The thunderous applause from the first round had yet to die down.
Dust still drifted through the battered arena as the twenty remaining competitors stood scattered across the cracked stone floor. Chunks of marble had been torn free during the ten-minute free-for-all, leaving craters, scorch marks, frozen patches, and crystal formations spread across nearly every corner of the battlefield.
Ren holstered his revolver with a quiet sigh.
His breathing had steadied, but his muscles still ached from his fight against the man who manipulated the wind. Around him, the remaining competitors silently studied one another. Nobody spoke.
Everyone was measuring the people they might soon have to kill.
High above them, the Emperor slowly rose from his throne.
The arena immediately fell silent.
He smiled as his gaze swept across the survivors.
"Congratulations."
His voice echoed across the massive coliseum.
"You have survived the first round."
Cheers erupted from the spectators.
The Emperor raised a hand toward the dozens of unconscious contestants scattered around the arena floor.
A brilliant golden light descended from the sky.
One by one, every eliminated fighter began glowing.
Ren watched as the young man with the crystal sword blinked in surprise before disappearing into the light.
Another injured competitor vanished.
Then another.
Within moments, every defeated contestant had disappeared.
Only the twenty survivors remained.
Some of the audience gasped.
Others applauded.
The Emperor chuckled.
"There is no need for concern."
His voice carried easily through the stadium.
"Every contestant eliminated in the previous round has been transported to the Imperial Hospital beneath the palace."
He gestured toward the arena floor.
"They are receiving immediate treatment from our physicians. Those who survive their injuries will recover in time."
A wave of relief spread through the remaining competitors.
Ren hadn't wanted unnecessary deaths.
This tournament was dangerous enough.
The Emperor clasped his hands behind his back.
"Now..."
His smile widened.
"On to the second round."
The excitement returned instantly.
Trumpets sounded from the upper walls.
Soldiers stepped forward carrying ornate wooden chests.
They stopped around the arena.
The Emperor nodded.
"Approach."
The survivors exchanged cautious glances before walking toward the nearest soldier.
Each competitor reached into a chest and withdrew a small bronze token.
Ren flipped his over.
The number **3** was engraved across its face.
He looked around.
Jonah quietly held up his own token.
Three.
Good.
That made things easier.
The Emperor continued.
"The second round shall test something different."
He paused dramatically.
"Teamwork."
Several competitors frowned.
"You will form teams according to the numbers you have drawn."
The soldiers pointed toward four different sections of the arena.
"All contestants bearing the same number will fight together."
Ren counted quickly.
Five people.
Five teams of four?
No.
Twenty survivors.
Four teams.
Five members each.
His group slowly began gathering.
Jonah walked over first.
They exchanged a subtle nod.
Neither acted overly familiar.
They couldn't afford unnecessary attention.
A broad-shouldered man with dark bronze skin approached next.
He looked to be in his late twenties.
His black hair was tied behind his head, and several thin scars crossed his arms.
Unlike most competitors, he carried no visible weapon.
Only a confident smile.
"So we're teammates."
His voice was calm.
"Darius."
He extended a hand.
Ren shook it.
"Ren."
"Jonah."
Darius nodded politely.
As Jonah released the handshake, something caught his attention.
For the briefest moment—
He saw it.
A faint crimson mist drifting around Darius's veins.
Not visible with normal sight.
But legends could sometimes sense traces of another's inheritance.
Blood.
Jonah narrowed his eyes.
His legend had instinctively reacted.
Darius carried a legend connected to blood itself.
Interesting.
Before Jonah could think further, a shadow fell across the group.
A woman nearly as tall as Jonah approached with long black hair tied into a braid.
Her posture was perfectly straight.
She wore sleeveless combat attire that revealed intricate tattoos covering both arms, climbing across her shoulders and disappearing beneath the collar of her shirt.
The artwork wasn't random.
Every tattoo depicted an ancient weapon.
Spears.
Axes.
Bows.
Chains.
Swords.
Some symbols Ren couldn't even recognize.
She crossed her arms.
"Sofia."
Her voice was calm but confident.
"I suppose we're relying on each other."
Ren couldn't help glancing toward her tattoos.
She noticed.
"They're not decorative."
She smiled slightly.
"They're my legend."
Before anyone could ask another question, heavy footsteps echoed across the stone.
A massive man joined them.
Nearly six and a half feet tall.
Broad shoulders.
Short blond hair.
A broken nose that looked like it had healed more than once.
He folded his arms.
"Gareth."
His voice was deep.
"I watched all of you during the first round."
Ren raised an eyebrow.
"You watched instead of fighting?"
"I fought."
Gareth shrugged.
"I just prefer learning first."
His eyes moved between each teammate.
"The gunslinger."
He nodded toward Ren.
"Accurate."
Then Jonah.
"The immovable wall."
Darius.
"Interesting aura."
Finally Sofia.
"I've never seen anyone fight with tattoos."
Sofia smirked.
"You still haven't."
The five stood together awkwardly for a moment.
Ren finally broke the silence.
"So..."
"I guess introductions are in order."
Darius chuckled.
"Probably."
"I'll start."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"My legend manipulates blood."
Ren blinked.
"Your own?"
Darius smiled.
"Mostly."
Jonah quietly stored that information away.
Mostly.
That meant there was more.
Sofia raised one tattooed arm.
"My legend allows me to turn these tattoos into real equipment."
She placed two fingers against the image of a spear.
The tattoo shimmered.
Golden light spread across her skin.
A heartbeat later—
The spear peeled itself off her arm.
It became solid metal in her hand.
Ren's eyes widened.
She twirled it effortlessly before pressing it back against her skin.
The weapon dissolved into ink once again.
"Useful."
Ren admitted.
"It has to be."
She replied.
"I only have so much space."
Everyone turned toward Gareth.
He stretched lazily.
"My legend enhances the human body."
"Strength."
He flexed his arm.
The muscles visibly expanded.
"Speed."
He disappeared.
A gust of wind followed.
An instant later he stood behind Ren.
"Defense."
His skin briefly took on a metallic sheen.
"Senses."
He closed his eyes.
"I can hear someone eating bread in the fourth row."
Ren stared.
"...That's ridiculous."
"It helps."
Gareth grinned.
"What about you?"
Ren rested a hand on his revolver.
"My legend makes my bullets..."
He stopped.
Probability manipulation wasn't exactly something he wanted spreading around.
"...extremely accurate."
Darius laughed.
"I noticed."
Jonah simply folded his arms.
"I absorb kinetic energy."
Gareth nodded.
"Yeah."
"We all noticed."
Their introductions ended as a trumpet sounded overhead.
The Emperor stepped forward once more.
"The order has been decided."
A massive stone board rose from beneath the arena floor.
Golden letters carved themselves across its surface.
**TEAM ONE**
**TEAM TWO**
**TEAM THREE**
**TEAM FOUR**
The Emperor pointed toward the arena.
"The first match..."
The board shifted.
**TEAM TWO**
**VERSUS**
**TEAM ONE**
The gates opened.
The two teams entered amid deafening cheers.
Ren immediately recognized one competitor.
The man who had stared at Jonah during the free-for-all.
He still wore the same unreadable expression.
Even while walking toward the center of the arena...
His eyes briefly drifted toward Jonah again.
Recognition.
Jonah felt it.
But he couldn't place the man.
The horn sounded.
Their match began.
Ren watched carefully.
The mysterious fighter barely moved.
His teammates handled most of the battle.
Yet whenever an opponent threatened them—
He appeared.
One strike.
One movement.
One precise attack.
Another opponent fell.
His efficiency was unsettling.
Within minutes—
Team Two claimed victory.
The crowd roared as Team One left the arena.
The mysterious fighter glanced toward Jonah one final time before disappearing beneath the stadium.
Jonah frowned.
"Do I know him?"
"No."
Ren answered quietly.
"But he definitely knows you."
Before either could think further—
A horn echoed through the coliseum.
The Emperor's voice boomed across the arena.
"Team Three."
A massive gate slowly opened.
"It is your turn."
Ren looked toward his temporary teammates.
Darius smiled confidently.
Sofia rolled her shoulders.
Golden ink shimmered beneath her skin.
Gareth cracked his knuckles.
Jonah stepped forward without a word.
Ren adjusted his revolver.
Five strangers.
One battle.
Together, they walked through the gate and onto the arena floor.
On the opposite side...
Team Four emerged.
Five competitors.
Each wearing confident smiles.
Each carrying a different legend.
The horn had not yet sounded.
But every person in the arena could feel it.
The next battle was about to begin.