With the first light of dawn, it seemed the capital had not slept. Festival drums thundered with the rising sun, banners rippled through every street and square, and the entire city seemed poised for a fateful hour. Merchants' cries mingled with the roar of crowds—every voice speaking of a single thing: the final duel.
Gray – In the Quiet Before
Inside a modest recovery chamber, Gray sat on a wooden cot, his arms and chest still wrapped in fresh bandages. His pale face was lifted toward the ceiling, eyes locked in a silence heavy with memory. Images of yesterday's battle against Kota flickered in his mind—slashes, roars, that crushing kick that nearly broke him.
He drew a slow, trembling breath, fighting the shadow that crept into his chest.
"Can I really stand against Halmez? Is what I've learned… enough?"
The door opened softly. Kin entered alone, no guards, no fanfare. He placed a small pouch of pungent herbs on the table and glanced at Gray with eyes cold as glass. His words were brief:
— "You don't need to defeat him… only prove yourself."
Without waiting for an answer, Kin turned and left. Gray stared at the pouch, puzzled—but in his heart, a spark of resolve burned brighter.
The Arena – Noon
By midday, the grand arena was packed to its last seat. Tens of thousands filled the stands, their anticipation a storm ready to break. The booming voice of the announcer rose above it all:
— "Ladies and gentlemen! The moment has come! The final duel—between the unknown upstart who defied all odds, Gray… and the undefeated champion of three long years… Halmez!"
The stands shook with cheers, some screaming Halmez's name in frenzy, others calling out Gray's with desperate hope.
The announcer's voice thundered again:
— "Here he is—the champion who carved his name across the northern battlefields, who fought in dozens of official wars, first in three grand tournaments, runner-up in last year's crown duel… Halmez, thirty-five years of age!"
The side gate of the arena creaked open. From it strode a giant. His frame was a fortress of muscle and scars, his black armor glinting beneath the sun. Every step boomed like a drumbeat of doom. His eyes, cold and sharp, fixed immediately on Gray.
The crowd erupted:
— "Halmez! Halmez! Halmez!"
At the opposite gate, another door swung open. Gray emerged, his steps slow but unshaken, his face calm, his gaze locked straight ahead.
The stands split with their judgment:
— "A boy against Halmez? A farce!"
— "He toppled Kota—don't dismiss him yet!"
The Royal Stands
High above, the king and his sons watched. Adrian, the eldest, sat rigid, eyes sharp, silent as stone.
Leon scoffed, shaking his head:
— "A lucky beginner. He won't last a heartbeat against Halmez."
Darius leaned forward, voice hard as iron:
— "The festival spares no one. Kota was nothing but a warm-up. Now the boy will learn his place."
Kin's lips curled into a cold smile:
— "Perhaps. But look closer—next to this boy's fire, Halmez already looks bloated and dull."
A royal advisor murmured cautiously:
— "The festival always unveils new talent… perhaps this boy is one such surprise."
The king said nothing, his piercing gaze fixed on the arena, revealing nothing of his mind.
Across the City
Markets roared with wagers. Coins—aur by the handful—slammed onto tables.
— "Gray will be crushed!"
— "Nonsense—he didn't beat Kota by luck. He might do it again!"
Taverns swelled with shouts, each bet carrying both coin and trembling hope.
The Arena – The Silence Before the Storm
Now, at the center of the arena, Gray and Halmez stood face-to-face. Silence thickened the air, heavier than steel. One was a veteran scarred by wars, the other a youth wrapped in bandages yet unbowed.
The announcer raised his hand high, his voice splitting the heavens:
— "Ladies and gentlemen! This is the duel that will decide glory itself… Gray versus Halmez! Let the battle begin!"
The arena exploded into a roar that shook the skies.
End of Chapter