The day of the Obsidian Tournament arrived with an oppressive stillness in the air. Kalen and Sorin stood on the steps of the arena, the massive structure looming before them, its jagged, obsidian walls reflecting the cold, dark light of the Ascendant Citadel. The entrance was a vast archway, framed by ancient carvings of battles and victories from centuries past, reminders of the countless lives that had been claimed within.
Kalen adjusted the jade token in his hand, feeling its weight. The energy within it pulsed, resonating with the power of the tournament grounds. As they stepped forward, the token in Kalen’s grip glowed faintly and was absorbed into the air. The entrance opened wider, granting them access to the inner sanctum of the arena.
Sorin let out a low whistle as they walked inside, his eyes sweeping over the grandstands that were already filled with spectators from every corner of the Ascendant Citadel. “Looks like they’re expecting quite the show.”
Kalen gave a small nod, his face impassive. He could feel the eyes of the crowd on them—thousands of cultivators, warriors, and powerful figures, all gathered to witness the tournament. But more than that, he felt the weight of the challenge ahead. This wasn’t just a competition of strength. It was a trial of survival.
As they approached the staging area, a massive figure stepped out from the shadows. Clad in black armor with a crimson mask that hid his face, the figure exuded a terrifying aura. This was Vaarak, the chief overseer of the tournament and one of the highest-ranking figures in the Black Lotus Sect.
“Contestants, step forward,” Vaarak’s voice boomed, echoing across the arena floor. Kalen and Sorin joined the other cultivators gathering near the arena's center, each one radiating a different type of energy. Some wielded the power of flame and lightning, others controlled the very earth beneath their feet, while others seemed to distort the air with their mere presence.
Sorin eyed the competition with a wolfish grin. “Looks like we’ve got a colorful cast to play with.”
Kalen didn’t respond. He was already scanning the area, calculating the strengths and weaknesses of the cultivators around them. It was clear that this would not be a simple battle of skill—each one of these fighters had something unique, something dangerous.
“The rules of the tournament are simple,” Vaarak continued, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd. “You fight, you survive, and if you’re strong enough, you win. The last one standing moves on to the next stage. And the rewards for the victors… are beyond what most of you can comprehend.”
Kalen and Sorin exchanged glances. This was what they had been preparing for.
Stolen story; please report.
With a wave of Vaarak’s hand, the floor beneath the contestants shifted, creating multiple platforms suspended in the air by dark chains that crisscrossed the arena. The platforms floated at different heights and distances from one another, adding another layer of complexity to the battle.
The crowd roared in approval, and Kalen felt the arena’s energy surge as the fight was about to begin. Each participant’s token activated, projecting a protective barrier around them. It wouldn’t last long—just enough to withstand the first wave of attacks.
“Let the tournament begin!” Vaarak shouted, and the barrier around Kalen flickered and vanished, leaving him exposed.
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THE FIRST CLASH
No sooner had the barriers dropped than the arena erupted in chaos. Cultivators launched themselves from platform to platform, spells and weapon techniques clashing mid-air. The sound of metal on metal, explosions of elemental energy, and the roar of the crowd merged into a deafening cacophony.
Kalen ducked just in time as a bolt of lightning shot past him, shattering a nearby platform. He twisted his body, summoning the Voidflame Abyss around his fists, and leaped to another platform where two cultivators were locked in combat.
Without hesitation, Kalen unleashed a torrent of black flames, the abyssal energy swallowing the air. The two cultivators had barely a moment to react before they were consumed, their screams lost in the din of battle.
Sorin, meanwhile, had already engaged three opponents at once. His fighting style was brutal and efficient, every blow infused with his combat-oriented technique. With each opponent he struck down, he absorbed a portion of their power, his energy growing more intense with every kill. His body glowed with a fierce, red aura as he moved like a hurricane through the battlefield.
Kalen continued to dispatch opponents with precision, his focus never wavering. He knew that the real threats had yet to reveal themselves. As he fought, his mind worked through the intricacies of the tournament—the platforms, the positioning, the strategies. He needed to conserve his strength and avoid revealing too much of his power too soon.
Then, a sudden wave of icy cold hit the arena. Kalen’s eyes narrowed as a figure descended from above. It was one of the stronger cultivators, a man cloaked in frost, his aura exuding an overwhelming chill.
Kalen didn’t hesitate. He summoned the Voidflame Abyss once more, the flames coiling around him like serpents. The frozen cultivator sent shards of ice toward Kalen, but the black flames devoured them before they could reach him.
The two locked eyes for a brief moment, and Kalen could see the recognition in the man’s gaze. This was no ordinary opponent.
The frozen cultivator launched himself at Kalen, a spear of ice forming in his hands. Kalen responded in kind, his flames roaring to life as he met the attack head-on. Their energies collided in a blinding flash of light, the platform beneath them cracking under the strain.
Kalen felt the weight of the frost against his flames, but he knew he couldn’t afford to let this drag out. With a surge of power, he funneled all his energy into a single strike, shattering the ice spear and engulfing the man in the voidflame.
The frozen cultivator fell, consumed by the flames, and the platform beneath them crumbled, forcing Kalen to leap to safety.
As he landed on a new platform, Kalen looked around the arena. The number of contestants had thinned considerably, but the real battles were still ahead.
And he knew that the tournament was only just beginning