The roaring thunder of fifty thousand voices echoed through the massive expanse of the central Tournament Stadium, vibrating the heavy steel trusses, energy banners, and crystal display arrays hanging above the arena. After the terrifying cosmic anomalies and the bloody, high-intensity showdowns of the earlier groups, the energy throughout the complex had reached a fever pitch. The stadium floor had been completely rebuilt by the engineering formation masters—its shattered alloy plating swapped out for reinforced, shock-absorbent titanium boards that gleamed under the blazing stadium floodlights.
High up in the main overhead display, a gigantic holographic light-array flared to life in brilliant golden runes:
**GROUP 4 - MATCH 13**
"Ladies and gentlemen, martial artists, realm travelers, and esteemed guests from across the vast cosmos!" the lead referee's voice boomed over the high-output amplification speakers, driving the crowd into another wave of wild cheers. "We move directly into the opening bout of Group 4! Today, we witness two young prodigies who rely neither on long-range artillery, ancient staffs, nor complex spell arrays! They bring pure, unadulterated physical conditioning and heavy-impact fist techniques! Prepare yourselves for a battle of raw brawn!"
High up in the central VIP viewing suite, Lam leaned against the reinforced obsidian glass window, his dark eyes watching the twin iron gates at opposite ends of the arena floor. Beside him, Shoaib, Krodh, and Bayu leaned over the polished balcony railing, while King Mufasa sat stoically on his central stone throne, his grand aura looming like an immovable mountain over the room.
"Group 4, Match 13..." Shoaib said, pulling up the tactical roster on his wrist terminal. A wide grin broke across his face. "Asad has been pacing back and forth in the waiting tunnel ever since Draz finished his match. You know how he gets when it comes to pure close-quarters brawling."
"His opponent is no push-over," Bayu noted, swiping through the combat registry for Group 4. "Dunga. Ten years old, hailing from the heavy-gravity training grounds of the Western Marches. The kid has built an absolute reputation in the outer rings for having some of the most devastating fist techniques in his age bracket. He doesn't use shields, he doesn't use tactical evasion spells, and he doesn't carry a single weapon. He just walks forward and punches straight through whatever stands in front of him."
"Ten years old?" Lam murmured, a subtle smile touching the corner of his lips. "Asad is going to be thrilled. He's been complaining about fighting older opponents all week."
Down on the arena floor, the heavy iron archway of the Eastern Gate groaned as its massive hydraulic gears began to turn.
"Introducing first, entering from the Eastern Gate!" the referee announced, pointing dramatically toward the left side of the stadium. "Standing at ten years old, representing the rising generation of elite martial brawlers... ASADULLAH!"
Asad stepped out from the shadowed archway and into the bright sunlight of the open-roof stadium. He wore lightweight dark green combat trousers wrapped with heavy leather belts, his upper body clad in a tight, flexible black martial arts gi. His knuckles were tightly bound in white spirit-cloth wraps, and his sharp, clear eyes scanned the immense arena with unbridled enthusiasm. The moment the sunlight hit his face, Asad let out a deep breath, cracking his knuckles one by one with loud, satisfying pops.
He had spent weeks watching older, high-tier fighters display complex magic, spatial manipulation, and massive energy constructs. To finally step onto the grand stage of the Tournament Stadium, carrying his own strength on his shoulders, made his heart race with pure, joyful adrenaline.
Simultaneously, the heavy iron gates at the opposite side of the stadium began to lift with a deep, metallic rumble that echoed through the lower stands.
"And his opponent, entering from the Western Gate!" the referee shouted, gesturing toward the opposite archway. "Also ten years old, a raw, unstoppable force of pure martial instinct from the Western Marches... DUNGA!"
Out from the Western Gate strode Dunga. He was roughly the exact same height as Asad, possessing a compact, muscular build forged through relentless physical conditioning and high-gravity training. He wore bright red combat shorts, his bare chest displaying minor training scars, and his spiky black hair stood up in wild tufts. His hands were wrapped in thick crimson leather bindings that pulsed with a faint, heavy kinetic aura. A wild, toothy grin was plastered across Dunga's face as he jogged onto the stage, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a seasoned prize-fighter entering a championship ring.
As both ten-year-old boys walked toward the center of the ring, their eyes locked. There was no hatred, no malice, and no bitter political rivalry between them. There was only the pure, instinctual recognition of two young predators who shared the exact same passion: fighting with everything they had.
"Hey!" Dunga called out, stopping ten meters away and raising his wrapped fists into a classic high guard. His eyes sparkled with excitement. "You're Asad, right? I watched your entrance in the registry! They said you're ten years old too!"
Asad stopped, dropping into a wide, balanced martial stance, his left fist extended forward and his right fist tucked neatly near his hip. A bright, genuine smile broke across Asad's face.
"Yeah! Exactly ten!" Asad replied, his voice filled with delight. "It's awesome to fight someone my exact age! Most of the guys in these tournaments are way older or rely on giant swords and elemental tricks."
"Right?!" Dunga laughed heartily, bouncing on his feet and snapping a quick left-right shadow punch into the air. "Who needs giant swords when you've got these? I heard your fists are heavy, Asad! Don't hold back on me, alright? If you try to play it safe, I'm gonna knock you right out of this stadium!"
"Hold back?" Asad chuckled, his spirit aura igniting around his knuckles in a subtle, dense flicker of golden-red energy. "Not a chance, Dunga! Let's give everyone in this stadium a real show!"
The official referee floated up on his anti-gravity platform above the center of the ring, watching both boys take their combat positions. He raised his hand high into the air, the bright overhead lights reflecting off his diagnostic tablet.
"Fighters ready!" the referee shouted.
Asad lowered his center of gravity, his boots gripping the titanium floorboards. Dunga tightened his jaw, his crimson-wrapped fists glowing with a heavy, surging kinetic pressure.
"MATCH 13... BEGIN!"
*BOOM!*
The moment the referee's hand dropped, both boys vanished from their starting positions simultaneously!
The atmospheric pressure where they had been standing exploded into small shockwaves of compressed wind as both ten-year-olds surged straight toward the center of the ring at blistering speeds! They met dead-center in a blinding collision of physical power!
**Mighty Fist!**
**Mighty Fist!**
Asad's right fist, wrapped in dense, high-grade Brawl Type Urja, collided directly against Dunga's right fist, which was surged with an identical layer of explosive Brawl Type energy!
*KABOOOOOOOM!*
A violent, spherical shockwave of raw kinetic pressure erupted from the point of impact! The sheer force of their clashing fists blew the dust off the titanium floorboards in a perfect, expanding ring for twenty meters in every direction. The sound of their collision echoed through the arena like two heavy iron anvil blocks being smashed together at high velocity!
Neither boy yielded an inch! Their knuckles remained locked together in mid-air, muscles straining, feet digging deep grooves into the reinforced titanium stage as they poured their raw physical strength into the impact!
"Whoa!" Dunga yelled through his gritted teeth, his eyes wide with thrill as he felt the sheer density of Asad's physical pressure. "Your raw brawn is unbelievable, Asad!"
"You're not so bad yourself!" Asad barked back, grinning through the kinetic feedback vibrating up his forearm!
With a synchronized roar, both boys disengaged, taking a single rapid step back before unleashing a blinding flurry of rapid-fire jabs, hooks, and straight rights!
*CLANG! CLANG! BANG! CRACK!*
Their fists blurred into continuous streams of motion! Left hooks were met by forearm blocks; right jabs were deflected by swift palm-parries! Every single strike that missed its target punched deep holes into the atmospheric pressure around them, creating sharp sonic cracks that echoed off the high stadium walls. The sheer speed of their exchanges was breathtaking—two ten-year-old martial artists moving with the fluidity, instinct, and precision of veteran master brawlers!
"They aren't even using complex elemental spells yet!" a spectator in the mid-tier stands shouted in awe. "That's pure physical conditioning and high-speed martial technique!"
Up in the VIP suite, Shoaib chuckled, leaning his chin on his palm. "Asad is in his absolute element. Look at him smile. He hasn't had a pure fist fight like this since our joint training sessions back home."
"Dunga's technique is remarkably clean," Lam observed, his sharp eyes analyzing the footwork of the Western Marches fighter. "Notice how he shifts his weight before every strike. He doesn't waste momentum. He uses the ground to generate power from his hips straight to his knuckles."
Down in the ring, Dunga suddenly altered his rhythmic tempo. As Asad stepped in with a swift left jab, Dunga dipped his shoulders low, ducking beneath the strike. His eyes flashed with a bright, fluid blue light as high-density Liquid Type Urja surged down his shoulder and into his right forearm!
**Water Punch!**
Dunga drove a heavy, water-infused uppercut straight toward Asad's exposed ribs! The attack was wrapped in a spinning vortex of high-pressure fluid, designed to impact with the force of a crashing wave while simultaneously soaking the target's clothes to weigh them down!
Asad's reflexes were lightning-fast. Seeing the blue fluid swirling around Dunga's fist, Asad instantly shifted his internal energy channels, pulling from his Inthermal reserves!
**Ice Punch!**
Asad snapped his left fist downward in a rapid intercepting arc, his hand glowing with a sub-zero, frost-white radiance of Inthermal Type Urja!
*CRASH-FROZE!*
Asad's Ice Punch struck Dunga's Water Punch mid-flight! The moment the sub-zero frost energy made contact with the high-pressure fluid, a blinding flash of white ice erupted between them! Dunga's swirling water vortex was instantly flash-frozen into a jagged, solid block of ice mid-air!
"What?!" Dunga gasped, feeling his right arm suddenly weighed down by a massive chunk of solid ice that had encased his fist and forearm!
"Gotcha!" Asad grinned, using Dunga's momentary imbalance to step deep into his guard!
Asad pulled his right arm back, his knuckles igniting with a scorching, bright orange solar radiance as Thermal Type Urja roared to life!
**Fire Punch!**
Asad drove a blazing, fiery right straight aimed directly for Dunga's chest! The blazing heat radiating from Asad's fist was so intense that it melted the air moisture around them instantly, trailing a tail of roaring flame!
Dunga, however, was far from helpless. Despite his right hand being encased in a heavy block of ice, his combat instincts were remarkably sharp. Instead of trying to pull back, Dunga channeled his own internal Thermal Type Urja directly into his frozen right arm!
**Fire Punch!**
*BOOOM!*
Intense, bright red flames erupted from Dunga's skin beneath the ice! The sudden thermal shock melted the ice block from the inside out, shattering it into thousands of steaming, sparkling ice shards! Freeing his right fist, Dunga met Asad's Fire Punch with a Fire Punch of his own!
*KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
The collision of twin Fire Punches created a massive, exploding sphere of roaring orange flames directly between their faces! A blinding cloud of superheated steam and fiery embers expanded outward, completely engulfing both young fighters!
The fifty thousand spectators held their breath as the wall of fire burned brightly across the stage.
From within the center of the flaming cloud, two figures burst backward! Asad skidded across the titanium floorboards for ten meters, his boots leaving smoking black rubber trails, while Dunga tumbled back, flipping cleanly through the air before landing lightly on his feet in a low crouch.
Both boys were breathing heavily, their clothes slightly singed by the thermal explosion, but the grins on their faces were wider than ever!
"Ice to freeze my water, then fire to burn through?!" Dunga shouted through the lingering steam, wiping a streak of soot from his cheek. "Man, Asad! You shift your energy types so fast! It's like fighting three different people at once!"
"You melted through my sub-zero ice in less than a second!" Asad laughed, dusting off his charred shoulder wraps. "Your reaction time is insane, Dunga! But I'm just getting warmed up!"
"Same here!" Dunga yelled, his eyes burning with competitive fire. "Let me show you a real heavy strike!"
Dunga stomped both feet onto the stage, dropping into a deep, heavy horse stance. He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscular frame surging with an intense, dark-blue liquid aura. The moisture in the atmosphere began to condense rapidly around his arms, forming two massive, pressurized spheres of heavy aquatic energy that swirled violently around his red leather wraps.
**Hydro Punch!**
Dunga leaped forward, driving both fists straight out in a double thrust! The pressurized spheres of liquid expanded into two massive, water-cannon dragons that shot across the arena floor at Mach 3 speeds! The sheer kinetic weight of the Hydro Punch was enough to crush solid stone pillars into powder!
Asad didn't retreat. He widened his stance, his eyes tracking the two incoming water dragons. He brought both of his hands back to his waist, his knuckles glowing with a dense, dual-layered aura of raw, unrefined physical power. High-density Brawl Type energy wrapped around both arms like coiled iron springs!
**Dual Punch!**
*BANG! BANG!*
Asad thrust both fists forward simultaneously, firing two massive, compressed air-cannon shockwaves straight into the approaching Hydro Punch dragons!
*THUUUUUUNDER-SPLASH!*
The double physical shockwaves slammed head-first into the pressurized liquid dragons! Millions of gallons of compressed water exploded into a massive, torrential rainstorm that showered the entire central stage of the Tournament Stadium! The heavy water washed over the titanium floorboards, creating a slick, shallow lake across the fighting area.
Through the falling cascade of water, Dunga materialized like a ghost! Slipping through the rain, he utilized the wet floor to glide forward with incredible momentum, closing the distance before Asad could draw another breath!
Dunga pulled his right arm back to its absolute limit, his muscles swelling as a dark, dangerous golden-red aura wrapped around his fist. The raw kinetic weight gathering around his arm was twice as heavy as his previous Mighty Fist!
**Mega Punch!**
"Take this, Asad!" Dunga roared, driving his Mega Punch straight for Asad's midsection!
Asad barely had time to cross his forearms in an emergency X-block!
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
The Mega Punch connected dead-center against Asad's crossed forearms! The sheer, monstrous impact was so immense that the titanium floorboards beneath Asad's boots instantly buckled and cracked! The explosive kinetic shockwave blasted Asad straight out of his guard, sending his body flying backward across the rain-slicked stadium floor like a stone skipped across a lake!
*SKRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTT!*
Asad skidded for nearly thirty meters, his boots digging deep into the metal substrate before he managed to plant his right hand on the ground and force himself to a halt mere feet away from the boundary line!
"Gah!" Asad spat out a small drop of blood, his forearms throbbing with a sharp, dull ache. He looked up, his dark hair soaked with water, but his eyes were blazing with pure, unyielding excitement.
"That Mega Punch had some serious weight behind it..." Asad muttered, flexing his bruised fingers. "If I didn't block that cleanly, my ribs would be broken right now."
Up in the VIP viewing box, King Mufasa watched Asad recover. A subtle nod of approval passed from the supreme king.
"He absorbed seventy percent of the kinetic vector by yielding his footing at the moment of impact," Mufasa noted, his deep voice resonant. "Asad's defensive martial reading is progressing well. He did not fight the heavy force head-on; he allowed the momentum to carry him back to preserve his bone structure."
"Dunga isn't letting up, though," Krodh pointed out, leaning over the balcony railing. "Look at his stance. He's gathering something extremely dangerous."
Down in the ring, Dunga stood in the center of the shallow lake of rain water, his breathing heavy. He looked at Asad, who was slowly pushing himself back up to his feet, and felt a profound surge of respect.
"You took my Mega Punch head-on and didn't even drop to your knees," Dunga said, his voice trembling slightly with adrenaline. "You really are something else, Asad. In my village, nobody my age can stand after taking that hit."
"I told you," Asad grinned, stepping back toward the center of the ring, his boots splashing through the water. "I'm not going down easily. But now... it's my turn to go all out!"
Asad closed his eyes for a brief fraction of a second. He took a deep, controlled breath, centering his internal Urja core.
When his eyes snapped open, a terrifying, majestic emerald radiance burst from his pupils! The ancient, primal aura of a supreme dragon ignited around his body, turning the falling raindrops into instantly vaporized steam! A soaring, mystical dragon silhouette materialized behind his shoulders, roaring silently into the sky!
High-density Dragon Type Urja pooled entirely into Asad's right fist, turning his hand into a glowing, golden-emerald draconic talon surrounded by crackling cosmic pressure!
**Dragon Punch!**
Asad charged forward! Every step he took against the water-covered stage created explosive shockwaves that sent water towering thirty feet into the air! He pulled his glowing right fist back, preparing to release an attack capable of shattering ancient mountain peaks!
Dunga's eyes widened as he felt the overwhelming, oppressive aura of the Dragon Punch bearing down on him. The sheer pressure forced his skin to sting, but instead of backing away, a wild, ecstatic grin broke across Dunga's face!
"YES! THAT'S IT! THAT'S THE DRAGON POWER!" Dunga screamed in absolute excitement!
Dunga planted his feet deep into the metal floorboards. He didn't use Water Type, Thermal Type, or Brawl Type this time. He reached deep into the absolute darkest, most secluded corner of his spiritual origin—a rare, forbidden energy channel he had forged through brutal conditioning in the deep dark caverns of the Western Marches!
An ominous, pitch-black and blood-purple aura erupted from Dunga's body! The water around his feet turned black, and the temperature in the stadium plummeted as dark, demonic runes began to swirl violently around both of his arms! Two shadowy, horn-like energy constructs flared above his knuckles!
**Demonic Fists!**
"DRAGON VERSUS DEMON! LET'S GO, ASAD!" Dunga roared at the top of his lungs, driving his dark, demonic-infused fist forward to clash directly against Asad's incoming strike!
The entire stadium watched in stunned, breathless silence as the golden-emerald dragon fist and the pitch-black demonic fist raced toward each other like two colliding meteors!
*KABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!*
The collision between Dragon Type Urja and Demon Type Urja triggered a catastrophic, dual-colored energy explosion dead-center in the Tournament Stadium!
A massive pillar of golden light and dark purple shadows shot five hundred feet into the sky, tearing through the cloud layer above the open-roof complex! The sheer shockwave blew out the localized atmospheric pressure, sending a deafening acoustic boom that shook the entire city district around the stadium!
*CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!*
The reinforced titanium floorboards beneath their feet shattered into thousands of jagged fragments, forming a massive, fifteen-meter deep crater in the very center of the ring!
Golden dragon scales of light and dark purple demonic tendrils clashed violently within the light, tearing at each other in an absolute struggle for dominance!
"GRAAAAAAAAH!" Asad roared, pushing his Dragon Punch with everything he possessed!
"RAAAAAAAAAH!" Dunga screamed, his Demonic Fists pushing back with equal, terrifying ferocity!
The raw power locked between them reached a critical tipping point. Neither technique could overpower the other—the primal authority of the Dragon Type and the dark, oppressive weight of the Demon Type were perfectly matched in raw output!
*BOOM!*
A secondary kinetic detonation erupted, violently blowing both ten-year-old fighters backward out of the crater!
Asad tumbled across the rim of the crater, rolling three times before digging his fingers into the metal floorboards to stop himself. His right sleeve was completely torn to shreds, his arm bruised and smoking from the demonic recoil. Across the opposite side of the crater, Dunga crashed heavily against the outer boundary wall, leaving a small spiderweb crack in the reinforced stone before sliding down onto his feet. His crimson leather hand-wraps were charred black, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.
"Hah... hah... hah..." Dunga panted, wiping blood from his forehead. His demonic aura slowly faded, leaving him visibly exhausted, but his eyes were still bright. "That... that was incredible... You actually matched my Demonic Fists..."
Asad slowly stood up from his crouch. His right arm was numb, covered in dark purple energy burns, but his spirit was burning brighter than it ever had in his entire life. He looked at Dunga, feeling a profound sense of camaraderie and joy. This was what it meant to fight a true rival—someone who pushed you beyond your absolute limits.
"Dunga..." Asad said softly, his voice carrying clearly across the quiet, awe-struck stadium. "You're the strongest fighter my age I've ever met. But I promised my brothers, my father, and my team... that I wouldn't lose here."
Asad stood tall near the edge of the crater. He deactivated his Dragon Type Urja. He deactivated his Thermal and Inthermal Type channels.
He closed his eyes and turned his face upward toward the open sky above the Tournament Stadium.
High above, the bright midday sun shone down through the hole created in the cloud layer by their previous explosion. Asad raised his left hand—his uninjured hand—toward the celestial light beaming down from above.
A gentle, breathtaking warmth began to fill the stadium. The light surrounding Asad did not feel dark, violent, or destructive. It felt pure, radiant, and endlessly vast—the primordial Light of the Eco-system, drawing upon the natural life-force, sunlight, and cosmic balance of the world itself!
A brilliant, golden-white solar sphere, appearing like a miniature dawn star, materialized around Asad's left fist! The gentle light illuminated every corner of the Tournament Stadium, filling the fifty thousand spectators with an indescribable sense of awe and warmth.
"The Light of the Eco-system..." Lam whispered from the VIP box, his dark eyes wide with genuine admiration. "He's channeling pure solar eco-energy..."
Dunga looked at the radiant golden-white light gathering around Asad's fist. He knew he didn't have enough energy left to summon his Demonic Fists again. But Dunga grinned, pulling his remaining strength into his right arm, dropping into one final, absolute stance.
"Bring it, Asad!" Dunga yelled, his voice filled with pure, unadulterated joy! "Show me your ultimate punch!"
Asad opened his eyes, which were now glowing with a brilliant, celestial golden-white light. He stepped forward, his boots gliding effortlessly across the shattered stage, and pulled his left fist back.
**Solar Punch!**
Asad thrust his left hand forward! A blinding, magnificent beam of pure solar eco-light erupted from his fist, sweeping across the crater like a wave of pure celestial dawn!
*WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!*
The radiant solar wave surged directly toward Dunga! But instead of giving up or being knocked out instantly, Dunga let out a fierce, guttural yell! Digging his heels into the shattered stone wall behind him, Dunga crossed his forearms and pushed his remaining raw willpower and lingering brawler stamina into a dense physical barrier!
*BANG!*
The Solar Punch beam engulfed Dunga, washing over his body with intense, purifying heat! The sheer force pushed Dunga back, sliding his feet through solid rock, but Dunga gritted his teeth, his arms trembling, refusing to fall! The celestial eco-light burned away his demonic energy residue and recharged the surrounding air, but Dunga's sheer physical stubbornness kept him standing!
When the golden beam finally dissipated, the crater was glowing with warmth.
Dunga stood there, his clothes half-shredded, steam rising from his shoulders, bleeding from his lip—but his eyes were wide open, and he was still standing on his two feet!
"HAH! I... I held against it!" Dunga laughed, panting heavily, wiping sweat and blood from his chin. "You thought that was the end, Asad?!"
Asad looked at Dunga in absolute shock, which immediately turned into an even wilder, broader grin!
"No way!" Asad laughed, rolling his shoulders and stepping right into the crater! "You actually survived the Solar Punch?! That's awesome, Dunga!"
"I told you... I love to fight!" Dunga roared, tearing off his broken crimson leather wraps, leaving his bare knuckles exposed. "I'm not quitting until one of us can't lift a finger!"
"Then let's keep going!" Asad shouted, ripping off his torn outer gi, standing in his sleeveless undershirt with his bare, bruised knuckles raised high!
Both ten-year-old boys charged right back into the center of the ruined crater!
*CRACK! BANG! THUD! BAM!*
Without any complex aura spells left, without dragon shapes or demonic runes, the fight descended into the most raw, brutal, and thrilling exchange of pure bare-knuckle brawling the Tournament Stadium had ever witnessed! Asad threw a left hook; Dunga ducked and planted a solid right straight into Asad's cheek! Asad took the hit, leaned back, and delivered a heavy liver blow that made Dunga gasp!
The crowd went completely insane! Fifty thousand people stood on their seats, screaming, slamming their feet against the metal bleachers!
"THE FIGHT IS STILL GOING!" the commentator roared over the microphone, losing his mind. "NEITHER OF THESE TEN-YEAR-OLD MONSTERS IS WILLING TO CONCEDE! THIS IS PURE UNYIELDING BRAWLING AT ITS ABSOLUTE PEAK!"
Up in the VIP balcony, Shoaib and Bayu were both standing, cheering at the top of their lungs. Even King Mufasa had a faint smirk on his face as he watched the two boys trade punch for punch in the deep crater.
However... high above the VIP suites, standing on the shadowy roof overhang of the stadium's structural arch, a strange and ominous presence was watching the entire battle in absolute silence.
Stepping out from the spatial distortion of a dark cosmic rift, a tall, imposing figure loomed over the stadium.
He possessed five thick, muscular arms extending from his upper torso—three on the left side, two on the right—each arm covered in heavy cosmic armor plates and dark metallic gauntlets. A strange, multidimensional rift aura hovered around his body, radiating the distinct, terrifying signature of the far-off dimensional sector known as **Colex-5411025**.
The 5-Armed Man looked down into the arena, his glowing crimson eyes tracking the relentless, high-speed fist exchanges between Asad and Dunga as they battered each other with unstoppable spirit.
A low, deep, metallic chuckle rumbled from the throat of **THE 5 ARMED MAN from Colex-5411025**. He folded four of his arms across his massive chest while resting the fifth arm on the hilt of a heavy cosmic cleaver strapped to his back.
He grinned sinisterly, looking down at the two ten-year-old brawlers refusing to back down.
"Ok... a fight of same years childs and wrestlers..." THE 5 ARMED MAN muttered in his heavy, distorted voice, his eyes narrowing with dark amusement as the battle below reached a terrifying new level of violence.