Right in the midst of that scorching hot day, reminiscent of one three years ago, the crowd stood frozen in awe and anticipation. And the announcer stepped into the arena, his presence instantly commanding attention.

  With a whisper of enchantment, magic was woven into his voice. The words boomed like thunder, reverberating off the walls and setting the crowd ablaze with fervent cheers.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, noble lords! Today heralds a truly momentous occasion! For the first time in a whole decade, a challenger graced us with his presence!” He rotated around, making sure to look over the entire grandstand.

  “And oh boy, he is ready. Ready to face the beasts prepared by the Adventurers Company! The ones that threaten our borders every day!” An announcer stopped, taking a deep breath, soaking in the electrifying atmosphere of the arena. Steering even more shouts and cries, rallying the crowd but simple silence.

  “Even if you're from distant lands, you have heard the tales of how brutal and merciless this trial is. This brave young man will engage in a real struggle against a horde of ferocious monsters. Progression of stages. Bereft of assistance or the comforts of soothing and defensive magic.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “Remember! Every cut will be real, every strike can shatter bones, every scream of pain can’t be faked. Be sure of that. Inside this arena, every drop of sweat, blood, and tears will be a testament to real, uncensored struggle seen nearly exclusively by our adventurers beyond the walls and deep in the dungeon.”

  The crowd roared even louder, like they were trying to defend each other or compete with the announcer who continued on. “Every creature's ferocity is primal, and there will be no sanctuary, no safe place, nowhere to hide. The stark, raw confrontation. This is the ultimate test of both character and strength!” He paused dramatically again as he spun himself around with wide open arms.

  And when he finally stopped, he raised one hand towards a group of onlookers. They erupted with loud shouts and applause. The fervor was reaching its peak.

  The man inhaled deeply before unleashing an even more rousing declaration, his voice surging with even more vigor and excitement.

  “Now, please, join me in welcoming our one and only applicant! Draaaaaaaaaaaake! Drake Antos!” The arena exploded so loudly that it threatened its very walls.

  “This young man, a warrior! He was born in Vellos, faced with a tragic fate. And he now returned after a three-year absence. No one knows what he did. No one knows where he was. But one thing is for certain: he is here to prove a point!” The announcer lowered his tone to sound more ominous as he scanned the arena with his gaze.

  “And you know, there is a goddamn good reason for that look in his eyes. Citizens of Vellos! Cast your minds back to the harrowing attack. Those who remember will know him as the spirited son of the skilled hunter Balgron and the good apothecary Catherine. Yes, you heard it right! That boy is now a man. In just a moment he’ll be standing against the snarling jaws and mighty claws! Let us rally behind him in this monumental challenge!”

  “ROAR! YOUR! APPLAUSE!”

  With that final proclamation, the crowd erupted into a cacophony of cheers, shouts, whistles, and applause. Reverberating throughout the arena so hard that the gravel was falling from the walls, and one could even notice the ripples on the sands that covered the floor of this colosseum.

  Finally, the grand, sturdy wooden gates creaked open. A young man stepped into the arena, the searing sunlight kissing his face. The electric thrill of the audience filled the air with an exhilaration unlike anything he'd experienced before.

  Gone were the days of solitary battles. Now, thousands of eyes were fixed on him. All ready to witness this moment of glory or failure.

  Everyone practically devoured him with their gazes. Marveling at his striking figure against the sand. Well-defined, tall, and muscular. His physique glistened with beads of perspiration against his slightly tanned skin that shimmered in the sunlight.

  Scars etched across his body told silent stories of past skirmishes and the relentless fights for survival. Each mark, small or big, a testimony to the challenges he had previously faced. Head-on.

  Drake's armor was stunning. Crafted for both functionality and elegance, fashioned meticulously. Yet not without a fault in the eyes of the seasoned artisans. Undoubtedly made from the materials of vanquished monsters.

  The base of the armor consisted of a gleaming scale mail, with its interlocking scales shimmering in hues of deep bronze and emerald, mimicking a basilisk's skin. Each lame, derived from the hide of a snake-like creature, which offered exceptional protection, allowing for fluid and agile movement. Ensuring the young warrior could navigate the battlefield with feline grace.

  A breastplate, which was handily molded to fit his massive physique, adorned with intricate patterns of skilled craftsmanship of an unknown origin. Including stylized depictions of strange rune-like symbols that danced across the surface in the sunlight.

  His forearms were sheathed in vambraces, crafted from the hardened leather of mountain direwolf, providing both sturdy defense and a fearsome appearance. Designed to accentuate his reflexes, allowing for swift parries and powerful counters.

  Beneath these protective layers, the leather undergarments were dyed in dark shades, made from the tanned hides of azure and lava boars, ensuring comfort and agility as he traversed any arena of his choice.

  The legs were protected by greaves fashioned from the chitin of giant death cicadas, offering rugged defense against nearly any blows while maintaining an extremely convenient lightweight.

  What was more telling is that just like his body, every piece of equipment bore battle scars. Embodying all the struggles endured. Thick, hardened leather pants with plate covers at joints were a simple addition to all the other handcrafted pieces.

  Throughout his appearance, everyone, adventurer or not, could really feel the raw, untamed power and authority.

  For the weapons in each hand, Drake held a dark, shining, double-edged axe with thick handles engraved in unknown materials. It was apparent those were not just for show. Only a keen eye could see the playful glimmer of obsidian within the reflected rays.

  Drake made a few slow steps forward with a deliberate warrior’s grace. He could feel the hot air floating up from the sand, seeping right under his armor. He looked up and scanned the arena with his gaze.

  There must be at least ten thousand people here. They came for entertainment. Some of them could even be my neighbors from back in the day. Will they support me?

  “Hey kid, snap out of it. Just do everything like we have rehearsed, alright? Remember, this is your stage and yours only!” Jake’s voice resonated in his head, reminding him of his purpose.

  “Yeah, you’re right. I just didn’t expect this would turn out this way. And that’s after dancing with death so many times. I could get anxious from people simply staring at me. Ha-ha!” A young warrior gripped his axes tightly.

  With lightning-fast motion, he jerked his hand, raising it high. The crowd gasped, holding its breath in silence. But inside he felt that it was ready to explode at any moment.

  The air inside his lungs was dry and hot. But Drake was calm now. This could be no different from fighting the monsters at the Borok Mountain Range. Easier!

  However, something was different. The unknown before elation and anticipation surged within him. Only intensified further by the crowd’s energy. So much that the young man could hardly contain himself as he held this whirlwind of emotions from erupting.

  You can do this! He told himself. Just follow the plan. I’m too deep into this, I can’t waver now!

  Drake moved his lips, and with a booming, strong voice, he finally proclaimed. “People of Vellos! Some of you may know me, while others may be hearing my name for the first time today. Regardless of that, I stand here, before you. I have a statement to make!”

  He rotated around, addressing the entire arena. “I have returned. Returned to my hometown. Yet I'm no longer an orphaned boy driven by the simple dream of becoming an adventurer. Crushed by the hard reality and tragedy.”

  His eyes glimmered as he looked up into the blue sky free of clouds and sun reflecting in his emeralds. “I’ve come here, ready to surpass that dream! Ready to crush the past and make a future! A lot among you may think that those shoes are yet too big for me to choose. And, that could be true. But know this: no matter the outcome of today’s fight, I offer my deepest gratitude to each and every one of you. All who will bear witness to either my ultimate triumph or bitter failure, I salute!”

  As he roared, raising his axes high and crossing them, making sparks fly. The sound of his resolute declaration reverberated through the crowd. Sending ripples and shivers in waves.

  The young man appeared like looking everyone right in the eyes. As the silent tension in the air finally snapped, the crowd simply exploded. Some were jumping in their seats, while others were shouting to the point of veins popping on their necks.

  “Finally, we’ve got a real fighter here, hell yeah!” a burly man shouted from the stands at the top of his voice as it rose above the clamor.

  “Just look at his axes! It’s going to be ugly!” A young adventurer exclaimed, eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “Let’s go! Let’s go, Drake!” someone shouted, echoing the sentiment shared by many.

  “Drake! Drake! Drake!” The young warrior could hear his name rising into the air from across the entire arena. The stage was set.

  As he raised his weapons into the air once again, filling his lungs with the air of determination. He bellowed with all his might, “LET THIS TEST BEGIN!”

  The attendant standing on the platform in the corner received the signal and rang the bell. As another bulky man pulled the wooden lever with a distinctive creak and clang of the mechanism set in motion.

  As soon as Drake took his battle stance, the heavy gates of the arena swung open, and from them poured a whole pack. Twenty ferocious and hungry death hounds flooded the space around the young man. Their fierce forms devouring the ground beneath them.

  They rushed together, quickly establishing a menacing front. The communal force that never operated alone, only as a roaring small legion.

  “Oh my god, look at that. Here they come!” a woman cried, grasping her companion's arm, covering her face.

  “Damn, their eyes look hungry!” came the reply.

  Without hesitation, the young warrior charged headlong towards the snarling pack. The hounds growled menacingly, attempting to encircle him, their eyes glinting with predatory intent.

  Yet, with a grace that rivaled the wildest of dances, he sprinted and dodged, nimbly evading the lethal claws and snapping jaws. With a masterful whirl of his axes, he cleaved through those who dared come too close. In mere heartbeats, a total of five hounds tumbled lifeless to the arena floor.

  “Holly… Did you see that? That’s incredible!” One of the young girls exclaimed, jumping from her seat.

  “Ha ha, the guy is just toying with them!” The adventurer shouted, clapping his hands in adoration.

  As Drake's relentless assault continued, the audience felt like the surrounding dust-filled air was a protective shroud, for nothing could reach him. He moved with calm ferocity. Dispatching the startled beasts with effortless precision.

  The scene unfolded like a culinary master expertly chopping vegetables in a bustling tavern kitchen. It took him less than a few moments and zero wasted movements as all twenty death hounds lay in dismembered heaps upon the sandy ground. Their power reduced to mere fragments of fur and bone.

  “Unbelievable! Is he a legend in the making?!” called an older man, shaking his head in puzzlement.

  The young warrior flicked his axes to shake off the splattered blood, and a few droplets hissed against the overheated sand. Daring for a stronger challenge to come, his eyes were deep and focused.

  As the young warrior stood there, the depth of his extraordinary skills became glaringly obvious. He had carved the hounds into pieces without so much as a splash of blood staining his figure. Both his face and armor remained pristine, save for a light dusting of sand adorning its surface. To an average citizen, it was indeed a testament to his near-mythical prowess in battle.

  The crowd went truly insane after witnessing such a display of skill. They could not contain their excitement and awe about the young man. Practically all the young maidens in the arena were now enchanted by an invisible spell.

  “Did you see that? He’s magnificent! I knew he was not simple looks.” Valentina gushed to Helena, who gave her a nod of genuine approval.

  “That definitely looked crystal clean. But remember, this is just the beginning. I wonder what he's going to show next.” The swormaiden replied, her excitement tempered with caution.

  And her caution was well justified. The first stage was worth no more than a high range of D-rank adventurers power level. Things could get ugly very fast with a higher-end C-rank.

  The brief respite didn’t last for long. And when the next gates opened, three hawk-beak Volibears jumped into the arena. Although a bit malnourished and not particularly large, their smaller size made them even more dangerous opponents, fueled by hunger and possessing an agility advantage over their bulkier versions.

  “Those ones absolutely don’t look friendly.” A spectator whispered to his friend nervously.

  “Don’t underestimate him! If anyone can handle it, it’s him!” Someone else encouraged him, hope flickering in their voice.

  “Well, hello, old friend…s?” The young man at the center of the arena playfully murmured to himself, a smirk flickering on his lips.

  With a quick inhale, he felt time was slipping away like sand through the palm of his hand. He sprang into action immediately, launching his first attack.

  He smelled blood. The axes whirled expertly in his grasp, slicing through the air as he executed his enhanced cut-and-slash double swing crafted through countless hours of tireless practice.

  The closest standing beast did not even have time to react. The blades, infused with Drake’s physical enhancement buff, cut deeply into the Volibear's flesh. Its tough leather and fur offered no resistance. A staggered beast let out a pained howl.

  Blood sprayed in a long arc, staining the arena floor in vibrant crimson quickly devoured by dry sand. As the warrior spun, using the momentum to cut the distance and deliver successive slashes to the second unsuspecting beast. As he swiftly appeared in its line of sight, drawing the attention towards him.

  Agile on his feet, Drake moved around the sandy arena with lethal grace, his legs light and swift. The spectators were captivated, watching as he seemed to drift effortlessly over the ground. Each movement felt like a fluid extension of his will.

  As the wounded Volibears charged. One was leaping to crush him with its weight and another lunging with claws bared. Drake dipped low, rolling beneath the creature’s belly. Slashes opened deeper wounds, exposing its guts, and the arena continued to run crimson.

  “It’s unbelievable! Look at him go. What a brawl!” A bard in colorful clothes exclaimed, scribbling in his notebook furiously.

  “This is so brutal, but I just can’t take my eyes off him!” A woman cried, her heart racing.

  The time passed differently in his mind, as each heartbeat stretched into eternity. Drake's senses heightened. Every sound and shift in the wind reverberated through him like an ethereal music guiding this dance, adjusting his movements.

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  The warrior evaded all their strikes with incredible agility, weaving in and out of their sharp claws and snapping beaks, only occasionally needing to block an attack with perfect clockwork timing.

  He launched himself into a series of rapid maneuvers, slashing fiercely at the beasts, targeting their vulnerable limbs, and dodging to the side. The beast could not catch him, as he was constantly moving in and out of their line of sight inside the sunlit arena walls.

  His positioning was perfect. Each move contained condensed intent. He knew where to step, how much power to apply for a strike, and which angle to strike from. Everyone could see his eyes were constantly fixed on the target while always minding the surroundings. It was evident that the young man was experienced in fighting the beasts far beyond his years.

  The feral dance persisted for several long moments as Drake meticulously chipped away at the volibears life forces. It felt as if he was meeting them halfway, all while the fight turned out to be no jest even for the most seasoned adventurers. The audience across the grandstand was simply bewildered at how easily he triumphed over these fierce and feared monsters. Making the deadly matchup look dangerously and unbelievably one-sided.

  “What insane speed. He’s like a storm himself!” Shouted an adventurer in leather armor, his face full of surprise.

  All while the battle continued to run its course. But a wave of primal rage overcame one of the Volibears, lunging wildly and attempting a powerful overhead strike instead of a usual side slash.

  In that fleeting moment, Drake capitalized on the opportunity as his eyes easily captured the change in the beast's movement. Reacting with the reflexes of a master, he bent backward just in time and leaped off a thick wooden support column for the main platform.

  As he was narrowly escaping the beast's lethal claws, the creature's overhead strike crashed against the column, sending wooden chips and fragments flying everywhere. A cloud of debris and dust obscured its vision, creating a perfect moment for action.

  Drake pushed the initiative. He charged forward, excitement coursing through his veins as he closed the gap, leaping toward the frenzied creature and aiming for its neck. A well-known vital spot for him just under the reach of its guarding beak.

  The axe connected perfectly, severing the creature's throat with a massive fountain of crimson. The carcass collapsed onto the arena floor with a thud as it choked on its blood gushing from its neck.

  “Hah, that's one!” A voice rejoiced, the crowd surging with excitement.

  “Yes, come on!” Shouted an arena security guard, pumping his fist in triumph.

  Now before him, only the two surviving Volibears circled, their eyes revealing confusion doused with fear, wary of the warrior imposing such a powerful presence.

  They lunged forward together, surprisingly working in tandem, claws bared and roaring as they attempted to crush him. But Drake moved with even more dexterity that seemed to defy even logic, each step lightning fast yet calculated.

  As the closest Volibear prepared to strike, Drake felt the moment was right. He pivoted, energy swirling around him, as he positioned his double-edged axes. In a swift, fluid motion, he unleashed a deadly arc. An intricate clash of edges that transcended mere skill. The two axes met at the top, crossing each other with explosive force and fury.

  Their edges appeared to be singing in harmony as huge flying sparks ignited the sunny day. The very power from his movement rippled through the air with a resonating sound, like a battlefield drum heralding the coming of a legendary warrior.

  He plunged into the fray, the weight of his axes felt in each of his strikes. The first Volibear stood prepared to retaliate, but the gap was just too great. Drake harnessed the energy swirling around him into the very core of his axes' cross.

  With one swift, decisive movement, he thrust the blades outward, cleaving the air as he struck with unrivaled force. The two edges connecting with the massive creature’s neck. That was one of the most powerful and precisely executed double swings many adventurers saw in their entire lives.

  The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the arena, and suddenly, there was silence.

  A piercing screech of the Volibear’s fury was silenced as the spark in its eyes dimmed, and its massive head tumbled away. Striking the ground with a loud thud, it was an end befitting a creature of such terror. Blood poured like a crimson volcano eruption, soaking the arena’s sand in the wake of Drake's powerful figure towering over.

  “Oh-ho, how oddly interesting!” The usually reactionless and emotionless Lord Adonis Groodberth slightly leaned forward from his seat, narrowing his eyes. The tall knights beside him showed no reactions, staying emotionless. Except for a slight jerk of one hand.

  A sole remaining Volibear recoiled in shock, its eyes wide with disbelief. It wasn’t just the loss of its ally that shook it to the core. It was the incomprehensible power emanating from the man. before it. Fear, pure and unyielding, coursed through its veins. It was a sensation not even such beastly creatures were meant to experience.

  Drake stood tall, with his axes crossed again at the ready. They glinted menacingly, covered in fresh, dripping blood, the aftermath of the carnage. A surge of even more power pumped through his veins as he absorbed the awed reactions of the crowd. Their cheers resonating in a symphony of admiration and honor.

  He was no longer just a simple orphaned boy. He felt his legacy expanding with each strike delivered and every step taken. The sands of the arena now felt like home.

  “Finish it! Finish it, Drake!” A single voice managed to rise above the noise. As the frenzy of feverish support engulfed the whole arena's crowd.

  The remaining beast hesitated, already fully transformed from predator to prey. Drake advanced, the world around him fading into nothingness but the intent of his axes.

  As he maneuvered, closing in, the Voliber snarled and lunged, but this time its unpredictability betrayed it. The warrior easily dove beneath its furious strike, rising right behind the creature in one seamless motion. Spinning from his support leg, he pivoted into the air, drawing his axes high above his head. Descending from above like a falling star, he unleashed another unforgettable strike by swinging both in a downward arc.

  The blades found the marks right into the creature’s skull. Breaking through the thick bones with grim accuracy. The once-mighty beast staggered as the force of the blow knocked it off, ultimately crashing to the ground like a training wooden dummy.

  Drake felt a surge of victory coursing inside his spirit, soaring higher than ever as the echoes of all his battles thundered through.

  What a strange feeling. It’s like… I can feel their support, the roars, the shouts, the fervor. I can sense it. It gives me this… Hmmm, energy, power, it’s flooding my veins. Reaching to my core, filling me with warmth. The young warrior put his hand over his chest, like to feel it.

  So electrifying, so elating! It's remarkable! I want more of it! Drake raised his head as he rotated, meeting the onlookers gazes nearly one by one.

  The arena erupted with joyous cries, echoing off the stone walls, each cheer a resistant beat for his spirit. Adventurers watched closely, throwing gazes at each other, to see who would be the first to extend an offer.

  It was obvious that Lord Adonis Groodberth was genuinely intrigued. And Falorg Kriegrock kept a piercing gaze on the young warrior under his bushy brows. Monitoring every nuance of this display of raw power. Helena and Valentina were delighted. Their bet on the young man was among one of their reasons, of course.

  Even with the enhancement of an arcane voice spell, the announcer's call seemed a mere whisper, barely penetrating the charged atmosphere as he signaled the commencement of the final phase of the special qualification test.

  The very undertaking was no small feat, one that would rightfully bestow B-rank honors within the company’s ranks. Yet, there was no option to stop at any phase. The only choice was to press on. To the end.

  A heavy tremor rippled through the ground, silencing the thrumming hearts of spectators. As a colossal creature, towering at four men's heights, lumbered through the massive gate, each stride reverberating like the beat of a war drum.

  Wielding a gargantuan club, this grotesque green behemoth loomed over the aspiring adventurer, a towering mountain of muscle and menace. Undoubtedly, this encounter could not merely be a contest but rather a desperate struggle for survival. As the Ogre King prepared to unleash ruin upon all that lay before him.

  The air grew thick with extreme tension as Drake Antos tightened his grip on the axes that expertly danced in his hands, his feet firmly anchored deeper within the yielding sands.

  Gradually the cacophony of the crowd faded into a subdued murmur, almost as if the world around him had slipped into a surreal calm as he attuned himself to the moment. Adjusting his gaze and focus to a single condensed point. There was no use for unnecessary buzz. He filtered out every distraction from his senses.

  He watched the approach loosely. Each resounding footfall of the monstrous adversary echoed in Drake’s chest. A profound reminder of the challenge he chose to face. His heart thundered within his ribcage. Exhilaration surged through his veins like wildfire as the young man hung on the delicate balance between elation and tranquility.

  “This is it. It’s real. There’s no way back. Huh, there never was! Jake always told me to look only forward.” The warrior murmured to himself, steadying his resolve.

  Years of grueling training culminated in this singular moment of return. Either complete triumph or bitter fall. Each of the fearsome creature's movements sent shivers racing down the spines of the audience within the walls of the Veloss Arena. Most witnessed such a titan for the very first time, even among the adventurers. Their blood froze cold as they looked at it approaching the now dwarfed warrior in comparison.

  The sheer magnitude of the Ogre King was enough to terrify anyone. But not Drake. The young warrior had braved insurmountable odds before more than once. Yet he was not certain whether he could beat this beast.

  Not going to be easy! He felt that he had to draw on everything for this battle.

  With a guttural growl that shook the very foundations of the arena, the Ogre King hefted his club high above. The very air around him distorting with the force of his motion, the wind ripping through the space as it sent Drake’s half-cloak fluttering wildly.

  The lethal weapon descended with alarming swiftness, splintering the ground mere inches from where the young warrior had just stood. Reacting with reflexes honed by myriad battles, he rolled aside, narrowly dodging disaster with a cloud of dust and sand covering him.

  Without pause he sprang to his feet, determination igniting in his eyes. As splinters kissed his face, the shoulder was sickening.

  “Quite fast for such a fat donkey! But is that all you got? Do you think your size makes me shudder?” The young man taunted, daring to jest as he lunged towards the behemoth. This one was sentient enough to get riled up. Drake had to try every trick to rattle this battlefield.

  With precision, he swung his axes, targeting the vulnerable flesh beneath the Ogre King’s ribs. The blades sank into the creature's hide, but the beast barely acknowledged the assault, releasing a low, thunderous rumble that echoed and reverberated from the walls. It jerked dismissively with its free hand, making the young man dash.

  Fueled by fury, the monster sidestepped with a swift motion and ferocity that caught the man off guard. It was swinging its club in a whirlwind of power. Instinctively, Drake leaned back, bending at his knees with his buttocks nearly touching the ground. The mighty weapon hissed through the air above his face. The club’s edge flew like molten chaos, barely missing, radiating raw fury like a living furnace.

  With razor-sharp focus, the young warrior quickly assessed the recent developments in his mind, devising a strategy. He was smaller, quicker, and more agile, but the beast was so much stronger. The warrior knew well that the ogres possessed a significant but not limitless stamina.

  Mustering every ounce of caution, ever aware of the looming threat. Drawing on his finely honed skills, he began his meticulously choreographed dance within the bloody sands. Slowly luring the brute into an erratic battle rhythm. Keeping his guard well up.

  “Come on, you ugly abomination!” Drake continued his taunts, knowing for good that the creature could sense the mockery. Darting back and forth with uneven distance and interval, twisting and feinting. He tried to keep the Orge King off-balance and constantly off-beat. Each strike of the warrior’s axes was precisely calculated, targeting the weakest points where sinew and muscle dared to give way.

  Yet, the behemoth was no mere mindless beast. It, too, sensed the dance of this battle. As it observed Drake’s movements carefully, it deduced a certain pattern. In a reckless yet instinctively precise maneuver, the Ogre King swung its club in a blind arc while the warrior was still in its blind spot. A loud thud with a crack followed as the edge of the club caught Drake across the chest.

  The mighty impact sent him immediately airborne, crashing against the arena’s walls. Pain erupted through his body as he gasped for breath. Blood gushed from over his brow and his mouth alongside a stream of curses caused by the failure and the pain.

  Hah, fuck! Maybe I should consider stopping doing this. Shit, if I only had a gold coin for every time I've broken ribs… That would be like… Hmm, twenty-five by now. Hahaha! For some reason, he felt much more energized and excited rather than down. Too used to the pain.

  The onlookers at the arena fell silent, with nearly everyone jumping off their seats. They could not believe their eyes after everything that played out during the previous rounds. For the first time since the trial’s onset, the creature drew blood. The atmosphere of the arena tightened, holding its collective breath, anticipating what might unfold next. Most of the eyes were wide open, while some had covered their faces entirely. It was too much for them to bear.

  All the seasoned adventurers within the crowd understood immediately. This, and only now was the moment the true test began.

  Summoning every ounce of grit, Drake pushed himself up, teetering shakily as he regained his footing. Now adopting an unorthodox battle stance, one axe raised high above his head while the other dipped slightly below his belt level.

  He cloaked himself in a gleaming aura. Light gold mist swirled around his body as he activated his Indomitable Will coupled with another Physical Enhancement, bracing for the onslaught.

  Without hesitation, the Ogre King lunged at him. In a heartbeat, Drake darted and dodged already behind, unleashing a flurry of powerful strikes against the creature’s back and calves. Dark, nearly black blood oozed from shallow yet painful, throbbing wounds as the beast growled, anger simmering in its core.

  Unfazed, the young warrior pressed on, jumping high, delivering powerful swings that bit deep into the muscle around the monster's shoulders.

  The Ogre King erupted into a frenzy, swinging its club with unrestrained might toward Drake’s position. Unbothered, the young warrior stood his ground, crossing his axes before him to absorb the impact directly. The sound was a roaring explosion when the club met with the guard.

  Wind rushed into his face, fluttering his hair. Sand swirled from beneath the young warrior. The force of the strike shifted him slightly, yet he remained steadfast, his feet sinking ankles deep into the ground, veins bulging at the stained, sweaty muscles. With a sharp jerk of both weapons, he thwarted the blow, sending a tremor through the creature’s grip as it faltered.

  “Ha! Now we’re talking. Show me what you've got!” A triumphant smile split Drake’s face, even as blood trickled from his wounds into his eyes, like crimson ribbons dangling against his weary yet unyielding features.

  The Ogre let loose another bellowing roar that resonated through the Arena, a sound so potent it stained the whole area with dread. Mist enveloped the creature momentarily, its eyes darkening with rage. There was no mistake. The beast fell into a frenzy, forgoing reason in favor of a desperate surge of speed and strength.

  Everyone felt the stakes rise dramatically. Falrog, Adonis, Helena, Valentina, and every adventurer knew that this battle became more than most could ever dream to chew.

  “Hang in there, please, don't you dare to die!” Helena murmured to herself as the shocked Valentina threw a fast glance at her friend while entirely consumed by her fears.

  For a treacherously long time, the battle raged. The duel of wits and power continued. Ever so intensifying with every grain of sand in the clock. All the eyes were spellbound on the unfolding spectacle.

  A dizzying sequence of dodges, counterattacks, feints, ripostes, direct blocks, and strikes ensued. Drake's black axes were slicing through the air with a graceful ferocity that glinted in the sun. Painting the sands with dancing shadows and reflections in their wake.

  At that moment, his entire world contracted to the point where only the massive figure of his foe held his attention. Each of his movements was choreographed in a deadly dance of death.

  Sweat was running in streams all over his body, mixing with blood and dust into a jelly-like dark muddy mass. Coughing and panting hard, he pressed on, unwavering yet consciously aware of how dangerously on the edge he was with any blow and every dodge. More than once the club grazed his skin.

  As he darted again, another opening presented itself. Drake just emerged from the Orger’s blind spot. He was able to spin atop one of the swings, rolling over, emerging behind the creature to slash at its achilles with a mighty, powerful stroke, severing it for good. Forcing the creature to limp.

  The warrior followed it up with a swift backflip as he increased the distance between him and the frenzied foe. Drawing back was necessary to reassess his options. The strength was leaving his hands. Blisters had popped long ago, the handles were bloody and slippery.

  Despite barely feeling any pain in that state, the Ogre King slowly began to show signs of exhaustion. The myriad wounds were doing the job. With the steady loss of blood and heavy wounds on tendons and joints, finally took a visible toll on the beast. Just as Drake had planned.

  The young warrior sensed the climax of their struggle was nearing. He knew all too well that in his current state, he lacked the raw power needed to penetrate the creature’s sinewy armor or shatter its bones for good. His options were thin, but he knew he had to act now. His power and stamina were nearly gone.

  Time to end this! “Come closer!” He shouted, determination radiating from every inch of his battered body.

  Time itself seemed to stall as the creature turned, lunging with wild ferocity toward the distant target, one of its legs limping from behind, slowing the approach.

  The young warrior stood at the center of the arena like a carved statue. A strange sensation rippled through the air, an electric charge that left every spectator momentarily frozen in anticipation. Not in their wildest dreams could they imagine.

  Drake bent slightly at his knees, tracing a delicate half-circle with his axe as he carefully prepared his movements. With stunning precision and brute elegance befitting the most exquisite warriors, he executed a series of steps that bore the hallmarks of an erratic tribal dance. With each strain of muscle coiling tightly. A maelstrom of sand began to swirl upwards around him, transforming the arena's floor into an actual tempest.

  Engulfed in this whirlwind, he spun effortlessly, axes twirling faster as he advanced toward the rushing beast. Within the eye of the storm, he found serenity and focus. It was an astounding sight of someone executing the Axe Whirlwind inside an actual sandstorm. Without any doubt, it was a technique crafted through patient cultivation and practice.

  As the creature barreled forth in relentless pursuit, something truly bizarre occurred. Within the chaos surrounding the warrior’s form, crystalline glass needles began to take shape from the sand-filled air.

  It was a thing that would only occur upon casting a magical spell. A whistling symphony of hissing filled the arena as thousands of razor-sharp shards hurtled through the air. Finding their mark in the flesh of the enraged monster on the approach.

  Within a fleeting moment, the needle burst through the beast's left eye, and it stumbled and staggered in pain. One knee buckling beneath its unwieldy weight. As the storm continued relentlessly, unleashing its fury, sharp needles one after another effortlessly pierced through the monster’s hard flesh. Like a swarm of vengeful hornets aimed for the kill, stinging the intruder of their domain.

  The Arena’s sand was now drowning in a deluge of black blood, gushing forth from the lacerations as if the creature was being flayed alive. In just a few moments, the once-formidable Ogre King had been reduced to a grotesque, mushed mass. A pool of dark horror gathered around its colossal frame.

  The crowd watched stunned in silence. Until the creature gave off one final shuddering grunt. Relinquished of its club before collapsing to the ground, lifeless.

  When the tempest of sand settled, the effects of the magic powers waned. Drake staggered back, breathless and battered, yet undeniably triumphant.

  The suffocating silence was replaced with exhilaration as the onlookers rose in a cacophony of joy. A thunderous cheer able to tear one’s eardrums erupted from the bleachers, reaching far beyond the arena walls and far into the town and even the outskirts.

  One could not believe. An Ogre King was vanquished. And as Drake wiped sweat and blood from his face, a real transformation coursed through his veins. History had been forged this day. The town of Vellos had yet another legendary tale to tell of its glorious history.

  His armor was marred and dented yet brimming with a warrior’s valor. Standing proudly amidst the chaos, adorned in dust, blood, and triumph. Drake raised his axes high in a victorious salute.

  The young warrior was laughing erratically like a joyful kid in the center of the colosseum, bathing in the beams of glory!

  The final revision and update for RR of this chapter was done!

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