Chapter 12 - Shared Struggle

  Moments before Yumiko’s fight, Lukas and his opponent, Benny the Boulder, stood locked in a silent stare-down. The air between them was heavy with tension, the roar of the crowd a distant hum in Lukas’ ears. He forced himself upright, muscles screaming in protest, the cursed armor weighing on him like chains forged from his own agony. Every movement felt like dragging a mountain, but he refused to kneel.

  From the stands, a voice rang out with excitement.

  "The Golden Warrior has stood up! The fight against Benny the Boulder is on! The armor looks like it’s taking its toll! Place your bets!" Remos bellowed, stirring the crowd into a frenzy.

  Lukas barely acknowledged the cheers. His focus was singular. Tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword, he pushed forward, launching himself toward Benny with everything he had left. The pain was a distant afterthought—this needed to end now.

  With a mighty swing, Lukas brought his sword crashing down.

  Benny’s eyes widened as the blade struck the ground, splintering the stone in a spiderweb of cracks and sending a violent tremor through the colosseum floor. The impact alone forced Benny back a step, but he quickly regained his footing, a smirk creeping across his face.

  "That armor’s more troublesome than I thought by giving you that strength… but the real question is, how long can you last?" Benny taunted, his sharp eyes locking onto Lukas' strained breaths. "From what I’ve seen so far, you’ve definitely slowed down."

  Lukas didn't answer. Instead, he tightened his grip on the blade and lunged again.

  Benny reacted instantly, scooping up a discarded war hammer from the ground. He raised it just in time, catching Lukas’ downward strike on the shaft of the weapon. A blinding clash of steel against steel erupted, sending sparks flying in every direction. The sheer force of the collision sent a shockwave rippling through the arena, rattling the stone beneath them.

  Benny gritted his teeth, his arms straining against the pressure. "Sorry, but there’s something you should know about me—" His feet dug into the ground, and with a powerful shove, he threw Lukas backward.

  "I am the strongest at Level Nine!" he roared.

  Lukas' boots skidded across the floor, dragging a fifty-foot trail in the dust before he finally stopped. He barely had a moment to react before—CRACK! His sword shattered, the pieces falling to the ground. Lukas stared at the broken hilt in his hands, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

  Benny let out a hearty laugh. "Looks like your strength was too much for that junk!" He took a step forward, rolling his shoulders. "But y'know, I prefer this. How about we settle this the old fashioned way?" With a grin, he let the war hammer clatter to the ground.

  Lukas exhaled sharply, his legs trembling beneath him. He let the remains of his sword fall from his fingers.

  The pain lanced through his body like fire. His vision blurred. His stomach convulsed. He collapsed to one knee, his breath hitching—then, with a sickening lurch, he vomited blood onto the stone floor.

  Benny’s grin faltered for half a second. He thought about waiting for Lukas, but this was too good of an opportunity, he charged, jumping into the air with a loud battlecry.

  Lukas barely had time to react before Benny was above him with his fists drawn back. The large man descended like a meteor aimed straight for Lukas’ skull.

  Lukas' instincts screamed at him, and at the last possible second, he threw himself to the side, fighting past the pain in his body. Benny's fist slammed into the ground like a battering ram, pulverizing the spot where Lukas had just been. The stone floor buckled inward, forming a crater beneath his knuckles.

  Before Lukas could recover, Benny lifted his leg high, bringing it down in a brutal stomp.

  Lukas rolled—just in time. The ground erupted beneath Benny’s foot, sending a web of cracks sprawling outward.

  Benny lifted his leg to deliver another crushing stomp, but a powerful gust of wind tore through the colosseum, kicking up dust and blinding him momentarily. He instinctively raised an arm to shield his eyes, staggering as the force threw him slightly off balance.

  Seizing the moment, Lukas surged forward, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. He clenched his fist and drove it into Benny’s stomach with a brutal force that cracked the man's armor like brittle stone. Benny’s eyes bulged in shock as the impact sent him hurtling backward, his body slamming into the arena floor with a thunderous crash that echoed through the stands.

  Lukas exhaled sharply, shaking his aching hand, unprepared for just how much power he had put behind that strike. His breathing was raspy, and his sight continued to blur in and out. He turned his head toward the source of the sudden gust, eyes locking onto a lone figure clad in Eastern-style armor, face hidden beneath a veil of cloth. The stance, the aura—it was unmistakable.

  "Yumiko?" he breathed in disbelief.

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  The roaring crowd drowned out any further thoughts. His mind raced, but there was no time to dwell on why she was here, or why she was in disguise.

  From the ground where he had landed, Benny groaned, clutching his ribs as he pushed himself upright. He spat a curse between gritted teeth, his glare sharp with unrestrained fury. "You… bastard…" His breath came in ragged gasps.

  Lukas started toward him, but the moment he moved, the cursed armor tightened around him like a vice. His legs buckled, his strength draining away faster than he could will himself forward.

  Benny saw his chance once more. His eyes flicked to a discarded shield lying nearby, and with a grunt, he grabbed it and hurled it straight at Lukas. It cut through the air like a spinning blade.

  Lukas raised his arms in a desperate block, but the sheer force of the throw was overwhelming. The shield crashed past his defense, slamming into his chin with a sickening crack. His head snapped back, and his body followed, collapsing to the ground.

  The crowd erupted in another wave of frenzied cheers, their excitement undeterred by the brutality of the match.

  Benny wasted no time. With a roar, he lunged forward and threw his full weight onto Lukas, pinning him down. Lukas thrashed beneath him, trying to shake him off, but Benny was like an iron boulder pressing him into the dirt. The larger man grinned wickedly, raising his fists high before bringing them down in relentless, hammering blows.

  Lukas gritted his teeth, shielding his face as best as he could, but the strikes were unrelenting. Each impact rattled his skull, sent shockwaves of pain through his body. Some punches slipped past his guard, slamming into his jaw, his ribs, his temple. The world blurred.

  From above, the announcer’s voice cut through the chaos.

  "It looks as though Benny has The Golden Warrior trapped! How will he escape this one?!" Remos bellowed, his voice alive with excitement.

  The crowd was divided—some watching in exhilaration, others wincing at the sheer brutality of the beatdown.

  Kenwick leaned forward, observing the match with a satisfied smirk. "The crowd is full of emotions today," he murmured, eyes darting between the two struggling fighters below.

  Lukas' vision swam. His breathing was ragged, his arms numb from absorbing the repeated blows. He needed a way out—any way out. But the armor was sapping his strength, every second he grew weaker.

  Then, the announcer’s voice rang out again, this time louder, more triumphant.

  "The Ninja from the East is victorious! Give it up for Justin Schwag, everyone!" The crowd exploded into a deafening roar.

  For a brief second, Benny’s focus wavered. His head jerked up toward the stands, distracted by the announcement. That split-second was all Lukas needed.

  With every ounce of remaining strength, he twisted his body and drove a desperate punch into Benny’s jaw. The force knocked Benny backward, rolling him off of Lukas. Wasting no time, Lukas followed up with a powerful kick, slamming his boot into Benny’s side and sending the larger man sprawling across the stone floor.

  Lukas pushed himself up, but the moment he moved, a fresh wave of agony surged through his body—not just from Benny’s attacks, but from the armor itself. His muscles screamed in protest, searing pain burning through every fiber of his being. His vision darkened at the edges.

  "No…" he panted, voice barely above a whisper. "I can’t stop now…"

  From the stands, Luchs’ sharp eyes narrowed as he noticed something unusual. Wisps of smoke—thin, dark, almost ethereal—were beginning to rise from the cursed armor.

  Before Lukas or Benny could rise, a deafening explosion rocked the stage from Yumiko’s fight. A thick plume of smoke erupted, engulfing everything in a blinding haze. Lukas instinctively shielded his face as the crowd erupted in a chaotic mix of screams—some panicked, others exhilarated.

  "Yumiko!" he yelled with panic, his voice straining against the uproar. He struggled to push himself up, but his legs refused to cooperate, trembling beneath him. "I will not… I will not lose two friends in one fight!" he roared, forcing his battered body upright.

  A sudden brilliance flared from the crystals embedded in his armor, their eerie glow intensifying as more steam emerged from his body. It was no longer just draining his strength or his mana—it was siphoning his very life force.

  Through the swirling darkness, Benny's guttural voice rang out. "Where… where are you?" He coughed, waving his arms to clear the smoke.

  Lukas spotted him staggering forward, his heavy footsteps echoing through the arena. In the distance, he could hear Yumiko’s faint, ragged coughs. His jaw clenched. I’ll have to deal with this brute first before I can get her out of here…

  As the last remnants of the explosion dissipated, thin tendrils of steam curled from Lukas’s body, trailing into the open air. The audience erupted in renewed excitement, sensing the battle was far from over.

  From his seat above, Kenwick leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he observed the wisps of smoke rising from Lukas’s armor. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “So… he has chosen death. Interesting.”

  Lukas struggled to stand up right. The weight of the armor was unbearable now, crushing him from the inside out.

  "Lukas!" Yumiko called, urgency woven into her tone.

  Only a handful of fighters remained. Despite her injured foot, Yumiko moved with unwavering resolve, weaving through the chaos. She seized one opponent by the arm, pivoted, and slammed him into the ground with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs. His body shimmered before vanishing, teleported off the stage in defeat.

  She pushed forward, but before she could reach Lukas, a jagged rock wall erupted from the ground, cutting her off.

  "He’s mine!" Benny snarled, spitting onto the stone. He was battered, breathing heavily, and on the verge of collapse—but he was still standing, still two ranks higher than her. He was not going down without a fight.

  From behind the wall, Lukas exhaled sharply to Yumiko. “Stay out of this, warrior.” He yelled, not trying to reveal her identity.

  Yumiko’s fists tightened as she watched him struggle to remain upright. His movements were sluggish, his balance unsteady—he was barely holding on. Her gaze flickered downward. Her foot throbbed, still sprained and swollen, but she had an idea. If she used her magic to lift herself slightly, reducing the pressure on her injury, she could move more freely. More importantly, Lukas could use the time to rest.

  She could challenge Benny for him. And once the brute was out of the way, she would simply step off the stage, disqualifying herself, giving Lukas a sure win.

  She took a breath, steeling herself. “Let me handle the brute.” She said, staring at the fuming Benny. She was not going to have Lukas die. She was not going to see her dream of him lying on the ground dead come true.