CHAPTER 177: THE QUARTERFINALS OPENING FIGHT

Kai left the inn early before heading to the coliseum. The stalls hadn’t been set up after being packed down the night before.

He wandered inside and turned down several hallways to where the last fighters would be gathering.

The waiting room was cold with tension, despite the thick stone walls and torch-lit sconces. Kai sat with his fingers laced, elbows on his knees. He hadn’t slept, not even a moment of rest. His thoughts had churned all night, Tarnil’s superheated strikes, Redford’s whirlwind blades, Grim’s monstrous mana. All possibilities. All threats.

He felt it in his bones. Today would be brutal.

Vepice had curled up beside him the night before, murmuring her worries, her disappointment that he wouldn’t sleep. But the day’s excitement had eventually knocked her out, and she drifted into peaceful dreams before Kai had even shifted from his place.

Now, in the quiet hum of the waiting room, only the top eight contestants remained. When Grim entered, silent and unreadable as always, Kai couldn’t help but study him again. There was no arrogance in the boy’s stride. No tension. Just a calm, subtle command of self.

Their eyes met.

Grim looked, then looked away.

No challenge. No curiosity.

’Tch... I’m not worth your time either, huh?’ Kai thought, though he didn’t let it get under his skin. He’d faced worse.

The attendant stepped in, scroll in hand.

"Quarterfinals line-up," they said, handing out the list.

Kai’s eyes slid down the names. As soon as he reached the first two, he sighed.

---

Alex vs Tarnil

Grim vs Cyrus

Redford vs Karl

Quinn vs Rurik

---

His name was first again.

Of course.

’They want me to open strong and keep the crowds invested. A newcomer going far always boosts profits. Wonder if I could bet on myself...’ he mused. Probably too late. Not like he could waltz into a bookie booth now.

Cyrus vs Grim will also be a great match. Surely his speed could do something to him. That amount of mana won’t be dangerous to anyone.

The attendant clapped once. "Alright, Alex, Tarnil. Out to the arena. The crowd’s fired up and expecting fireworks. Give them something worth cheering for!"

"I win how I want to win," Tarnil muttered as he stood, stretching his arms above his head.

"I’m the same," Kai said, pushing to his feet.

They parted, each taking a separate hallway that led out to the arena floor.

Kai walked slowly, measuring each step. Breathing deep. Tarnil’s heat was a problem.

No, not heat itself, but the way it melted everything.

His very aura distorted the air, superheated his surroundings until metal warped and stone cracked. Kai didn’t need to be reminded that Tarnil hadn’t even needed to touch his opponent last time to win by default.

As he walked, he focused his thoughts.

’I can’t let him touch me. But if I coat myself in frost, maybe it’ll buy me a moment. Slow the transfer of heat. Layer of defense before my flesh gets cooked.’

He cast a spell, and his skin began to shimmer faintly, like dew-iced grass in winter. It wasn’t enough to cause him damage or freeze movement, but it would force a heat exchange on contact. A tiny buffer. A fraction of a second.

It might be the difference between victory and being reduced to ash.

He clenched his fists, flexing the stiff cold in his muscles.

He summoned the most interesting weapon and shield from his shadow space. Spoils he gained from the thieves’ guild.

’These repel heat and light. Will they survive an attack from Tarnil?’

The sound of the announcer’s magically-projected voice echoed from above as he stepped through the gate and into the arena’s morning sun.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE MATCH YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR! The descendant of Angelica Trunsdale returns once again, our newest crowd favourite, the dark horse of the tournament, ALEX TRUNSDAAALE!"

The crowd roared.

’That’s my cue.’

Kai exhaled slowly and stepped onto the center tiles, frost still coating his entire body.

Opposite him, the temperature visibly shifted as Tarnil emerged. The air warped around him like the surface of a desert mirage. The sweat on the arena workers nearest him steamed off before they could retreat. He didn’t raise his arms or acknowledge the crowd.

"And in this corner," the announcer continued with audible glee, "The man whose very presence can melt steel. The burning prodigy of the Ember Path. The walking furnace himself—TARNIL THE RED!"

The stands exploded again. There were audible gasps as Tarnil reached the center of the ring. The crowd could see the heat distortion, some of them leaned back, shielding their faces as if they feared they might be scorched.

Kai eyed the stone beneath Tarnil’s feet. It was already darkening. Cracks began to form.

’If this guy lays a hand on me, I’m charcoal.’

"FIIIIIGHT!" the announcer roared, his voice booming across the arena.

Kai didn’t hesitate. He meant to move first.

But Tarnil moved before him.

The moment the word echoed out, the concrete beneath Tarnil’s feet hissed and blackened, bubbling like magma under pressure.

Then he was gone.

Kai barely had time to register the motion. Tarnil shot across the arena like a red-hot arrow, the soles of his boots melting their prints into the stone as he ran. Not as fast as Cyrus. Not as fast as Redford. But the oppressive heat and distorted air made it feel like he was being chased by a collapsing sun.

Kai dove, twisting out of the way.

The whoosh of Tarnil’s swipe grazed his ribs, not a disciplined strike, but a wild, clawing lunge, like a predator trying to end the fight in a single movement.

Kai hit the ground in a roll and rose to one knee. Sweat clung to him despite his icy coating. He kept his breathing steady, eyes sharp. He heard the faintest click of the tongue from Tarnil’s side.

’He’s not underestimating me...’

That single realization made Kai’s pulse thrum louder. This wasn’t some arrogant showman to bait and punish. Tarnil was serious. Calculated. Focused.

’Good. I’d rather it be this way.’

Tarnil approached again, slower now, with the heat pulsing with each movement. The ground sizzled with each footfall. He wasn’t charging. He was hunting.

Kai surged forward and jumped, spinning into what looked like a high, reckless kick aimed at Tarnil’s face.

Everyone knew this move from his fight with Durg. Kai was counting on it.

Tarnil raised his arm instinctively, blocking with the outer edge of his forearm, and that’s when Kai struck.

With a burst of wind magic, Kai reversed his momentum mid-air and propelled himself backward, twisting his hips and driving his kite shield down into Tarnil’s exposed left hip.

There was a thud as the shield connected.

Kai blinked.

The shield didn’t melt.

Not even a little.

Instead, Tarnil was knocked back two steps.

Kai grinned, eyes glowing with an imperceivable green light as he activated Mana Sight fully again.

’There it is...’

Tarnil’s body was a storm of ever-shifting mana. Every few seconds, the flow of heat altered, rotating between his limbs. From right arm to left. From thigh to opposite thigh. From torso to back. A looping sequence.

Left hip to right hip. Right arm to left.

Even the heat around his head moved in a circular motion.

Constant transitions.

’Preventing overheating... or maybe controlling where the superheating happens to avoid cooking himself alive. He’s regulating his body temperature. Without that, what would happen?’

Tarnil’s expression was flat, but his stance changed. He took a step back, rotating his shoulders.

"You’re watching me," he said quietly.

Kai didn’t respond.

Tarnil threw one strike after another, But Kai avoided them. Each time the frost covering his body melted, he reapplied it.

He dodged, weaved, and made sure not a single strike would touch him, even though the ground around them was becoming less stable and looked like a volcano had rained down lava upon them.

Kai stepped in again, feinting low, then swerving left with a shadow-backed lunge. This time he didn’t strike, he watched.

Not just the mana, but the rhythm.

He counted it.

Measured it.

Four steps, then the switch. Two attacks, then the arm cools.

’It’s all mapped out.’

"Your heat won’t touch me unless you’re willing to burn yourself," Kai said.

Tarnil’s brow twitched. "Then I will."

And with that, the temperature spiked again, this time not in pulses, but in a surge.

Steam poured from the tiles around them.

’Oh shit...’

Kai’s shield began to hiss.

’He’s breaking his own limitations.’

Tarnil’s self-regulation was gone.

He was going all in.

The next moment was a blur as Tarnil raised his hand, and flames gathered, dense, white-hot, unnatural flames spiraling around his arm. Then they compressed until merging with his body.

And Kai knew it.

He only had seconds.

Every single one of them needed to count, or there might not be anything left to return to Vepice afterwards.