The crowd in Braggon Vale was louder than ever, the electrifying tension almost tangible as the next match was announced.
"Next up! Velmora's Zarek Volen versus Braggon Vale's Kiro Vant!" the announcer's voice boomed through the arena, drawing wild cheers.
Zarek stepped into the arena, fire and lightning crackling around his fists, his usually calm expression replaced with a hint of anticipation. Across from him stood Kiro Vant, except something about him didn't sit right. Kenneth narrowed his eyes from the Velmora stand, his instincts flaring.
"That's not him," Kenneth thought, his body tense. He leaned closer to the edge of his seat, his senses heightened. Kiro's scent was familiar, but not because of past interactions. No. It was familiar in a more terrifying, ancient way.
Malrik's words echoed in his mind. "Always trust your instincts around vampires. Their masks are nearly perfect, but the stench of blood never leaves."
The referee signaled, and the match began.
Zarek surged forward, launching a bolt of lightning from his palm. It tore across the arena floor, aimed straight at Kiro's chest. But to everyone's surprise, Kiro didn't dodge. Instead, with a flick of his wrist, a dense wall of congealed blood materialized in front of him, absorbing the attack entirely.
"What the hell?!" Jaxon muttered from the stands. "Since when does Kiro use blood abilities?"
Cassian frowned. "He registered as a gravity manipulator, didn't he? This isn't right."
Kenneth said nothing, only clenching his fists tighter.
Back in the arena, Zarek didn't hesitate. He leapt into the air, calling down a furious storm of lightning from the sky. The bolts rained down like divine punishment, but again, Kiro deflected them using crimson blades of blood that formed from thin air, redirecting the energy back toward Zarek.
Zarek barely dodged, gritting his teeth. He had faced powerful opponents before, but this was different. This was... unnatural.
"You're stronger than I thought," Kiro said with a smirk that wasn't his. His eyes glinted with something predatory. "But you're not the one I'm here for."
Zarek charged again, fire now engulfing his fists. He ducked under a blood spear, spun, and delivered a flaming punch to Kiro's side. The impact sent the imposter skidding across the arena, smoke trailing from his cloak.
For a moment, the crowd erupted, cheering for Velmora.
But Kiro stood slowly, cracking his neck.
"Not bad. But it ends now."
In a blur, he vanished—not teleportation, but sheer speed. Before Zarek could react, he was struck from behind, then the front, then both sides. Blood whips wrapped around his limbs, pulling him down. Kiro appeared above him and slammed his foot into Zarek's chest with bone-breaking force.
The audience gasped as Zarek's body smashed into the arena floor, coughing up blood.
"ZAREK!" Kenneth stood up, his voice silent but his heart screaming. He gritted his teeth as he watched his friend struggle to move.
"How is he this strong... this isn't Kiro..." Cassian whispered.
Jaxon was already halfway to stepping down from the stands before Aeron stopped him. "Wait. This is bigger than us."
Zarek tried to push himself up, sparks still dancing at his fingertips.
But Kiro wasn't finished. He lifted his hand and formed a long, jagged sword of blood. With a savage strike, he slashed across Zarek's chest, sending him flying into the arena wall with a sickening crack. The medical team rushed to the barrier, but couldn't enter until the fight was officially called.
Zarek collapsed, unable to move.
The announcer hesitated before declaring, "Winner... Kiro Vant of Braggon Vale!"
The imposter stood over Zarek's unconscious form for a moment, breathing deeply.
Then he turned his gaze to the Velmora stand, locking eyes with Kenneth. A slow, cruel smile stretched across his lips, and he mouthed something only Kenneth could read: "You're next."
Kenneth felt ice in his veins. That smile... that aura... it wasn't just bloodlust. It was ownership.
The imposter turned and walked off the arena, his cloak billowing behind him.
Zarek was rushed off on a stretcher, unconscious and broken.
"This doesn't make sense," one of the Braggon Vale students murmured. "That's not Kiro's fighting style at all."
"Zarek is no pushover," Zenya said from the Arvellen stand. "He should've lasted longer. Something's off."
Cassian stood slowly. "Kenneth. You felt it too, didn't you?"
Kenneth didn't respond. His jaw clenched, eyes still fixed on the direction the imposter had vanished into.
Kael, ever emotionless, merely observed. "The blood magic he used is ancient. Forbidden. Only one kind of creature would use such a style..."
Aeron, arms folded, muttered, "Whatever it is, if it wants a fight with us, it's got one."
Kenneth finally sat back down, but the tension in his body hadn't eased. Something was very wrong, and he knew it. Malrik had warned him. The vampires were moving.
And now, they were closer than anyone thought.
This wasn't just a tournament anymore. It was a hunt. And Kenneth was the prey.
He clenched his fists, his lightning crackling softly across his skin.
"If you're coming for me," he whispered under his breath, "you better make sure I stay down. Because I'm not the scared kid you remember."
The tournament continued, but in the shadows, the real battle had just begun.