Wild Court – Match of the Unstable Relic

The next morning, the Rune Rebellion coliseum was colder than before. Not by weather—but by atmosphere.

Word had spread fast.

Raghav, the Devourer user, had survived his first match. And the fifth rune had flickered. Players were whispering already. Wagers doubled. So did fear.

At the center of the Rebellion board, a new name had emerged.

> Zern Kael – The Split Relic

No rank. No tier. No wins. No losses.

Just a warning next to his name:

> "Unstable. Do not engage unless sanctioned."

Raghav's match was sanctioned.

Not by the board.

By the Rebellion Host himself.

---

The arena was darker today.

Cracked stone with no clear markings. It wasn't a tennis court. It was more like a ritual site. The audience sat far back—too far—and even the regulars looked unsettled.

A voice echoed.

"Rao, Raghav – Devourer-Class. Fifth rune flicker confirmed."

"Kael, Zern – Relic: Chimeric Requiem. Unstable status: Active."

The mist cleared.

Zern stood at the far end of the ruined court.

His body was wrapped in bandages—not for wounds, but to keep things in. His right hand shook, twitching constantly. His left eye was covered with an iron plate, bolted into his skull. Around his feet, the ground moved, pulsing like something beneath it was alive.

And his racket…

If it could still be called that, it was two relics forcibly merged. One side shimmered like water. The other hissed like fire trapped in crystal. The center was jagged, raw metal, stitched by runes that fought each other.

Zern didn't speak.

He just screamed.

---

GONG. Match Begin.

Raghav served immediately—fast, clean, clinical. The ball streaked forward.

Zern moved unnaturally. His feet didn't step—they jerked forward, like he was being dragged by invisible strings.

He caught the ball with the racket—and the moment it touched the strings, the ball exploded into flame and water, raining burning mist across the court.

> He's not playing tennis… he's unleashing chaos.

Raghav covered his eyes and shifted right—too late. Zern was already there.

The next ball was fired from a full-arm windup, spinning like a meteor, its surface melting from heat and steam.

Raghav struck it with the Devourer—but the moment his strings touched it, a shriek pierced his skull.

> Not from Zern. From the Devourer.

The fifth rune flared bright.

Images flashed in Raghav's mind:

A court flooded in lava.

Players crawling, twitching, relics eating their users.

Zern winning… and screaming for it to stop.

---

Second point: Zern.

The board lit red.

Raghav gasped, hand shaking. The Devourer was trembling now—not from fear, but hunger. The unstable relic was like scented blood. It wanted it. Craved it.

> "No," Raghav whispered. "Not yet."

But the Devourer moved on its own. A rune surged.

Zern reacted instantly—not to Raghav, but to the Devourer's will.

His relic split open. Literally. The two sides detached—one half now slamming down waterball after waterball, the other hurling burning comets from above.

It was two relics. Fighting as one.

And Raghav?

He was drowning in it.

He dodged left, barely avoiding the third shot, but caught the fourth on the shoulder. The ball exploded in steam and flame. His jacket burned. His skin sizzled.

Still, he swung back.

The Devourer absorbed the water shot—drank it.

Then the fifth rune howled.

Not a flicker this time.

A full surge.

> DEVOUR

The racket pulled essence from the corrupted court, from Zern's relic itself. Lines of glowing red light extended like claws from Raghav's racket, trying to latch on.

Zern shrieked. His iron mask cracked.

The court trembled.

The relics screamed back.

And exploded.

---

Raghav blacked out.

---

When he came to, he was lying outside the court, blood dripping from his nose, cuts along his arms, clothes torn.

The match had been force-stopped.

Zern was gone. So was his relic—vanished, pulled back into containment.

Raghav's rank hadn't changed.

But a new title had been etched next to his name:

> "Devourer – Fifth Rune Woken"

He looked at his racket.

The fifth rune was lit now.

Not flickering.

Not sleeping.

Lit.

And it whispered to him, a faint voice in the back of his mind.

> "One more… one more relic… just one more…"

He gripped the handle tighter.

"I'm not yours," he said aloud.

But the Devourer didn't argue.

It just waited.

---