The morning sun struck the banners of the Latian Clan like fire across silk, and the air itself seemed charged with anticipation. Four arenas thundered with the roar of crowds, the very stone beneath them trembling with excitement. Today, the semifinals would decide the champions of each arena — those who would clash in the grand finals tomorrow beneath the eyes of the entire clan and their honored guests.
The elders sat tall upon their dais, their gazes like iron as they surveyed the field. Heralds raised their voices, calling out the matchups, each name ringing like a bell across the clan grounds.
"The Dragon Turtle Arena! First semifinal match — Arven, son of Tal'Rael, versus Sylas, son of Mareth!"
Arven strode into the Dragon Turtle Arena with his characteristic poise, spear gleaming in his hand. His beast, a Flame-Scaled Lizard, emerged from his rune space in a hiss of smoke and fire, its scales shimmering red-orange under the sun. Across from him stood Sylas, whip coiled in one hand, his beast a Thunder Hawk whose wings sparked faint arcs of lightning.
The clash began in a storm of elements. The hawk dove, thunder cracking in its wake, while the Flame-Scaled Lizard spat fire that roared like a furnace. Arven spun his spear in precise arcs, each thrust punctuated by bursts of flame his beast lent him through their bond. Sylas lashed his whip in lightning-quick strikes, electricity hissing as it carved gouges in the arena floor.
The crowd roared when Arven pivoted into a Shadowfoot step, slipping under a crackling whip strike, then drove his spear upward in a sweeping thrust. His beast mirrored the movement, belching fire that engulfed the hawk mid-dive.
Sylas's beast shrieked, wings singed. Sylas himself staggered when Arven swept low, knocking his legs out and pinning him with the spear's point at his throat.
The herald's voice thundered:
"Victory! Arven, son of Tal'Rael, advances to the finals of the Dragon Turtle Arena!"
At the Azure Dragon Arena, the crowd shifted eagerly to the next stage. Here, Niarina, daughter of Veyra, faced off against Torik, son of Drelmar.
Niarina's beast was a Frostfang Panther, sleek and pale, exhaling mists of cold. Torik's beast was a Boulderback Ape, towering with slabs of stone-like muscle.
The first clash was a study in contrasts — speed against brute strength. Niarina danced in arcs of icy grace, her twin daggers flashing, each strike weaving with her beast's chilling aura. Torik bellowed, his ape pounding the ground, sending tremors through the floor, his own fists wrapped in earthen runes that made each strike a hammer blow.
Steel rang. Ice hissed. Stone cracked.
For long moments, it seemed Torik's sheer endurance might smother Niarina's speed. But then she whispered a technique, Frost Lotus Step, vanishing into a swirl of mist. She reappeared behind him, daggers poised, while her panther leapt to rake its claws down the ape's back.
Torik faltered, dropping to one knee under the dual assault. Niarina's dagger pressed against his neck, the frost creeping along its blade making the decision clear.
"Victory! Niarina, daughter of Veyra, advances to the finals of the Azure Dragon Arena!"
The herald's voice cut through the air, and the Phoenix Arena hushed with an almost reverent silence.
"Phoenix Arena! Semifinal match — Zed, son of Varun, versus Varrek, son of Jorath!"
The names hung heavy. Zed's opponent was Varrek, a warrior known for his brutal ferocity, his weapon of choice a massive greataxe etched with blood-red runes. His beast, a Hellhound, padded from his rune space with fire smoldering in its maw.
And Zed?
He walked in alone. No beast appeared beside him. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"He didn't summon… again?"
"Foolish boy. He thinks his body is enough?"
"No — he's clever. That zombie of his is useless. Better to rely on his own skill."
Varrek smirked, resting the greataxe across his shoulder. "No beast? Then I'll break you with my own hands."
The battle began with a storm of fury. Varrek swung the greataxe in wide, murderous arcs, each strike splitting the air with terrifying weight. The Hellhound leapt, fire spilling from its jaws.
Zed blurred into motion. Shadowfoot Movement carried him through the storm — a flicker to the left, a pivot to the right, always just out of reach. His dagger flashed, deflecting sparks off the greataxe, his movements precise and unrelenting.
The Hellhound lunged. Zed rolled under its flaming jaws, slashing its flank with Void Fangs, his dagger leaving runes of shadow that bled the beast's energy. He sprang up, twisting past Varrek's axe, and countered with a crushing kick to the warrior's ribs.
The clash raged across the arena, sparks and fire scattering. Varrek roared, slamming his axe down with such force the arena floor cracked. Zed vaulted onto the weapon's haft, sprinted along its length, and drove his dagger against Varrek's throat.
The crowd gasped. The Hellhound snarled, but froze as Zed's dagger hovered at the killing point.
"Victory! Zed, son of Varun, advances to the finals of the Phoenix Arena!"
The audience erupted. Some cheered, some muttered in disbelief. No beast. No borrowed strength. Just skill, speed, and sheer defiance.
The last semifinal battle took place at the Tiger Arena, where Roen, son of Dalric, faced Serana, daughter of Kairis.
Roen's beast was a Steelfang Boar, bristling with tusks like swords. Serana's was a Crimson Viper, coiled and venomous.
Roen charged headlong, his boar bellowing, tusks tearing furrows in the arena floor. Serana stood calm, whip-sword unraveling in her hand. With every strike, her viper mirrored her, darting with lightning speed.
The clash was vicious. The boar's tusks clanged against the whip-sword's chain, sparks flying. Roen battered forward, but Serana wove around his power, her serpent striking again and again, injecting venom that slowed the boar's frenzy.
The finishing blow came when Serana lashed her whip-sword around Roen's weapon, yanking it aside. Her viper lunged, fangs at his throat — not to kill, but to claim victory.
"Victory! Serana, daughter of Kairis, advances to the finals of the Tiger Arena!"
The sun dipped low, painting the clan grounds in crimson and gold. The heralds proclaimed the names of the arena champions:
"Dragon Turtle Arena — Arven, son of Tal'Rael!"
"Azure Dragon Arena — Niarina, daughter of Veyra!"
"Phoenix Arena — Zed, son of Varun!"
"Tiger Arena — Serana, daughter of Kairis!"
The crowd thundered in applause. Four champions had risen from 128 contenders. Tomorrow, they would clash in the grand finals to decide the champion of the Latian Clan's Trial of Youths.
But tonight, whispers spread through the crowd, centered on one name.
Zed. The boy with no beast at his side. The boy who fought with nothing but his own strength. The boy who, against all expectations, had claimed the Phoenix Arena.