CHAPTER 110: BLOOD & BRIMSTONE, ACT I

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He whispered half-dream to Fenna. "When dust settles— our guild. (Emberkind.) Training novices, protecting wild beasts."

She hummed approval. "And... What about our wedding?"

Heat flushed his cheeks in the dark. "Let’s not talk about that. You know I like you. But first we must get stronger. Then we will be together."

Her thumb traced his jaw. "I already found my sky." She pressed a gentle kiss to his collarbone, breath warm. Aurora stirred, chirped— then dozed again.

Zephyr’s eyelids finally sagged. "Tomorrow we win."

"Tomorrow," Fenna echoed.

The house creaked softly; city lamplighters shouted last calls; fog rolled low through alleys. In the Flintfeather courtyard, Star lifted his head at distant thunder— perhaps an omen, perhaps forge carts. He yawned smoke, watched a meteor streak across zenith, then settled once more, tail curling around the courtyard gate.

Destiny softened into the hush of crickets and far off river hum. And under the shelter of Fenna’s uncle’s roof, a phoenix legend reborn and a dragon fledgling dreamed beside the two tamers who would unleash them on a stage of fire and fate.

The march to victory resumed with first light, the city would soon learn. And no chain of pride or coin could shackle flame once freed.

A few hours later....

First light fog hugged Emberfall city’s forge tier like a quilt of breath, turning furnace chimneys into ghostly spires. By the time the sixth bell rang, the boulevards funneling toward the Forge Arena choked with spectators— smith apprentices still dusted in coal, silk robed merchants eager for wagers, and gutter urchins climbing lamp posts for a glimpse of bloodsport.

From a private courtyard behind Dale & Daughter, Zephyr tightened the final buckle on Star’s new shoulder guard— scaled leather backed by thin ember steel strips. The drake, now a full two meters long, flexed wings that spanned almost three and a half; the healed scar on his left flank glowed only a faint rose, like cooled forge-mark.

A quiet ding ghosted across Zephyr’s vision:

[Partner Status: Star — Drake Fledgling (Rank D Core, 90 % integrity)

Wingspan: 2.5 meter

Core Grade: Level D

Stats: Strength 100, Fire 100, Wing Power 100, Agility 100, Sense 100,

Abilities: Spark Dash, Ember Trail, Tremor, Dominance(Lv2), Sense, Fireball, Ember Lance, Infernal Ring. ]

"Ready?" he murmured.

Star rumbled, sulfur breath misting the dawn air.

Fenna fastened her quiver, then straightened Zephyr’s collar with an unnecessary gesture, but one that steadied her trembling hands. Aurora perched on her shoulder, lava fleck wings half open for balance. The phoenix chick chirped a note that glowed like a sunrise bell; sparks floated away and winked out.

Uncle Arlen handed Zephyr a flask. "Spar root tea. Sips only— too much’ll jitter your timing."

"Where is Luke, Mira?" Zephyr asked.

"Gate Three," Fenna said. "Med packs, antidotes, plus Mira brewed a Mana Shock poultice if Ayan tries to use any poison tricks."

A carriage rumble drew their attention: a lacquered onyx coach trimmed in gilded brass rolled past the side lane, escorted by city watch in Phoenix Ring livery— ruby cloaks, strong scale greaves. Through the barred window Zephyr caught a glimpse of emerald eyes and a sneer half hidden by bandage tape.

Ayan Vaelor, arriving like spoiled royalty.

Arlen snorted. "He bribed half the magistrate’s nephews for prime staging. Heard he hired the city herald to hype him."

"All the money in the world won’t stop his fall," Fenna said, flat and cold.

They walked.

The Forge Arena looming ahead looked freshly oiled, its basalt arches glistening. Vendor stalls hawked flame-custard buns and mini rune-flags bearing Ayan’s serpent crest. Few dared sell Hollowback merchandise— moonlight artisans hadn’t had time to sew new heroes overnight.

Inside the north gate, marble corridors hummed with chanting: "VAE-lor! VAE-lor!" The chant pulsed like anvils, orchestrated by paid rabble rousers waving crimson pennants. Zephyr felt the vibration in his teeth.

Gate warden Captain Sova —a hawk nosed woman in crimson plate— met them with a neutral expression. "Board probation note still stands," she said quietly. "Beast health check?"

Zephyr presented Judge Varis’s clearance scroll; a healer rune flashed approval when scanned across Star’s flank. Sova gave a curt nod. "Good. Official match time 08:04. You’ll take Tunnel West."

She lowered her voice further. "Off the record... watch your flank at intros. Someone in the press booth ’misfiled’ your intro rune; crowd screens may... underplay you."

"Paid sabotage?" Fenna hissed.

Sova’s lips twitched. "Arena politics. But once the bell rings, steel and flame speak truer than gold."

They passed.

The western staging tunnel smelled of old scorched blood and fresh pitch. Bronze braziers flickered every ten paces, their light mixing with steam venting from seam grates. Zephyr rolled shoulders, loosening tension; the Emberforged bo staff rode across his back like a memory of training nights.

Star padded beside him, his tail never quite still, like a live fuse. Every so often the drake’s molten gaze flicked to Zephyr, a silent "I’m here." That alone steadied the tamer’s heartbeat.

Fenna and Aurora were escorted to the tactician balcony, upper ring. Aurora squawked indignantly at the parting, but Fenna whispered a command phrase —Guard the hearts— and the chick complied, alighting on the rail above Luke’s healer kit.

They exchanged one last look before distance and stone swallowed them.

The arena center blazed under some bright arrays of rune mirrors. Seventy foot stands roared with 8,000 throats.

The chief herald, a portly man in a phoenix feather cape whose pockets bulged suspiciously, stepped into the spotlight rune. His voice boomed, magically amplified:

"Honored patrons of EMBERFALL CITY!

The main bout—A KNOT OF FEUD UNBOUND!

In the Southern Circle, scion of the Phoenix Ring, undefeated showman, patron of shadow flame... Ayan VAE-LOR!"

Drums rolled. A portion of the floor irised open; a lift platform rose, bearing Ayan in emerald lamellar trimmed gold. At his left heel padded the Shadow Leopard Rank D— eyes twin moons of malice. At his right slithered a second beast: Emberhide Basilisk, rank D+, scales shimmering like rusted mirrors.

Gasps rippled. Two beasts? The duel code allowed one primary and one reserve if declared pre match and if fees were paid. Money solved many bylaws.

Ayan bowed theatrically, bruise on his jaw disguised under alchemic tint. He raised a fist; coins showered from hired attendants into the lower stands and the crowd roared greedily.

"And in the Northern Circle —newly minted Rank-F probationer, challenger of grit— Zephyr... Va-lo...rian. "

The herald’s pause, the mispronunciation, and the clipped cadence all signaled contempt. A smattering of polite applause; louder jeers.

But when Star stalked into view —sleek, obsidian plates throwing back furnace light— gasps replaced jeers. He might be young, but a rank-D drake was still a drake.

Zephyr didn’t bow. He simply set feet shoulder-width, staff vertical like planted banner. The crowd’s noise washed over him like smithy white-noise.

Judge Varis took central dais flanked by Judges Nola and Bragg. Varis raised a rune spear; its tip sparked crimson.

"Terms accepted. One tamer may field one beast at a time. Victory by submission, incapacitation, or concession. Lethal strikes discouraged but adjudicated. Board probation: challenger’s beast must not fall below 20 % vitals."

Then he lowered his spear. "BEGIN."

The arena floor flared, runes like molten lattice marking boundaries.

Tuk! Tuk!

Ayan clicked tongues twice. The Shadow Leopard vanished —literally— its outline diffusing into heat shadow. Simultaneously the Basilisk lumbered forward, shoulder scales grinding, acting as walking shields.

"A classic pincer," Judge Nola murmured above.

Zephyr’s system blinked:

[Ding! System notifications: Camouflage Field Detected — tracking penalty 35 %.]

He inhaled. "Star—Torch Spiral, low altitude!"

The drake dashed, kicking off a vent to spin airborne. A tight spiral of Ember Trail ignited behind, a luminous helix swirling three meters high.

Glass sand fused where flame kissed. The Basilisk hissed, forced to halt. Shadow flicker glimmers traced leopard motion— but the spiraling flame wall foiled its silent approach.

Crowd noise bumped up a notch. Even Judge Bragg’s eyebrow ticked. "Creative ring fence."

Ayan smirked unfazed. He snapped two copper rings on his gauntlet— mana spike. "Basilisk, use EARTH BURST."

The ground bulged beneath Zephyr; a geyser of molten gravel erupted, aiming to break his legs. He vaulted, staff planting on geyser rim, flipping clear— but sparks clipped his boot, singing leather.

Star shrieked— fireball blooming to intercept gravel shards pelting Fenna’s balcony behind. Luke raised a healer shield rune just in time; shards pinged harmless.

Varis frowned— Ayan flirting with audience harm already.

Back on sand, Zephyr rolled, his wooden staff guarding. Heat shimmer made air swim.

A faint hiss— Zephyr’s only warning. Camouflage strike. He twisted but claws raked his shoulder guard, sparks flying. Star roared, hooking a wing in between; but the leopard had already used the blink step, leaving only dark mist.

Blood seeped through linen; not deep, but sting enough.

[System ping: HP – 6 %. Adrenal Boost threshold met.]

Zephyr murmured: "Dominance Aura— Pulse!"

A golden ripple burst from his chest, flaring runes on his staff. The leopard reappeared five meters away, staggered by the shock.