Chapter Seven: I Won't Join the Finals' Frenzy

Terras Devastadas: Uma Nova Aurora Li Mozhanghua 2842 words 2026-08-04 07:19:49

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I was just planning to find a quiet corner to rest when a figure suddenly blocked my path. He was half a head taller than me with broad shoulders, and his eyes glinted with a sharp, piercing light.

"You're impressive," he said slowly, his voice deep and resonant. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. I hope to see you again in the finals."

I looked up, frowning slightly, and muttered to myself: Who are you? Why are you acting so familiar? On the surface, however, I just gave a faint smile and said nothing, gently stepping aside to bypass him and continue on my way. Right now, I just wanted to find somewhere to lie down; there wasn't a single part of my body that didn't ache.

I lay quietly in a corner of the lounge, eyes closed, my face peaceful as if isolated from this clamorous world. Around me, the matches of other contestants were in full swing; the cheers and gasps of the audience wove together, yet they felt like distant wind brushing past my ears, failing to stir the slightest ripple in my heart.

"The internal injuries are recovering at a strange and slow rhythm. This... it seems some unknown power within me is at work. It appears my recovery from yesterday’s wounds was no accident. But even so, it will likely take another full day to heal completely. And I still have two matches ahead—the keys to the finals," I thought to myself.

I took a deep breath, brow furrowing. "The coming battles cannot afford any mistakes. I must seize the opponent's weakness and end it quickly at the first opportunity."

Just as I was immersed in the tranquility of self-restoration, an inexplicable chill suddenly struck. I tilted my head slightly and, through a sliver of my eyelids, vaguely saw that the man who had spoken to me earlier was not watching the matches. Instead, his gaze was like a torch, fixed intently on my direction.

I felt a mix of confusion and helplessness. "Does this guy have some kind of problem? Why does he keep staring at me?"

I shook my head slightly, thinking: "Brother, we have no grudges. Why be so antagonistic? I’m just here to compete and earn some money for food; there's no need to act like we're mortal enemies. You’re really overthinking this, you know? Life is hard enough as it is; why add to your own troubles?"

A faint, bitter smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Forget it. I’d better focus on healing and preparing for the next match." With that, I sank back into my state of self-restoration.

Just then, the cold and booming voice of the arena overseer pierced the din, striking my eardrums: "Next match, Tyr versus David!" My heart tightened. Finally, it was my turn.

I stood up slowly, pushing off the ground with my legs as if trying to trample all my tension and anxiety beneath my feet. I took a deep breath, my gaze gradually sharpening, and a cold, faint smirk played on my lips—a reflection of my hunger for victory. I strode forward, each step firm and powerful, heading straight for the center of the arena.

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Standing opposite me was the opponent named David. He was thin and did not look like a difficult challenge. I looked him up and down, a flash of disdain in my eyes, though it was quickly replaced by resolve. The entry ceremony was merely a formality; the real contest had already begun.

"Come on!" I moved, swift as a hunting leopard, and took the initiative. My footwork was agile, my body weaving left and right, making me unpredictable. David was clearly rattled by the sudden onslaught. He managed to block a few of my strikes in his panic, but it was already too late.

I seized the moment, lunged forward, and threw a punch with my right hand, gathering all my strength into a heavy blow to his abdomen. With a muffled thud, David’s body lost its balance like a sheet of paper, and he collapsed helplessly to the ground. Gasps erupted throughout the arena, while I stood motionless, my eyes gleaming with the cold edge of a ruthless fighter.

The overseer’s voice rang out, announcing my victory: "Tyr, winner!" I tilted my head slightly.

"Why was this round so weak?" I muttered to myself, a playful smile touching my lips. "It seems the first round was a setup, an attempt to intimidate a newcomer. Hmph, if every opponent were like this, the arena would have gone out of business long ago."

I brushed the dust off my clothes and turned toward the rest area, leaving behind a firm, solitary figure and the murmurs that echoed throughout the arena.

Time passed quickly. My heart began to race as the overseer called out the names: "Tyr, prepare to enter the arena!" This was the final round. The waiting hall was empty, with only a few people left. I knew this battle would determine whether I could step into the finals, which meant a handsome reward.

I took a deep breath, my eyes determined. I could not afford to fail now and let all my sweat and effort go to waste.

Stepping into the arena, I saw my opponent. He was burly with knotted muscles, much tougher than the previous few—he certainly looked like a finalist.

"Match start!" No sooner had the overseer’s voice faded than we collided like two beasts, fists whistling through the air and kicks blurring. After several intense exchanges, his breathing grew ragged, and his injuries began to show. I caught the brief moment he took to adjust his breath, a cold smirk appearing on my lips. My body accelerated suddenly, like a wild horse breaking its tether, charging straight at him.

"Hmph, now is the time," I thought.

I feigned a whirlwind kick, my body spinning in the air and whipping up a gust of wind. But the moment his eyes were drawn to my fake-out, I shifted my momentum. Instead of delivering that decisive kick, I fluidly transitioned into a powerful capoeira strike, slamming my foot into his head. He was completely caught off guard. His body tilted backward at an unnatural angle and he crashed heavily to the ground, sending dust billowing everywhere.

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I did not let my guard down, keeping my eyes locked on him like a torch to ensure he had no chance of a counterattack. Only when the overseer’s voice echoed across the arena—"The winner is—Tyr!"—did my tense nerves finally relax. A brilliant smile bloomed on my face, born from genuine joy and relief. I waved my arms excitedly, as if tossing all my pressure and exhaustion behind me.

Then, my eyes eagerly scanned the stands, longing to find that familiar figure—Hygieia. The crowd in the stands was bustling with cheers. I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Hygieia! Hygieia!" My voice laced with uncontrollable excitement. Finally, in the farthest corner of the stands, I saw her gentle face. She was watching me too, tears of excitement shimmering in her eyes.

I waved at her excitedly, shouting with all my might, "I won! We have the gold coins!" In that moment, I felt as if I could see our future, shining bright under the sun.

At the center of the arena, the overseer’s voice was deep and loud, cutting through the clamor of the crowd. "Next, the announcement of those advancing to the finals: Andrew, Aksu, Sargs, and—Tyr! The matchups are as follows: Andrew versus Tyr, Aksu versus Sargs."

The stands erupted in a buzz of discussion, especially when the duel between Aksu and Sargs was mentioned. The spectators were excited: "Aksu and Sargs, a clash of titans! Both are champions from previous years. They're meeting in the semifinals; one of them is going to be knocked out before the final four!"

I stood next to the other three, clearing my throat loudly, trying to make myself heard above the noise.

"Ahem... excuse me, Overseer. It's my first time participating, so I'm not familiar with your rules. I'd like to ask: if I forfeit now, can I still collect the prize money for reaching this stage?" As soon as I finished, the crowd fell silent for a moment before a few jeers and chuckles broke out. Some people even started whispering to each other, their eyes filled with ridicule.

A look of surprise flashed across the overseer's face. He turned to look at a prominent figure in the main viewing box, who gave a slight nod of agreement. The overseer, looking helpless yet faintly amused, replied, "According to the rules, you may indeed choose to forfeit and collect your prize money."

A relaxed smile appeared on my face, and I shrugged lightly. "Then it's settled! I won't join the fun in the finals. You guys have a good time; I'm off to collect my money!"

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving behind a stunned crowd, a bewildered overseer, and those still savoring the words I had just spoken.