The marketplace was just starting to calm when chaos returned like an unwanted encore. A ring of adventurers—grizzled, loud, and very drunk—had formed around Dane, who stood at the center like a wolf among sheep.
Only this wolf had a chair.
Kael, perched atop a food cart, chewing on skewered meat, was laughing so hard he was wheezing. "Woooo! This is the best breakfast show I've ever watched. Get 'em, champ!"
One of the adventurers lunged at Dane.
"RKO OUTTA NOWHERE!" Dane shouted, leaping up and twisting mid-air before slamming the man into the cobblestones with legendary precision. The crowd gasped.
Another charged.
Dane ducked, spun, and yelled:
"STONE COLD STUNNER!"
He grabbed the man's neck and dropped, smashing his jaw against Dane's shoulder in a flawless stun. The man went limp and crumpled.
Kael screamed through a mouthful of meat, "YESSS! HIT HIM WITH THE PEOPLE'S ELBOW!"
Dane looked over, smirked, then dramatically tore off his cloak like it was a suit jacket in the ring. He bounced off two market stalls like ropes and then—
"FOR THE PEOPLE!"
—landed an exaggerated elbow drop onto a moaning adventurer who hadn't crawled away fast enough.
"OH, THE HUMANITY!" Kael howled.
Another pair tried to flank him.
Dane caught one mid-lunge and shouted:
"GERMAN SUPLEX!"
Wham! The man flipped back-first into a pile of pumpkins.
The other was bigger, burlier—and laughing. "You're gonna regret—"
Dane cut him off with a smirk and a running boot to the chin.
"SWEET. CHIN. MUSIC."
Crack! The boot caught him square on the jaw, and the man dropped like a sack of flour.
Kael pointed wildly, almost dropping his food. "HE'S UNSTOPPABLE! GIVE ME A POWERBOMB! I WANT A POWERBOMB!"
Dane winked and beckoned to the last two standing.
"Tag team special, boys."
They both rushed him at once.
Dane ducked, grabbed one, hoisted him up, and roared:
"BATISTA BOMB!"
BOOM! The poor soul hit the ground with a thunderous impact.
Before the last could run, Dane caught him in a brutal full nelson."Say hi to the Masterlock," Dane whispered.
The man flailed. Tapped. Screamed. Passed out.
Dane let him slump to the dirt.
"AND STAY DOWN!" Dane roared, arms spread wide like a gladiator in a bloodless arena.
Kael tossed his skewer stick into the air and caught it like a bouquet. "This man's not just an adventurer—he's the Wrestle-Wizard of Eldermoor! Give him a belt! Give him a theme song! Give him a goddamn entrance tunnel!"
A frazzled shopkeeper poked his head out from behind his stall. "You—you gonna pay for those stalls you bounced off?"
Dane, still panting and grinning, pulled a silver coin from his pocket and flipped it expertly into the man's hands. "Collateral damage tax. Keep the change."
Kael dropped down and slung an arm around his shoulder. "That. Was. ART."
Dane shook his head slowly, catching his breath. "No…"
He raised one fist to the sky, eyes narrowed with dramatic flair.
"That was…"
🎵 "I hear voices in my head… they counsel me… they understand… they talk to me…" 🎵
Kael's jaw dropped. "NO. NO WAY. IS THIS—?!"
Dane turned in a slow circle, his cloak fluttering, one hand to his temple like he was communing with the chaos itself.
🎵 "You got your rules and your religion,All designed to keep you safe…" 🎵
He stepped over a groaning adventurer like a fallen rival in the ring.
🎵 "But when rules start getting broken… you start questioning your faith…" 🎵
Kael backed up, holding his recording orb like a sacred relic. "He's doing Randy Orton! THIS IS A CHURCH SERVICE NOW. THIS IS HOLY."
Dane struck a pose on top of a smashed apple cart, arms out, chin lifted.
🎵 "I have a voice that is my savior,It's the love and the hate…" 🎵🎵 "I have a voice that has the knowledge, and the power to rule your fate!" 🎵
He pointed into the sky like he was calling down the god of RKO's himselves.
Kael was screaming at this point. "THIS ISN'T A MARKET FIGHT—THIS IS A LEGENDARY PAY-PER-VIEW. GIVE THIS MAN PYROTECHNICS!"
Then—
⏳ GUARDS INCOMING.
A trumpet blared.
Kael froze, eyes darting toward the alley where at least six armored guards thundered in, weapons drawn.
"Welp."
He dove behind the curry bun cart and peeked over the edge, holding up his orb just in time to capture the moment:
Dane, hands in the air, slowly lowering to his knees with deliberate showmanship, as if even his arrest was part of the act.
📱Group Chat: 🔥 JIGGLYPUFF'S HELL KITCHEN 🔥
🟢 Status: Active
👥 Members: Jax, Alex, Riley, Kael, Dane (recently unbanned)
Kael:
🎥 [Video Attached]
HE JUST SANG RANDY ORTON'S THEME—IN THE MIDDLE OF A MARKET DUEL. THIS ISN'T JUST A FIGHT. THIS IS WWE IN ELDERMOOR. THIS IS ARCANE ENTRANCE MUSIC AND WRESTLING THEATER. THIS MAN COMMITTED A WAR CRIME WITH A CLOAK FLIP. I'M SHAKING.
Riley:
🛏️ I wake up to this?? What kind of isekai gym arc did I miss?!
Alex:
🎥 Upload the footage. I want to make a training montage with WWE commentary.
Jax:
🔥 OKAY I'M COMING TO THAT TOWN. I WANT IN. I WANT THE CHAIR.
Dane:
🪑 Bring your own. Mine's bent. 😎
___________________________________________________
The heavy THUD-THUD-THUD of armored boots echoed across the cobblestones.
City Guards. Dozens of them.
Leading the pack was Captain Mirella, a short, broad-shouldered woman with a helmet under her arm, a face like stone, and eyes that screamed "I haven't had coffee and now this?"
She looked at Dane. She looked at the adventurers scattered like bowling pins. She looked at the splintered cart he'd used as ring ropes.
"…Seriously?"
Dane raised one hand in slow surrender. "Would you believe it was self-defense?"
"No."
"A noble duel?"
"No."
"An interpretive dance?"
"…arrest him."
SHINK.
Half a dozen spears were raised. Dane sighed and dropped to his knees dramatically like he was accepting an Oscar.
Behind the guards, Kael was still recording from a food cart with one hand, eating a rice ball with the other.
"AND THERE YOU HAVE IT, FOLKS! Our beloved muscle-head is being arrested live after a flawless Royal Rumble performance in downtown Eldermoor!"
He flicked a menu parchment open like a broadcast cue card.
"Today's stats: 9 adventurers KO'd. 2 stalls destroyed. 1 elbow drop from the heavens. And at least 5 new fans."
Kael dramatically added background music from a small enchanted speaker: "I Won't Do What You Tell Me" — the Stone Cold Steve Austin theme.
He posted the video in the group chat with the caption:
📱Group Chat: 🔥 JIGGLYPUFF'S HELL KITCHEN 🔥
Kael:
📹 BREAKING: Dane gets arrested like a champ after elbow-dropping a guy into kingdome come.
🎬 FULL VIDEO: [link]
#WrestleMoor #ThePeople'sElbow #JusticeSuplex
Riley:
😭😭😭 I'm dead. Why does he salute the guards before they cuff him?!?!
Alex:
SOMEONE AUTOTUNE THAT WHOLE VIDEO. I WANT IT AS MY RINGTONE.
Jax:
THEY ARRESTED HIM?? FOR WHAT? BEING AWESOME???🔥 I'm burning that jail down.
Kael:
Relax, it's a minor charge. Public entertainment without a license. I'll bail him out after lunch.
Dane:
🪑 Tell them to save my chair as evidence.
I want it framed.
Autographed.
Backlit.
Kael:
💬 BRO
.HOW ARE YOU TEXTING?!
YOU'RE LITERALLY BEING ARRESTED??
THE FACK!??! 🤯🚔📱
Dane:
😎📴 Skills, baby.
One hand suplexes, the other updates the squad.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The cell wasn't as grim as Dane expected. Dusty, sure. Damp, definitely. But surprisingly spacious—enough for a man to stretch, lie down, or, if inspired, practice his leg drops.
Dane was doing push-ups on two fingers when the iron bars rattled.
Outside stood Kael, chewing on a flaky curry bun and sipping some questionable lemonade out of a hollowed-out turnip.
"You got the buns?" Dane asked, not even looking up.
Kael chomped dramatically and talked with his mouth full. "Obviously. I wouldn't let my top billing star rot on an empty stomach."
Dane grunted, flipped into a handstand, then slowly lowered himself to the ground with perfect control. "They treating you well outside? Anyone cry at my arrest?"
Kael grinned. "Two kids asked for your autograph. One old lady threw rice at the guards and yelled, 'LET HIM FINISH THE MATCH!' And get this—your elbow drop? It's already got a fan name."
Dane raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Kael dramatically spread his arms. "The Fall of Eldermoor."
Dane exhaled a laugh. "Nice. Sounds apocalyptic."
"Exactly." Kael leaned against the cell bars. "So I've been thinking. This can't be a one-off. You saw the crowd. You heard the screams. The hype, the madness, the STUNNER. Brother, that wasn't a brawl—that was a spectacle. Eldermoor doesn't have a coliseum, a ring, or a fight guild that people enjoy. But we—"
He jabbed a finger toward the cell. "—we can change that."
Dane raised an eyebrow, dusting himself off. "You proposing I turn a bar brawl into a business?"
Kael's eyes gleamed with devilish glee. "No, no. I'm proposing we start a revolution. Eldermoor Championship Wrestling. ECW. We give the people what they didn't know they needed. Storylines. Drama. Hero entrances. Villain betrayal arcs. Tables. Ladders. Chairs."
At the mention of chairs, Dane's expression softened with reverence. "I miss mine already."
"We'll make you a throne of 'em, champ." Kael bit into his curry bun again. "Think about it. We book shows weekly. First one's called Market Mayhem. Second? The Brawl at Bellspire. Third? Thronebreaker: Clash of Kings. We sell snacks. Merch. Tiny enchanted replicas of your cloak."
"Merch?" Dane blinked.
"I already have a sketch of 'Dane the Devastator' stamped onto a flag." Kael pulled a parchment from his cloak and slapped it against the bars. It was crudely drawn but had potential. Dane stood tall, mid-RKO, with lightning bolts and flames behind him and "FOR THE PEOPLE" written across the bottom.
Dane studied it.
Then grinned.
"That's not bad."
Kael nearly choked on his bun. "Did you just say not bad? Brother, that's t-shirt approval level right there."
Dane leaned against the bars, voice lowering into his signature dramatic rumble. "Alright. ECW. I'm in. We make a roster, we scout talent, we find a venue."
"We already have a venue," Kael said smugly. "The old training hall outside the East Gate. No one uses it anymore since the mages built their fancy tower. Plenty of space. Wooden floors. High ceilings for rope flips. And I may have bribed a city clerk to 'misplace' the property deed."
Dane's eyes lit up. "What about gear?
Kael grinned like a fox who'd just raided the henhouse. "Oh, we go full theater, baby. Enchanted props. Ladders that shatter on cue. Tables with a built-in illusion spell so they explode in sparkles instead of splinters. Folding chairs reinforced for maximum smackdown, but glamoured to look cracked and dangerous. Safe, but loud."
Dane chuckled, pacing the cell now, already imagining it. "Riley can be our voice. He's got that crowd-control scream. Jax is good for hype promos. Alex handles music. You're management."
Kael gasped, hand on heart. "You mean it? You're making me General Manager?"
"You're already scamming the town and writing me catchphrases," Dane said, shaking his head. "You're practically Vince MacEldermoor."
Kael beamed. "Okay. Okay, okay—final question." He held up a quill and a parchment filled with half-baked slogans. "Do you approve of the name?"
Dane stepped forward, took the quill, and signed the top of the page with a flourish.
ECW. Eldermoor Championship Wrestling.
Then he smiled.
"Let's build a kingdom… of chaos."
Kael dropped the rest of his curry bun. "We're gonna be filthy rich."
From the far end of the dungeon, one of the guards muttered, "If I hear one more suplex in my hallway, I'm throwing them both into solitary."
Kael winked at the man. "Tell Captain Mirella I want front row seats when we hold our first Pay-Per-View event inside the prison courtyard. We'll call it… CELLBLOCK SLAM."
Dane cackled. "Get me out of here. I've got a match to book."