Chapter 24: The Black Horse Emerges
The grand arena buzzed with anticipation as the first round of the tournament began. Warriors from all sects lined up, their eyes sharp, muscles coiled like springs ready to snap. Yet all attention gravitated toward the newcomer—Kai. The rumors surrounding him had already begun to stir curiosity, but no one expected what was about to unfold.
His first opponent was a seasoned fighter from the Azure Dragon Sect, known for his brute strength and aggressive style. As the gong echoed through the coliseum, the battle erupted instantly.
Kai's movements were fluid, almost too fast for the eye to follow. With barely a breath, he closed the distance, his form blurring. The opponent swung a powerful fist, aiming to crush, but Kai sidestepped with uncanny ease, his body shifting like liquid shadow.
Without hesitation, Kai unleashed a flurry of strikes—each one precise, each one connecting with surgical accuracy. His fists and feet moved in a perfect rhythm, disrupting the opponent's guard before he could mount a proper defense. The crowd gasped as the fighter stumbled back, dazed and unable to land a single effective blow.
Though Kai never shouted the name of his technique, the afterimages flickering at the edges of vision left everyone confused. Whispers rose among the spectators: "Did you see that? There were two of him—no, three!"
Within moments, Kai's final strike sent the opponent crashing to the ground, the fight decisively over.
As the second round commenced, the atmosphere thickened with tension. Kai's next challenger was known for agility and cunning, a shadowy figure from the Serpent's Coil Clan. The crowd expected a closer match, but Kai's presence seemed to dwarf his opponent's confidence.
Again, Kai moved like a ghost, his form flickering in and out of view, his attacks weaving through defenses that should have held firm. The opponent lunged, only to find air where Kai had been moments before. When Kai's strike landed, it was with a sudden, undeniable force that threw the challenger off balance.
The arena erupted into murmurs, the word spreading like wildfire: "The black horse! Who is this kid?"
With the second opponent dispatched swiftly, Kai stood calm and composed, his gaze steady as the crowd buzzed in disbelief. The black horse had arrived—silent, swift, and unstoppable.
The arena's roar swelled as Seraphine, the Veiled Lotus Sect's renowned acrobat, stepped gracefully onto the battleground. Clad in sleek midnight-blue robes that shimmered with every movement, she carried the aura of a dancer and a predator combined. Her eyes locked on Kai with sharp focus—an acknowledgment of the challenge ahead.
From the opening bell, Seraphine was a tempest of motion. She flowed forward, weaving like smoke around Kai's stance. With balletic flips and spins, she evaded his initial probes, using the momentum of her own spins to deliver rapid, slicing jabs aimed at pressure points—wrists, ribs, neck—precise and calculated to sap strength and break concentration.
Kai observed with cool, unshaken focus. His stance shifted subtly as Seraphine's limbs blurred in the air; each strike was met with barely perceptible adjustments—a step back, a lean, a deft block that barely registered on the surface.
Seraphine's strategy was clear: use Kai's force against him, tire him, then strike decisively. She circled, dodging his attempts to close in, pivoting elegantly on her toes as she baited him with feints and swift footwork. Her slender frame seemed to defy gravity, vaulting over low swings and ducking under mid-level strikes with effortless grace.
Suddenly, she spun in a wide arc, aiming a low sweeping kick to unbalance him. Kai barely shifted his weight, anchoring firmly and countering with a sharp jab to her exposed elbow—the impact subtle but enough to force her to pull back.
Seraphine's eyes flashed with respect and renewed determination. She leapt high, flipping over Kai's head in a seamless motion, and landed behind him. Before he could react, she unleashed a rapid series of open-palm strikes, snapping at his back and shoulders.
Kai absorbed the blows with measured breathing, the strikes stinging but failing to break his defense. Then, almost imperceptibly, he rotated his body, redirecting the force of her palms to throw her slightly off balance.
As Seraphine stumbled, Kai's form blurred.
A dozen near-invisible strikes rained down—precise taps to muscle groups, nerves, and joints. His fists and feet moved in a perfect storm of efficiency, no wasted movement, each strike strategically designed to disable without brute force.
Seraphine twisted, desperately evading, but the illusion of multiple Kais—his afterimages flickering just beyond clear sight—kept her guessing. Her attacks began to lose their signature precision; hesitation crept in.
She aimed a spinning kick, a dazzling display of agility, but Kai vanished from her path, reappearing behind her in a blink. His fist connected with her side—a blow that knocked the air from her lungs and forced her to stagger forward.
Breathing hard, Seraphine tried to regroup, throwing a desperate jab that Kai caught and twisted, using the momentum to execute a subtle throw that sent her skidding across the sand.
The crowd held its breath as Seraphine struggled to stand, her robes torn, sweat gleaming on her brow.
Kai approached steadily, his gaze calm and unreadable.
With a final, precise strike to her torso—an expertly timed blow syncing with her exhale—Seraphine collapsed, the fight decisively over.
The arena erupted in cheers, chants echoing the phrase that now defined Kai: "Black Horse! Black Horse!"
Kai stood poised, catching his breath, eyes already sharp with anticipation for the battles still to come.