The arena roared with anticipation as the informers stepped forward.
"It's time, Rajan. Come to the stage." "Mr. Karikalan, it's time for your match. Please come to the stage."
Both men rose, walking through the aisle of the path surrounded by fans. The lights flashed, banners waved, and the crowd's energy surged like a storm.
Rajan's entrance was met with thunderous applause. The second most powerful fighter after Elara, he was adored by the masses.
His friends and besties from last night's party cheered wildly, their voices echoing through the arena. "Raj! Kick that brat out of the ring!"
Karikalan's walk was different. As he stepped into the aisle, the cheers turned to boos.
Elara's and Rajan's supporters jeered, their voices sharp and mocking. "Get him out! Raj will finish him in five rounds!"
From the stands, Elara's girlfriend leaned close to him, her voice dripping with confidence. "Raj, remember what you said. Knock him out within five rounds. Show that punk his place."
Elara sat calmly, his eyes fixed on the ring. Outwardly composed, inwardly thoughtful. "It won't be easy for Rajan to knock him out in five rounds. Karikalan is on a whole other level. I didn't come here to watch Rajan win. I came to see how he fights against the one who dared to call him a brat."
The crowd's noise swelled, but beneath it, the tension between the fighters was palpable. Two paths converging, two vows colliding. The stage was set.
Richard leaned forward in his seat, eyes narrowing as the crowd booed Karikalan's entrance. "Why are these people booing when he entered the ring?" he asked, his voice curious but sharp.
Beside him, Veera crossed his arms, his tone calm but evasive. "Yeah… it's because of the stuff that happened five years ago."
Richard's eyes widened. "What's that? Tell me."
Veera shook his head. "I'll tell you after the match."
Richard groaned, leaning closer. "Oh, come on, little boy. Tell me now! It sounds interesting. There's still time before the fight starts — don't let me sit here like paint drying. Tell me the story… no, tell me the stuff that caused the rivalry between Elara and Karikalan."
Veera's voice grew firm. "No! I'm sorry. The match will begin soon, and I want to see it. This rivalry is going to be far bigger than their pride."
Richard smirked, his patience gone. "That doesn't matter now, brat. Tell me about the rivalry stuff, or else I'll knock you out, you idiot."
In a flash, Richard grabbed Veera by the neck, holding him effortlessly. "Please leave me, you big guy!" Veera squeaked, struggling.
Richard chuckled darkly. "I won't let go until you spill the beans."
The two scuffled playfully, trading light punches and shoves, their mock fight drawing laughter from nearby spectators. Amid the tension of the arena, their antics brought a moment of levity — a reminder that even in the shadow of great rivalries, friendship and humor could still shine.
The referee's voice echoed across the arena. "Standing at 175 pounds, known for the strongest fist in town… Rajan!"
The crowd erupted, cheers shaking the stadium. Rajan stepped forward, confidence radiating. His friends and besties from the party shouted his name, the girls screaming with admiration.
"Look at that body! That's exactly what I want from him!" "You're too good, Raj! Kick that brat out of the ring!"
Rajan smirked, basking in the attention.
"Thank you, ladies," he said aloud, while inside his mind whispered: "They believe in me. My body, my strength… this confidence will carry me. I will win."
The announcer's voice rose again. "And his opponent, from Coimbatore, weighing 175 pounds… the dark horse of the tournament… Karikalan!"
Boos rained down as Karikalan walked calmly to his corner. He ignored the jeers, his eyes steady, his mind unshaken.
"Hmm… interesting. Rajan has worked hard on his fitness. But I don't care about him or those cocky girls in the arena."
Then, with deliberate calm, Karikalan removed his shirt.
The arena fell silent. Gasps rippled through the crowd. His body was a revelation — shredded, powerful, sculpted like a warrior forged for battle.
Even Rajan's eyes widened in disbelief. "What… a demon back he has. It transcends my beliefs. He completely transformed himself for this fight."
From the stands,
Elara's girlfriend leaned toward him, her voice tinged with awe. "I know Rajan will win, but I have to give credit to Karikalan. I never thought he'd push his fitness this far. It gives him an advantage."
Elara's eyes narrowed, his tone calm but thoughtful as he replied to Rani. "
Yes… he's worked hard. This fight won't be simple. Rajan may have the crowd, but Karikalan has something far more dangerous — resolve."
First Round: Karikalan vs. Rajan
The bell rang, slicing through the tension of the arena. Without a blink, Rajan lunged forward, his fist cutting through the air like a predator's strike. The blow crashed against Karikalan's guard, forcing him back into the corner. The ropes quivered, the ring itself shook under the sheer force of Rajan's punch.
Karikalan braced himself with a cross arm block, his muscles straining against the devastating impact. His body trembled, pinned by Rajan's relentless power.
"What is he thinking? Does he believe he can crush me with brute force alone? If I keep defending like this, I'll lose. I must act now… or I'll be trapped forever." Karikalan's thoughts burned quietly as the crowd roared.
The arena erupted in thunderous chants: "Do it, Rajan! Kick his ass! Finish him in this round!" Voices merged into a single wave, shaking the stadium: "Rajan! Rajan! Rajan!"
Richard, mesmerized, leaned forward. "Incredible… the crowd is electrified by Rajan's dominance.
" Veera smirked. "What's with this desperate cheering? It's overwhelming… but interesting."
Rajan pressed on, fists flying like hammers, each strike echoing with the crowd's energy. Karikalan's guard held, but his silence was deafening. Then, with a sudden shift, Karikalan began to weave past the punches, his movements sharp and precise.
The crowd gasped as Rajan's fists struck nothing but air. Karikalan's eyes narrowed, and he threw a counterpunch aimed at Rajan's ribs — a strike born not of desperation, but of calculation.
Before the blow could land, the referee stepped in, raising his hand.
"Stop! End of Round One! Fighters, return to your corners!"
The crowd booed, frustrated by the interruption. Rajan raised his arms, basking in the cheers, his pride swelling with the arena's adoration. Karikalan walked silently back to his corner, his demon back glistening under the lights, his calm presence radiating menace.
Between Rounds: Karikalan vs. Rajan
The fighters sat in their corners, sweat dripping, breaths heavy. The crowd's roar still echoed through the arena, chanting Rajan's name like thunder.
Rajan clenched his fists, his mind racing: "How did he counter my punch so easily? How did he slip past my guard and aim for my ribs? No… it's because he's shorter than me. That's his advantage. He can weave under my reach, dodge, and strike where I least expect. I can't let him use that against me."
Across the ring, Karikalan sat in silence, his demon back glistening under the lights. His thoughts were calm but resolute: "You are a hard puncher, Rajan. I admit it. And I acknowledge the crowd that supports you.
The odds are against me, but I admire your strength. Still… this is not the end. I made a vow, and today I will fulfill it."
Rani leaned toward Elara, her eyes fixed on the fighters.
"Karikalan couldn't dodge Rajan's punches in the first round, but in those last few minutes he gained momentum. He even tried to counter with a rib shot. The height difference between them has its pros and cons. Rajan's reach is longer, but Karikalan's shorter frame lets him slip inside."
She turned to Elara with a curious smile. "What's your thought? Who will win this match? Do you want to face your friend Rajan in the final… or that dark horse Karikalan?"
Elara's gaze was steady, his voice calm and unwavering:
"Well… I am unaware of it, and I am not perturbed. Whoever reaches the final to face me, I will win. No matter their odds, no matter their strength… I will defeat them."
Round 2: Rajan vs. Karikalan
The bell rang again, and Rajan wasted no time. He surged forward, fists flying in a blur, his speed igniting the crowd into another frenzy.
But this time, Karikalan did not raise his guard. Instead, he slipped past each strike, weaving with relentless precision. His silence was unnerving, his movements sharp as a blade.
Rajan snarled, forcing Karikalan toward the corner. His fists hammered like thunder, each blow shaking the ring. Karikalan lifted his arms into a cross arm defense, absorbing the storm.
Inside his mind, Rajan's pride burned: "It's time. I'll finish him now. My uppercut punch — no defense can withstand it. Even a cross arm block will shatter under its force. At least one bone will break. This blow will end him."
With a roar, Rajan launched his uppercut, his fist tearing upward with devastating power.
At the last instant, Karikalan twisted away — escaping by the skin of his teeth. The punch missed its mark, but its force ripped through the ring ropes.
The arena froze. The ropes snapped, collapsing under the sheer impact.
Gasps echoed across the stadium: "The ropes broke… what kind of power is this?" "If that landed on Karikalan, he'd be dead!"
The audience was both terrified and mesmerized. Rajan's strength was undeniable, his uppercut a weapon that could destroy more than just opponents.
Rani's eyes widened. "That uppercut… it's powerful enough to cut the ropes. If it lands, Karikalan is finished."
Elara smirked, his voice cold and confident: "So this is why he vowed to defeat him today. Nice, Rajan. Keep dancing. But when you reach the final, I'll knock sense into you myself. And Karikalan… you think vows can win fights? Look at you. You can't even land a single punch. What a failure."
Between Rounds: The Roar of the Crowd
The arena shook not from punches, but from voices. As workers rushed to repair the broken ropes, the crowd grew louder, their chants echoing like thunder:
"Rajan! Rajan! Karikalan sucks! Karikalan sucks!"
The entire stadium seemed united against Karikalan, their cheers painting Rajan as the champion before the fight was even decided.
Karikalan sat in his corner, fists clenched, his silence boiling into fury.
"So this is it… they cheer for him because he's their favorite? Dammit. How dare they insult me with their 'you suck' slang. I cannot accept this anymore. I will show them — I will show them what the true power of a common man looks like."
His vow burned brighter than the crowd's noise, his demon back glistening under the lights.
On the other side, Rajan wiped sweat from his brow, his pride still intact despite the missed uppercut.
"Dammit… I couldn't connect the uppercut. He dodged it, even against the odds. But he was afraid — I saw it in his eyes. He fears my punches. In the third round, I'll finish him. Once I win, I'll challenge Elara for the title. This is my path, my destiny."
Rajan's fists tightened, his confidence unshaken, his mind already in the finals.
Round 3: The Turning Point
The bell rang for the third round. Rajan exploded forward, his fists blazing, determined to end the fight. His punch cut through the air with the same devastating speed that had shaken the ring before.
But this time, Karikalan moved differently. He slipped to the side of Rajan's arm with lightning precision, his body weaving past the blow like water flowing around stone. In a single motion, Karikalan unleashed a counterpunch — a sharp strike aimed directly at Rajan's right arm.
The Impact
The punch landed with a crack that echoed across the arena. Rajan staggered, his eyes wide.
"What… what is this? I can't raise my hand… it's stuck! The pain… I've never felt a punch like this before. This is one hell of a punch."
His confidence faltered, his pride shaken. For the first time, Rajan realized Karikalan's silence hid a terrifying strength.
The audience gasped, their chants faltering. "Did you see that? Rajan's arm… he can't move it!" "Karikalan landed a clean counter! That's insane!"
The cheers for Rajan wavered, replaced by murmurs of shock. The tide of the fight was beginning to turn.
Karikalan's body moved like lightning, weaving in a zig zag rhythm that left trails of speed in the air. Rajan's fists lashed out, but each strike met only emptiness. Karikalan slipped past them effortlessly, his movements fluid, instinctive — as if his body already knew where the blows would land.
With a fraction of a second's precision, Karikalan darted to the side of Rajan's arm and unleashed a sharp jab. The punch connected with Rajan's right arm, sending a jolt of pain through his body.
Rajan staggered, his pride cracking under the weight of realization.
"What is this? He's moving without hesitation… without glazing. Is this instinct? I can't land a single punch on him. My arm… it hurts. That jab… it's unlike anything I've ever felt."
The arena erupted in disbelief. "Am I dreaming? He's moving so fast I can't even see him!" whispered one spectator. Others shouted desperately: "Come on, Raj! Punch him! You can do it!"
Rajan's friends tried to rally him, their cheers echoing even as their champion faltered. But the crowd's awe was undeniable — Karikalan's speed had stolen their breath.
Rani's voice trembled as she turned to Elara:
"Despite the crowd favoring Rajan, Karikalan is punching without breaking a sweat. He's moving so fast I can't even follow his fight. His jab landed clean — Rajan's arm is damaged. I'm afraid… what happens if Rajan fails?"
Elara's eyes narrowed, his calm demeanor shaken for the first time.
"What is happening? His speed… it's unreal. That jab may look simple, but it's devastating. It hurt Rajan's right arm badly. I can't believe what I'm seeing. This guy… Karikalan… he's no joke."
The fight raged on. Rajan's right hand throbbed with pain, the jab from Karikalan echoing through his bones. Yet he refused to fall. His legs held firm, his pride forcing him to stand tall.
He swung with his left, desperate to regain control. But Karikalan had already seen through him. With Rajan's right arm crippled, his attacks were predictable, his rhythm broken. Karikalan slipped past each jab with ease, his movements sharp and fluid.
Rajan's Thoughts
"Dammit… my right hand… injured by just a jab. The pain is unbearable. I never thought this guy would give me such a tough time. I have to do something… anything… or I'll lose everything."
The Flash
Suddenly, Karikalan surged forward in a blur. His speed was blinding, his intent razor sharp. Before Rajan could react, Karikalan's fist shot upward — a clean jab aimed straight at his face.
Rajan tried to retreat, his body jerking back in desperation. But it was too late.
The jab landed.
Crowd Reaction
The arena erupted in chaos. Gasps, screams, and disbelief filled the air.
"He hit Rajan's face! Karikalan landed it!" "No way… Rajan couldn't dodge…!"
The chants faltered, the crowd's loyalty shaken. For the first time, Rajan's aura of invincibility cracked before their eyes.
Elara's eyes widened, his calm demeanor shaken.
"That jab… it landed on Rajan. He calculated perfectly, retreating at the right moment, yet Karikalan's fist still reached him. His arms… they flex longer than most. That's his advantage. Every jab he throws hurts — more than it should."
Karikalan pressed forward, his movements sharp and merciless. He unleashed a barrage of jabs, each one hammering into Rajan's stomach. The blows were relentless, like cannonballs pounding a ship caught in a storm.
Rajan's Struggle
Rajan staggered, his guard barely holding. "It still hurts… every jab feels like fire. He's launching them without pause, without mercy.
Dammit… it's pissing me off. I never thought a poor guy like him would push me this far."
His pride cracked under the weight of pain. His body trembled, his breath ragged.
Crowd Reaction
The arena fell silent. The chants of "Rajan! Rajan!" faded into whispers. Spectators murmured in disbelief: "He's being beaten… by Karikalan… a nobody." "I can't watch this anymore. I'm leaving."
Faces turned pale, their champion's suffering too much to bear. Shock and sadness rippled through the crowd as their favorite was dismantled before their eyes.
The Breaking Point
Karikalan's final jab struck with brutal precision. Rajan's mouth split, blood spraying across the ring. The sight froze the arena.
Rajan staggered, clutching his stomach, his body wracked with pain he could no longer endure. His aura of invincibility shattered, replaced by the image of a man broken under the fists of the dark horse.
Between Rounds: Silence Before the Storm
The referee's whistle cut through the chaos, forcing both fighters back to their corners. The ring was heavy with silence, the crowd's roar now replaced by uneasy murmurs.
Rajan staggered, his legs trembling beneath him. He collapsed onto the stool, clutching his chest, his breath ragged. His thoughts spiraled:
"What's happening to me? Why is the crowd so silent? Where are my friends? They're gone… did they realize I'll be beaten, left lying on the ground permanently? They didn't even stand for me when I was in the cat on the hot roof. Did I betray them by promising to knock him out in five rounds? No… no. Just focus. Just focus. I will win this match."
His pride flickered like a dying flame, but his will refused to extinguish.
Karikalan's Perspective
Across the ring, Karikalan sat upright, his eyes locked on Rajan's suffering. His voice was calm, his thoughts sharp:
"He cannot endure this pain for long. Because these are not mere jabs. They are striking flash punches. Each one looks like a simple jab, deceiving the opponent. But every strike lands at the precise point of muscle, tearing fibers, breaking the body's ability to hold itself together. That is why his arm trembles, why his legs falter."
Karikalan's gaze hardened. "What should I do now? Continue the punishment… or end this once and for all?"