The underground battle arena pulsed with energy. The crowd roared as Rohan stepped into the ring, his heart pounding in rhythm with the deafening cheers. Across from him stood Dagger Fang, a lean yet deadly-looking fighter with twin knives gleaming under the fluorescent lights. His stance was low, predatory, his fingers twitching over the hilts of his weapons.

Rohan exhaled, rolling his shoulders. He knew this wasn’t going to be an easy fight. Knife fighters were quick, and one wrong move could end the match in an instant. He had to be careful, calculated.

“You should’ve backed out when you had the chance,” Dagger Fang sneered, twirling his blades in a dazzling display of skill. “You’re all muscle, no speed. Let’s see how long you last.”

The bell rang. Fight!

Dagger Fang shot forward like a blur, his knives slashing in rapid, precise arcs. Rohan barely had time to react as he sidestepped the first slice, feeling the wind of the blade graze past his ribs. The second knife came at his face, and he ducked, throwing his arms up just in time. A sharp sting burned across his forearm—his first wound.

Rohan gritted his teeth. He had to close the distance. Dagger Fang was faster, but Rohan had the strength advantage. If he could land a clean hit, it would be over.

Dagger Fang pivoted, feinting left before slashing low. Rohan hopped back, his foot slipping slightly on the sweat-slick floor. The knife-wielding fighter saw the opening and lunged.

Rohan twisted at the last second, grabbing Dagger Fang’s wrist mid-strike. With a powerful yank, he pulled the assassin closer and slammed his knee into his ribs. A sickening thud echoed through the ring, and Dagger Fang stumbled back, coughing. The crowd erupted.

But he wasn’t done yet.

With a snarl, Dagger Fang flipped backward, creating space between them. He wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and grinned. “Not bad. But you’re still too slow.”

Rohan barely saw him move before another slash cut across his shoulder. A second later, a kick to his ribs sent him skidding back. He exhaled sharply, feeling the dull throb of pain spreading through his torso.

He needed to end this—fast.

Dagger Fang lunged again, knives aiming for Rohan’s throat. But this time, Rohan didn’t retreat. He stepped into the attack, shocking his opponent. With a quick parry, he deflected one blade, then trapped the other arm against his own. Dagger Fang’s eyes widened as Rohan twisted his wrist with brutal force.

Crack!

The knife clattered to the floor, and Dagger Fang let out a strangled yell. Rohan capitalized on the moment, pivoting into a powerful right hook. His fist connected squarely with Dagger Fang’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground.

Silence.

Then—

The referee stepped in, checking the fallen fighter. After a few tense seconds, he raised his arm. “Winner—Ghost!”

The crowd exploded with cheers. Rohan stood over his opponent, panting, blood dripping from his shoulder and arms. He clenched his fists, feeling both exhilaration and exhaustion creeping in.

He had won.

But the tournament was far from over.