CHAPTER 15: TOURNAMENT PREPARATIONS
737 Words
“The pleasure is mine. You have proven to be a worthy opponent, and my father will get you what he has promised,” Bahr said with a smile as he walked away. He hoped never to meet that monster again.
The short man grumbled all the way back to his workshop, but Roshan was not paying much attention to him as several dings went off in his head. He had many rewards coming.
The man quickly handed him the gauntlet and shoved him out of the shop, warning him never to return.
Roshan did not mind. As long as he got what he came for, nothing else mattered.
Could this day get any better?
The moment that thought crossed his mind, his eyes caught a banner.
“Arkon’s Tournament to begin in two days.”
So it had been moved forward again.
He wondered what had happened.
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Somewhere in a large arena stood a boy with emerald eyes. He was currently facing three Level 14 training bots.
His eyes sparkled as he tightened his grip on his staff. The robots rushed at him at once.
A sword aimed for his waist. He blocked it with his staff while dodging a punch heading for his head. His staff then shot forward, striking the third bot that tried to pierce his stomach. All three jumped back.
He took a deep breath and readied himself.
This time, they attacked with full force. He blocked the fatal blows and narrowly dodged the minor ones, though a few scratches appeared on his skin.
The fight was tough, but this was part of his daily training. He had advanced to Level 14 just yesterday, and his father had decided this was necessary.
Now, he needed to switch from defense to offense.
He attacked the first robot without hesitation, swinging his staff directly at its head. The blow was blocked. Without backing down, he followed with a heavy roundhouse kick that sent the robot flying out of the arena.
With one opponent down, the remaining two increased their speed, aiming their attacks at vital points on the young boy’s body.
Using his staff, he blocked both strikes, though the force pushed him back slightly.
Seeing this, the bots pressed closer, attacking simultaneously.
A s***h.
A kick.
A punch.
His brows furrowed as he was forced back into a defensive position.
He dashed forward, escaping their encirclement, and calmed his racing heart.
In an instant, he closed the distance to one robot and swung his staff toward its hip. The bot raised its sword to block.
Everything seemed to slow down in those sparkling emerald eyes.
It was not that the robot was slow, but that the boy was simply too fast.
The moment he saw the sword move to intercept, he halted his strike and redirected it toward the neck. The robot failed to react in time.
Whack.
Its head flew off.
Without wasting time, he turned to the final opponent.
The robot thrust a palm strike toward his neck. He blocked it easily. Another attack followed toward his ribs within a fraction of a second, and he blocked that as well.
A kick came for his hips. He raised his own leg to counter, and a loud boom echoed through the arena.
The robot’s leg bent awkwardly out of place, yet it continued to fight.
The boy evaded every remaining move. With the robot already weakened, a simple thrust to the chest was enough to end the match.
The boy dressed in white walked out of the arena. There were no creases on his clothes, nothing out of place. Only a few small tears marked his sleeve, yet he remained completely unharmed.
His eyes shimmered with mystery and calm as he moved forward.
“What took you so long?” a deep voice asked.
“It was tough,” the boy replied, his gaze fixed on the floor.
“Indeed. You did not even use half of your full strength, yet it still took you that long. This means you have not been training well.”
“I am not satisfied. The tournament is in two days. Work harder.”
With that, the man turned and walked away.
The boy clenched his fists, his head still lowered.
“Even if I trained until my life was spent, you would never be satisfied,” he thought, anger burning quietly within him.
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- Writer
