A gentle river flowed under the red-tinted sky, its waters sparkling like liquid rubies.
Suddenly, a small figure burst out of the river with a splash.
Six-year-old TaiKhan emerged, long black hair dripping wet, faint red eyes shining with pure joy. In his small but already strong arms, he carried a huge, thrashing fish nearly as long as he was tall.
"I caught it! I caught it!" he shouted, grinning widely as he dragged the fish onto the grassy bank. "Grandma's gonna roast this tonight! It's the biggest one yet!"
He dropped the fish and quickly grabbed his clothes nearby — a simple set of tough leather pants and a sleeveless vest patched together from old hides, sturdy enough for a boy who spent his days climbing trees and wrestling the river.
An elderly but powerful voice came from behind him.
"It seems you have caught your meal, my boy."
TaiKhan spun around, his face lighting up with a wide, gap-toothed grin.
"Grandma!"
His grandmother stood tall and imposing, a woman who looked no older than her early forties despite her years. She had a strong, feminine, muscular build — powerful legs, defined arms, and a warrior's posture that commanded respect. Her black-and-grey hair was tied back in a long braid, and her red eyes glowed with quiet wisdom and strength. She carried the presence of someone who had walked through countless battles and emerged unbroken.
On her shoulder, she casually held a massive beast — a hulking, horned creature the size of a small house, its body still twitching faintly. Even TaiKhan's eyes widened in shock.
She threw the beast down beside his fish with effortless strength, then looked at his catch and chuckled.
"Not bad, little one. But look at this." She patted the giant beast. "Yours is impressive for one your age… but we'll need more than one fish if we want a proper feast."
TaiKhan laughed, staring up at her with pure awe.
"Grandma… when will I get strong like you?"
She let out a warm, deep laugh and crouched, gently placing a large, calloused hand on his head.
"With time, your strength will grow. But if you truly want more… it will take you a thousand years... That is where our kind truly awakens."
TaiKhan grinned, eyes sparkling.
"Then I want to go into battle right now!"
She laughed again, ruffling his wet hair.
"That's more like it. I'll make sure you get your chance one day. But for now, enjoy being young, my boy."
TaiKhan pouted playfully.
"I try to live well… but the other children think I'm strange."
She smiled softly.
"It's because you show them too much of your strength. Come now — carry the fish. We'll camp on the mountain peak tonight."
TaiKhan looked around, confused.
"I don't see any mountain…"
His grandmother laughed, easily lifting the giant beast onto one shoulder and scooping TaiKhan onto the other, his fish tucked under her arm.
"Hold on tight. Try not to fall off."
She dug her feet into the ground. Her powerful legs bulged with muscle. With a single, explosive leap, she launched into the air, soaring over the river in a blur.
She bounded from ridge to ridge, leaping higher and higher, passing through shallow clouds until they broke through to a towering mountain peak shrouded in mist.
They landed gracefully on the summit. TaiKhan laughed out loud, eyes wide with joy.
"That was fun! But leaping over the oceans was way better!"
His grandmother chuckled, setting him down.
"Once your power fully blooms, even those distances will feel short to you."
She looked out at the clouds covering the view, her red eyes glowing faintly.
"We are different from the ones who look like us — the humans. They train for years, rely on mana, and have short lifespans. We… we are something more."
TaiKhan chuckled. "It's true. They are weak… but they're not that bad either."
His grandmother walked forward, then turned to him, her tone becoming serious yet warm.
"Look at this." Her eyes glowed brighter. "This is what separates us from the likes of them."
With a casual wave of her hand, she unleashed a powerful gust.
The clouds parted violently — blown away in a dramatic surge of wind and currents, revealing a breathtaking sunset view over the mountain peak. The evening sun bathed everything in golden-red light, the atmosphere settling into serene beauty.
TaiKhan stood in awe, mouth open.
His grandmother turned to him fully, her silhouette framed by the shining sun, red eyes glowing.
"If you wish to become this strong, you must overcome your battles. Fight to your utmost limit… for that is where you will grow."
She crouched again, placing both hands on his shoulders.
"Our kind has no true end. When you reach the brink of death… that will be your rebirth."
The memory faded like mist under the morning sun.
Back in the arena, TaiKhan remained collapsed on the ground, body twitching violently. The sounds of cracks in his bones echoed with every shallow breath. Blood pooled beneath him.
On the other side of the crater, Tahik lay on his back, eyes fixed upward, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts.
That hit… was really bad, he thought, coughing more blood. It took everything I had just to focus all my mana into my chest… but the boy's fist still ran through.
He slowly rose, stumbling side to side, skin returned to its normal gray-green, body bruised and bloodied, vision blurry. He could barely stand properly.
He gazed forward at the small boy.
Is he dead? I hope he isn't…
Someone in the crowd shouted, "It's over! The boy is on the ground, and Tahik stands — victory for Stormcrag!"
Another voice argued back, "No! The boy delivered the final hit! Tahik was slammed into the ground first!"
The debate was cut short.
TaiKhan slowly rose from the ground.
Bloodied. Broken. His eyes finally regained their spark — a faint red glow returning.
He coughed a mouthful of blood, pain rushing through every inch of his body. He noticed his left arm hanging loose and swollen.
What happened…? Why does my whole body hurt like this? I don't remember being this hurt… what...how am I..?!
Tahik stared at him in shock.
"Boy... Are you awake?" the orc asked, voice filled with disbelief.
TaiKhan turned toward him, his neck cracking loudly. He let out a low shout of pain.
"What happened to you…?" he rasped. I just had a dream of my grandmother...I must have passed out...and ended up like this. But how?!
He slowly lifted his right arm, vision blurry as he searched for his boys in the stands.
The announcer's voice boomed across the coliseum, laced with raw excitement.
"THIS… THIS CANNOT BE REAL! AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE SEEN, THE BOY IS STILL STANDING!
The crowd murmured, some recollecting.
The two fighters stood face to face. Gusts of wind moved through the arena as silence settled.
Tahik lifted his hammer, arm trembling in pain.
It's not finished. I will draw out every ounce of mana left. Even if I lose… I will not go down without a fight... No...I must not lose!
On the other side, TaiKhan swayed. I can't keep standing… I'm going to black out. My whole body hurts, but...I...I still have my right arm and my legs.
Suddenly, through his blurred vision, he noticed a glow of mana on the other side.
Tahik's body surged with mana. He reformed his iron body — incomplete, but enough. He flexed his muscles and roared with all he had, mana blowing away the sand and creating waves through the arena.
TaiKhan's body trembled.
Can I do it?! Can I survive this?!... No...I must, because I made a promise.
He forced a smile on his bruised face.
This was what Grandma spoke of, right? In near death… I would awaken my strength. I would become strong like her.
He inhaled, feeling the pain in his lungs, then looked at Tahik.
I can do this. Just one punch… powerful enough to do it. I'll blow him away, like how Grandma blew away the clouds.
The announcer shouted, "THIS IS IT! EVERYONE HOLD ON TO YOUR SEATS!"
The crowd held on.
The wind in the arena moved in a small cyclone, then began to disperse as silence settled.
Both fighters made eye contact.
They both moved.
Tahik surged forward with a thunderous roar, every muscle in his massive frame bulging as he raised his hammer high and brought it crashing down with everything he had left.
TaiKhan launched to meet him, a blur of raw speed, his right fist clenched tight, red light flickering in his eyes like a dying flame refusing to go out.
They collided in the center of the arena.
A deafening BOOM tore through the coliseum as hammer met fist. The impact ripped shockwaves across the sand, the air itself twisting into a violent vortex around them. Stone cracked beneath their feet as both fighters locked in place, pushing against each other with everything their broken bodies could still give.
Tahik roared, veins swelling as he forced his hammer downward inch by inch, overpowering the boy through sheer weight and strength.
TaiKhan's arm trembled violently under the pressure. A sharp crack echoed as the bones in his hand began to give. He gritted his teeth, his legs buckling as he was forced down to one knee, a cry of pain tearing from his throat.
I'm going… to lose consciousness.
His vision blurred, then his strength. He began to slip
Tahik felt it—and smiled.
He drove the hammer down harder, his own transformation flickering as his mana began to fail, but still he pushed, certain of his victory.
TaiKhan's fist faltered… then began to fall back.
Then— It stopped. His hand held.
His consciousness dimmed. The world around him dulled.
The red glow in his eyes flickered rapidly, unstable… then sharpened.
A sudden pulse of force surged through his arm, just enough to knock Tahik's hammer off its path.
Tahik's eyes widened in shock as he was pushed back.
No… no no no, I can't let him…!
He twisted his body, forcing one last desperate swing, dragging the hammer in a wide, deliberate arc meant to crush the boy where he stood.
Then TaiKhan's eyes burned fully red.
Thin, steaming red lines spread across his arm, glowing brighter with every passing heartbeat. His fingers loosened, his fist opening slowly, almost gently—then he raised his hand high above his head, as if guided by something deeper than thought.
Time seemed to bend.
The roar of the crowd stretched into silence. The wind slowed. Even the drifting sand hung suspended in the air.
The world became heavy… sluggish… distant.
Tahik's hammer reached TaiKhan's face — and stopped. Frozen inches away.
For a single, suspended heartbeat, everything ceased.
Above the arena, at the highest edge of the colosseum, a lone figure stood watching. A feminine silhouette, tall and powerful, her red eyes glowing faintly in the stillness, her presence untouched by the frozen world below.
A soft smile curved her lips.
"Yes…" she whispered. "That's my boy."
TaiKhan's hand fell in a slow, final motion, cutting down through the frozen air just before Tahik.
The moment it dropped, his strength vanished.
His body gave out, collapsing lifelessly onto the sand.
Time resumed.
Tahik's hammer tore through empty space.
For a split second, confusion flashed across his face as his strike met nothing, his eyes snapping downward—trying to understand how the boy had fallen beneath him.
What?!
Suddenly, he felt it — a wave of raw, unstoppable power pushing back.
BOOM.
The force slammed into him like a tidal wave. Tahik was hurled backward with terrifying speed, crashing into the first mana barrier with a deafening impact that made the entire shield flare and crack. The collision sent vibrations rolling through the colosseum, shaking the stands and rattling every seat.
He smashed through the second barrier, then the third, before finally crashing into the outer stands in an explosion of dust, wind, shattered stone, and flying debris.
The ground trembled violently beneath every spectator. Flags snapped and whipped in the violent gust. The air itself seemed to vibrate, humming with the lingering aftermath of a strike no one had truly seen.
The coliseum fell into stunned silence for a single, breathless moment.
TaiKhan lay on the red sand, breathing shallow, body broken but still.
The silence shattered into a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of the Grand Bout. Cheers, screams, and disbelief crashed together like a tidal wave.
"TRUE TAIKHAN!"
"THE KID DID IT!"
"HOW... HOW IS HE STILL ALIVE?!"
The stands became a sea of chaos — people standing, jumping, some crying, others laughing in pure shock. Crimson Reach fans waved their banners wildly, while even Stormcrag supporters rose in stunned respect, clapping slowly at first, then louder.
TaiKhan's gang lost their minds.
Renn was screaming, tears streaming down his face. "HE WON! OUR LEADER WON!"
Miko jumped on the seat, punching the air. "THAT'S OUR TAIKHAN! THE BEST IN THE SOUTH!"
Lir just stood there, hands over his mouth, crying openly.
On the sand, TaiKhan lay unconscious, small body bloodied and broken, chest rising in shallow, labored breaths.
The announcer's voice cracked with genuine awe as he tried to regain control.
"THE WINNER… BY AN INCREDIBLE UPSET… TRUE TAIKHAN OF CRIMSON REACH!"
Medics rushed into the arena. Some surrounded Tahik, who lay out cold in the stands, breathing weakly. Others carefully lifted TaiKhan onto a stretcher, moving quickly — his condition was critical, ribs shattered, internal bleeding suspected, one arm and leg badly damaged.
The arena floor began to shift and repair itself, mana-stone glowing as cracks sealed and debris settled, restoring the fighting pit to its original state.
Lady Phoenix watched with a composed expression, but her amber eyes held quiet surprise. "A child… giving us our first win...how cute!"
But that attack, she thought. I couldn't see it clearly, but he moved so fast that... No, I'll have to look at him later. What a strange boy!
Lord Kael Voss shook his head in disbelief.
Lord Thorne Varkis stood tall, laughing deeply. "That boy has the heart of a storm. I'll remember this day."
The crowd continued chanting TaiKhan's name as the medics carried the small, unconscious boy away for emergency recovery.
Crimson Reach had its first victory.
The roar of the crowd slowly faded into a stunned, buzzing hum as medics rushed TaiKhan out of the arena on a stretcher.
His gang didn't wait.
Renn was the first to move, shoving through the crowd with tears streaming down his face. "Move! That's our leader!"
Miko and Lir followed right behind, hearts pounding as they sprinted toward the medical wing attached to the coliseum. They burst through the restricted doors, guards barely able to stop them in the chaos.
They skidded to a halt outside the emergency ward, chests heaving, faces wet with tears and sweat.
"He's alive… right?" Miko whispered, voice cracking. "He has to be. He won. Our TaiKhan actually won…"
Lir wiped his eyes, leaning against the wall. "He looked so small out there… but he kept getting up. I thought… I thought we were going to lose him."
Renn stared at the closed doors, fists clenched. "He did it for us. All of it. The stealing, the risks, everything… just so we could eat better, live better. And now he's in there fighting again."
They slid down the wall together, sitting in a small, tight circle outside the ward. The sounds of the ongoing Bout drifted faintly from the arena, but none of them cared.
Minutes stretched into an eternity of waiting.
A medic finally stepped out, wiping sweat from his brow.
"You boys seem to be worried about this child. Don't worry, he's stable. Critical, but stable. Broken bones, internal bleeding, severe exhaustion… but he's alive. He's a tough little one."
The boys broke down.
Renn hugged them both, laughing through tears. "He's alive… our leader's alive."
Miko punched the air weakly. "We're gonna throw him the biggest feast when he wakes up. No more scraps. Real food. For him."
Lir smiled through his tears. "He did it. He really did it."
They stayed there, huddled together, waiting for any more news, the weight of the day slowly lifting into relief and quiet pride.
Their little king had won.
Meanwhile, far from the roaring coliseum, Jin moved through the shadowed backstreets of Crimson Reach.
He had slipped away from the noise, finding a quiet rooftop overlooking the city. The recording crystal from the Eternal Scar hummed in his hand as he replayed it again.
The jagged symbols on the obsidian rock glowed in the projection.
[ The Old South Shall Fall. A New South Shall Rise. All Belongs To The Dark Haven ]
Jin's silver eyes narrowed behind his mask.
This region isn't under their rule yet — could they be planning on wiping out everything now? Everyone seems distracted, and it is the perfect time for that to happen.
He replayed the old woman's poem in his mind.
He tried to connect the dots slowly, coldly.
The gate. The symbols. The timing. The South's three cities celebrating strength while something ancient and rotten stirred beneath it all.
Jin stood up, cloak fluttering in the night wind.
Dark Haven. If the south falls… the rest of Chaos won't be far behind. But...where are you...Red Dragon?! I still haven't found a trace of it.
He vanished into the shadows, the recording crystal still glowing faintly in his grip.
Far from the roaring lights of the Grand Bout, deep within the desolate Eternal Scar, silence reigned.
The ancient gate stood dormant — a towering arch of obsidian and twisted runes, half-buried in jagged crystal and dust. The red sky above was bruised and heavy, wind whispering across the barren land like a dying breath.
Then it pulsed.
A single, deep thrum of energy rippled through the gate. The runes ignited with sickly violet light. The air grew thick, charged, as cracks of orange lightning danced along the frame.
The gate hummed louder.
The ground trembled. Crystals shattered. A violent gust of wind exploded outward, carrying the scent of ozone and something far older — something rotten and hungry.
With a deafening CRACK, the gate tore open.
A swirling vortex of orange and black energy burst forth, spitting lightning and shadows across the Scar. The surrounding land buckled. Massive fissures split the earth. A shockwave rolled outward, flattening what little remained of the crystal formations for miles.
From the heart of the vortex, a figure exploded through.
It crashed into the ground like a meteor, orange lightning arcing wildly from its body. Dust and debris blasted upward in a massive cloud. The impact carved a new crater, the shockwave echoing across the wasteland.
The figure lay there for a moment, panting hard, massive chest rising and falling. He was enormous — easily over eight feet tall, with a heavily muscled, battle-scarred frame that spoke of endless war. Obsidian rings gleamed on his thick biceps and wrists, another tight around his neck like a collar of power, and more encircling his ankles. Two huge, ornate twin daggers — blades of shifting orange crystal edged in obsidian, humming with contained fury — were strapped across his back. Long, wild black-and-orange hair cascaded down his back, streaked with battle dust. His dark orange eyes burned with exhaustion and resolve. Intricate, glowing patterns — like ancient runes of flame and shadow — pulsed across his dark skin, shifting subtly with every breath.
It staggered to its feet, breathing ragged, bruises and cuts covering its body. Then glanced back at the still-open gate, voice low and urgent.
"I lost them for now, it seems. That should be able to buy some time… if I destroy this gate here. It will take them a while to find me."
He drew one of the massive twin daggers. Orange sparks flared along the blade.
With a roar that shook the Scar, he slashed forward.
BOOM.
The strike tore through the air like a comet. The blade unleashed a crescent wave of orange-and-black energy that slammed into the gate with apocalyptic force. Runes shattered. The archway cracked violently. A second slash followed, then a third — each one ripping deeper, sending explosions of sparks and debris flying. The gate screamed as it destabilized, the vortex inside flickering wildly.
The warrior turned away, long hair whipping in the wind.
"This must be the south if I remember. Lady Phoenix… I must warn her. Everything… will fall once they emerge through."
He staggered forward, then broke into a run, leaping across the broken landscape with surprising speed despite his injuries.
Behind him, the damaged gate continued to spark and hum ominously.
And the South had no idea what was coming.