Chapter 33
The atmosphere inside the Tryst Guild's sparring hall was thick with anticipation. Every seat on the elevated platform was filled, guild members leaning forward with curious eyes fixed on the large steel arena below.
Two figures stood several meters apart, facing each other. One was Han—white-and-black hair tousled, hands casually tucked in his pockets, a calm, almost serene look on his face. On the other side stood Aiden, a blonde-haired warrior with a permanent grin etched on his face. But those who knew him understood—it wasn't confidence. It was resignation.
Han had faced Aiden multiple times in the past. Every bout ended the same: Han's effortless domination. But today felt different. Aiden's stance, the glint in his eye—he carried a strange confidence.
"Alright, Aiden," the old elder at the top announced, voice echoing through the chamber, "you'll set the terms for the match."
Aiden's grin widened shamelessly as he was waiting for this. "Gladly," he said, then raised a finger theatrically.
"Rule one—Han, no Jungle Arts."
A murmur spread through the crowd.
"Rule two—no flames. Don't want the place going up in smoke."
"Rule three—no Analyzer or Defiance Eyes."
"Rule four—no teleportation."
He paused, tapping his chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Hmm… I'm forgetting something… Oh, right! No clones."
He then placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "I swear on my honor, I shall fight with all I have. A fair and noble battle!"
Han's face twitched. Calm? Gone. What kind of insane man calls this a fair fight? Aiden had just sealed off over 80% of Han's abilities—and then had the audacity to act righteous.
Han didn't yell. But inside, he was screaming.
What made it worse? Han was the one who evolved Aiden's body—sacrificing some of his own Evolution Points to push Aiden to prime human form. Add Aiden's Morph skill to the mix, and now he was a monster in his own right.
"Any objections?" Aiden asked, smug.
Han opened his mouth—only for Aiden to cut in. "See? He agrees. Let's not waste time!"
This guy is mad, Han thought bitterly.
"Morph," Aiden said, and his body began to shift.
Fur, scales, and alien patterns erupted along his limbs, forming a fusion of deadly features from countless beasts. The guild members gasped. Even after seeing it many times, his transformation never failed to amaze.
Without warning, Aiden surged forward, his furred beast-like legs launching him across the arena at blinding speed. His fist shot toward Han's face.
Han blocked it just in time—but the impact pushed him several steps back.
Aiden didn't relent. Blow after blow, he attacked. Han countered, dodged, and retaliated. Their fists collided midair, sending out sharp shockwaves that rippled through the room.
"They're incredible," one guild member whispered in awe.
"Do you think Sir Ron could take them on?" another asked.
"Let asked him." The first girl said.
The girls turned and walked over to Ron, who was sitting beside the old elder, arms crossed as he watched silently.
"Sir Ron, could you beat them?"
Ron adjusted his collar coolly. "Of course. Any day, any time."
Several female guild members swooned.
But his confidence shattered with the elder's next words.
"Perfect. After their match, Ron will face the winner tomorrow. Then he can prove his words."
"Yaaay!" the girls cheered.
But Ron's face turned ghostly pale. Sweat trickled down his neck. Internally, he was screaming.
This old fogey is trying to kill me! He could've sent me to the ARC… why straight to death?!
Facing either of them now was suicide. Maybe—maybe—he could survive Aiden. But Han, at full strength?
Death would be a blessing.
The elder smiled to himself. That would teach Ron to stop bragging.
Meanwhile, below the arena, the battle raged on.
Fist met fist.
Kick clashed with kick.
Even heads collided as the two fought like wild animals.
But it quickly became clear who had the upper hand.
Aiden's morph ability had altered his hands into sharp, claw-like weapons—courtesy of the Dark Goblin essence he wielded. With each strike, a dark energy seeped into Han's body, making even minor wounds linger. Normally, Han's body would heal minor scratches within minutes, but the corruption delayed regeneration. The cuts piled up, his movements dulled, and his reactions slowed.
BOOM.
Aiden's clawed fist crashed into Han's face—again. The third time. Han was sent flying, crashing into the metallic wall with such force that it left a deep dent.
Aiden scoffed, dusting his claws like a disappointed teacher.
"Gosh, man. Have you been slacking off? Why are you this weak?"
Han resisted the urge to curse. Barely. Instead, he rose slowly to his feet, wiped the blood from his chin, and locked eyes with Aiden.
"So... everything goes, right? That's what you said." Han said recounting the match terms set by Aiden.
Aiden raised a brow, hesitated, then nodded.
Han smiled. And that smile made Aiden's heart skip a beat.
No—it wasn't a smile. It was a warning.
"No—you can't use your su—"
"Ifrit." Han interrupted coldly.
A fiery explosion erupted beside him. When the flames died down, a blazing figure stood there, wreathed in fire, eyes glowing molten red. The heat in the arena spiked instantly.
"What the hell is that?!" a guild member shouted.
"You don't know? That's the Young Master's summon," another whispered in awe. "I heard it's as strong as him."
The first guild member could only gape, words failing him.
Han cracked his knuckles and turned toward Aiden, his voice calm but deadly:
"Alright, Aiden. Ready for round two?"
Aiden backed up a step. "No, no—I yie—!"
FWOOM!
A massive fireball blasted Aiden, sending him flying. He barely had time to scream before Ifrit appeared midair with two flaming war hammers, each the size of a boulder.
WHAM!
One hammer slammed Aiden back toward Han like a pinball.
Han twisted midair launching a powerful kick "Didn't you hear me?! I said I yie–"
BAM!
A powerful kick sent Aiden flying again.
WHAM-WHAM!
Ifrit didn't miss a beat. Twin hammer strikes launched Aiden back toward Han.
"I swear I yie—"
BAM!
Han met him midair with a spinning backhand.
BOOM!
Back to Ifrit.
WHAM!
Again.
And again, To and Fro.
Aiden's face was swollen beyond recognition. His form flickered—his transformation already undone. Blood, bruises, burns—it was a miracle he was still conscious.
High above, the spectators watched in stunned silence.
"Is he… gonna kill him?" one whispered.
"I don't even know anymore," another muttered, pale.
WHOOOSH!
Once again, Aiden was launched toward Han.
"Can't you hear?! I said I yiel—!"
UPPERMOON STRIKE!
Han's fist met his jaw, rocketing Aiden upward into the air.
Ifrit was already waiting, its fist ablaze.
"Inferno Rush."
BOOM!
The flaming punch hit with earth-shattering force. Aiden was blasted across the arena and crashed into the far wall, motionless.
Han exhaled. "He's out cold. Or... in a coma. Either way."
Medics rushed in, lifting Aiden's limp body onto a stretcher.
Ifrit landed beside Han. He glanced at his fiery companion and nodded.
Having Ifrit around was more than just helpful. He was an excellent sparring partner, a powerful ally… and the ultimate counter to Laura's icy punishments. She could freeze him all she wanted—Ifrit would just melt the ice a second later.
With a thought, Han dismissed Ifrit.
The crowd roared his name, but Han's mind drifted.
"I should visit my siblings…"
Then his heart dropped.
Today was Rin and Xin's birthday.
How the hell did he forget that?!
He had promised—sworn—to never forget again. To give them the best birthday ever.
"Sh*t!" Han cursed internally.
Without a word, he vanished—teleporting out of the arena.
---
Meanwhile, in the stands, Ron sat frozen in his seat.
This match proved two things:
1. Han was terrifyingly strong—and that wasn't even his full power.
2. Han was ruthlessly wicked.
Ron gulped.
"I need a life insurance plan. ASAP."
Back at the Trystan Mansion, Rin, Xin, and Laura sat in the cozy living room, all three occasionally glancing at the wall clock. The air felt unusually still for a birthday.
"When will big brother be here?" Xin asked, fiddling with her bracelet.
"Soon," Laura replied softly.
Rin crossed his arms, his tone sharp. "Or maybe… he's not coming. Don't tell me he forgot again."
Laura opened her mouth to defend Han, but her silence spoke volumes. Even she was starting to think the same.
But just then—the front doors burst open.
A fanfare of trumpets erupted through the hallway, birthday music followed, and a red carpet rolled into the living room. Marching behind it was Han, wearing his signature deep-blue long coat, looking as cool and composed as ever. Behind him trailed a small procession of menholding colorful, beautifully wrapped presents.
The three were stunned speechless. This wasn't the Han who forgot birthdays. This was… a completely different man.
Han walked up, dropped to one knee to match their height, and gently kissed Xin and Rin on their foreheads. The birthday music faded as he pulled out a delicate, shimmering blue necklace and clasped it around Xin's neck.
"Happy birthday… my peace," he said warmly.
Xin's face lit up instantly, eyes sparkling.
Next, Han turned to Rin and handed him a brand-new gaming system, complete with custom controllers and limited-edition games.
"Happy birthday… my trouble," Han added with a teasing smile.
Strangely enough, Rin didn't mind being called that this time. Not with the gaming gear in his hands.
Laura, still processing it all, looked at Han in disbelief. "How did you manage all this? I thought you… forgot."
Han's smile twitched. "There's no way under heaven I'd forget any of your birthdays," he said with pride.
She eyed him suspiciously but let it slide.
Xin tugged his sleeve. "So… are we still going to Small Light Park? You promised we'd go when we turned thirteen!"
"Of course," Han smiled. "We're all going."
Internally, though, he was screaming in relief. Clara… you're my savior. From the trumpets to the presents, even the park tickets—it was all her. All he had to do was show up and act cool.
Two hours later—
Han, Laura, Xin, and Rin arrived at Small Light Park, a sprawling playground bursting with color, laughter, and excitement. The sky was a perfect blue, and the sun lit up the park like a spotlight on joy itself.
The four of them walked in hand-in-hand, grinning from ear to ear. Today was for celebration—and it showed in every bounce of their step.
---
Just moments after their entrance, a hooded figure stood silently near the gate. The vibrant letters spelling "Small Light" reflected in his eyes, but his expression remained blank.
For a heartbeat, a flash of memory passed through his mind—a woman, mid-thirties, smiling with warmth that could melt stone.
He inhaled sharply, then exhaled a quiet sigh.
Without a word, he stepped forward, blending into the crowd like a shadow swallowed by light.
---
A few minutes later, eight men arrived at the entrance. Each wore a different outfit, but two things tied them together: a bold "B" insignia on their chests, and well-groomed mustaches that seemed to be a point of pride.
The tallest among them, with a mustache so long it nearly curled at his collar, raised his hand for silence.
"We've received confirmation," he said, voice low and serious. "The Exterminator is here."
He narrowed his eyes at the park.
"Dead or alive—we bring him in."
The others nodded and without hesitation, they moved in.
To be continued...