Arata, his Wolf Ringmaster form radiating a dark, feral energy, closed in on Alex with merciless precision. His figure blurred, leaving faint shadows as he darted across the battlefield, each step effortlessly closing the distance between them.

“That’s it?” Arata sneered, catching Alex’s desperate punch with one hand. He twisted Alex’s arm back, sending him stumbling. “This is what they call the Lion Ringmaster?” His voice dripped with mockery, each word punctuated by a hard, scornful laugh. “Some king you are.”

Alex's fists clenched, his pride stung deeper than the bruises Arata left. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself back up, attempting to strike again. But Arata was faster, slipping behind him and landing a brutal kick to his back, sending him crashing to the ground.

“You’re pathetic, Alex. Really, this is embarrassing,” Arata jeered, circling Alex, who lay struggling to push himself up, his breaths ragged. “Did you think you could actually challenge me? The Wolf Ringmaster doesn’t kneel.”

Alex spat blood to the side, his gaze defiant despite the pain etched across his face. “Keep talking, Arata. You’re going to regret this.”

Arata smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure. But right now, all I see is a beaten lion.” He knelt beside Alex and flicked his fingers against Alex’s forehead, taunting him further. “C’mon, where’s that pride of yours? Show me the power of a king.”

With a fierce growl, Alex lunged forward, but Arata sidestepped with ease, driving his fist into Alex’s side with brutal force. The impact echoed, and Alex’s legs buckled. He fell again, coughing as he tried to catch his breath.

“Is that all, Lion?” Arata's grin widened, reveling in his complete control of the fight. “They talk about your pride, but I don’t see anything but empty words.”

But beneath the mocking, beneath the unrelenting blows, something flickered within Alex. A dark, untapped well of strength. His heartbeat thundered, louder than Arata’s jeers, louder than the pain consuming his body. He felt a surge within him, the rumble of something ancient, a dormant power clawing its way to the surface.

Arata paused, his expression flickering with a moment of confusion as Alex’s energy began to change. A deep, steady hum radiated from Alex, filling the air with a dense, oppressive force. His bruises, his cuts—they all began to glow with a fierce golden light, as if his body were reforging itself.

“You wanted a king?” Alex’s voice rumbled, low and steady, but laced with a menacing edge. “Then you’re about to get one.”

Golden light erupted from him, blinding, engulfing his form until Arata had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, Alex stood taller, his Lion Ringmaster form transformed. His once feral mane was now a regal crown of energy, his muscles coiled with newfound strength. He emitted a powerful, steady aura that sent a wave of heat and pressure through the battlefield. The ground beneath him cracked, unable to withstand the sheer force he exuded.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Arata blinked, caught off guard. But the flicker of surprise quickly shifted to a twisted smile.

“Well, well…” he chuckled, almost impressed. “Looks like the lion finally woke up.”

Alex raised his head, eyes burning with the resolve of a king. “I told you, Arata. You’ll regret this.”

As the tension crackled in the air, the two Ringmasters stood poised, ready to unleash everything they had. The battle was no longer a game of dominance—it was a fight between two kings, each determined to prove his worth.

The battlefield lay in tense silence, Alex’s golden aura casting a powerful glow that seemed to make the ground tremble. He held his head high, his gaze fierce and unwavering, the kingly power radiating from him like a storm barely contained.

“You had a chance, Arata,” Alex’s voice echoed, filled with a dark promise. “A chance to give up. You could’ve walked away, come with me, and nothing would’ve happened to you. But now…” He clenched his fists, the air around him crackling. “Now, I want to give you death.”

From beneath his visor, Arata’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes gleaming with defiance. He offered no response, only a silent, mocking laugh that seemed to infuriate Alex even more.

In a shadowed corner, Angel knelt protectively over Elio, her gaze flickering between the two combatants. She could feel the immense pressure building, almost suffocating, and a faint whisper escaped her lips.

“Arata… will you be okay?”

Arata’s hand twitched, a silent acknowledgment, his smirk widening as if her words were a reassurance he didn’t need. His stance shifted, bracing himself as Alex’s energy spiked, filling the air with an intense, pulsing heat.

And then, as if propelled by some unseen force, they launched toward each other, their clash sending shockwaves across the battlefield.

In a quiet, secluded part of the city, Carly and Lila moved swiftly, their expressions tense. They rounded a corner and stopped abruptly as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, waiting for them. Carly nodded in acknowledgment, her voice firm as she began to explain the situation, urgency woven through every word. “Things are heating up fast. Alex… he’s awakened something we’ve never seen before.”

Lila’s gaze flickered with concern. “And he’s not holding back. Arata’s in real trouble.” She clenched her fists, knowing the depth of Alex’s fury and how dangerous his new power could be.

Back on the battlefield, the clash of energy was deafening. Alex’s transformed, kingly Lion form loomed over Arata, his eyes blazing with determination. Alex lunged forward, delivering a blow with such ferocity that it shattered Arata’s visor, the fragments scattering as blood traced a thin line down Arata’s face.

“You should use it, Arata,” Angela’s voice resonated from within his Angel ring, urgent and sharp. “Transform into your Angel Ringmaster form! You need this!”

But Arata gritted his teeth, stubbornly refusing to obey. Instead, he let Alex’s fists rain down on him, blow after brutal blow. Each strike tore at his defenses, leaving his face bloodied, bruises darkening under the growing swell of pain. Yet, even as his breaths grew ragged, he refused to yield.

Alex delivered a final, crushing blow, forcing Arata to his knees, his blood dripping onto the ground. But as the dust settled, Alex’s triumphant expression faltered. Even beaten, with his face a mask of cuts and bruises, Arata lifted his head, a faint, defiant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.