Blood Online: Evolving Endlessly-Chapter 169: Paying With Blood

The hundred newcomers had fared worse. Perhaps thirty remained, their platforms painted red with the blood of those who’d died in their first taste of Jeren’s tournament.

The arena fell into an exhausted silence broken only by heavy breathing, groans of pain, and the occasional sob from someone realizing they’d actually survived.

Then Jeren’s voice rang out, cheerful and energetic as ever:

"Magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!"

He appeared on his elevated platform, applauding with genuine enthusiasm. "What battles! What determination! What spectacular displays of skill and will! The gods are absolutely delighted!"

He looked down at the survivors—the broken, bleeding, exhausted fighters who’d given everything just to live—and his smile was visible even behind his mask.

"You’ve all earned your rest now. Three rounds complete! Well, for those of you who survived, of course." He gestured casually at the bodies being dragged away. "The others, well... they tried their best, didn’t they?"

His tone suggested he was discussing a sporting event rather than mass slaughter.

"But don’t worry," Jeren continued, "you’ll have a full hour to recover this time! Eat, drink, tend your wounds. The gods are generous in victory, after all."

He paused, then added with that same cheerful tone: "Of course, this is only the beginning. We still have so many more rounds to go! So many more opportunities for you to shine! Isn’t that exciting?"

---

In the settlement, on a rooftop where Akhil’s group had gathered to watch the screens, Aria felt something hot and violent rise in her chest.

"That absolute *bastard*," she hissed, her hands clenching into fists. "That smug, fan-waving, mask-wearing piece of *shit*. ’Isn’t that exciting?’ I’ll show him exciting. I’ll shove that fan so far up his—"

"Aria," Akhil said mildly, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice despite the grim situation. "The children."

"There are no children here!" Aria shot back. "And even if there were, they’d agree with me! That pompous, over-dressed, peacock-looking *asshole* is sitting up there making jokes while people are dying! ’They tried their best’? I’ll try my best to—"

She continued her increasingly creative string of profanity, describing in vivid detail what she’d like to do to Jeren, his fan, his mask, and several of his internal organs. Under different circumstances, it might have been funny—Aria’s usually composed demeanor completely abandoned in favor of inventive cursing.

But the humor died quickly when Akhil didn’t respond to her latest suggestion involving Jeren’s fan and an anatomically improbable location.

She turned to look at him. "Akhil? Are you even—"

White light suddenly engulfed him.

Aria’s words caught in her throat. Her eyes went wide as the divine radiance wrapped around Akhil like a cocoon, blinding and absolute.

"No," she whispered. "Not yet. We’re not ready. He’s not—"

Akhil disappeared.

One moment he was standing beside her, the Blood Fang gripped in his hand. The next, empty air where he’d been, the faint scent of ozone the only evidence he’d existed there at all.

"AKHIL!" Aria’s scream tore through the stunned silence that had fallen over their group. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

She spun toward the nearest screen, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might break through her ribs. The broadcast showed the arena, the exhausted survivors, the newcomers still reeling from their first battles.

And there—appearing in one of the individual platforms with that same white light—was Akhil.

Aria felt panic surge through her, cold and overwhelming. Her friend. Her leader. The person who’d kept them alive through impossible odds, who’d planned and prepared and tried so hard to give them all a chance—

He was there now. In the arena. About to face opponents calibrated specifically to push him to his limits.

Her mouth opened to say something—what, she didn’t know. A prayer maybe, or another curse, or just his name screamed into the uncaring void.

But then she saw his face.

Akhil stood on that platform, the Blood Fang held loosely in one hand, and his expression made the words die in her throat.

It wasn’t fear she saw there. Wasn’t panic or shock or the desperate confusion she’d seen on so many fighters’ faces when they’d first been teleported.

It was focus. Absolute, dangerous, terrifying focus.

His eyes swept across the arena with the calculating precision of a predator assessing prey. No wasted movement. No visible emotion. Just cold analysis of his surroundings, his situation, his options.

The Blood Fang shifted in his grip, moving into a ready position with practiced ease. His posture relaxed into something combat-ready without being tense. Every line of his body spoke of someone who’d been preparing for exactly this moment.

And his face—that face that had smiled and joked and tried to keep everyone’s spirits up through the nightmare of preparation—

That face was the expression of someone who’d stopped holding back.

Aria felt the panic drain away, replaced by something else. Something colder. Something that made her shiver despite the warm evening air.

She wasn’t afraid for Akhil anymore.

She was afraid of what he was about to do.

Around her, the rest of the group had fallen silent, all eyes fixed on the screen. Nyla’s hand had moved unconsciously to her new dual blades. Ryan—watching his friend appear in the same arena where he’d just barely survived—had gone perfectly still.

They all saw it. All recognized what they were looking at.

This wasn’t the Akhil who’d led planning sessions and organized hunts and tried to keep everyone safe through careful strategy.

This was the Akhil who’d fought Titans. Who’d survived the Blood Monarch wearing his own body. Who’d killed a Level 40 River Serpent by letting it swallow him and tearing it apart from the inside.

This was the fighter who’d been preparing for three days, gathering power, forging legendary weapons, pushing himself to be ready for exactly this moment.

On screen, Jeren’s voice rang out cheerfully:

"Oh! A new arrival! And such an interesting one too. The gods have been quite curious about you, young fighter. Let’s see if you live up to their expectations, shall we?"

Akhil didn’t react to the words. Didn’t acknowledge Jeren’s presence at all. His eyes remained fixed forward, waiting, ready.

The shadows began gathering at the edge of his platform.

And Aria, watching from the settlement with the rest of their group, felt a chill run down her spine.

Not from fear of what Akhil would face.

But from certainty of what was coming for whatever had the misfortune of facing him.

The tournament had called the wrong fighter.

And it was about to learn that lesson in blood.