Chapter 44 — The Next Round Begins

The Royal Grand Tournament buzzed with renewed excitement. Whispers of Aric’s skill and his previous duel with Serik “Dragon Fist” filled every corner of the arena. Spectators leaned forward in anticipation, eager to witness the next clash of swords.

Kaelen stood silently at the edge of the arena, hooded and composed, eyes sharp as ever. He had prepared Aric for this moment, guiding the prince not just in technique but in strategy, anticipation, and control.

Aric stepped forward, his sword gleaming in the sunlight. The lessons of Kaelen—the rhythm of combat, observation, adaptation—were etched into his mind. He had learned to read opponents, to predict movements, and to turn their strengths against them.

Across the arena, the gates opened with a resounding creak, and a tall, muscular figure strode forward. His armor was dark and jagged, adorned with scars and symbols of countless battles. He wielded a massive, jagged greatsword, moving with an unnerving combination of brute strength and surprising agility.

The crowd murmured nervously. “Who is this?” a knight whispered. “He’s... massive! I’ve never seen such a fighter in this tournament before.”

Kaelen’s golden eyes narrowed. Vorath, the Berserker Knight… one of the highest-ranked fighters from the northern colosseum. He relies on overwhelming power, unpredictable swings, and sheer intimidation. This will test Aric’s adaptation to the extreme.

Aric tightened his grip on his sword, recalling Kaelen’s lessons. Observe the rhythm… anticipate the overextensions… control the flow… He raised his stance, chest steady, eyes locked on the incoming giant.

The duel began with a roar. Vorath charged like a storm, swinging his massive blade with ferocious speed. The first strike landed with tremendous force, forcing Aric to dodge and roll aside, feeling the shockwave ripple through the arena floor. The crowd gasped, astonished by the sheer power of the attack.

Kaelen’s voice echoed in Aric’s mind: Do not meet strength with strength. Let the rhythm of his attack guide you. Predict, anticipate, and exploit openings.

Aric adjusted quickly, feinting a strike to bait Vorath into a predictable swing. The massive knight took the bait, overextending in his fury. Aric countered, striking at a weak point in Vorath’s guard. Sparks flew, and the massive blade clanged against steel with a resounding echo.

Vorath’s eyes narrowed, a fierce grin spreading across his face. “Interesting… few have the nerve to stand against me!”

Aric pressed forward, blending his offense with careful observation, each strike a test of rhythm and adaptation. He did not simply react—he predicted, flowed, and adjusted, turning Vorath’s immense strength against him.

From the sidelines, Kaelen’s golden eyes softened with approval. He is learning faster than I anticipated. Every strike, every adjustment… he is beginning to understand the essence of combat.

The duel escalated, massive swings meeting precise counters. The arena shook with the force of Vorath’s attacks and the skillful deflections of Aric. The prince’s growth under Kaelen’s guidance was evident to all: he was no longer a novice, no longer simply reactive—he was becoming a swordsman who could stand against legends.

As Vorath paused, breathing heavily, Aric maintained his stance, ready for the next move. The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps, witnessing the start of an epic confrontation that would define the next stage of the tournament.

The Royal Grand Tournament had entered a new, dangerous phase, and Aric was prepared—not just to survive, but to excel.