The Fire Before the Storm

The Colosseum hummed with anticipation. The echoes of Mortis's latest victory still lingered in the air, but the crowd's attention had already shifted to the next battle.

Daniel Asomndes versus Lucian Voss.

Mortis stepped off the dueling platform, his mind still replaying his fight against Rael Valen. Despite the battle-mage's skill, he had ultimately been no match. Mortis knew his own power, but he also knew Daniel's. His true challenge was yet to come.

From his place at the arena's edge, he fixed his gaze on Daniel as his rival stepped onto the dueling platform. Daniel's dark flames coiled around him like living shadows, licking at the air with restrained hunger. Across from him, Lucian Voss—a brutal combatant known for his immense physical strength and resilience—cracked his knuckles, the sound like stones grinding together.

The announcer's voice rang out. "Final match of the semi-finals! Daniel Asomndes of Myriad Demons Academy versus Lucian Voss of the Cult of Eternal Damnation!"

A hushed silence fell over the Colosseum before the gong sounded.

Lucian moved first, charging forward with a burst of raw physical might. His body pulsed with necrotic energy, his fists coated in a deathly aura meant to rot flesh on contact. He swung a crushing blow toward Daniel's ribs, aiming to end the fight with brute force.

But Daniel was already gone.

A flicker of movement, a flash of fire, and he reappeared behind Lucian, his hands wreathed in infernal flames. With a savage grin, he thrust a palm forward, unleashing a torrent of black fire.

Lucian spun on instinct, throwing up a barrier of necrotic energy. The flames met the shield, crackling violently as dark energy fought against dark energy. The two forces clashed, sending shockwaves rippling across the platform. The crowd gasped as the air between them distorted, both combatants refusing to yield.

But Daniel had the advantage. His magic was not just darkness—it was hellfire, flames that consumed everything in their path. He shifted his stance, forcing more power into his attack. The black flames twisted and roared, breaking through Lucian's defenses. The necromancer let out a strangled growl as the fire seared his flesh, driving him back.

Daniel didn't let up. He surged forward, his footwork precise, his strikes merciless. A backhanded blast sent Lucian skidding across the platform, barely staying on his feet. Daniel raised a hand, fingers curling as he prepared to finish it.

"Hellstorm."

A vortex of black fire spiraled to life around Lucian, swallowing him whole.

The explosion was deafening.

When the flames dissipated, Lucian lay motionless, his robes scorched, his breathing shallow. He was defeated.

Silence fell.

Then—

"The winner is Daniel Asomndes!" the announcer declared.

The Colosseum erupted in cheers.

Mortis exhaled slowly. He had known Daniel would win. There was never any doubt.

But now, it was confirmed. The final match was set.

Mortis Nacht versus Daniel Asomndes.

As Daniel stepped down from the platform, he met Mortis's gaze. For a brief moment, they simply stared at each other. No words were spoken, but the meaning was clear.

Soon.

The break before the finals was short. The remaining time was meant for recuperation, but Mortis used it for something else—preparation.

In the shadowed halls of the Colosseum, he leaned against a stone pillar, eyes closed, his mind sifting through every battle he had seen from Daniel. Strength, speed, precision—Daniel excelled in them all. But he wasn't invincible.

A presence neared. Mortis opened his eyes.

Selene Graves.

Her arms were crossed, her expression unreadable. "He won't hold back against you."

"I know."

She studied him for a moment before speaking again. "I underestimated you once. I won't make that mistake again. Neither will he."

Mortis nodded but said nothing.

Selene hesitated, then scoffed. "Don't lose."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him alone once more.

Soon enough, the final call echoed through the Colosseum.

"The final battle of the tournament is upon us! Mortis Nacht versus Daniel Asomndes!"

Mortis stepped onto the platform, his black coat billowing behind him. Across from him, Daniel grinned, rolling his shoulders as dark flames crackled around his hands.

"This is it," Daniel said, his voice thick with anticipation. "No more holding back."

Mortis met his gaze. "I never intended to."

The gong sounded.

Daniel moved first, vanishing in a blur of dark flames. He reappeared mid-air, launching a barrage of firebolts downward. Mortis sidestepped, shadows twisting beneath him as he countered with a volley of his own—arcs of lightning crackling through the air.

The two forces collided, explosions erupting across the battlefield.

Daniel landed, his fist cloaked in hellfire. He lunged, swinging for Mortis's head.

Mortis twisted, dodging by a hair's breadth, then retaliated with a burst of shadow tendrils. Daniel ducked and countered, summoning a wall of flame to incinerate the tendrils before they could reach him.

They clashed again, their movements a blur of magic and speed. Fire met lightning. Darkness met darkness. The battlefield trembled beneath their power.

Then, Mortis saw it.

An opening.

He moved, stepping into Daniel's blind spot. Shadow Veil concealed his presence for a fraction of a second—just enough.

He struck.

A pulse of raw magic surged from his palm, hitting Daniel square in the chest.

Daniel staggered, his flames flickering.

But he grinned. "Good."

Then he exploded.

Black fire erupted around them both, swallowing the battlefield in an infernal storm. The force sent Mortis skidding back, his cloak singed, his heartbeat steady but heightened.

Daniel stood at the center of the blaze, eyes burning with dark glee.

"This," he breathed, "is going to be fun."

Mortis steadied himself, eyes locked onto his rival.

The finals had truly begun.