Barek walked in as proud and strong as ever, wearing his usual expression.
"Oh, I see y'all already here. Anyways, I'm here now, so would y'all mind tellin' me why y'all dragged me away from my pretty cool life, away from all y'all drama?"
He once again took a seat at the empty space none of the other vampire leaders would dare sit on, which brought about the other leaders acting confused and displeased.
Barek, meanwhile, just gave them a playful grin.
Across the room sat Valerik, also watching Barek intently.
'The King ordered me to get this monster's son? I can now see numerous ways that could've ended badly for all of us. The situation must be even worse than I thought.'
"Okay, now that Barek is here, the meeting shall finally commence," Max announced, giving the floor to the king.
The King rose and tapped his staff twice on the stone floor. A magical circle glowed to life above them, forming vivid illusions moving visions from the past of vampire society.
"Before I speak of what we face," the King began, "allow me to show you why we need this man—who exactly Barek Ironkong is. This is not merely a request for help. It's a desperate appeal to a force that once shook the very foundation of our world."
The illusion shifted to a packed coliseum within the famed vampire academy. Thunderous cheers echoed as the Graduation Tournament commenced, a final trial for the vampire nobles. In this tradition, each student fought one-on-one while clan leaders watched from grand balconies, selecting the ones they deemed worthy to enter their inner castles and inherit their unique abilities.
Only when chosen by a clan leader and passing their final trial would a student be granted the clan's ability.
A loud, charismatic commentator's voice rang out over the excited crowd.
"And now, vampires of all ranks and clans, the moment you've all been waiting for!" the announcer's voice echoed through the arena. "On the right, we have Charly Virefang—son of two of the elite guards from the Virefang clan! Trained since birth and born into the clan's inner circle, he already wields the Virefang's signature ability. Let's see how he puts it to use in today's match!
"And on the left—oh, you're gonna love this one—we've got Barek, the mysterious Ironkong from the outer circle! A freakish build, savage strength, and more rumors than anyone can count have been swirling around him since he joined the academy. What's he hiding? What's he got in store for us today?
"An inner circle ability user versus an outer circle powerhouse without one—this fight's about to get wild!"
Standing on the left was Barek, looking to be around sixteen. His dark skin caught the faint gleam of the arena lights, and his academy uniform hung loose and untucked — a black combat shirt threaded with thin crimson lines that glowed faintly in the dark, forming a subtle sigil-like pattern across the chest. His matching trousers were fitted but rugged, clearly made for movement rather than style. He was barefoot, his toes pressing into the cold obsidian floor, and his wild afro framed a face split by a wide, eager grin. Built like a war tank, standing at five foot eleven with broad shoulders and arms that looked carved from iron, Barek looked every bit the kind of fighter who lived for chaos and challenge.
On the right stood Charly Virefang, a stark contrast in every way. At five foot seven, he was lean and sharp, his body honed like that of a sprinter. His skin was pale, almost luminous under the moonlight filtering through the arena's crystal dome, and his long, dark red hair — the telltale mark of the Virefang bloodline — shimmered like liquid fire. His uniform was immaculate: shirt perfectly tucked, collar straight, every crease aligned as if measured. Even his black academy boots gleamed. Discipline radiated from him, from the way he held his stance to the steady calm in his crimson eyes.
Strapped on his hip was a slender, curved blade with a crimson edge. The hilt bore the insignia of his clan—a coiled fang wrapped around a moon sigil—and faint red runes pulsed along the weapon's length.
Two students from opposite worlds — the wild and the refined— stood ready, and the crowd could not contain their excitement.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the audience.
"Yo, that's the Ironkong kid, right? The one who broke the training pillar with his bare hands?"
"Outer circle or not, look at that build. He's built like a damn fortress."
"Yeah, but Charly's aura control is ridiculous. He's got that inner-circle discipline. One clean hit from him, and the Ironkong's done."
"Pfft, we'll see. They say when Barek gets serious, the ground shakes."
"Shakes? He's not even wearing shoes. That's disrespectful!"
"That's Barek. The dude treats every fight like a street brawl. He lives for this stuff!."
"Still… Virefangs don't play. The last guy who mocked their clan ended up drinking through a straw for a month."
Then a hush rolled through the stands as the arena lights dimmed, and all eyes locked on the two young vampires. Somewhere in the silence, someone whispered,
"Place your bets… strength or skill?"
The illusion zoomed in on Barek, whose dark, hairy skin and monstrous physique marked him clearly as one of the Ironkong-born, a unique clan of vampires born solely to vampires of same clan, its rumoured the first original of the Ironkong clan was the strongest original and had incredible defences. According to tradition, all such vampires were to be grouped under the Ironkong banner, a clan set apart by strength, resilience, and a dialect all their own. They were different—and proud of it.
Though the Ironkongs couldn't join other clans, they wore their lineage like armor. Rejection from other clans didn't weaken them, they didn't care.
*************
The bell rang—a deep, resonant chime that rolled through the arena like thunder.
For a moment, neither moved. Just two silhouettes staring each other down through the shimmering veil of moonlight.
Barek grinned, rolling his shoulders loose. "You ready to dance, pretty boy?" His voice carried that casual confidence, a mix of mischief and challenge.
Charly's eyes narrowed, crimson glinting under the light. "I don't dance," he said coolly, his tone razor-sharp. "I win."
Barek laughed, low and deep. "Yeah? Let's see if that fancy talk keeps up when my fist says hi."
Charly crouched slightly, aura flaring around him like scarlet mist. "Try me."
The ground cracked beneath Barek's feet as he took a step forward, that grin never leaving his face. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about."
The first clash was instantaneous. Barek threw a massive overhand punch, forcing Charly to leap back, leaving a thin streak of scarlet along Barek's shoulder where his sword had grazed him. The crowd gasped.
"Barek's already bleeding!" the commentator yelled, voice cracking. "And he's just brushing it off! Such raw resilience!"
Charly's movements became a blur, flashing around Barek in unpredictable arcs. He slashed with precision, each swing drawing shallow, thin lines of blood across Barek's chest and arms. "Virefang Blood Art, Crimson Serpent Strike!"
Barek growled, eyes narrowing. "You definitely fast alright, but dude, you ain't catchin' me like that all day." He swung, pivoted, and landed a heavy punch to Charly's ribs, Charly stepping back in time was able to avoid the attack, grazing him a little the sound of the punch echoed like stone shattering.
The crowd roared. "And Barek hits back! That's brute force from the outer circle!"
Charly stands back a little touching his side 'This much damage from just a graze?' he could feel his ribs take a hit.
Charly then charged at Barek, spun, ducked, and slashed again. "Scarlet Whip Slash!" The blade whistled through the air, leaving three crimson streaks in its wake. Barek staggered under the precision, a shallow cut across his forearm. He smiled, wiping the blood off his face. "Ha! Just a scratch, pretty boy. Come on now!"
'What is the deal here?! Am I doing any damage at all?!' Charly seemed really confused at how Barek is able to tank all his attacks like that. Charly then charged again at Barek, then leaped into the air once he was in range planning an attack from above.
Barek swung his fist again, catching Charly mid-leap with a crushing uppercut. The impact cracked the tiles beneath his feet. Charly tumbled backward but rolled to his feet in an elegant recovery, leaving faint streaks of blood where Barek's fist had grazed him.
The five leaders observed intently from above. Finn Virefang, dark-red hair and tall, leaned forward with subtle surprise. "So this is Charly, my old friends' boy… To be able to use the Virefang attacks as easily, I guess all the build up wasn't just for show" he smiled, "but this… this Ironkong is something else," he muttered, clearly taking an interest in the fight.
The Ironkong leader bared his teeth in pride. "He's mine, plain and simple. Watch him take this fight his way."
From their seats, the leaders of Phasaera, Mimscryst, and Mindveil shared quick murmurs.
Mindveil's leader shook her head. "Outer circle brute, no ability… yet holding his own against an inner circle? Impressive."
Mimscryst leaned back casually. "Technique versus power, classic. Don't see either giving up easily."
Phasaera leader stroked his beard. "Strength is one thing, control is another. Let's see which breaks first."
Back on the floor, Charly leapt into the air, sword glowing. "Lunar Fang Sever!" Three afterimages spun around Barek, each leaving cuts along his arms and torso. Blood streaked across his dark skin.
Barek grinned wider. "More cuts huh? Keep em coming!!." He charged like a battering ram, fists swinging, elbows crashing against the air. Each strike sent Charly skidding back several feet, barely keeping balance. Barek's legs lashed out in powerful kicks as he went in with a slide, knocking Charly off his feet more than once.
The commentator's voice cracked with excitement. "Unbelievable! Barek is a wall of raw power, punishing the inner circle prodigy with pure physicality! And Charly isn't giving up either—look at those precise counters!"
Charly's crimson eyes narrowed. "You're strong… but predictable." He darted forward, slashing with Scarlet Cyclone Barrage, leaving streaks of blood across Barek's chest and face.
Barek laughed, Ironkong style, voice heavy and rolling. "Predictable? Naw, man, you just ain't hittin' hard enough!" He swung a massive right, landing squarely on Charly's side. The impact reverberated through the arena.
Charly staggered, panting slightly, but his grip on the sword never wavered. "You'll have to do better than that," he taunted, darting around Barek, cutting lightly across his legs. Barek grunted, feeling the cuts, but didn't falter.
The crowd was in a frenzy, voices overlapping in excitement. "Charly's quick!" "Barek's tanking it all!" "Who's really gonna win?"
Then Barek paused briefly, chest heaving, a grin spreading. "Aight dude, fun's over, time to kick it up a notch."
Immediately, the floor trembled with a new intensity. Barek's aura flared, heavy and almost tangible, rolling outward like a tidal wave. The crowd fell silent, feeling the pressure. Finn Virefang leaned forward, jaw tight, astonished. "He… he's awakening something primal."
"What the hell!?" Charly shouted at Barek who just had a large grin on his face and eyes burning brightly red. He crouched a bit and then building strength in his legs he charged at Charly clearly going faster than he was before. "Did he get faster?" the king seated in the middle of the leaders was surprised. "That kid is not supposed to have any ability right?" The leader of the Phasaera said looking at the Ironkong leader who seemed to have the biggest smile on his face watching the fight, "this kid … he's mine!" the leader blurted. 'There he goes again, acting all crazed!' the leader of the Mimscrysts thought, looking at him.
Even Charly faltered slightly as he noticed the speed coming at him, he swung out his sword meeting Barek head on, but he was too fast, "Wha-?" Charly said shockingly, his strikes now grazing, unable to land as many hits. Barek's fists and elbows became unstoppable hammers, his kicks like battering rams. Charly's afterimages flickered and vanished under the force.
The commentator roared: "Barek just shifted into something else entirely! His raw strength is now coupled with an almost uncanny speed! And Charly is struggling to keep up!"
Finally, Barek caught Charly's sword mid-swing. The force snapped the weapon along the middle. Charly's crimson eyes widened, and he staggered back leaving his sword in Barek's hand as he prepared to block the oncoming attack with his fists. Barek's punch sent him crashing against the wall, followed by a heavy kick that left him slumped and bleeding.
The arena erupted as Barek raised a fist in triumph. "That's how an Ironkong closes it out!" he shouted, sounding confident and proud.
The Ironkong leader stood, roaring with pride. "That's my boy! That's my Ironkong!"
Finn Virefang exhaled slowly, still assessing, impressed despite himself. "The boy fought valiantly… but the brute strength overwhelmed him. Not bad at all."
"Oh Charly," his mother murmured. "He did good, but I guess he just has to train harder ." His father added, as they stood in the crowd with pride on their faces
The commentator's voice cracked above the cheering. "Barek walks away victorious, but what a match! Blood spilled, punches landed, precision versus pure strength. The arena will be talking about this fight for months to come!"
The arena buzzed with a different kind of energy now. The fight was over, and vampires were exchanging coins, talismans, and tokens from the bets they had placed. The air was thick with shouts, laughter, and the occasional groan of disappointment.
"Yo! Spot me ma fifty cloaks man!" one Ironkong shouted to a Virefang, grinning wide. "Barek took it, man, just like I said!"
"Damn, should've listened to you," another muttered, handing over a handful of crimson coins to the victor.
"Here you go man" a young Virefang called out, handing off a small stack of gems to a friend who had bet on Barek. "That kid put up a fight though… respect."
Across the arena, fans were still arguing over their losses and winnings.
"Barek brute-forced that whole last round, man!"
"Yeah, but Charly's skill had me hyped, almost had him too!"
"Next time, I'm pickin' outer circle brute every time," a teen from the Mimscryst section grumbled, counting coins.
The Crimson Healers—vampire subclasses from the Virefang clan known as the Serpent Wardens—moved through the crowd with quiet authority, carefully guiding Charly on their hovering stretcher. Their white-and-crimson robes glowed faintly, sigils etched with serpentine patterns lighting the way.
"Easy now, Charly," one murmured, brushing her glowing hands over his cuts, stabilizing him. "You gave it everything. That's what matters."
Charly's parents followed close behind, keeping pace with the medics. His mother whispered, "He fought with heart. That's what I'm proud of."
His father nodded. "We'll train him harder next time. He's only just begun."
Meanwhile, Barek strode across the battlefield alone, shoulders broad, chest heaving with controlled pride. He grinned at the crowd, crimson eyes gleaming.
"Y'all better remember this face and ma name," he boomed in full Ironkong style, his voice deep and rolling. "Barek don't lose, feel me?"
The crowd erupted again, some cheering for him, some lamenting their losses, all caught in the thrill of the fight.
"Did you see the speed shift?" a voice shouted. "That Ironkong went from tank to lightning!"
"I swear, the dude's insane, I told you he lived for this stuff!" another chimed in. "Charly had skills, but that strength… nothing could stop him!"
Even the leaders reacted quietly from their elevated seats. Finn Virefang exhaled, arms crossed. "The boy fought valiantly," he murmured. "But that brute strength… unforgettable."
The Ironkong leader threw his head back and laughed, the sound rolling like thunder. "That's my boy! Ain't nobody takin' down an Ironkong like that!". 'Here we go again', Mimscrysts leader thought, rolling her eyes at the Ironkong leader's reaction.
Charly's parents lingered near the medics, still anxious but proud, as the Serpent Wardens floated him toward the healing chambers. Fans reached out, waving and shouting encouragement. "Get well soon, Charly!"
"Come back swinging!"
"Next time, don't let that brute catch you!"
The arena gradually settled, coins and tokens exchanged, the metallic tang of blood still lingering, the crowd buzzing from the spectacle they had just witnessed. The victorious Barek walked out through the main gates, the cheers for him ringing loud, leaving everyone in the stands energized and talking about the fight long after the echoes of the bell had faded.