CHAPTER 105: LET THE GAME BEGIN!

Clapping sound filled the Martial Hall as two men, one from the Radiant Palm and the other from the Iron Body, walked out of the platform unharmed.

Gazing at the face of the huge-lipped guy sitting at his left, Kai frowned, then tilted his gaze from the guy.

’I wish I can meet him one on one,’ he said in his thought.

The chime sound of the coordinators cut through the air, silencing every mouth. No name was spoken, but Kai felt disturbed.

"Next Match: Iron Body & Shadow Cult."

Silence swallowed the hall like fire, letting Kai’s hard swallow sound as if a woofer was installed in him.

Kai didn’t move, neither did Jim. Both of them stood there, staring at each other, as if the cord binding them to their souls had been torn.

"You’re representing," Jim said, face tensed.

"Me?" Kai asked, thoughts reeling like a rolling disc inside him.

"Yes, go." Jim said, gesturing for the boy to move to the platform.

Faces turned on him like holes in the net, crushing down, so down his boots felt heavier for the first time.

Nothing was more menacing than seeing the murderous and merciless Iron Body guy also walking toward the platform.

"...tell your master he’s out of the league this time, kid."

"...yeah. If I were you, I would’ve neared the coordinators and made them pronounce Iron Body as the winner."

"...yeah. No matter how much we feared you, we now have someone to whom all the nation’s strongest would fear."

"...don’t have mercy like you did on the Whispering Wing boy."

Sweat traced down Kai’s face, tugging at the strands of hair covering his face.

Reaching the platform and nearing the entrance, he closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, then entered, cracking his eyes open.

For the first five minutes, Kai and the merciless guy stood at the opposite ends of the platform, staring at each other.

Though Kai could see glows around everyone he moved past, stayed with, or even saw walking in the hall, he couldn’t see any glow around the Iron Body guy.

The white light shimmering from above and below the platform dimmed, letting their faces brighten as torch-like light fell on them.

At the far side of the platform, three men, one from each cult, sat in the three chairs that had a cloth of their colors placed on.

Seeing the chair with the Shadow Cult being empty, Kai tilted his gaze to where Jim stood, then shook his head after finding no one there.

"Hey kiddo," the Iron Body guy said, his voice cutting deep into Kai’s mind like a two-edged blade.

"What’s your name?" he added, moving five steps forward.

"...yeah tell him your name. We need to add yours to those he’d already beaten so far."

"...key Shadow Cult boy! Don’t stand there as if you’re dumb and can’t hear our voices."

"...or have you peed yourself like the last but one opponent did?"

"...haha. I think he had."

Kai tilted his gaze from the opponent closing in slowly, glanced at the faces of those whose voices echoed the most.

’What are the rules of this tournament?’ he thought.

"Hey kiddo," the Iron Body guy said, closing in with the boy. "Don’t worry about anything. You can even fly if you can."

Hearing the guy’s voice, Kai blinked, feeling shocked to hear an answer for what he never spoke out loud.

On the seventh minute, Kai saw the three men sitting in the chairs placed outside the cage, passing a signed document.

All three shook their heads, raised a hand, and then showed a thumbs-up to the coordinators sitting at the top flow of the room, where the lights threw from.

The chime echoed, followed by a diluted silence that made even the creaking chains wrapped around the platform stop shaking.

"Let the game begin!"

Immediately the voice of the coordinators faded. Kai saw a smirk from the Iron Body guy. As he moved back, placing his steps slowly, the guy also doubled up.

And for a fleeting second, a loud crashing sound filled the air, letting a swell of dust spiral around where Kai was earlier.

The audience rose up, clapping, as they saw the Shadow Cult boy lying on the platform’s ground motionless.

"...I told you he’s nothing but a stand of a broomstick."

"...Is he dead after receiving that one strike EK used on SK’s senior brother and still survived the match equally?"

"...how I wish I’m the one fighting the boy – I would have stepped on his neck and broken it like he did to SK’s arm."

"...this shows how weak the Shadow Cults are – they are nothing but fearful individuals."

"...no wonder their time moves slower than ours."

One by one the dust settled down, falling on the unmoving body of the boy on the platform.

The Iron Body guy moved back flaunting, stretching his arms in the air and winding his body, dancing to the tune of the cheering sounds.

Two of the two men serving as the signatories for each cult raised their right arms, ever ready to call the match to an end.

But as the third person, who sat in the Whispering Wind seat, moved his hand slightly, he smiled.

...

Kai coughed, letting the dust that had settled spiral back in the air. Slowly, he stood up, as if he wasn’t the same person who had lain on the ground like a corpse.

He shook his head, letting the dust that had clung to his hair splash out, then brushed his palms across his face, clearing the blood dressing his lips.

Little by little, the cheering sound dimmed, letting the Iron Body guy turn sharply.

He smiled, "...it’s good you have woken up. I didn’t get to hear your name."

He moved forward again, this time, not in the lightning speed he used at first.

"Once I know your name, I promise to let you sleep till your bones rot," he said, opened his arms wide, then smiled.

Looking at the Iron Body guy with his slightly blurry vision, memories of the words his mother left for him reappeared in his mind so visibly he saw them moving in front of him:

My son. You are special. I feel it. Your eyes are a gift, not a curse as others say. You’re not a monster also.

Don’t hide them. Live. Fight. Become so strong that nothing can break you. Stronger so you don’t lose to anyone, not even to yourself. That’s what your father and I would want. So strong that no one can hurt you or get something from you freely.

Immediately his eyes fell on the last three words. He saw a clenched fist slammed through the words, cracking and letting them scatter like glass.

The three-letter word "you" flew to his face, stinging him before the punch could even reach the tip of his nose.

The moment everyone thought the Shadow Cult had finally lost to the Iron Body Cult after decades of years, a shockwave flashed through their spines like fire.

On the platform, where air seemed to be paused, Kai stood there, his eyes closed, not breathing.

And in front of him, the Iron Body guy stood there completely shocked. His clenched right fist, which had slammed the boy minutes ago, remained in the same boy’s custody like a broken stick.

He couldn’t pull himself back, neither could he add another arm.

A cracking sound echoed as Kai lessened the grip he had laid on the Iron guy’s fist. Not only did Kai block the death strike, his index and middle fingers had ducked a hole in the guy’s chest, almost scraping their way through his body.

Blood sprayed on Kai’s face as he pulled his arms back.

The guy, whom everyone had feared to fight, stood there, whirling around like a rootless tree.

The Iron Body guy collapses to his knees, one hand clutching the hole in his chest, the other trembling violently as if trying to understand how a boy he mocked had reduced his iron-hardened body to pulp.

The hall went quiet, so quiet it felt as if the devil had visited them.

Dozens of the spectators, especially the Iron Body cult groups, froze, their mouths open and forgetting how to close them.

In the mirrored balcony at the top of the hall, the coordinators stood up so fast their chairs banged against the walls.

Tiny sparks of dust spun in the air and tilted toward the ground beneath the mirrored balcony.

All three representatives sitting by the platform leaned forward instinctively as if dragged by invisible strings.

...

At the side of the entrance, before the Radiant Palm guy with large lips could say a word, Jim walked out.

Dust spiralled at Jim’s front as he walked through the courtyard of the temple.

A few meters away from the main entrance of the temple, three men; one wearing a military uniform, while the other two wore black uniforms, with a big G imprinted on their chests.

Behind the three men, countless men holding guns of different textures and natures entered through the open temple entrance.

Jim smiled, seeing the three men closing in on him.

"Marcus," Jim said, feeling a bit dissatisfied, seeing the number of men holding the guns.

"Why bring an army of giants when facing one ant?" Jim gasped, then brushed his left palm across his face.

At the far distance from Jim, Clara stood by the side of a pillar, fear gripping her like sea breeze.