Night had already fallen so deeply that the world above lay asleep—but in the underground arena, the night was only just beginning.
The commentator's voice booming through the underground dome.
"And with this—KAEL, THE DEVOURER—has become the strongest challenger of the Nightshadow Underground Tournament!"
The arena erupted.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" the commentator shouted with raw excitement. "TODAY, ANOTHER GIANT HAS BEEN BORN! A MAN WHO WILL NOW STAND FACE TO FACE WITH THE STRONGEST EXISTENCE OF THIS ARENA—DEREK, THE KING KONG!"
The floodlights shifted.
A powerful beam crashed down onto the center of the arena.
There, standing on the hard-packed mud floor, was a bloodied young man.
Blood dripped steadily from Kael's hands and streaked down his face, falling into the dark, compacted earth beneath his feet.
Cuts lined his arms and torso, bruises layered over one another, and swollen patches distorted his battered body. His chest rose and fell as he panted heavily—but his eyes remained clear.
Sharp.
Unyielding.
Kael lifted his head, gaze locked forward, already staring toward his next opponent.
Behind him lay his former enemy.
Half-sunken into the mud, the body was twisted beyond recognition. Bones broken. Flesh torn. Breath completely gone.
This was not a sports arena.
This was a brutal underground arena.
The audience watching from above were not ordinary people. They were the big shots of the planet—those who had tasted every luxury life could offer, until even joy and sports were no longer enough. Their entertainment had become extreme.
To them, people like Kael and the others were merely playthings. Lives thrown into the pit by those who lived in power and wealth, just to watch them bleed.
This place was no different from the gladiator arenas of old, where warriors fought to the death for the pleasure of others.
But now was not the time to grieve.
Because the commentator's voice rang out once more.
"NOW, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" he roared. "WE FINALLY HAVE OUR TWO CONTESTANTS IN THE ARENA!"
The lights snapped to the left side.
"ON THE LEFT—DEREK! THE KING KONG!" the commentator thundered. "THE CURRENT, REIGNING CHAMPION OF THE NIGHTSHADOW UNDERGROUND ARENA!"
A massive figure stepped forward, each footstep pressing into the hardened mud as the crowd went wild.
The spotlight shifted back to the center.
"AND IN THE MIDDLE—KAEL! THE DEVOURER!" the commentator continued without pause. "A MAN WHO HAS JUST FINISHED HIS TENTH CONSECUTIVE FIGHT—AND WON ALL OF THEM!"
The noise intensified.
"EVEN THOUGH HE LOOKS OUT OF SHAPE RIGHT NOW, DON'T YOU DARE UNDERESTIMATE HIM!" the commentator shouted. "THIS MAN FOUGHT TEN WARRIORS BACK TO BACK—NO REST, NO MERCY—and STILL STOOD AT THE TOP, EARNING HIS CHANCE TO CHALLENGE THE CHAMPION!"
The tension in the arena became suffocating.
"IT HAS BEEN FIVE LONG YEARS!" the commentator declared. "FIVE YEARS BEFORE SOMEONE FINALLY REACHED THIS STAGE AGAIN!"
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN—THIS WILL BE THE MOST LEGENDARY FIGHT OF THE LAST FIVE YEARS!"
A heartbeat of silence followed.
Then—
"NOW—THE MATCH BETWEEN DEREK AND KAEL… BEGINS!"
As the final announcement of the match fell, a thunderous roar burst from the left gate of the arena.
"Aaaaahhhhhhh—!"
It was less a shout and more the cry of a beast.
Derek charged out.
Without hesitation, without restraint, he sprinted straight toward Kael. There was no form to his movement, no technique or rhythm—only raw, violent power. Each step slammed into the blood-soaked mud, sending clumps flying in every direction.
Broken teeth, fragments of bone, and debris left behind by dead contestants littered the ground. Derek crushed them underfoot as if they didn't exist, his steps heavy and merciless, as though his feet were made of iron.
In a blink of an eye, he closed the distance.
When he was only a few steps away, Derek suddenly leapt.
His massive body rose unnaturally high, and he twisted midair, launching a brutal flying kick straight at Kael.
The opening was huge.
Kael shifted to the side, easily dodging the kick as it tore through the space where his head had been a moment earlier.
But Derek wasn't done.
Like a wildman, he snarled midair and threw a punch at the same time. His arm swung with terrifying reach, his massive fist sweeping toward Kael's new position.
Kael had already seen it coming.
He ducked low, the punch slicing over his head, and slid sideways in one smooth motion, slipping cleanly out of Derek's attack range. The instant Kael created distance, he retreated another step.
His breathing was still strained.
He had been fighting nonstop for over three hours.
Each opponent he faced before this was a numbered champion of the arena—ranked from second to eleventh. None of them were weak. None of them had gone down easily.
And now, standing before him, was the champion.
Derek's body was built more like an ogre than a human. His massive frame was layered with muscle, his defense absurdly solid, his presence alone oppressive.
Against such overwhelming raw power, technique meant little.
Kael knew it clearly.
If he wanted to win, he couldn't afford to take a single clean hit.
He had to exhaust him.
He had to drag this monster down through time and precision.
Kael took a slow, controlled breath, forcing his racing heart to steady, calming his mind as he fixed his gaze on Derek.
The giant had already recovered from his failed attack.
Derek straightened, cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders, a savage grin spreading across his face.
The fight had truly begun.
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