The Hollow Pit roared like a living beast as Ilyanna stepped down into the packed dirt arena. The heat from the braziers lining the walls mixed with the stink of sweat, ale, and blood. She moved with steady, deliberate steps, her expression unreadable.
Above her, the wooden stands creaked under the weight of the cheering crowd. Isaac Arturo sat in his private balcony, a goblet of wine in hand, watching her like a cat eying a trapped mouse.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer's voice boomed. "Our next challenger—an unarmed little bird from the streets—versus the reigning pit mage herself, the Blazing Viper!"
From the opposite gate, her opponent emerged. She was a tall, lean woman in crimson robes lined with gold, her black hair tied in a sleek braid. A small smirk curved her lips, her amber eyes locked on Ilyanna with predatory confidence.
The woman's fingers flexed, and faint heat shimmered in the air around her.
"I'm Selena," she said as they met in the center. "You'll be ash in under a minute."
Ilyanna's gaze didn't waver. "Try me."
The arena master barked, "Begin!"
Selena moved first, her hands a blur as a fireball bloomed into existence and shot toward Ilyanna. The crowd roared, expecting an early hit.
But Ilyanna wasn't there.
In a flash, she had Blinked to the side, reappearing just beyond the edge of the incoming flames. Dirt hissed where the fireball struck, blackening instantly.
Selena raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you're quick. Good. I like a little exercise before I win."
Another flick of her wrist, and three smaller firebolts spiraled toward Ilyanna. This time, Ilyanna ducked low and rolled forward, closing the distance in seconds. The instant she was within striking range, her fist lashed out—only for Selena to catch it with one hand and twist.
Ilyanna grunted as pain flared in her wrist, but she pivoted with the motion, kicking sharply at Selena's knee. Selena staggered, her smirk faltering.
"Not bad," Selena said, her tone almost playful. Then her free hand snapped up and an arc of flame burst between them.
Ilyanna leapt back, the heat licking her skin. The crowd howled in approval, stomping their feet in a rhythm that made the pit floor vibrate.
Selena advanced now, her hands weaving intricate motions. Fire coiled around her like living snakes, snapping and hissing. She lashed one toward Ilyanna's legs, forcing the archer to Blink again—this time to Selena's flank.
Ilyanna struck, aiming a sharp elbow toward her opponent's ribs, but Selena twisted away, countering with a flaming palm strike that singed Ilyanna's sleeve.
The smell of burnt fabric hit Ilyanna's nose. She didn't flinch.
Selena smirked. "You're tough. I'll give you that. But toughness doesn't beat fire."
Ilyanna didn't answer. She was studying the rhythm—how Selena conjured fire with her left hand while keeping her right ready for grapples and strikes. A dual fighter. That meant close range was dangerous… but not impossible.
The next wave of flame came low, aiming to sweep Ilyanna's legs. She jumped, tucking her knees midair, and landed in a crouch. Selena's follow-up strike came fast—a hook punch that glowed faintly red with heat.
Ilyanna leaned just enough for it to graze past her cheek, then snapped her head forward, cracking her forehead into Selena's nose.
Selena reeled back with a hiss, blood welling. The crowd went wild.
"You—" Selena spat a fleck of crimson, eyes blazing hotter than her magic. "You'll regret that."
The next flurry was faster, wilder. Firebolts rained down like a storm, forcing Ilyanna into constant motion—Blink, sidestep, roll, duck. The air was sweltering now, each near miss making sweat bead across her forehead.
She needed to end this before exhaustion slowed her down.
Selena drew back both hands, flames swirling into a massive orb above her. The crowd's roar grew deafening. "Burn!" she shouted, hurling it straight at Ilyanna.
Ilyanna didn't dodge.
Instead, she dashed forward, timing her Wind Step perfectly. The burst of speed carried her under the arc of the fireball, so close she felt her hair singe. The orb slammed into the arena wall behind her in an explosion of sparks and heat.
Selena's eyes widened in surprise—too late. Ilyanna closed the gap and drove a palm strike into her stomach, knocking the wind from her. Selena doubled over, but Ilyanna didn't stop. She hooked Selena's ankle with her foot, yanking hard, and the mage went down hard onto her back.
Ilyanna straddled her instantly, grabbing Selena's robe collar and pulling her face close.
"Yield," she said coldly.
Selena's lips curled. "Never." Her hands twitched, fire beginning to spark again—
—but Ilyanna slammed her elbow into Selena's jaw with enough force to rattle teeth. The flames sputtered out.
Selena blinked groggily, her breath coming in short bursts. She glanced toward Isaac's balcony, as if searching for permission.
Isaac was leaning forward now, wine forgotten, his smirk gone. After a beat, he gave the faintest shrug.
Selena's shoulders sagged. "Fine," she spat. "I yield."
The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and boos, some thrilled by the upset, others furious at losing their bets.
The announcer's voice boomed over the noise. "And the winner—against all odds—Ilyanna of the Silver Phantom!"
James nearly collapsed with relief in the waiting area as Ilyanna walked off the dirt floor, sweat-soaked but steady.
Merid rushed to meet her. "I—thank you. You—" She stopped herself, clearly realizing this wasn't the moment for sentiment.
Isaac descended from his balcony, slow-clapping as he approached. His smile had returned, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"Well, well," he drawled. "It seems I underestimated you, little bird. A mistake I won't make twice."
He gestured, and one of his men brought forth a small box. Inside was the silver ring, gleaming under the torchlight. Another thug shoved a dazed but unharmed Pepe toward Merid.
"Your friend. Your trinket. As promised," Isaac said. Then his tone dropped. "But remember—every debt has a price. And I'm not done with you yet."
He turned and strode away before anyone could respond.
Ilyanna slipped the heirloom into Merid's trembling hands. "Let's get out of here."
As they left the Hollow Pit, James glanced at her. "You okay?"
She smirked faintly. "Ask me again when my knuckles stop hurting."