Trial by Combat

Ash barely had time to react before his opponent lunged.

A fist the size of a cinder block came swinging toward his head. He twisted instinctively, ducking just in time for the blow to graze his mask. The impact sent a sharp vibration through the metal, rattling his skull. The crowd roared in approval.

The veteran brawler, known as Goro the Bear, wasted no time pressing the attack. Ash barely sidestepped the next swing, but the force of the air alone was enough to tell him—one clean hit and it was over.

He had no cybernetic enhancements, no reinforced bone plating. All he had was speed, instinct, and the raw hunger to survive.

Goro grinned, his scarred lips curling. "Fast little bastard, huh?"

Ash didn't answer. Talking was a waste of breath. Instead, he focused on the rhythm of Goro's movements—the slight shift of his weight, the way his right shoulder tensed before throwing a punch. Predictable.

The next strike came, and this time, Ash didn't dodge. He sidestepped just enough to let it pass, then twisted his entire body into a counterstrike. His fist drove into Goro's side, right below the ribs.

It was like punching stone.

Goro barely flinched. Instead, he lashed out, catching Ash with a brutal elbow to the chest. The air left Ash's lungs in a painful wheeze as he staggered back.

The crowd erupted in laughter.

Goro rolled his shoulders. "That all you got, mask-boy?"

Ash gritted his teeth. He couldn't win in a pure power match. He had to be smarter.

The next time Goro attacked, Ash didn't dodge outright. Instead, he let the punch come close—then twisted at the last second, using Goro's own momentum against him. He struck low, aiming for the knee.

Goro stumbled, just slightly, but it was enough.

Ash struck again. Then again. Sharp, precise blows—one to the ribs, another to the jaw. He moved like a shadow, slipping past Goro's defenses before the brute could recover.

The crowd's jeers turned into shouts of surprise.

Goro growled in frustration and lunged, aiming to grab Ash in a grapple. But Ash saw it coming. He ducked under the massive arms, pivoted behind Goro, and drove an elbow into the back of his knee.

Goro's leg buckled.

Ash didn't hesitate. He twisted, delivering a final, brutal kick to the side of Goro's skull. The larger man staggered—then crashed to the ground.

Silence.

Then the crowd exploded.

Ash stood over Goro's fallen form, his breaths coming fast, his body aching from the hits he'd taken. He had won.

Ren smirked from outside the cage, nodding in approval. "Not bad, ghost-boy."

A handful of gamblers cursed as they lost their bets. Others grinned, already seeing potential in the masked newcomer.

Ash exhaled, straightening. His ribs throbbed. His knuckles ached. But he had proven something tonight.

He belonged here.

And this was just the beginning.