Flames of a New Legend
The battle arena of Glory Academy roared with unstoppable energy.
The ground shook with every clash, every punch, every roar of the students fighting for their dreams.
Bright stood near the waiting zone, watching with calm, focused eyes. His hands were clenched into fists — not from fear, but from pure, burning anticipation.
He knew his time was coming. His opponent would be someone strong, someone ranked far above him. But he wasn't afraid.
This was the beginning of his path. His climb toward becoming the strongest in the world.
As he waited, he saw his friends' matches playing out in front of him.
Some friends lost early — the competition was brutal.
One of their friends, Anu, was knocked out quickly by a martial artist specializing in shadows.
Another, Raj, fought hard but ultimately lost to a healer who turned defense into offense.
The atmosphere was tense and wild.
Students who had trained for years were falling like dry leaves in a storm.
But the real show was about to start.
The announcer's voice boomed over the arena speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, up next — the match between Rahul Verma and Anshuman Deshmukh!"
Bright's eyes narrowed slightly. "Rahul... show them what you're made of."
The crowd buzzed. Both these names were well-known — but few thought Rahul had a real chance.
On the battlefield stood Rahul, tall and determined, fire burning in his eyes.
And opposite him — Anshuman, a giant, wide as a truck, muscles bulging like coiled snakes under his skin.
Anshuman smiled lazily. His body seemed to glow faintly green — the mark of his Grass Strength Ability. Grass energy could entangle, heal, and massively boost defense.
A deadly combo for the battlefield.
Round One: BEGIN!
Anshuman roared like a beast and charged first, his fists swinging like hammers.
The ground cracked under his steps.
Rahul dodged, quick like a panther, his fire energy flaring slightly around him.
The fat boy laughed mockingly.
"That all you got? Run, little mouse!"
But Rahul said nothing. His mind was calm, his body flowing like burning wind.
A small punch from Rahul hit Anshuman's side — but it did nothing.
The fat guy smirked.
"My grass armor absorbs small hits. You're finished!"
With terrifying speed, he sent Rahul flying with a body slam.
Thud!
Rahul coughed, blood dripping from his lips. The audience gasped.
"Is this it? Will Rahul lose?"
"How can he fight against THAT?"
Even teachers watching from the VIP stands shook their heads.
The match seemed hopeless.
But Bright… Bright just smiled.
He knew.
Rahul was just getting started.
Rahul stood up, wiping his mouth, and muttered something under his breath.
A faint golden-red aura began to rise around him.
The temperature spiked.
The air shimmered.
The ground near Rahul's feet began to crack.
"Activate… Phoenix Contract."
A blinding light exploded from Rahul's chest.
An ethereal image of a giant, flaming bird spread its wings behind him — majestic, proud, invincible.
The legendary Phoenix.
A mythical beast worshipped for centuries for its immortality and fiery wrath.
The crowd went silent.
The teachers stood up from their chairs.
The principal dropped his cup of tea.
The announcer stuttered,
"Is… is that... a Beast Contract?"
Bright grinned wider.
"Finally showing it, huh Rahul?"
---
The Secret of Rahul's Bloodline
Rahul belonged to the Verma Clan — a small but ancient family line known for their connection to Mythical Beasts.
Generations ago, one of their ancestors saved a dying Phoenix.
In gratitude, the Phoenix gave their family a Contract Lineage, a divine blessing to summon a fraction of Phoenix power in times of great need.
But... there was a rule.
They could only use 5% of the true Phoenix's might — otherwise, their bodies would be destroyed.
Even 5% was a terrifying force, enough to burn mountains if not controlled properly.
Rahul's family had worshipped the Phoenix for generations, protecting this secret with their lives.
Now, for the first time in decades, one of them was revealing this divine fire to the world.
---
Back to the Match
Anshuman charged again, swinging his fist like a falling mountain.
But this time — Rahul didn't dodge.
He caught the punch… with one hand.
The grass armor shattered under the Phoenix-enhanced strength.
BOOM!
A flaming uppercut sent Anshuman flying ten meters into the air.
The fat guy crashed into the ground like a broken comet, smoke rising from his body.
The referee ran forward.
"WINNER — RAHUL VERMA!!!"
The crowd went insane.
Students screamed Rahul's name.
Some even cried, overwhelmed by the sheer spectacle of the Phoenix.
"They said he would lose!"
"They said he had no chance!"
"That's the power of a Phoenix Contract... just 5%!!! What if he used 100%?!"
Students started recording, sharing videos, calling him "The Phoenix's Chosen."
Rahul stood proudly, fire slowly fading from his body, breathing heavily.
He looked toward the stands where his family sat — smiling with pride.
Bright clapped loudly from the waiting area, smiling.
"You did it, brother. You really did it."
---
Meanwhile, In the Waiting Room
Bright was sitting alone now.
He was next.
His opponent?
Rank 12 — one of the academy's rising monsters.
Bright closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
This tournament wasn't just about fights for him.
It was about his dreams.
It was about proving to his father that he could stand tall.
It was about protecting his family, showing his sisters and mothers that their trust in him was not wrong.
It was about keeping a promise to himself — to be the strongest, no matter what.
He tightened his fists.
"I'm not fighting just to win," he whispered.
"I'm fighting to climb. To rise. To shine."
The memories of his painful training, sleepless nights, bleeding hands, flooded back into his mind.
All that suffering — for this moment.
The announcer's voice rang out again.
"Next match... Bright Dutta versus Kunal Yadav, Rank 12!"
Bright stood up from the bench, feeling the excitement rush through his veins. His fists tightened, ready to step onto the battlefield.
But before he could even move, the announcer's voice boomed through the arena:
> "Due to time restrictions, the remaining matches, including Bright Dutta vs Kunal Yadav, are postponed to tomorrow! Matches will resume at 10 AM sharp!"
The crowd let out a disappointed sigh, but Bright silently exhaled.
"One more night to sharpen my spirit," he thought.
Yet deep inside, he knew... his next opponent was not ordinary.
Kunal Yadav, ranked 12th, was a legend among the new generation.
Famous for his stone-cold attitude, fierce eyes, and unstoppable focus — a warrior who barely showed any emotions even in the bloodiest battles.
And worse...
He held a terrifying ability: Psycrush.
Using the invisible force of his mind, Kunal could manipulate objects, crush defenses, and even paralyze opponents for a few seconds — a split second enough to decide victory or defeat.
His mind was a blade sharper than any sword.
And his punches, enhanced by psychic power, could shatter bones if they landed properly.
In the crowd, many students whispered nervously:
> "Bright has talent but... facing Kunal? That's a nightmare."
> "Psycrush is brutal... Can Bright really stand against him?"
But Bright didn't flinch.
He smiled slightly and muttered under his breath,
"No matter how strong the mind... the heart is stronger."
From the stands, Nur Rani Dutta and his mothers cheered louder than ever.
His big sister yelled,
"Little bro! Don't worry! Rest today! Tomorrow, show him your thunder!"
His mothers clapped with bright smiles, hiding their slight nervousness behind encouraging faces.
Bright bowed toward them lightly, a silent promise in his heart:
"For you all... I'll never give up."
Far away, in the corner of a lonely office room, a man silently watched the tournament news on the TV screen.
Bright's father.
A strange emotion bloomed inside him — pride, regret, and longing all tangled together.
He touched the screen with trembling fingers, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled.
> "A father can be angry... a father can be strict...
But no father can ever stop loving his child."
Above them, the stars seemed to shimmer a little brighter — as if blessing the battles to come.
And thus, the day ended — the calm before the fiercest storm.
.
.
.
.
To be continued...