Will of the Battlefield

The arena was louder than it had ever been, thousands of spectators packed the stands.

This was no longer merely an examination. It had become a matter of pride.

The pride of kingdoms and the reputations of their people.

The referee stepped into the center of the arena.

His gaze swept across the participants before settling upon the Krynovan swordsman.

"Etno Kamsi."

Etno nodded.

"You will wait outside the battlefield until the conclusion of this match."

Not a single complaint escaped him.

The swordsman merely inclined his head and stepped away from the arena floor.

His expression remained unreadable, calm and very observant.

As if he were studying a problem whose solution had not yet revealed itself.

Meanwhile, Donovan Young walked closer to Thane from the opposite side.

The crowd immediately erupted into boos.

The Drevlorn noble ignored them.

His eyes were fixed upon one person, the one and only Thane.

The giant stood at the very center of the arena.

Behind him came Sky and Rimon.

Both looked nervous, neither attempted to hide it.

They knew the truth. Not only them, everyone knew the truth. If Thane lost, their team lost.

It was as simple as that, a brutal and unavoidable reality.

Still, neither intended to become dead weight.

Sky adjusted her grip around her sword’s hilt and Rimon exhaled slowly. "If we get involved, we’re probably dead."

Sky nodded. "Probably."

Then she glanced at Thane. "But let’s at least look useful."

The giant heard it. He turned his head to reply. "Don’t be heroes, just survive and I’ll come back to help. Trust me."

The other two nodded. They had been putting their trust in Thane until now, so why not a couple more times?

The referee raised his hand. The arena’s noise gradually died down.

Then came the announcement. "Begin."

Finally, the battle of giants began. Thane stood 6’2 tall, while Donovan towered over him at 6’4.

Thane was built like a bull. Wide and crude, a build of strongmen. He weighed 235 kg.

On the other hand, Donovan had very refined muscles, with a body weight of 217 kg.

It was a breathtaking fight. One looked like an immovable mountain and the other like an unstoppable siege tower.

Immediately, the crowd noticed something unusual.

Donovan had not brought his mace. No other weapon rested in his hands. He intended to fight barehanded.

The realization spread quickly through the audience. He wanted to best Thane through his own forte, brute strength.

Some saw confidence, others saw arrogance.

Donovan himself saw only one thing: an opportunity to rise and shine.

He wanted Thane broken personally, without a weapon or any kind of excuses. Just his fists.

The two young men walked toward each other. The distance closed as the tension thickened.

Neither looked away. For several moments, they simply stared.

Then Thane suddenly spoke. "You can hit me first."

Donovan narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Thane pointed at his own face. "You can hit first," he repeated.

The Drevlorn noble frowned. "Why?"

The giant scratched his nose, his expression brightened. "I promised my pops something."

The crowd listened. Many expected profound wisdom, or perhaps some family lesson.

Thane spoke. "He told me to give dumb and weak people a chance to attack first."

The entire arena froze, then it exploded. Half the spectators burst into laughter, the other half nearly choked.

Sky immediately covered her face, trying not to piss off the Drevlornian before him.

Rimon groaned. "No..."

Donovan’s expression darkened. The giant seemed completely sincere, and that somehow made it worse.

The Drevlorn noble laughed, a cold laugh. "You think you’re clever?"

Thane blinked.

Donovan pointed at him. "Fine."

A cruel smile appeared. "I promised my father something too."

Thane’s eyes widened. "Really?"

The giant looked genuinely interested, then confusion crossed his face. "But I’m not weak."

The arena erupted again. Even several judges failed to hide their amusement.

Donovan’s patience finally snapped. Enough talking and this nonsense.

He had tolerated enough of Thane. His fist moved.

BOOM!

The punch slammed into Thane’s face. The giant’s head turned violently.

The crowd gasped. Donovan did not stop there. A second punch followed.

Then a third, a hook and a knee, an uppercut, a kick again.

Years of training revealed themselves instantly.

The Drevlorn noble was fast, very fast.

Far faster than most candidates, his fists became blurs.

His combinations flowed smoothly, each strike chained into the next.

No wasted motion, no hesitation, only violence.

Thane raised his arms. He tried to block some impacts, but he failed to stop everything.

Several attacks landed cleanly. A hook smashed into his jaw.

A knee buried itself into his ribs, a kick struck his thigh.

The impacts echoed throughout the arena. The crowd’s laughter vanished.

Donovan was proving something. He was not merely a loudmouth, he possessed genuine strength.

Even Etno narrowed his eyes from the sidelines.

The Krynovan swordsman watched closely... He followed every movement carefully, studying, evaluating, and measuring.

Meanwhile, Donovan continued his assault. His fists crashed against Thane again and again.

The giant staggered backward. Dust rose beneath his feet. Blood appeared beneath his nose.

The crowd leaned forward. A few cheered, others looked worried.

Yet Thane never fell, not once. The giant simply endured like a wall weathering a storm.

The barrage continued as everyone looked toward Thane.

Blood dripped slowly from his nose. A bruise darkened one cheek.

His chest rose and fell steadily. Then, he smiled.

The expression caught Donovan completely off guard.

Thane wiped the blood from beneath his nose and looked at it.

Then he nodded. "You are almost as strong as Topda."

Murmurs rose among the crowd, wondering who Topda was.

Donovan frowned. For a moment, satisfaction appeared within him. He thought Topda would be some absolute monster.

Then Thane continued. "Your hit is painful."

The satisfaction grew, until Thane spoke again.

"But there is one thing."

Donovan narrowed his eyes. "What thing?"

The giant’s smile widened, the answer came immediately. "You are disappointingly slower than him."

Silence befell again. The words landed harder than any punch.

Donovan’s expression froze. The crowd froze as well.

Then something changed. For the first time since the battle began, Thane moved seriously.

The giant darted toward Donovan. Gasps erupted.

A man his size should not move that quickly. It looked wrong.

Yet there he was, his charge like a mountain slide.

Crossing the battleground instantly, Donovan’s eyes widened.

Instinct screamed: danger. Real danger.

He attempted to retreat, but it was already too late.

A massive hand seized his collar. The arena collectively held its breath.

The difference in weight suddenly became terrifyingly obvious.

Donovan was not facing a giant anymore. He was caught by one.

For the first time that day, fear flickered across his face.

Then Thane punched. The fist buried itself deep into Donovan’s stomach.

The impact sounded like thunder striking stone.

BOOM!

Air exploded from Donovan’s lungs, his eyes bulged, his body folded around the punch.

And then, his feet left the ground. The crowd rose as one. Thousands stood simultaneously.

Donovan Young flew backward through the air like a projectile launched from a siege weapon.

Helpless. Weightless. As if he had been broken by a single strike.

And every person watching realized the same thing.

The fight had only truly begun now.