Residual dust still drifted from the cavern ceiling, soft clouds illuminated by the glowing veins of mana that lined the subterranean arena walls. For a brief moment—just a breath—the battlefield lay still. One hundred and fifty fighters remained, their chests rising and falling in harsh rhythm after the chaos that had brought them to this point. Weapons dripped with sweat or crackled with mana. Eyes darted. Claws twitched. And in that moment of stillness, something subtle but unmistakable shifted.
The alliances—the temporary promises, the hasty pairings, the silent agreements—began to unravel.
Swift could feel it before he saw it. His Half-Silver Dragon senses prickled at the edges. His wings flickered faintly behind him in spectral outline as he scanned the room. The air tasted different now. Less desperate cooperation… more predator tension.
"Jake," he murmured without looking back.
Jake stood behind him, trembling faintly, bronze scales humming with low static. "Uh… yeah?"
"Stay close. From here on, trust no one except me."
Jake swallowed. "Oh great. The scary voice. That means things are bad, doesn't it?"
Swift didn't have to respond. Across the chamber, the shifts were already happening.
Ember Claw and Tundra Lynx shared a brief glance—something cold, something calculating—then without a word they separated, circling to opposite sides of the arena like twin storms moving in divergent paths.
Mira-the-Silent turned and simply walked into the shadows, vanishing as though she'd never been there. Gone. Just like that. No goodbye, no expression, no hint of future intentions.
Sedge Hat muttered to himself and wandered off, tinkering with a small metallic bead that no sane person wanted him to have. And Giga-Ronin… well, Giga-Ronin wasn't sure what an alliance was to begin with. He just stood where he was, staring forward, waiting for someone brave—or stupid—enough to step toward him.
Even Jade and Shadeclaw exchanged a brief, unspoken acknowledgment. They had fought side by side. They had won side by side. But they both knew the same truth.
Soon enough, they'd stand opposite one another.
But not yet.
The quiet tension snapped when the first growl echoed through the chamber.
Swift's ears twitched. Shadeclaw's fur bristled. Jade cracked a knuckle and grinned. Jake squeaked in terror.
Three shadows broke away from a darker corner of the cavern, low to the ground, moving in jagged predatory arcs.
Werewolves.
But not Wolf King's werewolves.
These were wild-bloods—rogue, feral, and absolutely not of the royal lineage.
The first stepped into the torch-lit center. Massive. Black fur matted with battle scars. A jagged spine ridge. Claws like hooked knives. His name was obvious even without introductions:
Grimhowl.
To his right came Rendmaw—leaner, more angular, red-eyed, teeth exposed in constant snarl.
To his left crept Fangtide—quick, hunched, drool sizzling on the stone where it landed.
Shadeclaw's eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, shoulders squared. His fur rose slowly, every muscle tightening with controlled fury.
Jake whispered, trembling, "Swift… are those… his cousins?"
Swift answered quietly, "No. Those are his inferiors."
Grimhowl growled deep in his chest, baring yellowed fangs. "Shadeclaw of the old pack…" His voice was rough stone and hunger. "You run with humans now. You shame our kind."
Rendmaw spat on the ground. "You bow to the Wolf King and reject your birthright."
Fangtide's claws scraped long grooves into the stone. "Join us… or fall."
Shadeclaw didn't blink.
He rolled his shoulders. His claws extended with a clean metallic scrape. His eyes glowed faintly with the royal wolf-blood's fire.
"I bow to no one," Shadeclaw growled. "Not to you. Not to your kind. And not even to Wolf King. I stand because I choose to."
Jade grinned wide. "Oi… someone's about to get humbled."
Grimhowl lunged.
Shadeclaw exploded forward.
They collided with such force that the stone beneath their feet splintered. Grimhowl slashed high; Shadeclaw caught his arm, twisted, and nearly snapped it. Rendmaw flanked from behind, claws aiming for Shadeclaw's spine—Shadeclaw kicked backward, connecting with Rendmaw's jaw so hard the werewolf staggered sideways.
Fangtide leapt to intercept. Shadeclaw twisted, eyes blazing, and grabbed him midair by the throat. He spun, using Fangtide's momentum, and slammed him headfirst into the ground. Teleporter beams flashed as Fangtide vanished before his skull could fully crack.
Jade hollered, "THAT'S IT, KIP! TEAR 'EM A NEW ONE!"
Rendmaw recovered and lunged low. Shadeclaw caught him with a descending elbow. He pinned Rendmaw's arm under his foot and raked a claw across his chest, sending sparks flying as claw met armor.
Grimhowl charged again, claws aglow with feral energy. Jade almost moved to intervene—but Shadeclaw's snarl stopped him.
"I fight my own," Shadeclaw growled.
He surged forward, meeting Grimhowl in a whirlwind of claws, bites, slams, and violent grappling. They rolled across the stone in a brutal tangle of fur and rage. Shadeclaw broke free, twisted, and sank his claws into Grimhowl's shoulder.
Grimhowl roared.
Shadeclaw lifted him—lifted him—and threw him across the cavern. The werewolf hit the ground, skidded, and tried to rise.
Shadeclaw was already on him.
One claw at the throat.
One foot pinning Grimhowl's chest.
Grimhowl's snarl faltered into fear.
"You are not worthy to challenge a royal," Shadeclaw said quietly.
His claw descended.
Grimhowl teleported out an instant before the killing blow landed.
Julian screamed into the mic, voice cracking, "HE JUST—HE—THAT—SHADECLAW IS NOT EVEN FULLY TRANSFORMED AND HE ANNIHILATED THEM!"
Jimmy whooped, "YES!! THREE WEREWOLVES DOWN! SHADECLAW TAKES THE BLOODLINE CROWN IN ONE ROUND!!"
Shadeclaw breathed heavily but evenly, fur settling, bloodline dominance unquestioned.
Jade punched his shoulder proudly. "That's my Kip."
Shadeclaw grunted.
And that was all.
The rest of the arena got the message.
Don't mess with Shadeclaw.
Period.
The tension snapped immediately into new combat as alliances fully dissolved. Ember Claw launched a crushing wheel of flame into a group of three fighters, forcing them to scatter. Tundra Lynx leapt high, claws slicing so cold they left frost trails behind him. Swift spun through the air with a shimmering frost arc, freezing two opponents midstrike. Jake followed up with a lightning-charged elbow that shattered the ice and knocked both fighters into teleport beams.
Jade blasted a fighter backward with a chi shotgun elbow, then pivoted with a spinning palm strike that knocked another off a platform. Shadeclaw, not yet recovered from his werewolf battle but burning with renewed dominance, slammed a spear-user into the wall and tossed him across the floor.
Mira appeared behind a ranked duelist, tapped his spine with two fingers, and he teleported without even knowing he'd been hit.
Sedge Hat dropped a bead and walked away. It detonated ten seconds later in a chain reaction so precise that two fighters were launched straight into teleporter beams like targets in a carnival game.
Giga-Ronin punched someone so hard the teleport happened twice.
Julian nearly fainted. "HOW—HOW DOES A TELEPORT GLITCH—WHY IS THAT A THING—"
Jimmy cackled loudly. "BECAUSE THIS IS AWESOME!"
Eliminations accelerated again.
One after another.
Burst after burst.
Shockwave after shockwave.
Pressure mounted. Breath grew ragged. Techniques sharpened. Wounds accumulated only to be healed instantly by teleportation.
The scoreboard fell rapidly:
138
133
129
126
123
120…
A heavy, collective exhale rippled through the arena.
Only one hundred and twenty fighters remained.
Swift wiped frost from his claws. "The next cut will be harsh."
Jake gulped. "Top 100 is close."
Jade cracked his knuckles. Shadeclaw growled lightly. Ember Claw reignited his arm. Tundra Lynx flexed ice from his claws. Mira silently reappeared in a different spot. Sedge held up a new bead with dangerous curiosity. Giga-Ronin leaned forward as if warming up.
Above them all, Danny's eyes sharpened faintly.
Wolf King's grin widened.
Every fighter stared at every other fighter.
No alliances.
No excuses.
No distractions.
Just strength.
Just survival.
Just the march toward the Top 100.
Fighters Remaining: 120 / 500