Reborn with a Necromancer System-Chapter 173: Kai vs Fenric - Part Two

The crowd surged with excitement, their cheers crashing against the stone of the arena like waves during a storm. Bloodied, bruised, and barely standing, Alex Trunsdale remained defiant in the face of the seemingly unbeatable Fenric.

The announcer’s voice rose in pitch, riding the energy of the coliseum like a seasoned performer drawing out a climax.

"Can Alex Trunsdale really stand up to the might of Fenric’s unstoppable fists?! Three hits! And yet, our underdog rises again!"

But Kai heard none of it. The crowd, the noise, even the pain faded beneath the white-hot clarity of focus that came with battle.

He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and narrowed his eyes.

’I can’t overpower him. I can’t outmatch him. But I can outthink him.’

’Surely, my experiences in this world... and the one before... can help.’

Kai planted his feet firmly into the tiled floor and lowered his stance. He brought his hand to his side and slowly coated it in shadow magic, turning his fingers into wicked claws of shadow, half-real, half-mana, and all menace.

’Still within the rules. If Tarnil can superheat his body to the point of melting metal, then I can turn mine into something monstrous.’

He felt the weight of the crowd’s gaze. And the quiet judgment of the unseen headmaster somewhere in the stands.

Still, he pressed on.

The shadows crept across his body, wrapping around his arms, chest, and legs in an armored veil of flickering black. Then, he hunched low onto all fours. A primal, beast-like stance that made his muscles coil like springs ready to release.

’A little embarrassing,’ he admitted to himself, ’but worth a shot.’

Across the arena, Fenric raised an eyebrow, one hand lowered at his side, the other poised.

"Pretending to be some sort of animal?" he asked, his tone almost amused, but with a monk’s detachment.

Kai didn’t answer.

He sprang forward like a wraith.

Low to the ground, shadows billowing behind him like a cape of smoke, he moved faster than he ever had before. The shadows didn’t just cling to him, they moved with him. Anticipated his motions. Augmented his reflexes. He was no longer just Kai.

He was a living shadow, cutting across the battlefield.

Fenric began to retreat, but with each step, he delivered a devastating fist fueled by Ki. Kai narrowly dodged each one, watching the way the air bent, the mana rippled, and the tiles cracked behind him with every blow.

He spiraled through the air, his shadowy claws extended. The Ki grazed his ribs, burning through the barrier, even though there was no flame, but he refused to slow.

"Alex has become a living nightmare!" the announcer called out in wonder. "The referees have confirmed, this transformation is within regulations!"

Kai didn’t hear that either. His mind was focused. Sharp. Calculating.

’Sorry, Joran. I promised no shadow tricks, but... I can’t win this without them.’

The movement felt liberating. The burden of restraint lifted. No need to tiptoe around his true talents. Not anymore.

He reached striking range.

He rose to his feet, towering over Fenric now, his form half-shrouded in flowing darkness. His green eyes burned through the mask of shadows, bright as twin embers, and his clawed hand swung down in a devastating arc.

But it never landed.

Fenric raised both hands in a sign of surrender.

"I have lost."

Just like that, the tension broke. Kai blinked, his claw halting inches from the monk’s head.

The shadow melted off him, like water evaporating into the morning sun.

"Are you sure?" Kai asked, lowering his hand.

Fenric nodded once. "Yes."

There was no anger in his voice. No resentment. Only peace.

A breath later, the announcer’s voice exploded through the stadium:

"Aaaaand that’s the match! Shorter than Alex’s brutal bout with Durg, but maybe even more thrilling, what do you all think?!"

The crowd erupted. Their cheers were thunder now. The name Alex Trunsdale rang from every corner of the Arena of Kings.

Kai staggered slightly, overwhelmed by the fight and the noise.

Fenric stepped closer, calm as ever.

"Find me after the tournament," he said. "I’m staying at the Lazy Sloth Inn. I have much more training to do, but I will teach you what I can before I return to the mountains."

He paused.

"I will also have... questions. About how you avoided my attacks."

Kai wiped the sweat from his brow and chuckled, despite the pounding in his skull.

"Deal."

Kai limped off the arena grounds, every step a protest, his muscles shaky, his legs uncertain. He didn’t head to the healers this time. He didn’t need to. He had already drawn deeply on his own life essence, stitching his injuries together with desperate precision during the tail end of the match. The ache still lingered, but the worst of the damage was sealed away.

Still, his breath came in ragged bursts, sweat clung to his skin, and his heartbeat echoed in his ears like war drums. The fight with Fenric had left more than just bruises—it left a pressure behind his eyes, the aftershock of dodging attacks he could barely see.

’Two down. Three to go.’

He moved through the cool stone corridors of the arena’s underbelly, but the temperature began to rise unnaturally as he pressed on.

At first, he thought it was his body reacting to the exhaustion, but no.

The heat wasn’t internal.

It was radiating through the walls.

The corridor shimmered faintly, the air rippling like a desert mirage. He soon saw why.

Tarnil approached, flanked by nothing but that familiar aura of intense, blistering heat. The man’s very presence seemed to burn the world around him. The tiles beneath his boots glowed faintly orange with residual warmth, and the torch sconces on the walls flickered wildly, as if bowing to the stronger flame.

As they passed each other, Tarnil didn’t spare Kai a single glance.

Not a nod.

Not even a flick of his golden eyes.

’Not worth your time?’ Kai thought, swallowing dryly. ’Fine. Ignore me now. Just wait until we’re both on the same bracket.’

He watched Tarnil disappear down the hall toward the gates, the temperature quickly returning to normal.

By the time Kai reached the spectator stands, the soreness was gone. He flexed his fingers. Stretched his spine. His body had healed, but his reserves of life essence were lower than he liked. Still, no blood loss made things easier.

He spotted Vepice immediately. She waved with both hands, practically bouncing in place.

When he made it to her, she threw her arms around him, squeezing tightly. But gently enough to avoid reopening anything.

"You did really well!"

Kai smiled faintly and leaned into her hug.

"I almost didn’t."

"You were like a cat!" she said brightly, stepping back and holding his arms with both hands. "All fast and twitchy and grrr, swipe-swipe-swipe!"

Kai blinked.

"Yeah... not my proudest moment."

"No? I thought it was cool."

He glanced away, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

"Thanks..." He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks flushing with warmth that had nothing to do with the nearby fire mage. "Maybe next time I’ll be more tiger than housecat."

They sat together, and Kai took a deep breath, letting the energy of the crowd wash over him.

Below them, the arena floor had been repaired. Earth mages moved in practiced unison, raising shattered tiles from the ground and sealing cracks with a single chant. The dust was swept away, the scorched lines erased, and the stage reset, good as new.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the coliseum, full of flair and confidence:

"Time for the third match of the Octofinals! Brynn, our beloved six-foot-tall lady in armour! If anyone could’ve given Durg a true fight of attrition, it would’ve been her!"

The crowd responded with loud cheers.

Brynn stepped onto the arena, a hulking figure wrapped in steel. If it wasn’t for her custom breastplate, Kai might mistaken her for a man. Her armor was custom-fit—broad-shouldered, layered, and heavy, yet graceful in its construction. The breastplate had subtle etchings of wolves along the chest, and her long blond braid swayed with every step.

In her hands, she carried a massive warhammer, the head of it the size of a small barrel. When she reached her mark, she planted the weapon into the stone with a heavy thunk and folded her arms.

The heat returned.

It was immediate and intense.

"And, we have the man who may just be hotter than the sun! How he doesn’t get heatstroke is anybody’s guess!"

Tarnil emerged from the gates, his feet practically steaming against the stone.

The air shimmered around him again, forming a visible heat haze that blurred his form as if he were behind a veil of rising smoke. His eyes were molten amber, and every breath he took carried with it a whisper of flame.

Somewhere in the crowd, a spectator fainted. Another waved a hand fan rapidly.

Kai narrowed his eyes.

’How do you even fight someone who warps the world around him by just existing?’

When the two fighters stood across from each other, the tension was high.

Brynn gave Tarnil a single nod.

Then, without hesitation, she took a step back and spoke:

"I concede this fight. The Arena of Kings is not worth losing my weapons and armor for."

A stunned silence followed.

Then murmurs. Gasps. A few scattered boos.

But not many. The veterans in the stands understood.

Tarnil merely nodded, said nothing, and turned back toward the gate, his heat trailing behind him like a solar flare.

The announcer cleared his throat and made the best of the moment:

"Aaaand... that’s our shortest match yet, folks! Tarnil advances to the quarterfinals!"

Kai exhaled slowly and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

"Yeah... that man’s gonna be a problem."

Vepice looked at him, concern flickering across her face.

"You’ll figure it out. You always do."

Kai wasn’t so sure this time.