The arena was too quiet.
Even with thousands of spectators pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, even with the heat of the lights and the crackling tension, something had settled over the coliseum like a held breath. Builder-bots scurried across the floor, sealing fractures and patching burn-lines left from the last match, but even they moved with an almost reverent urgency. As if they understood that whatever came next would shake the arena harder than anything yet.
Swift stepped onto the platform.
The stone radiated heat beneath his boots. Every instinct he had screamed at him to turn around, to run, to do anything other than face the monster waiting for him. His hands trembled—not from weakness, but from the echoes of another moment, another battlefield, where Bones had looked down at him with cruel delight and shown him what dying felt like.
He shook it off. Or tried to.
Across the arena, the opposite gate cracked open.
Wolf King emerged like a star being born.
Flames rippled under his fur—not uncontrolled, not wild, but held with absolute, sovereign command. His eyes glowed gold-hot, ancient and inexorable. The air warped around him, bending to the weight of his aura. Even gravity felt different in his presence.
Swift swallowed. Hard.
Jimmy's voice trembled over the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen—if there's a god out there, please hold onto your snacks—because this is about to be the kind of fight that gets statues built or entire cities evacuated."
Julian added, "Wolf King's power output is… fluctuating at levels above any recorded metric in the tournament." He glanced at Swift's vitals. "And Swift's heart rate is… extremely elevated."
"You don't say," Jimmy muttered.
On the sidelines, Danny watched in silence, arms folded tight. His aura pulsed faintly, unstable but attentive. Shadeclaw leaned forward, eyes narrowed. Ember Claw's fur bristled subtly with anticipation. Jade cracked his knuckles with enthusiastic violence.
Jake hovered in a medbay pod behind the booth, wincing with every breath. "Swift… dude… I believe in you. But also, don't die."
Swift flexed his fingers, forcing his breathing into a steady rhythm. His Silver Dragon instincts thrummed beneath his skin—scales itching to surface, wings twitching to unfurl. He stepped forward onto the arena floor.
Wolf King looked at him—not with contempt, not with malice.
With expectation.
"Stand tall, Silver Dragon," he said, voice deep enough to vibrate the stone. "If you kneel today, it is because I put you there."
Swift's throat tightened.
Then he forced a weak smirk. "I don't kneel. Not to skeletons, not to nightmares, and definitely not to overgrown dogs."
The crowd gasped.
Wolf Queen's brow arched. Shadeclaw snorted. Ember Claw's eyes widened slightly.
Wolf King smiled.
Not a cruel smile.
A pleased smile.
"Good," he said. "Hold to that."
The bell chimed.
Wolf King vanished.
Swift barely saw the blur of flame and muscle before a fist the size of a boulder smashed into his ribs. The impact sent shockwaves skittering through his bones. Air blasted from his lungs. He flew backward—twenty feet, then thirty—crashing into the patched arena floor and tearing up a line of molten stone.
He rolled, choking on pain.
Wolf King landed in front of him with a crack that spiderwebbed the ground.
"Rise."
Swift scrambled upright, gasping, Silver scales erupting across his arms and shoulders in reflex. His wings unfurled with a metallic snap. He moved just in time—Wolf King's next strike blew through the space his head had occupied, leaving a crater a foot deep.
Swift spun, wings cutting through the air, sending a silver chi slash toward the wolf's torso.
Wolf King stepped through it.
Not dodged. Not blocked.
Walked through it, flames burning the chi away like wet paper.
Swift cursed and launched himself upward, beating his wings hard. Wolf King tilted his head back, tracking him with bright amusement.
Swift dove.
He came down with a silver-lined kick, a technique meant to stagger even high-level draconic fighters.
Wolf King caught Swift's entire leg in one hand.
The crowd's shout cut off in a strangled choke.
Wolf King swung Swift like a hammer and slammed him into the ground. The stone cracked and dipped, dust exploding into the air. Swift tried to roll—Wolf King stomped beside him, the shockwave skidding Swift sideways.
Pain lanced through Swift's spine. He coughed hard, spitting copper.
"Fear grips you," Wolf King said, pacing around him with burning grace. "You carry the memory of a lie."
Swift's fingers twitched.
Wolf King continued, voice like a lesson in a harsh academy. "Bones killed you in your mind. He stole your belief in your own survival."
Swift's hands curled into fists.
Wolf King stopped in front of him. "But you live. And if you wish to remain living—fight like it."
Swift roared.
Silver aura flared around him as he launched himself upward, wings beating hard. He dove again, this time spinning, tail whipping outward.
Wolf King caught the tail and yanked him down.
Swift hit the ground hard enough to bounce.
But he twisted midair, slashing upward with silver-clawed fingers. His strike connected with Wolf King's chin—hard enough to snap the wolf's head slightly to the side.
The arena went dead silent.
Wolf King touched his jaw.
A smear of blood came away on his thumb.
It was the first time in the entire tournament anyone had struck him cleanly.
Wolf King's eyes lit with delight. "Better."
He blurred.
Swift barely managed to cross his arms before the next hit landed. Wolf King's fist crashed into his guard like a collapsing mountain. Swift's arms buckled; he flew backward again, wings flapping wildly.
He managed to right himself midair.
Wolf King leapt after him, punching upward. The attack detonated like a bomb, sending Swift spiraling into the barrier. The energy shield flickered under the impact, sparks dancing across Swift's scales.
Swift gasped, gripping his chest. His ribs felt cracked—maybe more.
He steadied himself.
Then dove again.
Wolf King met him midair.
They clashed in a flurry of blows—fists colliding, wings slashing, claws scraping across scales. The air boomed with every strike. Swift's speed surged; his wings beat faster than thought, and silver lines of chi carved through the smoke around them.
For a moment—
Just a moment—
Swift kept pace with the King.
Their auras smashed together, silver and burning gold, sending ripples through the arena.
Julian stared in disbelief. "Swift's energy spike—he's surpassing recorded Silver Dragon outputs. He's—he's tapping into something deeper."
Jimmy screamed, "HE'S BECOMING A REAL DRAGON AND I'M NOT READY FOR THIS EMOTIONAL GROWTH ARC!"
Swift's body moved on instinct, a dragon's instinct buried deep in blood older than civilizations. He dodged with inhuman speed, slashed with wing-edges sharp enough to cleave steel, and hammered Wolf King with three blows in rapid succession—a combo he didn't even know he remembered.
Wolf King stumbled a step.
A step.
The arena erupted.
Ember Claw's jaw dropped. Shadeclaw tensed. Wolf Queen's eyes narrowed sharply.
Danny's aura stabilized, golden light flaring with recognition.
Swift, panting, eyes blazing silver-white, growled:
"I'm not afraid of you."
Wolf King's grin widened, fangs gleaming.
"Good," he whispered. "Then survive this."
His aura exploded.
Flames roared outward in a shockwave, a tidal wave of blue-gold fire. The arena floor liquefied under the heat. Builder-bots fled. The energy barrier groaned under the sudden surge.
Swift didn't have time to dodge.
Wolf King crashed into him like a comet, grabbing his arm and hurling him across the arena. Swift hit the wall, bounced, and hit the floor. His vision went white from the pain.
Wolf King was already there.
He stomped down—
Swift rolled away just in time. The floor where he'd been exploded into molten gravel.
Swift staggered up, wings dragging.
Wolf King struck again—a blur of pure killing technique, precise and overwhelming. Swift blocked with everything he had left. His arms cracked. His shoulder dislocated. His left wing tore along the edge.
Swift screamed—
But didn't fall.
He stepped forward.
Wolf King's eyes glowed with approval.
Swift channeled everything—fear, memory, rage, hope—into one last silver burst. His aura surged, a brilliant explosion of light. He threw a punch, silver chi spiraling around his arm.
Wolf King caught the punch.
Swift pushed with everything he had.
But the King didn't move.
"Your courage," Wolf King said, "surpasses your strength."
Then he slammed Swift into the floor.
Hard.
The stone cratered. Swift's silver aura flickered, then guttered.
Wolf King lifted one hand, flames curling around his claws, and struck Swift across the chest with a blow so powerful it cracked the floor for thirty feet.
Swift collapsed, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The bell rang.
The arena stayed silent.
Then:
"WINNER: THE WOLF KING."
The crowd erupted.
Wolf King stepped over Swift's fallen body—not in dismissal, but in recognition. He placed one burning hand gently on Swift's forehead.
"In time," he murmured, "your wings will eclipse the sky."
Medbots surged around Swift, lifting him carefully.
Jake shouted from the medical rail: "BRO YOU DID AMAZING—I MEAN YOU GOT DESTROYED BUT AMAZINGLY DESTROYED!"
Swift didn't answer. He was unconscious, but peaceful.
Danny watched the stretcher pass by.
For the first time in many chapters—
He looked truly awake.
Wolf King turned toward the fighters' platform.
His flames dimmed.
"Next," he said simply.
The announcer's voice shook.
"NEXT MATCH… DANNY VS JADE."
The arena erupted into a frenzy.
Danny stepped forward.
Jade cracked his chi-loaded knuckles.
And the battle that would shake the bracket to its core began to loom.