Chapter 21: Second wind

  Marcus was rested and brimming with excitement for his next match.

  Once the announcer called his name, he joked with Vira, “Kiss me for good luck.” She blushed and pushed him toward the arena.

  He stepped onto the battlefield, only to be met with a fierce grin. Arixa stood there, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. Her muscular frame tensed with anticipation, and in her hands, she gripped a massive war hammer. The weapon’s head was nearly as wide as Marcus’s torso. “Glad you made it,” she said, cracking her knuckles. “I’ve been looking forward to a fight with you, handsome.” Marcus smirked. “You’re not going to hold back, are you?” “Hells no.”

  Marcus joked to himself. She may have inherited the human halves of her parents, but she definitely had a Minotaur’s temper.

  The referee raised his hand. “Begin!”

  The crowd fell silent as Marcus and Arixa circled each other. Arixa’s breathing was controlled, but there was a wildness in her stance. Her muscles bulged with barely restrained power, and her Ki surged, threatening to explode. Her hammer hung loosely in her grip, ready to strike. Marcus exhaled slowly, focusing. He could already feel the strain from his first fight, but there was no time for weakness. He had to be ready. Arixa launched forward, a blur of motion, her hammer crashing toward him.

  The Fight: A Struggle Against Unyielding Rage Marcus dodged the first few strikes, his footwork light and quick, just barely staying out of reach. Arixa’s hammer whipped through the air with terrifying force. But with each time Marcus struck her, she grew faster, stronger. Her blessing was terrifying.

  Arixa's first hit landed—a solid hammer blow to his ribs. Pain exploded through Marcus’s torso. He gritted his teeth and retaliated with a sharp counter, a Psycha-enhanced jab to her shoulder. Arixa barely flinched. She grinned. And then she swung the hammer again.

  Knocking him back,

  Each impact fed her power. Her Ki surged. Her strikes became heavier, sharper. Marcus could barely keep up.

  Marcus did everything he could to withstand the massive blows, he had tried infusing his Ki into his forearms, but it meant nothing under the weight and power of her blows.

  He could feel his bones cracking...

  His stamina drained rapidly...

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  His breath came short, ragged...

  He was losing...

  Her hammer struck him again and again, each blow sending shockwaves through his body. He staggered under the onslaught, the sound of the hammer crashing against his body almost deafening. He was moments from collapsing

  In an attempt to stop the onslaught Marcus infused a fist with as much Ki as he could muster, he attempted to punch back the hammer as it came at him...

  But in a display of pure weapon mastery, Arixa flipped the massive hammer, causing Marcus to miss his punch and faulter. In a one fluid motion Arixa spun with the hammer, landing a massive blow to the back of Marcus's head. "Damn good move-!" Was the last thought he had before the familiar feeling of falling toward the canvas overtook him. Dazed and starry eyed, the situation at hand came crashing back to reality.

  His thoughts were foggy, but he knew...There would be no ten-count... He had to recover immediately...or the fight would be called.

  While he descended, Marcus flooded his mind with Psycha, supercharging his thoughts. The familiar feeling of time slowing overtook him...he just needed time to think. In his old life, a ten-count would have given him that time. But in this world, he would have to improvise.

  —clarity!

  A memory surfaced. Decades ago, in his old life. His first coach, a grizzled boxing veteran, stood over him after a brutal sparring session, his voice low but unwavering. “Kid…what's wrong? What are you so mad at?...The coach paused, meeting his eyes. “Ya got knocked down kid, get up...That’s the easiest part. What!? You think that rage in your eyes is gonna do something to me. "Your rage and anger won't help you here. “You don’t win by being the fastest, the strongest, or the angriest. You win by finding your center, controlling your emotions, and actions. When everything’s crashing down around you—when the pressure’s suffocating and your lungs are screaming for air—you’ve gotta let it all go. “Don’t tighten up. Don’t hold your breath. Don’t get mad, just get up. Let all them emotions wash over you. “Now get up. And find your second wind"

  The system notification rang out in his head, pulling him back from his old world and into his body.

  NEW Skill aquired

  "Second Wind"!

  Inches from hitting the ground, Marcus stomped hard on the arena floor, using the force to push himself upright. He inhaled deeply, and what felt like life itself surged into his lungs. His body adjusted. The exhaustion, the burning in his lungs—vanished. His mind cleared. His heart slowed. His body felt weightless. Arixa came in for the finishing blow, her hammer raised high above her head, ready to crush him. Marcus slipped past her strike effortlessly, dodging with newfound speed. His turn.

  With renewed energy, Marcus exploited her openings. A Psycha-infused feint forced Arixa to react—she overextended, her movement leaving her vulnerable. Marcus took advantage of the opening, landing a Ki-powered counterstrike that sent her stumbling. He dodged the next flurry of attacks with graceful precision, his movements a blur. The crowd roared in approval.

  Arixa wasn’t slowing down, but Marcus was now in control. Her blessing was still active, but her power was starting to falter under the weight of her unchecked Ki. Marcus kept pushing, landing strike after strike, the speed and force of his blows overwhelming her. Marcus pummeled her relentlessly with a barrage of rapid punches, But just as she looked like she might crumble, her Ki surgered to such an overwhelming extent that it's red aura could be seen by the naked eye.

  A moment later, a gut-wrenching cry filled the arena.

  “I yield!” Arixa’s voice was strained, her breath ragged.

  Marcus stepped back, panicked as he gazed upon the sight before him.

  Arixa sat there, on her knees, her head down, she was a crumpled mess. Her body was battered, bruised, and bleeding. Her hammer now lay beside her.

  Her blessing had turned into a curse at the fists of Marcus. The endless surge of Ki she had relied on had overtaxed her muscles, leaving her paralyzed. Every muscle in her body had been torn asunder, her busted body a testament to the strain of KI overuse.

  As the healers rushed into the arena, Arixa smiled weakly at Marcus.

  “That... was so hot…” she said as she fell over...

  The referee raised his hand. “Winner—Marcus!”

  Marcus whispered under his breath, “Thanks, coach.”