Crimson_Shadows

Raghav Rao was a nobody—an ordinary ball boy with a dream of becoming the world’s top tennis player. But when he touches an ancient racket left behind by a mysterious grandmaster, he awakens a strange power: the ability to devour the talents of any player he defeats. As he rises from obscurity, he must face ruthless rivals, secret organizations, and the dark cost of the power he's inherited. In a world where talent is everything, how far will he go?

Ace of Ascension: Talent Devourer in the Tennis World

The golden gates groaned open, revealing a long corridor lit with flickering flame-blue torches. The atmosphere changed the moment Raghav stepped inside—it was colder, denser, as if even the air demanded strength from those who dared breathe it.

Mira walked beside him in silence, until they passed the third gate. Then she spoke, low and sharp.

"You've made it into the First Blood Tier. That's the outermost layer of the Hidden Court. You're still just… bait."

Mira nodded. "This entire tier is a proving ground. They throw new Relic Holders into matches, watch how they perform, and the real players—higher-ups—hunt from above. Talent-scouting, sure… but also talent-stealing."

She stopped before a mural etched into the stone wall—twelve circles arranged in a spiral, each with a distinct symbol.

"This is Tier One: First Blood. Where we are now."

"Above that is Tier Two: Iron Courts. That's where the real tournaments begin—team formats, territory challenges, and rank-based advancement. Win enough, and you earn points toward Entry Rights."

Each ring above had fewer symbols, tighter circles. At the very center—surrounded by darkness—was a single glowing emblem shaped like an eye and a racket blade merged into one.

"The Twelve Arbiters," Mira whispered. "They rule the Hidden Court."

"Twelve Relics. Twelve Holders. Each one has reached the top and never lost. They don't play in tournaments anymore—they run them. Decide matchups. Control access to rune upgrades. Even suppress rival relics if they want to."

"And let me guess—they don't like new talent?"

Mira laughed, humorless. "They don't fear it. They farm it. Every now and then, a rookie shows promise. So they send agents—Relic Killers. Not to test you."

She turned to him, expression grim.

Later that night, in the rest zone beneath the Iron Courts, Raghav sat on a bench near the training facility, gripping the Devourer. Three runes now glowed faintly on its frame. It no longer felt like just a tool—it felt like a partner. A living force.

> "They don't just want your power. They want your evolution."

The thought of the Twelve Arbiters sent a chill through his veins. He had faced pressure before—national junior tournaments, the expectations of a scholarship path—but this was different.

This was a hidden empire built on talent, domination, and fear.

A figure approached from the corridor. Male, tall, slender. Face hidden behind a fox mask.

He didn't speak. Just tossed something at Raghav's feet.

A white token, etched with a single word:

Mira stepped in from the side, eyes narrowing. "Already?"

The masked figure vanished into the shadows.

Raghav bent and picked up the token. He turned it over.

"You have been marked by a Tier Two Agent. Prepare."

Mira crossed her arms. "Looks like the Arbiters are watching you already."

He stood slowly, eyes narrowing with focus. The fear in his chest was real—but it didn't overpower the fire.

"They can watch," he said. "But I'm not here to be harvested."

He looked down at the Devourer, its fourth rune beginning to shimmer faintly.

The Shadow Behind the Rackets