CHAPTER 42: REGISTRATION

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Explanation of Rank Board.

(What Does the Rank Board Mean in the Arena:

In the Forge Arena, the Rank Board is the official registry of recognized beast tamers and their combat standings. Being on the rank board is not just a symbol of prestige, it’s a declaration that a tamer is part of the official ladder of competitive combat in Emberfall.

To be placed on the Rank Board, a tamer must:

Register for a Ranked Match: You must officially enter the ranked circuit by challenging a recognized combatant in a regulated match. Demo battles, like Zephyr’s first one against the wild Ash Scale Monitor, don’t count. Those are considered exhibition fights and don’t affect rankings.

Win a Public, Sanctioned Fight: A match must be observed, logged, and validated by arena scribes. The opponent must be another registered tamer (not a wild beast) who already holds a position on the board or is entering it at the same time.

Survive and Leave a Mark: Performance matters. A close win may get you listed near the bottom, while a decisive, skillful victory, especially against a higher ranked opponent can shoot you up multiple positions. Spectator reaction, beast performance, and use of command skills all influence the score.

Be Evaluated by Arena Judges: A panel part magical, part bureaucratic grades the match. This system records tamers battle record, tamers beast’s condition post-match, and how efficiently they fought. Dirty tricks don’t earn much, but brilliance? That earns fast track placements.

Why Does It Matters?

Access to Elite Resources: Ranked tamers get better gear discounts, invitation only breeding opportunities, and permission to enter higher stakes tournaments to earn big amounts.

Prestige and Power: Guilds recruit directly from the rank board. Names at the top can command loyalty or fear.

Protection: Tamers on the board are harder to mess with. Assaulting a registered rank holder outside the arena is treated as criminal provocation by the free city.

For someone like Zephyr, stepping onto the rank board isn’t just about pride. It’s the first real claim of territory in a world built on flame, teeth, and dominance.

And from this point on, every fight he enters will either push him up... or threaten to bury him alive. )

Back to the story.

The clerk raised an eyebrow, now slightly more awake. He leaned back, reaching behind to flick through a stack of wax sealed tablets, each one etched with the arena’s morning match roster.

"Alright... Rank-F challengers, hmm... looks like we got a slot at the sixth bell. The opponent is a regular. Name: Dorian Slate, Rank-E tamer. Beast type: Gravelback Pangolin, burrow specialist, armor plated from snout to tail. Difficult to injure, low aggression but high endurance."

Zephyr’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Book it. I can handle him."

The clerk paused with the stylus midair. "You sure, kid? That’s not like yesterday."

Zephyr didn’t flinch. "I know."

Yesterday, in that same arena, he and Star had faced an Ash Scale Monitor, a powerful, lava blooded beast, yes but wild, untethered, without the advantages of a trainer’s command aura or tactical coordination. The Monitor had been strong, but predictable. It had fought on instinct. Its focus could be broken. Its attacks could be baited.

Zephyr had known when it would strike and how to finish it. But today... Today he would be up against a tamer, someone with training, strategy, and the ability to issue live commands. Someone who wouldn’t simply charge but anticipate, someone whose beast would fight not like a lone predator, but like half of a unit of a living weapon sharpened by human direction.

This was a different kind of battle.

Behind his ribs, Star stirred, letting out a quiet growl, tail flicking against Zephyr’s back. His breath carried the scent of fresh flame, but it was shallow. Weak. The bandage over his flank pressed against Zephyr’s shoulder uncomfortably.

A small system prompt blinked into the corner of Zephyr’s vision:

[Ding! System Warning-

Beast Partner Condition: 72% Vital Efficiency

Status: Healing. Burn damage sustained.

Risk Factor: Elevated, Reduced stamina, limited Dash efficiency, impaired altitude gain.]

Proceed with Ranked Match?

[Y] / [N]

Zephyr stared at it, his eyes sharp as steel. "Yes, I want to fight. I just need one match to enter my name on the rank board. After that I will let Star rest for a few days."

The system chimed softly, as if judging him.

The clerk scrawled a charcoal mark across the sixth bell line and handed back a stamped talon etched chip. It was Zephyr’s match token.

"Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Hollowback’s master," the clerk muttered, sliding the board aside. "Dorian Slate’s a grinder. Doesn’t go flashy, just wears his opponent down. You better hope your little beasts got fire left in him."

Zephyr took the token and turned away without answering. He already knew what was left in Star. Just enough...Enough for a fight. He needed to earn some silver coins fast. He needed resources. And maybe... just maybe, enough to start burning Ayan Vaelor’s world to ash.

Soon, The sixth bell rang, its deep chime echoing through the basalt spires of the Forge Arena like the final call of a warhorn.

Beneath the roar, the vent gates hissed open. It was thin slits in the ring’s obsidian walls unleashing jets of heat laced wind. Firelight burst into the bowl from beneath the sand, casting long, dancing shadows across the scorched floor. The arena groaned to life.

Zephyr stood in the western tunnel, alone but for Star on his shoulder. The young drake’s weight felt heavier today, his body still recovering. But his eyes held the same ember edge as they had the night before, a readiness that outshone pain.

The stone gate creaked open ahead. Heat punched into Zephyr’s face, dry and biting. He stepped forward into the sand, boots crunching against the glass speckled floor, remnants of yesterday’s many battles, heat vents having flash melted the arena’s topsoil. The surface was jagged in places, smooth in others, a field forged in chaos.