The two days of rest passed by faster than anyone had expected. What was meant to be a time to relax and recover slowly turned into a period filled with anticipation. The excitement that had been building since the end of the League Phase had now reached its peak.
And finally, the day had arrived.
The arena was once again filled to its limits. Every seat was occupied. The noise of the crowd echoed across the massive stadium, louder than ever before. This was no longer just a tournament.
This was the Knockout Phase.
No more second chances. No more points system. From here on, every match would decide everything. Win and move forward. Lose and go home.
The Round of 32 was about to begin.
Back in their preparation area, the Rising Heroes stood together, ready. This was a new stage, a new challenge. They had barely made it here, but now that they had, they were determined to go all the way.
Their opponents were already decided.
The Order of the White Pike from the Kingdom of Friendorn.
A disciplined and well-structured team known for their coordination and strength.
Their lineup was strong and balanced.
Anton, a sword user with Diamond element, known for his durability and sharp attacks.
Karl, a heavy hammer user, whose strength could shake the ground itself.
Walter, a puppet magic user, unpredictable and tricky.
Eva, a nature mage, skilled in support and control.
Petra, an earth element gauntlet user, strong both in defense and close combat.
This was not going to be an easy match.
---
Far away from the noise of the arena, in a place hidden from the eyes of the world, another story was unfolding.
Zora… or rather, Zortheus.
After the war in the ruins of never-ending dreams, he had made a decision.
He knew that after the truth about himself had been revealed his bond with Lila would never be the same. He did not try to force anything. Instead, he chose to step back.
To give her time.
To let her decide.
But that was not the only thing on his mind.
There was a greater threat.
Zalthar.
His former commander.
The one who was now moving in the shadows, collecting the jewels.
Zortheus knew that if Zalthar succeeded, the consequences would be catastrophic. And so, he decided to act.
Alongside Arachna, he traveled across the world, gathering information. Piece by piece, he tried to understand Zalthar's plan.
And then, he returned.
Returned to a place he had left behind long ago.
His dungeon.
The Dungeon of the Uncrowned King.
It had remained closed for centuries. Silent. Forgotten.
But now, it opened once again.
Not as a place of fear.
But as a base.
A hideout.
A place where he could prepare.
Zortheus did not return to become its ruler again.
He returned to remember.
To reconnect with his past.
And then, one by one…
He called upon his commanders.
They came.
Without hesitation.
Each one answered his call and gathered within the dungeon.
Zortheus explained everything, the jewels, Zalthar, the danger that was approaching.
He did not command them.
He asked.
Because this time, things were different.
But the response was immediate.
None of them cared about the circumstances.
None of them questioned him.
If he had simply told them to follow him again, they would have done so without a second thought.
They were loyal.
Not to a title.
But to him.
And just like that, the Dungeon of the Uncrowned King was alive again.
Not to defend itself.
But to face a greater threat.
They did not know Zalthar's full plan.
They did not know his true intentions.
But they knew one thing, it would not end well.
Soon after, each commander left.
Each one had a task.
To gather information.
To track the jewels.
To stop Zalthar if possible.
Even securing one jewel could make a difference.
Zalthar already had two.
And Zortheus did not know if he had more.
It had become a race.
A silent war.
But Zalthar was not unaware.
He had been watching.
From the moment Zora revealed himself as Zortheus, Zalthar had kept his eyes on him.
Every movement.
Every step.
Nothing escaped him.
Zortheus realized this quickly.
That was why he acted fast.
That was why he gathered his commanders sooner than planned.
Because while Zortheus was being watched, is commanders were not.
And that was his advantage.
Before the storm… A quiet war had already begun.
---
Back in the present.
Back in the arena.
The matches of the Round of 32 had already begun. One after another, teams fought fiercely, knowing that this was the point where everything could end.
The crowd remained as loud as ever.
Then finally, it was time.
Ifa's voice echoed across the arena.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! The following match will be between the Order of the White Pike from the Kingdom of Friendorn… and The Rising Heroes from the Kingdom of Cero!"
The crowd exploded into cheers.
The Rising Heroes stepped forward.
Their moment had arrived.
Shai followed calmly, "And for the first bout, we have Karl from the Order of the White Pike… against Doran from the Rising Heroes."
The cheers grew louder.
From one side, Karl stepped into the arena, his hammer resting on his shoulder. His presence alone felt heavy, powerful.
From the other side, Doran walked forward, his hammer in hand, a confident grin on his face.
The two fighters stood across each other.
Neither of them looked calm.
Neither of them looked hesitant.
Both of them looked eager.
Eager to fight.
Eager to prove themselves.
The atmosphere shifted.
The noise of the crowd faded into the background.
All eyes were on them.
The referee stepped forward.
Raised his hand.
And just as it was about to come down. The battle… was about to begin.