As the dust settled and the battlefield grew silent, the announcer's voice echoed across the stadium, filled with excitement and anticipation.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what a breathtaking battle we just witnessed! But the journey isn't over yet! The final match of this grand tournament will take place tomorrow! So get ready — our two finalists are: Gourav Dutta and Rahul Yadav!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, but amid the chaos, Bright stood silently, watching Rahul being carried away for treatment. A soft smile appeared on his face — not of arrogance, but of quiet respect.
"You did well, Rahul... but now it's our turn," he whispered to himself.
With the final match now in sight, Bright turned around and calmly walked away from the arena, heading home. His mind was already preparing for what was to come — a battle that would shake the arena like never before.
Meanwhile, in the control tower above the arena, the principal and staff gathered for a serious discussion. The battle between Leon and Rahul had revealed something much darker than anyone had anticipated.
Some staff members spoke with concern,
"That aura… it wasn't natural. What if that dark entity entered through a portal and forcefully formed a contract with Leon?"
Others had a different opinion,
"What if… Leon willingly made that contract? What if he chose that darkness?"
The principal silently listened, his face unreadable. He pulled up Leon's personal record on his tablet. As the files loaded, painful truths began to surface.
Leon Dusk — orphaned at age six.
His parents had died in a tragic accident when he was just in Class 1. With no known relatives, he grew up in an orphanage. By the time he passed Class 10, Leon had already chosen solitude, living alone in a small rented room ever since.
The principal stared at the screen for a long moment, eyes heavy with thought.
He turned towards the sky through the large glass window. The night clouds drifted silently across the moon.
"A child with no one… and too much pain in his heart. Let's see where fate takes him now," he murmured, his voice a whisper lost to the wind.
Bright sat alone in his dimly lit room, the weight of the upcoming final match pressing heavily on his shoulders. His mind replayed every battle Rahul had fought, each one showcasing not just strength but an unyielding spirit.
"I can't defeat Rahul with my current techniques," he muttered, frustration evident in his voice. "He possesses not only formidable martial skills but also the Phoenix's power. Even he use that power know in 10%, it's overwhelming."*
He paced the room, clenching his fists. *"Damn it! My strongest move is the Thunder Steps, and even that's only at the third stage. What can I do? Strengthening my body won't be enough. I need new techniques, new powers. But how can I master something new in just one night?"*
As the evening deepened, a thought struck him. "Wait... I almost forgot. During my last battle, I awakened an inner energy. But I don't know how to control it. It surfaced when I was utterly exhausted and had no other options. Does that mean I need to push myself to the brink again?"*
He sat down, trying to recall the sensation, the moment it awakened. "If I can tap into that power again, maybe... just maybe, I stand a chance."*
As the pressure of the final match loomed large, Bright sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed and mind focused.
"I need to search deep within myself... down to the farthest edge of my soul. That hidden power—I must find it," he whispered to himself.
With that, he entered a state of intense meditation. His breathing slowed. His body stilled. And soon, the world around him faded away.
Hours passed.
Three full hours of silence, stillness, and inward searching.
Outside the room, his mother approached quietly with a meal, concerned he hadn't eaten since yesterday. But when she opened the door slightly and saw him in deep meditation, glowing faintly with spiritual energy, she paused.
Just then, Bright's father appeared behind her and gently stopped her from stepping in.
"Don't disturb him," he said softly. "He's diving into his inner sea... searching for something beyond ordinary strength. Let him be. Tomorrow's match depends on this."
The night slipped into dawn.
Birds began to chirp. The golden morning rays crept into the room.
Bright finally opened his eyes—sharp, focused, but with a hint of fatigue. He exhaled slowly, whispering to himself:
"I still have a long way to go... but I can feel it—I've unlocked something."
His stomach growled loudly.
He chuckled faintly. "Guess even spiritual breakthroughs can't feed the body."
Without wasting a second, he rushed out to eat. After finishing his long-awaited meal with speed and hunger only a warrior could match, he grabbed his bag and dashed out of the house.
"I'm coming, Rahul. Let's see who really stands at the top."
The sun stood high above the Glory Arena, its golden rays bathing the stadium in brilliance. Cheers echoed through the stands as students, teachers, and families took their seats, all buzzing with one name—the final match.
Bright stepped into the arena gates, his eyes scanning the crowd, looking for a familiar face.
"Where's Rahul...?" he muttered.
Soon, he spotted two of his close friends—Anu and Raj—chatting near the corridor.
"Hey!" Bright called out. "Have you seen Rahul?"
Raj shook his head. "Not yet. He hasn't arrived."
Bright nodded slowly, hiding his concern. "Alright."
The three exchanged a few words, Raj and Anu teasing him lightly about his serious face before wishing him good luck. "All the best, bro!" they grinned, heading to their seats.
As Bright walked toward the arena tunnel, he paused when his eyes caught sight of his family in the audience. His mother and sister waved proudly... but what froze him in place for a second was seeing his father—a man who rarely attended such events—watching silently from the stands.
Bright's chest tightened.
"He came... he's here to watch me. Damn, I can't mess this up."
In the center of the arena, the announcer's voice boomed through the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen! The time has finally come!"
"The last and greatest match of this year's Glory Academy tournament!"
"On one side, the rising flame, the phoenix child himself—Rahul Yadav!"
"And on the other... the thunder-striking genius, the bolt —Gourav Dutta!"
Cheers erupted.
Bright stepped into the battle stage, his face calm but his heart pounding. Every step echoed with purpose. Then, a few moments later, another figure entered—Rahul, dressed in battle gear, calm, determined, and healed.
The crowd exploded.
Everyone was on edge.
Even the announcer's tone shifted, becoming electric.
"This is it! The final fight! The clash for the title of Glory Academy's Top Ranker! Who will rise... and who will fall?"
"Let's begin the countdown—3... 2... 1... START!!"
As the announcer's final words faded into the roaring crowd, the atmosphere grew heavy—charged with power, anticipation, and unspoken respect.
Bright and Rahul stood face to face.
No words were needed… but Rahul smirked and broke the silence.
"Bright, let's go all out. No holding back today."
Bright smirked back, his eyes locked onto Rahul's. "Just what I was waiting for."
Without wasting a second, Rahul's aura exploded with crimson-golden flames. The Phoenix flared lightly behind him, and the very air seemed to shimmer with heat.
"Phoenix Contract – 5% Release!"
The ground beneath his feet cracked slightly as a fiery wave radiated outward.
Bright didn't back away. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and whispered—
"Thunder Step – Third Stage: Rampage."
His body flickered and vanished for a split second, reappearing with crackling electricity dancing along his arms and legs. But he wasn't done.
He clenched his fists, focusing his energy into his palms, and in a surge of electric light—he formed something new.
A glowing Thunder Handblade, shaped like a jagged, semi-transparent blade made of pure lightning, crackled into existence over each forearm.
The audience gasped. Even the announcer leaned forward.
"Looks like Bright just revealed a new technique—what is that?! A Thunder Handblade?! This is getting wild!"
Both fighters now stood in their peak base forms—Rahul with blazing phoenix flames and Bright surrounded by thunder and lightning, his blades humming in the air.
The battle erupted with a shockwave that rocked the entire stadium.
Bright and Rahul moved with such insane speed that only the elite fighters in the audience could keep up. To the untrained eye, it looked like flashes of lightning clashing with bursts of flame, the arena becoming a blur of raw power and movement.
"They're moving so fast… I can't even see them!" one student shouted.
Rahul lunged at Bright with blazing speed, his fist engulfed in burning inferno.
"Inferno Dash!" he roared.
He aimed a fierce punch toward Bright's chest—but Bright, in his Rampage Mode, read the movement and sidestepped effortlessly. His body flickered like lightning as he reappeared behind Rahul and unleashed a series of rapid slashes using his Thunder Handblades.
"Thunder Barrage!"
The strikes rained down like a storm—fast, fierce, and electrified. Rahul grunted as sparks danced across his skin, but he held firm, countering with spinning flame kicks that forced Bright to leap back.
With a flaming roar, Rahul flared his aura higher—
"Phoenix Inferno: Flame Talons!"
His arms glowed with molten energy as he charged again, the ground cracking beneath his feet from sheer force.
The two clashed mid-air, flame and lightning exploding on impact. Shockwaves burst in every direction. Every hit now shook the air. Every dodge was razor-close.
Bright gritted his teeth as the power from his Thunder Handblades began to destabilize, arcs of electricity flashing uncontrollably.
"Tch… it's breaking down. Just a bit more."
Rahul's flames surged around him.
"I'll end this!" he roared, launching a blazing uppercut.
Bright clashed with him head-on, both fists colliding—lightning versus fire. A colossal explosion followed, sending both of them flying in opposite directions.
Dust and smoke swallowed the battlefield.
When the air cleared… both of them stood, panting heavily. Cuts and burns marked their bodies. Their energy flickered like dying stars. Bright's Thunder Handblades cracked and finally shattered into sparks. Rahul's Phoenix aura collapsed, leaving behind faint trails of glowing embers.
They stared at each other, drenched in sweat, barely holding their stance.
The crowd was dead silent.
Both warriors were exhausted—but the fire in their eyes hadn't gone out.
Bright staggered back against the ropes, lungs burning and sweat stinging his eyes. Rahul Yadav stood across the ring, chest heaving, eyes fixed on the canvas at his feet. Both fighters were utterly spent after the grueling match – punches and kicks had landed, faces bruised and bodies aching. The roar of the crowd faded into the background as Rahul shook his head and lifted a shaky hand. "Bright," he said softly, voice trembling, "I… I can't keep going."
Bright, still clutching the ropes with both hands, stared at him in disbelief. The tension crackling in the air was replaced by a strange, stunned silence. "What do you mean? You okay?" Bright asked, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his glove. "We're almost there, man. Just a few more seconds."
Rahul's face was pale and sweaty; his shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "My body… it never properly recovered from the last match. My chest's burning, and my leg's giving out. I'd just waste your time. You're gonna win this anyway."
Bright took a step forward, shock and a hint of anger flaring in his heart. He raised his voice a bit, "No way. Don't—Don't you even think about quitting on me now. Come on, Rahul, you can do this!"
Rahul gave a weak, sad smile. He managed to stand upright, though his legs were shaking. "I wish I could," he said with a shake of his head. "But I can't. You've earned this, Bright. Just do your victory dance – the title's yours."
Bright's heart sank. Part of him felt angry that Rahul would forfeit, but another part recognized the truth in his words. Bright had dominated most of the fight, after all. He knew Rahul was truly in pain, and the sight of his friend barely holding on made Bright's own exhaustion pale in comparison.
The referee stepped forward, confusion on his face. "Rahul?" he asked, looking to Rahul for clarification. Rahul lifted a hand and addressed the ring announcer with quiet voice, "I forfeit. Bright wins."
A hush fell over the crowd. Bright lowered his gloves slowly. For a moment, he felt bitter disappointment. His chance to truly conquer Rahul in a fair fight was slipping away because of an injury. But as he looked at Rahul's honest, brave expression, the frustration melted into something warmer.
Bright took a deep breath and smiled shakily. "Okay, man," he said. He climbed down the ropes carefully and crossed to Rahul's side of the ring. Their faces were just inches apart. The crowd started cheering again, but around them it felt distant and muffled. "Congratulations," Rahul said quietly, opening his arms. Bright, barely believing what was happening, took the offered hug without hesitation.
They held each other tight, relief and affection passing between them. Rahul patted Bright's back and whispered, "You did it… you really did."
Bright pulled back a little, wiping away a sweat-soaked lock of hair from Rahul's forehead. His eyes shone with gratitude. "Thanks, Rahul. I— I couldn't have done it without you pushing me."
Rahul gave him a half-grin, blood speckled on his own skin. "Maybe next time I won't make it so easy for you," he joked, though his grin wobbled slightly with fatigue. "You won this time, but don't think I'll let you off that easy again. We'll see about that rematch, yeah?"
Bright chuckled, feeling his spirits lift. "You're on," he promised.
The announcer's voice cut through the moment, booming over the loudspeakers: "Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and the new Champion of Glory Academy… Gourav Dutta!"
A thunderous cheer exploded from the crowd. Bright's family – his two moms, his big sister, and even his normally stoic dad – jumped to their feet, waving and shouting his name. Bright's heart leapt. In the haze of adrenaline, the exhaustion began to creep in again, but it was drowned out by joy.
His father was the first to enter the ring, pushing through the entourage of trainers and coaches with urgent, shining eyes. They had always stood a little apart in the arena seats, supportive but distant in expression. Now, tears streamed down his face as he rushed toward Bright. He wrapped Bright in a huge, squeezing hug that lifted Bright just a bit off his feet. "You proved me wrong, my son," his father choked out between sobs, voice thick with pride and emotion.
Bright stared up, stunned. His father's arms felt warm and strong around him. "Dad… I—" Bright's throat went tight. He felt something breaking inside him, a barrier he never thought he'd cross. For years, his father had been proud and kind but never quite this openly emotional. Now, hearing those words, Bright's eyes filled with tears, too. He hugged his dad right back, squeezing as hard as he could.
Behind them, Bright's two moms were cheering and crying, one wiping away proud tears with a fist as she cried out, "That's my boy!" His big sister jumped up and down, clapping and shouting his name. Every cheer was a heartbeat of love and pride that washed over Bright.
In that ring, surrounded by everything and everyone he loved, Bright smiled wide. Rahul slipped back to the edge of the ropes and raised both arms, celebrating too, a victor though he hadn't struck the final blow. The crowd felt like a warm wave, but all Bright could see was his family's faces, shining with pride.
He leaned against his father's shoulder, letting the moment wash over him. For once, all those nights of training, the pain, the doubts – it all made sense and felt worth it. Rahul gave him a thumbs-up, and Bright laughed, even a little tear spilling down his cheek from happiness.
Bright's father gave his shoulders a final, gentle squeeze and stepped back, eyes glittering with joy. "You showed everyone what you're made of," he said softly. Bright just grinned, overcome. There were no words that felt big enough.
As the crowd continued to cheer and the arena lights blazed, Bright took a slow, deep breath, savoring the feeling of his family around him. No victory felt sweeter than sharing this one with them. The chapter closed on Bright's wide grin and the warm embrace of those he loved, forever changed by the one night he truly shone.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued...