CHAPTER 13: TITAN'S FIST
1068 Words
Klein stood in front of the Titan's Fist Guild Hall, taking in the sight.
Unlike the Garrison Whites' pristine white building, this place looked rough around the edges.
The structure was made of dark stone, with cracks running along the walls and scorch marks decorating the entrance.
A massive stone fist jutted out above the doorway, flames carved into its knuckles.
"Fits Boomer's personality," Klein muttered, walking toward the entrance.
The doors swung open before he could knock, revealing a muscular woman with short red hair and a scar across her nose. She wore simple combat gear and had her arms crossed, looking him up and down with sharp green eyes.
"You're Klein?" she asked bluntly.
"Yeah."
"Good. Follow me." She turned and walked inside without waiting for his response.
Klein followed her through the dimly lit hallway. The walls were covered with battle trophies…monster skulls, broken weapons, and framed photos of guild members standing over defeated beasts.
The place felt more like a warrior's den than a professional guild hall.
They entered a large open room where dozens of people were training.
Some sparred with weapons, others practiced their system abilities, sending bursts of energy flying across the room. No one stopped to look at Klein. They were too focused on their own fights.
"This is the training hall," the woman said, stopping near the center. "Everyone here fights their own battles. No one holds your hand."
Klein nodded, impressed by the intensity. "Where's Boomer?"
"Recovering. Your attack did more damage than he expected." She smirked. "But he'll be here soon. I'm Raze, by the way. Vice Captain of Titan's Fist."
"Nice to meet you."
Raze studied him for a moment, then gestured toward an empty corner. "You can wait there. Or you can join the sparring. Your choice."
Klein glanced at the fighters around him. Most were mid-level System Bearers, their auras flickering as they traded blows. It looked chaotic, but there was structure beneath it. Everyone knew what they were doing.
"I'll wait," Klein said.
Raze shrugged. "Suit yourself."
She walked off, leaving Klein alone in the corner.
He leaned against the wall, watching the fights unfold. The energy in the room was different from what he'd felt at the Garrison Whites.
There was no arrogance here, no sense of superiority. Just pure dedication to getting stronger.
"Maybe this place isn't so bad," Klein thought.
A loud crash echoed through the hall as two fighters collided, their weapons sending sparks flying.
The crowd around them cheered, shouting encouragement and insults in equal measure. Klein couldn't help but smile. It reminded him of Storm's realm...raw, unfiltered power.
Minutes passed, and Klein's thoughts drifted to his own growth. He'd defeated Vax and Boomer, but both fights had shown him his limits.
Vax's Durendal had pierced his defenses, and Boomer's raw strength had forced him to use his full transformation. If he wanted to survive what was coming, he needed to push harder.
"Klein S'roar!"
The booming voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Boomer entered the hall, his burns mostly healed but still visible on his arms. He wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off his massive muscles, and that same wild grin spread across his face.
"You came!" Boomer walked over, his footsteps heavy enough to shake the floor. "I knew you would."
"I'm just here to listen," Klein said, crossing his arms. "Don't get your hopes up."
Boomer laughed, clapping Klein on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. "That's fine! Come on, let's talk in my office."
He led Klein through another hallway, this one lined with more trophies and photos.
They passed a few guild members who nodded at Boomer with respect but didn't stop to chat. Eventually, they reached a large wooden door.
Boomer pushed it open, revealing a surprisingly organized office. A desk sat in the center, covered with maps and reports. Weapons hung on the walls, and a massive window overlooked the training hall below.
"Sit," Boomer said, gesturing to a chair.
Klein sat down, and Boomer took the seat across from him, leaning back with his hands behind his head.
"So," Boomer started, his tone more serious now. "Let me tell you what Titan's Fist is really about."
Klein listened.
"Most guilds focus on politics, money, or status," Boomer continued.
"They care about rankings, contracts, and looking good for the cameras. That's not us. We care about one thing...strength. Pure, unfiltered strength."
"And you think I fit that?" Klein asked.
"I know you do." Boomer leaned forward, his grin fading into something more intense.
"You've got power, Klein. Real power. But you're still figuring out how to use it. That's why you need us. We'll push you, test you, break you down and build you back up stronger."
Klein frowned. "I don't need anyone to push me."
"Maybe not," Boomer admitted.
"But ask yourself this...how much stronger can you get on your own? You've fought a few System Bearers, sure. But what happens when you face someone ranked in the top five? Or the top three? You think you're ready for that?"
Klein didn't answer. Boomer had a point.
"We've got members who've trained with legends," Boomer continued.
"People who've survived S-rank Dungeon Gates and lived to tell the tale. Join us, and you'll have access to that knowledge. You'll have sparring partners who won't hold back. You'll have a team that's just as hungry as you are."
Klein leaned back in his chair, processing Boomer's words. It was tempting. He couldn't deny that. But joining a guild meant commitment, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that.
"What's the catch?" Klein asked.
Boomer grinned.
"No catch. You join, you train, you fight. That's it. No orders, no missions you don't want to take. You're free to do whatever you want, as long as you show up when the guild needs you."
"And when does the guild need me?"
"When something big comes up. A high-rank Dungeon Gate, a threat to the city, stuff like that. But those don't happen often."
Boomer shrugged. "Most of the time, you'll just be training and getting stronger."
Klein thought about it. It sounded too good to be true, but Boomer didn't strike him as the lying type. He was blunt, direct, and honest to a fault.
"I'll think about it," Klein said finally.
Boomer's grin widened. "That's all I ask."
- Writer
