The crowd roared as the announcer's voice boomed across the arena.
"Welcome back, hunters and citizens! The Round of 16 begins now! Each fight will test not just strength, but will, and only the best will move forward!"
The crystal screen lit up with the names of the opening match.
Match One: Hyerin (Association) vs. Hyuna (Behemoth).
In the waiting hall, Hyerin sat with her staff resting across her knees, her knuckles pale from gripping it too tightly. She was scared, fearing that she didn't deserve to be here and was lucky to get to the round of 16 having narrowly defeating Winter in yesterday's match.
Do-jin and Min-seo, both battered but present, stood near her. Their voices carried quiet encouragement, though their bodies still bore the bruises of their own losses.
Renji crouched beside her, his voice low, steady. "Remember, Hyuna will try to rattle you before she even strikes. Don't listen to her and only trust in your skills okay?"
Hyerin drew in a breath, her eyes narrowing with determination. "Yes, oppa."
The announcer's voice shook the chamber walls. "Hunters! Enter the arena!"
Hyerin walks along the tunnel meeting the light at the end, the crowd roared seeing her and stepping unto the stage
Across the arena, Hyuna was already waiting. Draped in dark crimson, her smile was sweet and merciless all at once. She tilted her head as Hyerin entered, eyes glittering with amusement.
"My, my," she purred, her voice carrying even without amplification. "So this is Renji's little mage. Cute. Let's see how long you last before you freeze up."
The crowd erupted, half in cheers, half in laughter.
Hyerin lifted her staff, frost blooming faintly around her feet. "I won't back down."
The referee's arm shot into the air. "Begin!"
The ground responded instantly to Hyuna's will. Great spears of stone erupted, ripping toward Hyerin with merciless force. Hyerin reacted in a blink, ice surging under her boots. She skated sideways, narrowly avoiding the jagged volley, her staff sweeping in an arc to conjure a glacial barrier. The pillars slammed against her frost wall, shattering both ice and stone into a glittering spray that showered the battlefield.
The crowd erupted in cheers at the clash of elements.
Hyuna smiled, her voice carrying even above the noise. "You move well, little rabbit. Quick feet, sharp instincts." She raised her hand again, the earth buckling in answer. This time the attack was subtler, deadlier a dozen sharp bullets of rock tore free of the ground, darting toward Hyerin like arrows loosed from invisible bows.
Hyerin ducked low, her boots sliding across the frozen sheen she spread beneath her with every step. Each twist of her staff sent shards of ice spiraling back at her foe, sharp and cold, but Hyuna brushed them aside with contemptuous ease. The ground rose like shields before her, devouring the frost.
Still, Hyerin did not falter. Her movements grew quicker, sharper, each retreat purposeful. Ice layered across the battlefield with every pass of her staff a thin web spreading outward, unnoticed by most save the keenest eyes.
Hyuna noticed.
The smile on her lips deepened, edged with hunger. "Casting while running and keeping your aim steady." Her gaze sharpened as she let her stone bullets crumble back into dust. "That takes discipline. I give you props little mage."
She tilted her head, her tone teasing yet cutting. "But don't misunderstand your strength lies only in survival. You're agile enough to flee but prey that refuses to die only makes the hunt sweeter."
The crowd was cheering watching both mages fight with their all. They could feel it the match was not only a duel of spells, but of wills.
Hyerin's chest rose and fell with effort, sweat already forming along her brow, but her eyes never left Hyuna. She didn't waste breath on taunts, nor flinch at the mocking words. Each step backward, each dodge, each deflected strike was part of her rhythm. The frost beneath her widened, crawling along the arena floor like veins of ice, ready to entangle.
Hyuna raised a single finger, and the earth beneath Hyerin's feet shuddered violently, a spike shooting upward like a predator's fang. Hyerin leapt at the last instant, her body twisting mid-air, staff glowing bright. She landed in a crouch, spinning to fire a flurry of icicles back across the arena.
They sang as they flew, sharp as glass.
For the first time, Hyuna didn't block with stone. Instead, she let them cut shallow lines along her arm, shards shattering against her skin as if she had invited them. Her smile did not waver. If anything, it grew more wicked.
A hush rippled through the crowd at the sight of blood.
Hyuna licked her lips, almost delighted. "Finally a bite." Her voice was velvet wrapped around steel. "You're not just running you're laying your little trap."
Her eyes glimmered with admiration and cruelty. "But tell me, little mage, do you truly believe you can snare a predator like me?"
The tension grew unbearable. The arena itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see if Hyerin's frost could turn the hunter into the hunted.
The hush snapped like brittle glass.
Hyerin planted her staff into the floor, breath ragged, voice low but steady. Frost erupted outward, a sudden surge that transformed the scattered veins of ice into a lattice, a sprawling web that caught the arena floor in its grasp.
The crowd gasped. In her retreat, in every frantic dodge and desperate slide, she had not merely been surviving. She had been preparing.
Hyuna's heel cracked against the ice as she shifted her stance. The smile lingered, though her eyes sharpened. "So this was the trap you were setting"
Hyerin's staff flared with pale light. The frost web answered, jagged spears of ice bursting upward in a circle around Hyuna, closing in like the jaws of a trap. For the first time in the match, the seductress mage of Behemoth was forced onto the defensive.
The ground buckled. Pillars of stone erupted, intercepting the icy fangs mid-strike, shattering them into glittering dust. The clash of earth and frost rattled the stands.
But Hyerin wasn't finished. Her boots skated forward across the ice she had sown, speed carrying her past the falling shards. Her staff swung wide, conjuring a crescent of razor frost aimed straight for Hyuna's chest.
Hyuna laughed low, throaty, delighted. "Yes! That's it! I like my prey struggling till their last breath"
With a twist of her wrist, the earth surged to meet the blade of ice. Stone and frost clashed, exploding into shards that cut both combatants. Tiny cuts traced Hyuna's cheek, while Hyerin's arms trembled from the recoil.
The arena was no longer watching a one-sided hunt. They were watching a mage who refused to bow, who had turned flight into strategy, desperation into defiance.
Still, Hyuna's aura thickened, her beauty darkening with menace. Blood ran down her arm, but she wore it like jewelry, crimson against pale skin. She raised both hands now, the arena floor groaning under her command.
"You've earned my attention," she purred, voice dripping with both praise and threat. "But let's see if your ice can survive when the earth itself rises to swallow you."
Hyerin braced, staff glowing, the frost web beneath her shattering like glass about to break. She didn't flinch, didn't glance away.
Hyerin's breath came in short bursts, white fog spilling from her lips as she clutched her staff like it was the only thing anchoring her to the arena floor. The crowd was a blur of sound cheers, jeers, and gasps but all she could hear was the groaning earth and Hyuna's low, taunting laugh.
Stone walls hemmed her in, jagged teeth snapping shut on every side. Her frost snapped against them but melted just as quickly. She was being cornered, squeezed into a coffin of earth.
Hyuna raised one hand, her voice smooth and cruel. "Run all you like, little rabbit. The hunt ends here."
The ground convulsed, and a single spike of stone, sharpened like a spear, shot toward Hyerin's chest.
She screamed not in fear, but in defiance and swung her staff at the last possible heartbeat. Ice burst forth, wild and imperfect, her counterattack veering just off its mark. The jagged lance missed Hyuna's face, but not entirely a thin line of blood opening her cheek and a few strands of her hair cut short.
The crowd erupted in shock.
Hyuna froze. Her fingers brushed the cut, her eyes lingering to the strands that fall near her feet. For the first time, her smile faltered, replaced by something far more dangerous.
"You dare"
The air thickened. Mana swirled around her, suffocating, vibrating with the promise of death. With a twist of her hand, the arena floor shook, the spell she began to weave far beyond the limits of a sanctioned duel. This was not an exhibition strike, it was execution.
Hyerin stumbled, body drained, too slow to move.
Then a shadow fell over her.
The earthen spike shattered against a blade, fragments spraying harmlessly into the air. Renji stood between them, sword drawn, eyes cold as midnight.
"That's enough." His voice cut through the chaos.
Hyuna's eyes widened, but her fury only burned brighter. Mana surged until a second pressure pressed against hers, heavier, colder.
RM strode in from the opposite tunnel, hand already glowing as buffs shimmered faintly around Renji and Hyerin and beside him, calm as a man strolling through a garden, came Suga. His presence was not loud. It was absolute.
The entire arena hushed. The oppressive wave of Hyuna's killing intent buckled under something sharper, deeper the quiet authority of an S-Rank mage.
Suga's eyes, dark and unreadable, lifted to Hyuna. His tone was flat, but it carried like thunder.
"I felt that from the stands. That was no duel spell."
Hyuna bristled, her seductive mask cracked by genuine unease. For the first time, she looked less like a predator and more like prey caught in another's gaze.
Renji glanced back, his voice softer as he steadied Hyerin. "You did well. Leave the rest to us."
Hyerin's lips trembled, but she nodded, clutching her broken staff as tears stung her eyes. She had fought. She had left her mark and now, the storm she had awakened would not let her fall alone.
The referee announced Hyuna's win and a stretcher was called for Hyerin who had fallen asleep from the exhaustion and was carried to the medical ward. Renji, RM, and Suga followed her to the tunnel and to the association's room
The healers worked in silence. Hyerin's staff lay across the cot, her fingers twitching faintly even in unconsciousness. A thin film of frost clung to her skin the last trace of her resistance.
Renji stood close, his expression unreadable, though his hand lingered near his sword as if it might still be needed. RM handled the introductions, his voice lower than usual.
"Renji, this is Suga. You should have met before but he's been abroad on Association orders."
Suga regarded him without ceremony. His presence was quiet, but it pressed down on the room in a way no words could. "China," he said, his tone clipped. "A dungeon break. If we hadn't sealed it when we did, it would have leveled two provinces."
Renji met his gaze with the same level steadiness. "You came back at the right time."
"I didn't come back for this," Suga answered, eyes narrowing. "But I felt it the moment she cast. That wasn't a match spell, it was meant to kill. If I hadn't stepped in, then there would be a fight between Behemoth and the Association."
Renji's reply was flat, without pride or excuse. "If it did then Behemoth would have lost one of their members"
Suga's gaze lingered on Renji, dark and sharp. He said nothing at first, only studied the man in front of him as though he were parsing a riddle. Finally, his lips curved into the faintest, humorless line.
"A bold statement," he said. "But not an empty one. I saw how fast you moved. Most hunters wouldn't have even registered her cast before it landed."
RM exhaled, heavy, the tension in the room coiling tighter. "That's the problem. Behemoth is testing boundaries. If Hyuna's attack had connected, this wouldn't be about rookies anymore it would be open blood between guilds and the Association would be dragged into it whether we want it or not."
Renji's eyes cut to Hyerin, pale on the cot, then back to the others. His voice was cool, measured, but there was iron beneath it. "They already crossed the line. The only difference is that I stopped it before it was carved into her body."
For a moment, silence pressed down. The healers in the far corner avoided looking at them, working quietly, as if afraid a stray glance might spark violence.
Suga's hand twitched at his side, not toward a weapon but with the restrained instinct of someone accustomed to answering threats. His words, when they came, were slow.
"If Behemoth believes they can dispose of rookies to make a point, then their arrogance has blinded them." He tilted his head, studying Renji as though weighing something heavier than words. "But you didn't hesitate. That kind of instinct is not E-rank. Not A-rank either."
Renji met his eyes without flinching. "Rank doesn't matter. Survival does."
The words hung in the room like the clash of steel.
RM finally pushed off the wall, stepping between them with deliberate calm. "Enough. We're not here to measure pride. The rookies need to know this wasn't their failure it was Behemoth breaking the rules."
Renji's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His silence spoke louder than protest.
Suga gave one final, assessing glance at him before turning toward the door. "Tomorrow, the games continue but understand this if Behemoth tries again, I won't let it slide and neither will the Association."
The door shut softly behind him, though the weight of his presence lingered like a shadow.
Renji stood a moment longer, gaze fixed on the unconscious girl on the cot. Then he, too, turned away, his expression carved from stone.
Renji's match in the round of 16 was quick. His opponent was a mage and after seeing Renji deflect Hyuna's attack from earlier, he quickly surrendered fearing for his own life and that gave him a free pass towards the final 8 of the tournament.
The Behemoth Guild hall was silent, the kind of silence that pressed on the lungs. Hyuna stood near the center, her chin tilted high, arms folded as if daring anyone to challenge her but across the long oak table, Seungri sat motionless, one hand resting on the armrest, the other curled into a fist against his lips. His eyes cold, calculating never left her in his sight.
Finally, he spoke.
"You nearly destroyed months of preparation with a single attack." His tone was quiet, the calm before a blade is drawn. "Do you realize what you've done?"
Hyuna smirked, a curl of defiance in her lips. "I only reminded the Association that Behemoth doesn't kneel to their rookies. That girl wasn't even worth"
The table cracked under Seungri's fist before she could finish. The sharp sound echoed through the hall like a gunshot.
"Enough." His voice was steel wrapped in ice. "You think this is about worth? One misstep, and the Association would have every reason to strip us of our standing. They would call us murderers, and half our sponsors would vanish overnight. You don't fight for yourself here, Hyuna. You fight for me. For Behemoth."
Her smirk faltered, just slightly, but she refused to lower her eyes. "I only did what you didn't have the courage to do, striking first."
Seungri rose from his chair. The weight of his mana bled into the room, invisible chains that pressed on every chest. He didn't shout. He didn't need to. His words landed like a blade laid across her throat.
"You mistake courage for recklessness. You mistake loyalty for indulgence. If you ever endanger this guild again, I won't care how strong you are, Hyuna. You'll find out how Behemoth devours its own."
The room remained still. Hyuna's lips parted, as if to answer, but no sound came. At last, she dipped her head, the barest acknowledgment of his authority.
Seungri sat again, his expression smoothing into that of a man already planning the next move. "Control your temper or I'll make sure you wished you had finished her."
The first match of the quarterfinals were between Renji and Jung Joon-young, the man who fought Do-jin, Jung Joon-young's name thundered through the arena. The man strode out with his weapon slung over one shoulder a great sword so massive it seemed to drink in the light, its edges chipped from battle yet no less terrifying. It was the same blade that had sent Do-jin crumpling to the dirt, the same brutal steel that no made him break his shield.
Across from him stood Renji. No grand entrance, no raised weapon for the crowd. Just calm steps, one after the other, like a man walking into something inevitable.
Joon-young grinned wide, teeth flashing beneath the glare of the spotlights. He rolled his shoulders, flexed thick cords of muscle, then lowered his great sword and let it drag across the arena floor with a shriek of steel on stone. The sound set the crowd howling all over again.
"So this is the miracle," Joon-young sneered, voice carrying easily in the charged silence between cheers. "The E-rank nobody who woke up one day with an A-rank badge. You expect me to believe that? No training, no scars, a name anyone's heard, and suddenly you're meant to stand with us?"
He lifted the blade, pointing its chipped edge toward Renji.
"Don't make me laugh. A dog dressed as a wolf is still a dog." Joon-young added
Renji's face didn't shift. No anger, no grin, not even the barest twitch of irritation. He simply rested his sword at his side, watching, waiting.
The lack of reaction drew a deeper scowl from Joon-young. His grip tightened on the hilt. He wanted fear. He wanted fire. He wanted something other than that calm, hollow stare.
So he dug deeper.
"Or maybe you've just been lucky," he pressed, circling slowly, his heavy boots grinding against the stone floor. "Lucky the Association shields you. Lucky your little rookies made it this far but luck runs out."
Still nothing. Renji blinked once, as though even the effort of acknowledging him was wasted breath.
And that was when Joon-young's grin sharpened. If Renji would not react to insult, then he would strike where the man bled.
"Your boy, Do-jin, was it?" he said, almost casually, like the name was a stone he could toss aside. "He stood there with that big shield, thinking he was ready. Brave, I'll give him that but brave doesn't mean anything when your skull is about to crack."
The crowd shifted uneasily at his words, the memory of that brutal match still raw. Joon-young leaned forward, great sword resting against his shoulder, his grin now crueler than ever
"If it weren't for the rules, for the referee dragging me off, he wouldn't be in your precious Association room right now. He'd already be six feet under."
The words struck like flint to dry tinder.
Renji's jaw tightened, the first visible change in his expression. His hand closed more firmly around the hilt of his sword and then, without warning, the air itself seemed to bend.
It wasn't a flare of magic, not a bright surge or a shout of power. It was colder. The kind of presence that made blood still in veins and instincts scream of death.
Renji's aura spilled outward in a single breath, vast and suffocating but it wasn't reckless it was focused, sharp as a blade, and every ounce of it locked onto Jung Joon-young.
The Behemoth fighter froze mid-grin. For one terrible instant, he wasn't standing in an arena. He wasn't surrounded by roaring crowds. He wasn't a celebrated warrior with a great sword in hand. He was prey, neck bared beneath a hunter's knife.
Joon-young's throat went dry. His knuckles whitened around the hilt of his sword. His body, trained to charge into the teeth of battle without hesitation, screamed at him to move and yet his feet stayed rooted, as if chains had wound themselves tight around his legs.
Renji's gaze was unblinking, his voice low and even.
"Mock me all you like," he said. "But you will not speak of them again."
And just as quickly, the weight vanished. Renji's aura drew back into himself like a tide retreating from shore, leaving only silence in its wake.
The crowd did not know what had just happened, not fully. They had felt something a chill, a strange pressure, a moment where the air had turned to stone. Murmurs swept through the stands, confusion mixing with awe.
The referee, swallowing hard, raised his hand.
"Quarterfinal match 1 begin!"
The horn blared. Joon-young shook his head, breaking the lingering fog, and roared as he hefted his greatsword high. But though the grin returned to his lips, something behind his eyes was unsettled.
For the first time since entering the tournament, Jung Joon-young had felt fear.