The first rays of dawn crept over Beginner's Rest, painting the stone streets and wooden rooftops in soft gold. The town, usually noisy and bustling at this hour, carried a sharper energy today. Players hurried toward the Ironhawk Mercenaries' tournament grounds, chatting excitedly, making bets, polishing weapons. Flags bearing the Ironhawk symbol fluttered over the wooden fences, and the makeshift spectator stands were already filling up.
Akhil moved quietly through the shifting crowd. He wore no enchanted armor, no gleaming cape, no brilliant weapon across his back. Only the reinforced leather armor and a worn Iron-Edged Dagger rested at his side. Compared to the flashy beginners around him, he looked invisible — and that suited him perfectly.
He joined the registration line without drawing attention. Around him, beginners showed off polished swords, glittering axes, and colorful potion belts. Some laughed and joked, others loudly declared how many rounds they would survive. A few sneered openly when they noticed Akhil's plain appearance, mistaking it for weakness. Words meant nothing to him. Only results mattered.
His system interface flickered quietly in the corner of his vision.
[Round 1 Opponent: Ryder314 — Duel Scheduled at Arena Ground B]
Akhil headed toward the assigned battlefield, a simple fenced circle marked with chalk lines. Across the arena, Ryder314 waited, flashing a confident grin. He wore expensive silver armor and gripped a massive flaming axe that buzzed faintly with minor enchantments. His friends lined the stands, shouting encouragement.
Ryder pointed his weapon lazily across the field. "Hey newbie," he shouted loud enough for the audience to hear, "if you beg nicely, maybe I'll end it quick for you."
The crowd laughed. Akhil didn't reply. His body settled naturally into a loose fighting stance, feet apart, dagger ready but low. Calm. Watching.
The referee, a grizzled Ironhawk veteran, raised his hand high. "First match! Akhil versus Ryder314.Rules: Fight until surrender, knockout, or system forfeit. No killing allowed. Begin on my mark!"
The referee's hand dropped. "Begin!"
Ryder rushed forward, raising his flaming axe high over his head in an overhead smash designed to intimidate rookies. Akhil sidestepped easily, letting the heavy weapon crash into the dirt. Before Ryder could lift it again, Akhil slashed a shallow line across his exposed elbow joint. Sparks flew, and a small damage number floated briefly into the air.
[14]
Minimal, but clean. Ryder growled, spinning around and swinging the axe horizontally, flames licking the weapon's edge. Akhil ducked low, rolled forward under the wide swing, and nicked Ryder's shin with a quick slash.
The fight wasn't flashy. It wasn't loud. But it was efficient.
Around them, murmurs spread through the watching crowd. Ryder's strikes became sloppier as frustration set in. He activated his minor Flame Aura skill, adding heat and weight to each blow, but Akhil stayed just outside range, moving with silent efficiency. Every time Ryder missed, Akhil punished him with another shallow cut.
Small numbers continued to pop up.
[12][18][16]
Ryder's health bar wore down slowly but surely. Desperation twisted his expression. With a roar, he charged blindly, swinging recklessly. Akhil waited until Ryder overcommitted, sidestepped at the last possible moment, and drove his dagger into the exposed underarm joint.
[Critical Hit! Damage: 60]
Ryder stumbled forward, gasping as his health dropped into critical range. The system chimed coldly.
[Victory! Akhil wins the first round.]
The referee stepped forward and raised his hand toward Akhil. "Winner: Akhil!"
The crowd fell into stunned silence for a moment before erupting into low murmurs. Some booed, others clapped half-heartedly, and a few simply stared. Akhil didn't wait for reactions. He sheathed his dagger, nodded politely to the referee, and walked off the field without looking back.
Behind him, Ryder sat stunned in the dirt, clutching his side. The laughter from earlier had vanished.
WhisperToma, watching from a shaded rooftop, smiled faintly beneath his hood. "First blood drawn," he murmured. "And not the last."
The rest of the day moved like a grinding wheel. Match after match, Akhil faced stronger opponents. Some were heavy weapon users, trying to crush him with brute strength. Others were magic users, hurling spells from a distance. A few were tricksters, hiding poisoned daggers or setting traps.
None of it mattered.
Akhil adapted. Against heavy fighters, he moved constantly, forcing them to waste energy on missed swings. Against spellcasters, he broke their rhythm by staying hidden behind obstacles, striking when they least expected. Against tricksters, he baited traps deliberately, exposing them before they could activate.
Each match carved his reputation deeper into the tournament grounds. Whispered rumors floated around the stands.
"Who is that guy?"
"Where did he come from?"
"No one's even scratched him!"
By the semifinals, he had earned a nickname among the spectators: The Ghost. The player you couldn't hit. The player who finished you before you realized you were losing.
His semifinal opponent was a twin-dagger user, fast and dangerous. For the first time, Akhil struggled. He took real hits, retreating twice under the rain of flashing blades. His health bar dipped low, his stamina drained faster than expected. But he watched. Learned. Adjusted.
Mid-battle, he recognized the twin-dagger user's weakness — a tiny delay when shifting weight between attacks. Akhil exploited it, slipping inside the guard during a heavy feint, slamming his shoulder into the opponent's chest and pinning him against a fence post. One final, decisive dagger strike ended the match.
[Victory! Akhil advances to the finals.]
The crowd roared with a mix of excitement and disbelief. No one had expected the nameless beginner to make it this far. WhisperToma leaned casually against a pillar, nodding slowly to himself. "It's started," he said quietly. "The legend is starting."
The final battle took place under a blood-orange sunset.
Akhil faced Serik, a spear user. Unlike Ryder or the other flashy players, Serik wore plain armor and no enchanted trinkets. His movements were simple, practiced. His eyes held no arrogance, only quiet focus.
Akhil immediately recognized him for what he was — a real fighter.
When the referee dropped his hand, both moved at once.
Serik struck with sharp, precise thrusts, forcing Akhil to stay mobile. The spear's reach advantage kept Akhil dancing along the edge of danger, always half a second from death. Neither player spoke. Neither taunted. It was pure combat, silent and brutal.
Minutes passed. The crowd grew restless, but neither broke formation.
Akhil watched. He noticed the tiny favoring of Serik's right leg — an old injury, perhaps. A moment of hesitation between lunges.
When the chance came, Akhil didn't hesitate. He feinted left, drew the spear thrust, and pivoted right, slashing into Serik's exposed side. The impact staggered Serik, forcing him to retreat, but he spun and caught Akhil across the ribs with a desperate counterattack.
Pain exploded through Akhil's side, but he gritted his teeth and pressed forward. Both were wounded now, but Akhil moved faster. He struck again, and again, pushing Serik back until finally, with a last heavy blow, Serik dropped to one knee, breathing hard.
The system chimed once more.
[Victory! Akhil wins the Tournament.]
The spectators erupted into full cheers this time. Some out of respect, some out of pure shock.
The Ironhawk captain approached Akhil directly, clapping slowly. "Well done, boy," he said with a slight grin. "You fought like a ghost. No waste. No fear. You earned this."
The reward notifications followed immediately.
[Rewards: 500 Credits + Ironhawk Recognition Token]
And then a second hidden message.
[Special Hidden Award Unlocked: Silent Predator Title](+5% Dodge Chance, +3 Agility)
Akhil accepted everything silently, nodding to the captain without any theatrics.
He had come to survive.
He had come to rise.
And now, the world was starting to whisper his name — not in mockery, but in wary respect.
Tomorrow, players would remember the nameless figure who came from nowhere, who didn't brag or boast, but simply destroyed everything in his path.
And this was only the beginning.
TO BE CONTINUED.......................
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[Player Status: Akhil]
Class: Glitchborn (Hidden Class)
Level: 9
Health (HP): 410/410
Mana (MP): 130/130
Stamina (SP): 190/190 Strength (STR): 16
Agility (AGI): 13
Intelligence (INT): 3
Vitality (VIT): 11
Dexterity (DEX): 10
Luck (LUK): ??? (Hidden)
Title(s):
- Survivor of Crimson Hollow (+5% Poison Resistance, +2 Agility)
- Silent Predator (+5% Dodge Chance, +3 Agility)
Skills:
- Night Predator (Passive)
- Whisper Sense (Passive)
- Minor Poison Resistance (Passive)
Equipment:
- Weapon: Iron-Edged Dagger
- Armor: Reinforced Leather Armor
- Boots: Scout Boots
- Accessory: Broken Miner's Amulet
Credits: 705
Quest Active: None
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