Chapter 21 – The Final League

The higher leagues were nothing like I had imagined. Each fight was tougher, and the opponents were more skilled. Every opponent had their own unique trait, each one forcing me to think on my feet, adapt, and learn from every struggle.

The crowd's roar echoed through the arena, and I could feel the eyes of thousands upon me as I stepped into the ring once again. My body was bruised, my mind exhausted, but I couldn't afford to falter now. Every match was a step closer to the top, a step closer to proving my worth—not just to the world, but to myself.

As I stood there, waiting for the announcer to call the match, a strange sensation washed over me. It was as if someone was watching me—closely, studying every movement, every breath. I couldn't explain it, but I had a feeling that I wasn't the only one with eyes on this fight. I shook the thought from my mind, pushing it into the back of my consciousness. Now wasn't the time for distractions.

The announcer's voice cut through the tension. "Next up—Ethan Verdanian!"

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, my muscles still aching from the previous fights. This time, my opponent was a woman named Seraphine. She was tall and graceful, her eyes sharp and calculating. Her trait was light manipulation—she could bend light to her will, creating illusions and blinding flashes. It wasn't a trait I could easily counter with brute force. I had to be smart.

The battle began with Seraphine's opening move: a blinding flash of light that momentarily threw off my senses. My first instinct was to brace, but the moment I did, she shifted position, her form now invisible to my eyes.

I swore under my breath. Her ability was hard to pin down, and I couldn't rely solely on my resonance to reflect energy this time. I had to think.

As my vision adjusted, I could feel the heat of her presence—the light around me, bending and shifting as she moved. I focused, tuning my senses to the rhythm of her movements. She wasn't just manipulating light. She was moving with it, using the energy of light to enhance her speed.

I had to adapt.

I began using my resonance to tap into the very energy that Seraphine was controlling. At first, it was weak—just a ripple of connection. But as I honed in, I felt my body react. I wasn't just resonating with the light; I was adapting to it, letting the flow of energy guide me. The more she manipulated light, the more I began to understand its nature. It wasn't just about dodging—it was about learning how to shift with it, how to bend my body and movements in response.

In an instant, I knew where she was. My body surged forward, moving with precision, avoiding her flash of light just in time to land a solid punch. Seraphine staggered back, but she quickly regained her footing.

The battle continued, each move more intense than the last. I could feel my body adapting with each passing second, growing stronger, faster. The light around me no longer disoriented me—it became part of my rhythm. Every flash, every burst of energy that Seraphine threw at me only made me more aware of my own adaptability.

With a final, calculated strike, I launched myself forward, my hand connecting with Seraphine's side just as she tried to create another illusion. The force of the blow sent her crashing to the ground, the light dissipating around her as she fell.

The announcer's voice rang out. "Ethan Verdanian wins again! Moving on to the finals!"

I stood there, breathing heavily, the crowd roaring in approval. Another victory, but not without its toll. I had learned so much in that fight—how to adapt to the unpredictable, how to stay calm when everything around me seemed to be shifting. It wasn't just about resonance anymore. It was about understanding the battle on a deeper level, about adapting to each challenge.

As I made my way off the arena floor, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone. Someone—something—was watching me. But I couldn't afford to think about it now. There was only one match left. The final fight was just ahead.

---

Later that evening, as I rested in the locker room, my thoughts kept drifting back to the sensation that I had been watched. I had shrugged it off before, but now it felt more like an undeniable presence. Someone powerful, someone whose gaze lingered on me for far too long.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but I had to focus on what was coming next.

The final league would be the hardest of all. The final opponents were the strongest, and they had been through the same trials, fought the same battles. I had to keep pushing forward. Each fight felt like a test of my very existence, pushing me to the edge of my limits. But it was exactly where I wanted to be—on the verge of something greater.

The next day, I was in the ring again. This time, I was facing a fighter with the gravity manipulation trait—a person who could control the gravitational forces around them, altering their own weight and the environment's. I could already feel the immense pressure radiating from the opponent, the air heavy with the anticipation of the fight.

This wasn't going to be like the others. The pressure in the arena was tangible, and I could already feel my body straining just from the gravitational pull around me.

I wasn't sure how I was going to win this one, but I knew one thing—I had to adapt again. My body had learned and evolved with every fight, and I wasn't going to stop now.

I squared my shoulders, focusing on my breathing, ready to face the next challenge, and whatever came after that.