After we entered the arena, we were invited to sit in the stands. On the sides, I saw TV journalists, social media crews, and cameras everywhere. That's when I realized — the event was being broadcast on live television. So much for keeping my techniques secret. In the end, the whole world would see them.
Once I sat down, Canou Gérard walked onto the stage.
"Hello everyone. Today is a special day for all of you. You have the chance to change your life — to be one of the hundred I'll take with me to Australia to become cultivators. So, good luck, and give it everything you've got!"
Applause filled the air. Then, the referee stepped into the arena to announce the first match.
"The first fighters are Tony Morga and Antonio Sinastra."
As soon as I heard my name, I stood up and walked to the center. I sized up my opponent — he looked experienced, but I figured I wouldn't need to use my new technique. Still, I stayed cautious. Anything can happen. We met at the center, and Antonio looked me straight in the eyes.
"You really had the guts to show up here after what you did to the great Lucien Mordy? Don't worry, I'll set things straight."
Hearing that made me feel good. Nothing like someone who thinks they're better than you — it makes knocking them out even more satisfying.
The referee raised his hand, then lowered it. The fight had begun.
He lunged at me immediately, wooden sword in hand. His confidence came from the fact that he was armed, and I wasn't. His sword technique was mediocre — he only aimed for my head, which made it easy to dodge. But you don't win a fight just by dodging.
He tried a feint, pretending to go for my stomach but aiming for my chin instead. I deflected it, ducked, and countered with a quick combo: a kick to the liver, an elbow to the solar plexus, and an uppercut to the chin with my right elbow. He collapsed instantly.
Unless you're a cultivator, that combo to the liver and plexus is enough to drop anyone — even me.
"This match is over! The winner by KO: Tony Morga!"
I walked back to my seat. Joseph was hyped after my fight. To conserve my energy, I decided to nap.
Thirty minutes later, Joseph woke me up. It was his turn, and he wanted me to watch. His opponent was a girl named Tonia. Just by looking at her, I could tell she was strong. This wouldn't be easy for him.
The match began. Tonia, wielding a katana, charged at him. Her strikes were quick and precise, each one aiming for Joseph's vital points. At first, he only blocked. Then, in a flash, he drew his wooden sword and slashed diagonally. The strike was so fast we didn't even see the second hit — it landed squarely on Tonia's chin. She remained standing… but didn't move.
The referee approached, checked her condition, and ended the match.
KO.
The entire arena stared at Joseph. His strike had been so powerful and clean that it even tore her sweater. I had underestimated him.
An hour later, the first round was over. It was my turn again — this time, I was up against someone named Mox.
As the match began, I raised my guard like a boxer, hoping he'd think I specialized in that style. He charged toward me, threw a punch — a feint — and went for a takedown. Even though I saw through it, he still managed to bring me to the ground. He grabbed my left arm and attempted a joint lock. I felt the tension in my wrist twisting. In response, I tensed all the muscles in my right arm, opened my hand, pressed my fingers together, and drove them hard into the center of his throat.
The impact was brutal. He immediately let go of my arm.
Before getting up, I gave him a quick hit to the chin — not strong enough for a KO, but enough to stun him. I stood up before he could and launched a Brazilian kick followed by a spinning roundhouse — both straight to the head.
He couldn't take the double combo and collapsed.
The referee ended the match. I walked back to my seat, thinking: That fight could've gone badly for me... Around me, some people stared with fear, hoping they wouldn't have to face me next. Others looked at me with the fire of competition in their eyes.
I chose not to sleep this time and kept watching the next fights. Most weren't very interesting… until the moment I was waiting for.
Joseph was back, facing Martin Gasto — a spoiled rich kid with way too much confidence. Joseph, still calm and focused, had his sword. Martin held two sharp wooden daggers.
The match started.
They rushed at each other. Joseph slashed diagonally. Martin blocked and countered with a kick, pushing Joseph back. As he staggered, Joseph noticed Martin's daggers had vanished.
A trick.
Martin sprinted forward and punched. Joseph caught his hand, twisted it, and pulled down with his weight. Suddenly, a kick came from the side, slamming into Joseph's head. The bastard had sacrificed his arm just to create an opening.
Joseph fell — but as he did, he swept Martin's legs. Both crashed to the ground.
Joseph took the opportunity. He drew his sword and delivered a rapid combo: one strike to the left ribs, one to the stomach, one to the right ribs, and finally one clean hit to the jaw.
Both lay motionless on the ground… for five long seconds.
Then Joseph got up.
— The winner by KO: Joseph!
The crowd was in total agreement — this had been the best fight of the day. Joseph returned and sat next to me… then immediately fell asleep.