The city was silent, as if everything had held its breath. Novan, Des, John, Don, and Ban stood at the entrance of the arena, each feeling the weight of tension in their chest, yet confident in their last six days of training.
Morgan appeared behind them quietly:
"Today, you will understand the meaning of true power… and what you haven't trained for will appear before you."
Suddenly, the air quivered, and a tall, thin shadow emerged in the middle of the arena, its eyes glowing with a cold smile.
Novan held his breath:
"Who's there…?"
Morgan spoke slowly:
"This… is Morth."
Des stared at him cautiously:
"I feel something strange… my nerves… they feel like they don't obey me."
Morth smiled inhumanly and spoke in a voice that pierced their minds:
"I know everything you think… every step, every intention… even your doubts… none of it escapes me."
Novan tried to stay composed:
"We won't let him control us. Our strength isn't just in abilities… it's in our will."
Ban whispered:
"Every training, every mistake we made, has become part of our strength… we will not fear."
Des said:
"Even if he tries to control my nerves… I won't let him."
Morth let out a cold laugh:
"Courage does not stop fear… it makes fear a tool for me."
Then he struck.
Don and John tried to resist, Morgan stood before them to protect them, but Morth's overwhelming power exceeded all expectations. The wind, the touch, the air—all under his command.
Novan screamed in a broken voice:
"Don! John!"
Ban tried to calm him:
"Stay calm… but we've lost them…"
Don fell to the ground, eyes full of shock and fear, speaking in a weak voice:
"I never imagined… it would end like this…"
John smiled with difficulty, holding Novan's hand:
"Don't be afraid… keep going… you are the future…"
The moment of their fall was devastating. Novan's heart shattered, Des froze, and Ban felt the weight of their loss on everyone.
Morth raised his voice loudly:
"Why, Iris? I want to enjoy this more!"
At that moment, the sound of a horn appeared—signaling Iris:
"Morth… return to Korva now!"
Iris appeared, radiating the power of her sixth rank:
"The seventh-ranked fighters… everyone stronger than you in Korva teaches you that strength isn't measured only by brutality… but by wisdom and will."
Novan whispered:
"All of this… these ranks… this power… the road ahead is still long."
Before Morth disappeared, the mysterious old man Novan met at the café suddenly appeared, his voice deep and calm, carrying the weight of power:
"Stop… you enter my territory, kill, and leave without me lifting a finger?"
Iris replied coldly:
"These are the ranks. Anyone who was strong there… there is always someone stronger than you."
The old man smiled wickedly and answered:
"The power of ranks isn't just numbers… it's will. You think you have control? I'm here to prove otherwise."
The air grew heavy, shadows shifted, and everyone's hearts raced. A new dread loomed over the arena, where this wasn't just a physical confrontation, but a true test of will and psyche…