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Elijah is evolving faster than you think.
His power is growing.
His business empire is expanding.
And the story only gets crazier from here.
Right now, this platform is far behind.
At patreon.com/KingAlex738, the story is already past Chapter 100… and moving toward Chapter 200.
Don't get left behind while everyone else moves ahead.
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Chapter 44
The main event was still two fights away.
The crowd's energy had settled into a low, expectant hum, the kind of quiet that came before something everyone knew was coming.
Elijah sat in his seat, his body healed, his mind clear, watching the ring as the next match was announced.
"Henry versus Webb."
Henry stood up before the announcer finished speaking. He pulled his jacket off and handed it to Kai without looking.
"Let me show you, what a thousand isn't worth," Henry said.
Kai took the jacket. "Give us a great show."
Henry smiled as he walked down the steps.
Elijah watched him go, his Ki sense reaching out, brushing against the room.
The fighters in the back, the gang members in the corners, the scattered clusters of people who came to watch and bet and leave.
And in the ring, waiting, the man Henry was about to face.
Marcus Webb was already in the ring.
He was the same height as Henry, the same build. Lean, muscular, the kind of body that came from years of training and fighting.
His skin was pale, his hair dark, cut short against his scalp.
His face was sharp—high cheekbones, a narrow nose, a jaw that looked like it could cut glass.
He stood in his corner, his arms loose at his sides, his eyes on Henry as he climbed through the ropes.
His Ki was dense at Beginner Knight Stage Mid.
The bell rang.
Neither of them moved for a long moment.
They stood across from each other, ten feet apart, and Elijah felt it the invisible war already beginning.
Their Ki senses reached out, brushed against each other, tested. Henry's Ki was warm, vibrant, the green of new leaves.
Marcus's was sharp, cutting, the yellow of lightning held in a jar.
They circled, each step measured, each shift of weight calculated.
Marcus struck first.
He crossed the distance in a blur, his yellow aura flaring around his fist as it drove toward Henry's face.
Henry's green aura answered, his arm coming up to block, and the impact cracked through the ring like a gunshot.
The crowd roared.
Marcus kept going.
His other fist came from below, a hook aimed at Henry's ribs, and Henry twisted, the punch grazing his side instead of landing clean.
He answered with a kick, his shin driving into Marcus's thigh, and Marcus grunted but didn't retreat.
He stepped in closer, his forehead driving toward Henry's face.
Henry's Ki sense screamed. He saw the headbutt coming before Marcus's muscles contracted, felt the trajectory in his bones.
He dropped his weight, the headbutt passing over him, and drove his fist into Marcus's stomach.
Marcus folded, his yellow aura flickering, and Henry followed with an elbow to the back of his neck.
Marcus hit the mat on his hands and knees, and Henry's leg came up for a kick to the ribs—
Marcus's Ki sense flared.
He rolled before Henry's foot connected, the kick hitting the mat where his ribs had been, and came up swinging.
His fist caught Henry in the jaw, snapping his head to the side, another punch to the ribs and a knee to the thigh.
Henry stumbled back, his green aura flickering, blood already filling his mouth.
Marcus pressed forward, his yellow aura blazing.
His fists came in combinations—left, right, left, hook—each one carrying the full weight of his Ki.
Henry blocked the first two, took the third on his forearm, and the hook slipped past his guard entirely.
It connected with his cheek, and his head snapped to the side, his vision whiting out for a moment.
He was on the defensive now. Marcus was everywhere, his punches coming from angles that shouldn't exist, his kicks finding Henry's legs, his ribs, his shoulders.
Henry's Ki sense was working overtime, feeding him information faster than his body could process it.
He knew where the next punch was going before Marcus threw it.
He knew the angle, the speed, the force. But knowing and stopping were different things when your opponent was as fast as you and as skilled as you.
Marcus drove a knee into Henry's chest. The air left his lungs in a rush, and he hit the ropes, bouncing forward right into Marcus's waiting fist. The punch caught him square in the jaw, and for a moment, the world tilted. His legs went loose. His guard dropped. Marcus was already moving for the finishing blow—
Henry's Ki sense screamed at him to move. He threw himself sideways, Marcus's fist grazing his ear instead of crushing his skull, and hit the mat hard. He rolled, came up on one knee, his green aura flickering, his chest heaving.
Marcus stood in the center of the ring, his yellow aura bright, his face split in a grin. "That all you got?"
Henry spat blood onto the mat and pushed himself up. His jaw throbbed. His ribs screamed with every breath. His right leg was numb where Marcus had kicked it three times in the same spot. He was losing.
He breathed in, and felt his aura steady. The green brightened, pulsed, steadied.
He moved forward.
His first punch was a feint. Marcus's Ki sense read it, his guard coming up, and Henry's real attack came from below—a kick that caught Marcus in the knee. Marcus's leg buckled, his yellow aura flickering, and Henry was on him. His fists drove into Marcus's stomach, his ribs, his chest. Each punch carried everything he had left, each one finding flesh, finding bone, finding the places where Marcus's aura was thin.
Marcus retreated, his guard coming up, and Henry followed, his Ki sense searching for the opening. Marcus's yellow aura was steady, controlled, but there was a weakness in his left side, just below the ribs, where Henry's first kick had landed.
Henry feinted high, and Marcus's guard rose. Henry drove his fist into the weak spot.
Marcus's breath left him in a grunt. His yellow aura flared, bright and desperate, and he grabbed Henry's arm before he could pull back. His fingers dug into Henry's shoulder, his Ki surging, and he twisted.
Something popped in Henry's shoulder. Pain exploded through his arm, his chest, his neck. His green aura flickered wildly, threatening to die. He tried to pull back, but Marcus held on, his yellow aura blazing, his other fist coming up.
The punch caught Henry in the face. His head snapped back, blood spraying from his split lip. Another punch to the same spot, and his vision blurred. Another to his ribs, and he felt something crack.
Marcus let go of his arm, and Henry stumbled back, his left arm hanging useless at his side, his green aura guttering like a candle in the wind. He was done. He knew it. The crowd knew it. Marcus was already moving in for the kill.
But Henry's Ki sense was still clear.
He could feel Marcus's aura, bright and confident, and he could feel the weakness in it.
The same weakness he had found before, just below the ribs.
The aura there was thinner now, stretched from blocking Henry's attacks, flickering where it should have been steady.
Marcus threw a punch aimed at Henry's head.
His Ki sense read it, and he didn't try to block. He couldn't.
His arm was useless. Instead, he stepped inside the punch.
The fist passed over his shoulder, close enough to graze his ear. Henry drove his forehead into Marcus's face.
The impact was brutal. Henry's vision went white, pain shooting through his skull, but he felt Marcus's nose crunch against his forehead, and felt his grip of Ki sense loosen for just a moment.
Marcus stumbled back, blood pouring from his nose, his yellow aura flickering, his guard dropping.
Henry didn't wait, his arm was useless, his leg was barely holding him, his lungs were burning.
He threw himself forward, his good fist driving into Marcus's side, into the weak spot, into the place where Marcus's aura was thinnest.
The impact drove through flesh and bone, and Marcus's aura flickered once, twice, and died.
Marcus's eyes went wide. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
His knees buckled, and he hit the mat on his back, his arms splayed, his chest heaving.
His aura was dark now, completely gone, his Ki sense silent.
Henry stood over him, his chest rising and falling, his green aura flickering, his arm hanging useless at his side.
Blood dripped from his split lip onto the mat, mixing with Marcus's. His ribs screamed with every breath.
His jaw throbbed. His shoulder was a mess of pain that pulsed with every heartbeat.
The crowd erupted but Henry didn't hear them.
The announcer's voice cut through the noise. "Winner—Henry."
Henry turned and walked toward the ropes. His leg almost gave out on the first step, but he caught himself, kept moving.
His arm hung at his side, the shoulder screaming with every movement, but he didn't stop.
He climbed out of the ring and walked toward the steps, the crowd parting around him.
Elijah was at the bottom of the steps, waiting.
Henry looked at him, and spoke
"Told you," his voice rough. "Worth more than a thousand."
Elijah caught him as his leg finally gave out. Henry's weight fell against him, his breath coming in sharp gasps.
"You almost got defeated," Elijah said.
Henry laughed, the sound rough in his throat, then winced as his ribs protested. "Almost doesn't count."
He pushed himself upright, his good hand on Elijah's shoulder, his legs steadying.
"His Ki sense was better than mine," Henry said, his voice quieter now. "He read everything I did. Every feint and angle, I couldn't surprise him."
"But you won."
Henry nodded slowly. "Because he didn't understand what I was feeling. He could read my attacks, but he couldn't read the need behind them. He knew where I was going to hit, but he didn't know why. And when I found his weakness—the place where his aura was thin—I didn't stop hitting it until he couldn't stand anymore."
Kai appeared beside them, his hand on Henry's good shoulder. "Your arm?"
Henry grunted. "Dislocated. Maybe cracked something in the ribs. Nothing that won't heal."
Kai looked at Henry as he helped, with connecting his hand back to its position, which Henry showed a pained face but didn't let out a sound.
"After you have enough strength go, and cash up your money your done for today.
Elijah looked at the ring, where the crew was already cleaning the mat, preparing for the main event.
Where Tristan Quinn was waiting.