Riku’s boots echoed against the cobbled streets as he made his way through the bustling city. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meats, fresh bread, and the occasional whiff of saltwater from the nearby docks. The city was alive—people haggling in the market stalls, children darting through crowds, and travelers like Riku moving through it all with purpose. Despite the vibrant energy of the city, Riku’s thoughts were focused on something else: the tournament.
A large banner hung above the busy square, its bold text catching Riku's eye: City Tournament: Glory, Gold, and Renown Awaits. Beneath it, a sea of competitors gathered, most of them fresh-faced and eager, their eyes filled with excitement. The tournament promised riches, fame, and a chance to prove oneself to the world.
Riku stopped for a moment, considering his options. It had been a long journey to deliver a rare herb for his guild, and the contract had finally been fulfilled. But the prize money the tournament offered could solve more than just his immediate needs. It was more than that—it was the challenge. His combat training, pushed to its limits in the Wildlands, had left him seeking something greater, something to push his skills even further.
He looked at the registration booth. It seemed like a sign.
With a resigned sigh, he walked up and signed his name on the scroll, quickly finishing the necessary paperwork. The clerk handed him a small token, a round metal badge inscribed with the tournament’s insignia.
“The tournament starts in three days. Be ready,” the clerk said, his voice indifferent.
Riku tucked the badge away and walked off, his resolve firm. This would be more than just a competition—it would be a test of his abilities. A chance to prove that his training, his discipline, had prepared him for the greatest challenges.
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The Tournament Grounds
The day of the tournament arrived, and Riku stood before the grand coliseum, his eyes scanning the massive structure. The arena was filled with the buzz of excited competitors, each of them talking strategy, sizing up their opponents. The tournament was a spectacle, and the atmosphere crackled with energy.
Riku made his way to the staging area, a vast collection of tents and open spaces where competitors were warming up and strategizing. Among the crowd, he saw the usual mix of people—mercenaries, adventurers, and skilled warriors, all here for one reason: to claim victory.
He wasn’t impressed by most of them. While some had experience, none of them matched his level. His training, pushed by his rigorous self-discipline, had given him stats that were far beyond the norm. His speed, strength, and endurance were at their peak—likely beyond what most tournament competitors could even imagine.
But then, his eyes landed on one person—a woman with short red hair and a piercing gaze. She was surrounded by her team, all of them veterans of various mercenary bands. Riku recognized her instantly: Mara, one of the most dangerous mercenaries he'd encountered in the Wildlands.
Mara’s eyes met his, a brief flicker of recognition passing between them. There was no hostility, just a shared understanding of what lay ahead. The tournament wasn’t just a chance to make money—it was a place where the best would be tested.
“You here for the tournament too?” Mara asked, her voice low but sharp.
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Riku nodded. “I need the prize money. But I’m not here just for that. I’m here to test myself.”
She smirked. “We’ll see how well your skills hold up against the real competition.”
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Training and Rivals
In the two days leading up to the tournament, Riku spent most of his time honing his techniques. There was no need to test his strength—the training he had undergone in the Wildlands had already brought his stats to their peak. Now, it was about precision. He focused on speed, combat reflexes, and making sure his strategies were flawless. He was faster, stronger, and more agile than any of the competition, and it was time to use that to his advantage.
As Riku entered the tournament grounds on the first day of competition, he could feel the weight of the crowd's anticipation. The excitement was tangible as competitors filed into their designated arenas. The first round would be a test of skill, and Riku’s stats were likely to give him an overwhelming advantage.
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The First Round
Riku’s first opponent was a Level 15 swordsman named Jorin. Jorin was strong—his sword a massive weapon designed for sheer force—but he lacked speed and finesse. His attacks were wild and unrefined, relying on brute strength to overpower his opponents.
As soon as the match began, Jorin rushed at Riku with a roar, his sword raised high. But Riku didn’t flinch. He sidestepped the first attack with ease, his footwork smooth and precise. Jorin’s sword cleaved through the air where Riku had just been, the momentum of the strike sending the swordsman off balance.
Riku’s response was immediate. In the split second that Jorin overextended, Riku closed the distance between them, landing a clean blow to the side of Jorin’s head with the flat of his blade. The force of the strike sent Jorin staggering back, disoriented. Riku wasn’t about to give him a chance to recover. With a few quick, well-placed strikes, Jorin was defeated in under a minute.
The crowd erupted in cheers. The first round was over as quickly as it had begun, and Riku’s superior stats and speed had carried him through without breaking a sweat.
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The Second Round
Next up was Kira, a Level 17 acrobat known for her agility and unpredictable combat style. She darted around the arena, using flips and aerial attacks to keep her opponents on the defensive.
But Riku wasn’t fazed. He knew that while Kira’s acrobatics might confuse lesser fighters, her speed and agility wouldn’t be enough to overcome his superior strength and agility. As Kira launched herself into a flip, Riku watched her carefully, waiting for her to make a mistake.
When she landed in front of him, Riku was already there, his blade catching the light as he moved to strike. Kira attempted a quick roll to the side, but Riku was faster. He blocked her attempted counterattack and struck her legs, sending her tumbling to the ground.
With her mobility compromised, Kira had little left to fight with. Riku ended the match quickly, disarming her with a swift movement and sending her sprawling to the floor. She yielded, acknowledging Riku’s overwhelming power.
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The Third Round: Mara
Now came the true challenge: Mara, the mercenary who had been watching him from the beginning. As they faced off in the arena, Riku could feel the weight of the fight. Mara was a skilled fighter, but her raw power and experience didn’t match his stats. This wasn’t about brute force—it was about precision, and Riku’s precision had been honed to perfection.
Mara didn’t waste any time. She attacked first, moving like a storm with lightning-fast strikes, her blade a blur of motion. But Riku was prepared. He moved with a calm focus, anticipating her attacks and countering with ease. Every strike she threw at him was deflected or dodged as if he were reading her movements before they happened.
The crowd watched in awe as Riku dismantled Mara’s offensive with minimal effort, his movements smooth and deliberate. When Mara finally made a desperate attempt to land a finishing blow, Riku saw the opening—a split-second where she exposed her flank. With a flash, he took advantage, landing a precise strike that left her disarmed and on the ground.
Mara looked up at him, breathing heavily, her pride bruised but her respect for him evident.
“You’re stronger than I thought,” she admitted, standing up. “You’ve earned your victory.”
Riku nodded, his expression calm. “I don’t fight for victory. I fight to push myself beyond what I’ve already achieved.”
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As the tournament progressed, Riku’s reputation spread. Each fight was an effortless display of his superior stats and combat prowess. But this was just the beginning. The true challenge lay ahead.