his ribs; his fur rippled, breath hissing out his nostrils in a brief burst.
Another crashed into his shoulder hard enough to make his muscles twitch.
A third hammered down at his skull.
Wolf King ducked, the metal fist grazing his ear and smashing into the stone behind him, driving a crater three feet deep.
He came up under the arm.
His fist drove into Giga-Ronin's gut plating.
This time, the metal didn't just dent.
It cracked.
A spiderweb of fractures raced out under his knuckles, chips of alloy spraying, an ugly crunch resounding from deep within the mech's chest.
Giga-Ronin's voice glitched, one syllable stuttering as internal components took the shock.
Wolf King smiled, a slow, terrible curl of his lips that showed fang. Heat flickered behind them, a faint glimmer of orange.
He smelled metal. He smelled oil. He smelled fear—not from the machine, but from the arena, from the crowd, from every onlooker who suddenly realized what it meant for something that strong to be on the field and not be the final boss.
Giga-Ronin jerked back, servos whining, and jumped—
Actually jumped, metal frame launching upward with a hydraulic burst to gain altitude. For a creature that size, the leap was terrifying, a comet of steel arcing over the center of the arena.
He came down with both fists together, a hammer blow aimed to crush the Wolf King into paste.
Wolf King didn't dodge.
He planted his feet.
He lifted both arms and caught the double-fist slam on his forearms.
The world broke.
Stone shattered downward. The floor under the King's feet gave way in a circle, collapsing into a jagged bowl as the force of the blow drove him half a meter into the ground.
Up in the stands, people fell over. The barrier field flared to life, catching dust and chunks of debris.
Wolf King's arms shook.
For one moment—just one—Giga-Ronin forced him down.
Steam hissed from Ronin's vents. "Impact successful," he said, voice vibrating with the output. "Confirmed: you can be moved."
Wolf King looked up at him.
His eyes were no longer just golden.
They were burning.
"You mistake that for triumph," he growled.
Flame licked out from between his teeth.
Jake made an involuntary squeak. "He's on fire. He's actually on fire now. Why is he on fire."
"Ancient wolf lines could channel elemental chi," Danny said quietly. His eyes never left the arena. "Most lost it. He didn't."
The King let go of Giga-Ronin's fists.
His arms blurred upward, claws tearing gouges up the mech's arms, sending whole strips of alloy screaming into the air.
He stepped out of the crater, one foot slamming forward. Stone tried to resist and failed.
He drove his head into Giga-Ronin's chest in a brutal, hornless headbutt that would have killed anything with a skull. The metal crumpled further inward, the cracks widening like breaking ice. A dull, ugly crunch sounded deep in the ronin's torso as something structural gave way.
Giga-Ronin was thrown backward, feet tearing twin trenches in the stone as he was pushed across the arena by sheer impact. He hit the far wall hard enough to crack it.
His systems scrambled.
"You… are… strong," he said, voice glitching, still weirdly calm.
"Not yet," Wolf King said. "You haven't seen strong."
Giga-Ronin's chest plates shifted.
Panels slid aside with the smoothness of well-oiled machinery, revealing inner coils glowing hotter, brighter. His internal generator whined up.
Julian's console screamed warnings. "He's entering overdrive. That's not regulation. That's suicidal."
Jimmy leaned so hard against the glass he left a nose print. "Good. Suicidal makes for great television."
"Overdrive mode: engaged," Giga-Ronin intoned. "Katabatsu protocol… initiating."
His frame expanded subtly as the inner support struts locked into new positions. The glow from his chest spilled through the cracks in his armor, lighting the broken dents from within. His arms thickened; his fists shook with compressed force. The temperature around him spiked.
He slammed both fists together.
The shockwave from that alone rattled teeth.
Then he charged.
He moved faster than before—much faster. The weight of a building, driven with the speed of a sprinting truck, bearing down on the Wolf King with full, suicidal commitment.
Wolf King did not brace this time.
He met the charge head-on.
They collided in the middle again.
This time, Wolf King was knocked backward.
The crowd screamed as the King's body tore a gouge across the floor before he dug his claws in and stopped. A smear of blood glistened on his chest where Giga-Ronin's overdriven fists had hit—a rare thing. The King looked down at the streak of red, rolled his shoulders again, and laughed.
It was not a kind sound.
"You wound me," he said. "Good."
His fur bristled.
His aura surged.
Silver light crawled over his back like moonlight running across water. Fire flickered higher behind his teeth, then licked along his gums, spilling between them in thin ribbons of elementally fueled rage.
He inhaled.
The air trembled.
Then he exhaled in a roar that shook the entire arena.
It was not just sound. It was pressure, intent, ancient predatory dominance given voice. The blast of force hit Giga-Ronin like a physical blow, shoving the metal warrior back a full step, skidding his great frame.
Dust cascaded from the rafters. Sections of the upper wall cracked audibly. A few spectators screamed and clutched their ears, overcome.
Down below, Swift braced himself against the rail, eyes wide. "That… isn't just chi."
"No," Danny agreed. He could feel it in his bones, in whatever passed for bones in his real form. "That's what a king sounds like."
Wolf King's eyes were white-hot now, the gold swallowed by the intensity.
The crescent-shaped scar burned into the fur on his back ignited, wreathing his spine in pale fire.
"Moonfang Ascension," Shadeclaw whispered, practically salivating.
The King dropped to all fours for a heartbeat, muscles roping, claws digging furrows. Then he surged forward, covering the distance between himself and Giga-Ronin in a blink.
His claws hit first.
He didn't aim for plates this time. He aimed for seams.
One swipe tore through the gap between shoulder and chest, ripping free a chunk of armor and exposing cables and gleaming hydraulic lines beneath. Fluid sprayed, hot and pressurized. It hissed as it hit the King's burning fur, sizzling.
Another slash took the opposite arm, carving so deep the metal hung partly loose.
Giga-Ronin swung, his overdrive-powered fist arcing in a killing blow. Wolf King ducked inside it, letting the punch graze his back and pulverize the wall behind him instead.
He bit down on Giga-Ronin's forearm.
Flame roared from his mouth as his teeth sank into alloy.
Metal shrieked.
It didn't just bend. It softened. Molten edges dripped like slag from a forge as his flaming bite crushed through the support structure.
Giga-Ronin's arm detached under the strain, ripped free in a spray of sparks and fluid.
The crowd went from screaming to a high-pitched noise that didn't have words.
Wolf King spat the half-melted hunk of metal aside, jaw charred but healing even as he turned.
Giga-Ronin staggered, one arm gone, systems shrieking internal alarms.
"Damage critical," he said. "Maintaining… combat… function."
He tried to swing with his remaining arm. The King caught it with both hands, twisted, and with a roar, ripped that arm free too.
The sound of tearing metal and snapping support rods was like a building collapsing.
Giga-Ronin dropped to his knees, armless, chest heaving as if he still breathed.
The Wolf King stood over him, fur steaming, flames dancing between his teeth with every breath.
"Your honor is real," the King said. "Your strength is admirable."
He reached down and grabbed the front of Giga-Ronin's chest plate, fingers digging into the already fractured alloy.
"But this arena demands an ending."
He pulled.
The plate gave way with a horrific screech, ripping open like a tin can. Beneath it, delicate arrays of circuits, coiled power conduits, and a central core glowed with desperate light.
Giga-Ronin's voice crackled. "I see… now… why they… call you… King."
Wolf King leaned in.
For a heartbeat, his gaze softened with something like respect.
"Rest, ronin," he said.
Then he sank his burning fangs into the exposed core.
Fire erupted from his mouth, white-hot, lancing into the heart of the machine. The core flared, overloaded, crackling with arcs of electricity that danced along the King's fur and out into the air before being swallowed by his aura.
The light went out.
Giga-Ronin's optics dimmed.
His massive frame sagged, then toppled backward, slamming into the stone with a dead weight that shook the arena one last time.
Silence.
Wolf King stood over the corpse of steel, chest heaving, blood running from shallow cuts along his arms and sides, some fur charred black where heat had burned his own body. His eyes were wild fire and cold judgment.
Up in the stands, no one spoke.
Then, somewhere in the upper rows, someone started clapping.
Another joined.
And then the entire arena erupted into hysterical, terrified, worshipful applause and howling.
"WOLF KING! WOLF KING! WOLF KING!"
Jimmy found his voice again. "I—he—DID YOU ALL SEE THAT?! GIGA-RONIN JUST GOT TURNED INTO SCRAP METAL AND A MORAL LESSON!"
Julian stared down at his cracked console, hair slightly askew from the vibration. "The arena has suffered… unprecedented damage. My readings are… I have no words for this."
"That's because the only word is 'KING,' JULIAN!"
On the fighters' platform, Jake's knees gave out. He slumped against the rail. "Nope. No. I'm out. I'm forfeiting fights I'm not even in."
Swift's throat worked. "That… that's who Danny has to fight at the end?"
Danny watched the King walk off the stone, flames receding slowly from his claws.
"Yes," he said. "That's one of them."
Wolf Queen's eyes gleamed with feral pride as her King approached the exit tunnel. Shadeclaw lowered his head slightly as the King passed, a predator's nod to the apex.
Wolf King did not look at anyone direct.
But as he neared the edge of the arena, his gaze slid up, just once, to meet Danny's.
For a moment, dragon and wolf stared at each other across the battered stone and roaring crowd.
No words.
Just a promise.
Then the Wolf King turned and vanished back into the tunnel, leaving behind the wreckage of steel and the memory of a roar that would haunt the arena for a long time.
No scoreboard appeared.
There was no need.
Everyone who saw it understood:
The Wolf King was not just a contender.
He was a calamity dressed in fur.