Chapter 12: Blood over Crystals

The air inside the Cobalt Pit was thick with sweat, smoke, and shouting. An underground coliseum stitched together from forgotten subway lines and collapsed tunnels, it pulsed as the beating heart of Netheria's illegal fight circuit. Crowds pressed against reinforced glass, hollering and pounding like rabid dogs desperate for blood and glory.

And standing in the center of the ring, panting slightly and brushing ash from his bruised shoulders, was Ryo Kurogane—alive, grinning, and 40,000 Nether Crystals richer.

The announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers.

> "He's done it again, folks! The Ghost of Sector 13! The starving beast himself—Ryo the Reaper!"

The crowd erupted. Crystal coins rained down into the ring like confetti. Ryo gave a lazy wave, scooping up his duffel bag full of winnings.

> "Damn, I missed this," he muttered, popping a Vanilla-Ki Nutribar into his mouth, chewing without a care.

His red jacket hung loosely off one shoulder, wrist tape half-wrapped, muscles tense beneath grime and bruises. As he turned to leave, a sharp whistle sliced through the noise.

He stopped.

A young man with slick black hair and piercing amber eyes leaned against the arena wall, arms crossed. He wore a sleek, raven-colored jacket with subtle silver threading and an insignia on the chest—a musical note pierced by a dagger.

The crowd hushed.

> "Leaving already?" the young man asked coolly, flipping a platinum coin. "I've been itching to test something new."

Ryo raised a brow. "You're calling me out?"

The man chuckled, tossing a coin pouch onto the floor. It landed with a solid thud.

> "Six hundred thousand Nether Crystals," he said flatly. "All in."

The arena gasped.

Ryo nearly choked on his bar. "You're either rich, reckless, or both."

> "And I expect the same wager from you."

Ryo's competitive spirit sparked instantly. He didn't care who this guy was—he just heard a challenge and a jackpot.

He dropped his heavy duffel bag with a loud clang, cracking his neck and reaching for a fresh roll of wrist tape.

> "You sure you wanna do this?" Ryo smirked. "I'm not in the mood to hold back."

The young man stepped forward, his presence sharp like a blade wrapped in silk.

> "I'm not worried. Because I'm a Thanatos heir, too."

Silence.

A buzz rippled through the room.

> "Name's Kiel Vashti," he said calmly. "And I'm not just any heir. I'm a ranked enforcer of the Assassin's Symphony."

Ryo's hands paused over the tape. His smirk dropped into something more focused.

The Assassin's Symphony. A black-ops faction of elite Thanatos descendants. They weren't soldiers. They weren't heroes. They were myth.

> "Tch. Of course, I finally get a big payout, and a damn death note shows up," Ryo muttered.

Kiel glanced at the crowd pressing up against the glass, some already evacuating in fear.

> "If we fight here," he said, "they'll all die."

Ryo cracked his knuckles and nodded.

> "Then let's take it somewhere with less... witnesses."

---

They traveled swiftly across the city in private hovercrafts, escorted by underground handlers to an abandoned combat zone. What remained of Sector 14 was nothing more than scorched concrete, collapsed towers, and twisted rebar jutting from the earth like bones. A graveyard left behind by Unit Null's rampage—now nothing but ash and silence.

Perfect.

The air was dense with remnants of radiation and old kinetic burns. The only witnesses were charred skeletons and cracked statues of fallen war machines.

Ryo stepped out first, rolling his shoulders and hopping in place, stretching his legs.

> "So, you're a Symphony enforcer, huh?" he asked, tying off his wrist tape. "What's your flavor? Poison? Speed? Soul-bending?"

Kiel removed his jacket, folding it neatly over a beam, revealing a body sculpted for murder—lean, coiled, and humming with barely contained power.

> "I'm a Pulse Diver," Kiel said. "My bloodline lets me phase between kinetic frequencies."

> "Translation?"

> "Your punches won't hit me. But mine'll hit you. Hard."

Ryo grinned.

> "Cute."

Without warning, Kiel vanished.

Ryo's instincts flared, and he twisted, blocking a strike that came from behind—but it passed through his block like smoke and slammed into his ribs.

He flew across the rubble, bouncing off a broken wall.

> "Shit—he's fast," Ryo coughed.

Kiel walked forward slowly, relaxed.

> "I'm syncing with the invisible frequency of your movements. Every twitch, every breath—I'm already there."

Ryo spat blood into the dirt and grinned.

> "Then you're in for a surprise."

A flash of crimson light pulsed from his core.

> "Red Dragon Destruction," he whispered, and flames shaped like coiled serpents erupted around him.

Kiel's brows rose.

> "A new ability?"

> "Gifted by a ghost I hate," Ryo said, eyes glowing red. "Let's see if your fancy phasing trick works against pure devastation."

He launched forward—blazing, a red comet streaking through the air.

Kiel countered, diving into a half-phase, but as Ryo punched, the flame lingered in space, searing through Kiel's defense and striking his shoulder. The assassin grunted and flipped away.

> "What was that?" he muttered.

> "The dragon doesn't just strike," Ryo said, flames licking his arms. "It leaves a presence behind. I can trap your movement even if you phase."

Kiel grinned.

> "You're more fun than I expected."

The fight exploded into chaos.

Kiel blurred in and out of space, his limbs like razors slicing through dimensions. Ryo weaved through attacks with newfound speed and adaptability, fire spiraling off every kick and punch. Sector 14 became their battlefield, flames and phantom strikes turning it into a warzone once again.

After twenty minutes of nonstop combat, both fighters stood panting, scorched and bloodied. Kiel's phasing had grown unstable, and Ryo's flames had burned holes in the earth.

> "Draw?" Kiel asked, tilting his head.

Ryo smirked.

> "Only if you cover drinks."

They both burst out laughing—mad, bruised, and burning.

---

As they walked back to the hovercraft, Kiel tossed Ryo a small emblem—black metal shaped like a dagger through a treble clef.

> "You ever want real work," he said, "the Symphony's always recruiting. We could use a monster like you."

Ryo caught the emblem and tucked it into his coat.

> "I'll think about it," he said, cracking open another Nutribar. "But for now, I like gambling too much."

The night sky glowed faintly over the ruined sector.