Chapter 18: Unyielding Rage

  Marcus walked to the stands, his body still buzzing from his previous match. As he ascended the steps, he spotted his friends in the crowd.

  "Over here!" Vira called, waving him down.

  He made his way over to her, taking a seat beside her as they both looked down at the arena.

  "Nice work out there," she said, giving him a small smile. "You looked a little winded, though. Pacing yourself?"

  Marcus nodded, wiping his brow. "Yeah, I think I just needed to adjust to his size."

  Vira chuckled. "I can’t believe you pulled through that fight. You’re skilled for you level."

  But before Marcus could respond, the announcer's voice boomed over the arena, drowning out their conversation.

  "Arixa Langoreian!"

  The crowd erupted into cheers, and Marcus turned to see the athletic woman step into the ring. Her muscles rippled as she stood tall, eyes fierce and confident. Marcus couldn’t help but respect the power radiating from her—she was truly impressive.

  "Go Arixa!" Marcus cheered.

  But as Arixa’s opponent was introduced, Vira’s expression faltered. The smile that had been on her face vanished, replaced by a flash of tension in her shoulders.

  Marcus noticed immediately. "Everything okay?"

  Vira’s eyes flickered to Arixa in the ring, and then to Ralgar, the wolf Beastfolk opposite her. "It’s nothing," she muttered, her voice tight. "I just... don’t like how she fights."

  Marcus raised an eyebrow but decided not to press. Instead, he focused on the match as it began.

  The arena fell into a tense silence as the referee raised his hand.

  “BEGIN!”

  Without hesitation, Ralgar lunged at Arixa with blinding speed. He darted around her with a primal grace, his bladed claws ready to slash.

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  But Arixa was ready.

  Ralgar’s claws ripped across her forearm, cutting deep, but Arixa barely flinched. Her focus sharpened, her stance widening, as if she was becoming one with the arena itself.

  He came at her again, slashing and darting, never giving her a moment to breathe.

  Arixa’s eyes followed his movements with sharp, calculating precision, but her strikes missed. She swung a powerful arc with her Warhammer, only for Ralgar to slip past it—darting to her side, landing another series of slashes across her ribs.

  Blood stained her skin, but her expression didn’t shift.

  Ralgar’s smug grin stretched wider. "Is that all you got?" he taunted. "You’re not looking so tough now, Arixa."

  Arixa wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand, and smirked.

  "Not quite," she said, her voice cool and collected.

  And then, it happened.

  A surge of Ki flooded her body.

  [System Blessing: Unyielding Rage]

  Her muscles spiked with power as her wounds began to close from pressure—her body grew visably stronger with each blow Ralgar landed.

  Ralgar, clearly unaware of the change in her, attacked again, and again Arixa didn’t dodge. She allowed his claws to tear into her skin, feeling her Ki surge with every hit.

  And then—she moved.

  In a single fluid motion, Arixa grabbed Ralgar’s wrist with unrelenting strength, twisting his arm with a bone-crushing grip.

  Ralgar’s eyes widened in shock as she yanked him forward, using his momentum to twist his arm with sickening force. The CRACK of his shoulder breaking echoed through the arena.

  He howled in pain, stumbling back, his left arm hanging limp.

  Arixa didn’t give him a moment to recover.

  Her Ki-infused hammer grip shot forward and collided with his stomach. Ralgar flew backward, crashing into the stone floor in a heap.

  The crowd gasped.

  Ralgar tried to rise, but his body was failing him. Blood and sweat dripped from his face as he struggled to stay on his feet, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

  Arixa rolled her kneck, eyes gleaming.

  “You were fast,” she said with a cracked smile. “But I get stronger the more you hit me.”

  Ralgar’s ears flattened against his skull. Fear flickered in his eyes.

  Arixa didn’t hesitate. With thunderous steps, she charged.

  Ralgar tried to escape, but it was too late.

  The butt of Arixa’s hammer collided with his jaw in a devastating blow. Ralgar was lifted off the ground and sent sprawling across the stone floor, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

  The crowd erupted into cheers.

  “Winner—Arixa!” The announcer’s voice rang out, as the victorious Arixa raised her Warhammer high, her body still radiating the glow of her Unyielding Rage.

  She glanced toward the stands, locking eyes with Marcus, and gave him a wink.

  Marcus leaned back in his seat, feeling the weight of Arixa’s display of power. He hadn’t anticipated how intense her fighting style was, and seeing it up close gave him a new respect for her.

  He felt something stir within him—a need to push further, to test his own limits. Arixa’s fight was a perfect example of the kind of power he wanted to harness.

  Vira, who had been strangely quiet, now gripped the edge of the stand tightly, her gaze intense.

  “She’s incredible,” Vira whispered, her voice strained.

  Marcus turned to her. “You okay?”

  Vira only nodded, though there was something not quite right in her expression.