thief of fate-Chapter 68: First stage

In a large arena located on the outskirts of the academy, the participants were gathering in preparation for the first stage of the tournament. The scene was filled with tension and anticipation. In the various corners of the arena, stood fighters wearing light armor, some of them carrying heavy weapons, and others wielding lighter, swifter arms. The air was thick with excitement and anticipation, and hearts were leaping in their chests.

Valerian stood with the rest of the competitors on the side of the arena. He looked around, felt the weight of the atmosphere, but his attempts to hide his anxiety were futile. He knew this competition wouldn’t be easy. Even if he wasn’t the weakest, he knew there were those stronger but that didn’t stop him. He was focused on what lay ahead, on the steps he would take from now on. He had no choice but to succeed.

The two great pillars in the arena roared with the sound of spectators. The arena was surrounded by many onlookers, whose souls were drawn toward the event. There was the noise of clapping, cheering, as well as whispers among the crowd about the fighters they expected to win this tournament.

While everyone looked toward the registration points, a group of judges entered, wearing black coats. One of them, the chief judge, carried a prestigious silver shield that gleamed in the sunlight. They walked to the center, where everyone awaited the signal to begin the test.

"Competitors!" the chief judge announced loudly. "You have come here to prove your strength, and today you stand at the first stage of this test. You will fight five opponents, and your goal is to win each battle to obtain the cards you hold. Those cards are the key to entering the second stage. Do not underestimate the strength of those before you."

Everyone’s hearts began to beat faster, each of them looked at the registration card in their hand. Valerian stared at his card with focus, but he didn’t feel fear. On the contrary, he was trying to prove something to himself.

Then the next voice came, piercing through the tension: "The first stage begins now!"

The group rushed into the arena where a place was designated for each to fight. Valerian stood in the eastern corner of the arena, with Zenith beside him. Zenith was calm, his gaze serious. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"Be careful," Zenith said to him while watching the other competitors. "Not everyone here is weak."

Valerian nodded, observing his opponents. There was a group of warriors gathering in small clusters. Some carried spears, others swords, and some even wielded sharp dual blades.

At the moment the whistle to begin the battle blew, chaos erupted. The fighters didn’t hesitate to pounce on their opponents. The noise was loud, weapons clashing, and each fighter trying to prove himself.

Valerian moved swiftly. The dagger in his hand was light, allowing him to move like the wind. He rushed toward his first opponent, who carried a long sword. His eyes were deep in challenge. He wasn’t a weak opponent, but he didn’t know how to deal with the speed Valerian possessed.

During the fight, Valerian thought of himself, his goals. There’s no room for error, no time for regret. I must surpass these people, if I want to stay here.

His dagger danced between his opponent’s hands in fleeting moments. Every time his opponent tried to strike, he would dodge and hit from the sides. There was a kind of dance to this battle—Valerian moving, evading, and striking. He didn’t attack recklessly, but measured every step with caution. Suddenly, the arena spun and the positions shifted. His opponent launched a massive attack, trying to hit him hard. But Valerian was faster. A light movement, and the attack stopped at the last moment, followed by a decisive strike from Valerian that overwhelmed his foe.

There was no time to rest. Another opponent approached. This time, it was a powerful warrior wielding a massive axe. It seemed like his first blow could crush any defense, but for Valerian, it was just another test of his speed. He took a deep breath and prepared to move even faster.

As Valerian pounced on his second opponent, Zenith had launched himself as well. He fought fiercely, every strike of his sword shook the ground. He moved quickly, rushing toward a massive opponent wielding a sharp spear. The huge fighter stood in the center of the arena, trying to impose his dominance on everyone. But Zenith was stronger than that. Every time his opponent tried to attack, Zenith blocked the strikes with power and countered with a fierce assault.

The massive man tried to push Zenith into the corner, and at one point, the sword clashed with the spear. There was a violent struggle between the two, like a storm under the blazing sun.

Valerian was trying to overcome a third opponent, one more skilled in offense, who had the ability to predict his movements. He almost failed in defending himself at one moment.

As for Zenith, after a fierce struggle, he finally knocked his opponent to the ground. The decisive blow had come from a massive force that broke through his opponent’s defense, proving his superiority. But he didn’t feel relieved yet. There were three more battles, and he knew the fight wasn’t over yet.

While Zenith was catching his breath, resting the tip of his sword on the ground for a moment, he heard heavy footsteps approaching him. He raised his head, looked at the newcomer. He was a young man, slightly taller than him, with a solid body and muscles tightened under a dark black leather armor. In his hand, a massive sword that almost dragged on the ground from its weight, but strangely... he carried it like a light piece of wood.

His steps stopped a few feet away from Zenith, a calm side-smile on his face.

He spoke in a low voice: "You’re the one who took down Daran, aren’t you?"

Zenith didn’t reply, only slowly raised his sword, his gaze sharp, entirely focused. His body too relaxed... this wasn’t an amateur, this was someone used to fighting.

"My name is Kyren," he continued, "and I need two cards. You’re one of them." Then he charged without warning.

Their swords clashed with force, and the air trembled around them. Kyren’s pressure was enough to push Zenith two steps back. It wasn’t just strength that was the problem, but precision, and skill. Every strike from him was calculated.

Zenith didn’t retreat. He reset his stance, then advanced quickly, his strikes now more cautious, focused on armor openings, not just trading strength. He knew strength alone wouldn’t bring down such an opponent.

As their strikes followed each other, and their blades collided again and again, Zenith’s eyes gleamed, and he began to move faster, mixing defense and attack with agility. Yet, no clear opportunity presented itself. Kyren kept smiling as if testing him, not truly fighting him.

On the other side of the arena, Valerian was dripping with sweat, his breath rapid, as he slid under the strike of his fourth opponent a slim but terrifyingly fast young man, wielding a light sword that gleamed every time it spun through the air.

The fight between them had lasted longer than Valerian expected. His strikes were easily deflected, and dodging was growing harder with fatigue. He had used almost all his tricks every quick step, feint, and maneuver. But the opponent kept up, as if he knew how Valerian thought.

In a moment, as he tried to step back to catch his breath, his foot hit a small stone, throwing him slightly off balance. He saw his opponent move swiftly, attacking to end it. But Valerian didn’t hesitate. He spun immediately, lunging toward the sword before the strike was complete, stabbing his dagger toward the shoulder.

The stab pierced the armor, pushing the opponent back, but he didn’t fall. It was a deep wound, but not fatal. Still, the opponent looked shaken, and Valerian used that moment to attack again, with a swift sideways strike that knocked the sword out of his opponent’s hand, then pushed him to the ground.

Valerian knelt beside him, catching his breath as he wiped his forehead with a trembling sleeve, then reached toward the opponent’s belt pouches, where the cards were kept.

He opened the first pouch... empty.

Second... nothing.

Third... nothing.

He froze for a moment, then looked at the opponent who was writhing in pain on the ground, and under his eyes, something of disbelief.

"Where... are your cards?!" Valerian asked, voice hoarse.

The opponent raised his eyes and said, "I haven’t taken anyone down yet... You were the first I tried to defeat."

The sound of the world suddenly collapsed in Valerian’s ears.

All that effort... all those strikes... no card.

He stood, features heavy with exhaustion, anger, and disappointment.

Time was running out. He had to find an opponent who carried cards.

His body screamed from fatigue, but inside, anger began to override everything. Not just anger at his opponents... but at himself.

If I were faster... if I were stronger... if I hadn’t wasted time fighting someone who had nothing...

He began moving quickly, eyes scanning for other opponents anyone who looked like they had already defeated someone.

Then he saw a young man on the western edge of the arena, standing calmly, his sword covered in blood, and in front of him lay three bodies, some still twitching.

Valerian narrowed his eyes... then avoided him.

Meanwhile, the clash between Zenith and Cairn had begun to take on a more violent tone. The ground around them bore the marks of swords, and both their faces were drenched in sweat, their expressions no longer calm.

Cairn said as he pressed with his sword, "You’re better than I expected... but that’s not enough."

Then came a sudden strike, forcing Zenith to retreat with great effort.

But Zenith smiled, for the first time since the fight began, and said calmly:

"Good... You’re not disappointing either."

Then he launched himself again, and with every strike, something inside him awakened... something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The real battle... had just begun.