The Hawk Clan Arena stood under the open sky, the towering totem of feathers and bone casting a long shadow over the gathered crowd.
Today was no ordinary duel.
"This fight will decide the next Chief of the Hawk Clan."
The elder's voice echoed across the stone arena.
A wave of murmurs swept through the clan.
At the center stood Zhao Kuan, his expression fierce and ambitious. Three silver stars burned on his shoulder guard—a Three-Star Warrior, strong, experienced, and hungry for power.
Opposite him was Feng Lihan.
Four stars.
The youngest Four-Star Warrior the Hawk Clan had seen in decades.
When he spread his wings, the crowd fell into stunned silence.
Red.
Not the common gray or black of the Hawk Clan—but deep crimson wings, glowing like embers under the sun. A mark of rare bloodline and overwhelming dominance.
From the stands, Lin Yue's breath caught.
His hands trembled as he watched those wings unfold. Pride and fear twisted painfully in his chest.
This isn't just a fight… if Feng Lihan loses—
The elder raised his staff.
"Begin!"
Zhao Kuan moved first.
His wings snapped open, slicing the air as he launched forward. His fist glowed with gathered force, aiming straight for Feng Lihan's chest.
"So what if you're Four-Star?" Zhao Kuan roared. "The Chief seat is mine!"
Their fists collided.
The shockwave exploded outward, cracking the arena floor. Clan members staggered back, eyes wide.
Feng Lihan didn't move an inch.
Zhao Kuan's arm shook violently.
Before Zhao Kuan could retreat, Feng Lihan struck—fast, ruthless. His red wings flared, boosting his speed as his elbow smashed into Zhao Kuan's jaw, followed by a brutal kick that sent him crashing across the stone.
Gasps echoed.
Zhao Kuan spat blood, rage twisting his face. He roared and forced more power out of his body, three stars blazing as he charged again, attacks wild and relentless.
For a moment, Feng Lihan was forced back.
A blow slipped through, cutting across his shoulder.
"Feng Lihan!" Lin Yue cried, rising to his feet, eyes shining with fear.
Blood stained the red feathers—but Feng Lihan's gaze remained calm.
Cold.
"This is the difference," he said quietly, lifting his head. "Between ambition… and strength."
His aura exploded.
The pressure crushed down on the arena like a mountain. Even the elders stiffened. Feng Lihan's red wings spread fully, feathers sharp as blades, burning with power that completely overwhelmed Zhao Kuan.
In one instant, Feng Lihan vanished.
In the next, Zhao Kuan was slammed face-down into the ground.
Feng Lihan's foot pressed against his back, pinning him effortlessly.
Cracks webbed through the stone.
"Chief seat?" Feng Lihan said, voice echoing through the arena. "You're not worthy."
Zhao Kuan struggled once—then went still.
The elder struck his staff down hard.
"The victor—Feng Lihan, Four-Star Warrior of the Hawk Clan."
Silence.
Then thunderous cheers.
Lin Yue ran to him without caring who saw. His hands shook as he touched Feng Lihan's arm, eyes red.
"You scared me," Lin Yue whispered.
Feng Lihan folded his red wings around him slightly, lowering his voice.
"I told you," he said softly. "No one takes what's mine."
Under the sky of the Hawk Clan, everyone saw it clearly—
The future Chief had already been decided