The night air was heavy, as if the grudges themselves had seized it.
In the centre stood a massive rock. Rivan sat on it like it was an ancient throne. His old coat was spread on the ground; that was the betting table. Coins, spirit stones, rare tokens rained down on it.
Cold indifference on his face, eyes darker than anyone could read.
Beside him stood Mukul, a skinny fifteen-year-old who treated Rivan like blood, fake anger and real loyalty burning in his gaze.
"Boss, full house again tonight!"
Rivan raised two fingers without looking: double the bet.
Then a city guard stepped out of the darkness, armour catching the faint moonlight.
Everyone knew this wasteland outside Nagarkot City was forbidden ground; one official report and every soul here would be branded criminal for life.
Mukul's hand twitched toward his knife, but Rivan didn't even glance up.
He simply tossed a heavy purse.
The guard caught it, weighed it once, gave a curt nod, and melted back into the night.
Just another quiet payment so the illegal Grudge Arena could keep breathing.
At the back stood Viraaj, the old smoker who had become the closest thing Rivan had to a father. Every curl of smoke from his pipe was the arena's clock. When the smoke died, the verdict was final.
Viraaj unrolled the scroll. Only two rules, yet they shook souls:
The loser bows before the winner for one full year.
Stakes are never just money: wealth, rare items, spirit stones. If no verdict before the smoke ends, both fighters are banned forever.
The noisy crowd turned dead silent.
Two fighters stepped forward: Girish and Tolan.
Red blazing aura against flowing white water that hid a killer Lotus Palm.
They signed the scroll. Stakes placed. Viraaj lit his pipe. Smoke rose… fight on.
Qi explosions, cracks on stone, roars from the crowd.
Iron Fist clashed with Lotus Kick. Dao resonances collided.
One, two, three exchanges… the smoke thickened.
Final strikes collided. Both staggered back, gasping.
Viraaj lowered the pipe. Smoke gone.
"Verdict!"
The scroll wrote itself: no winner.
Both stakes burned. Spirit stones scattered. Permanent ban.
Some laughed, some cursed.
Rivan watched with cold eyes and gave the tiniest smirk.
Mukul, collecting the fallen coins, grinned. "Boss, tonight we're loaded!"
Then she entered.
A girl, barely sixteen or seventeen. Confidence in every step, eyes shining like she could buy the world twice over.
She placed a tray full of silver coins in front of Rivan.
"I want to fight."
Rivan's voice was ice. "We don't let girls fight here."
She stayed quiet and doubled the coins.
Mukul's eyes turned into coins themselves. "Boss, take it! We won't earn this much in a year!"
Viraaj released a puff of smoke and nodded: take the money.
Rivan didn't budge. "This isn't a bazaar. This is a ground of grudges."
The girl pulled out an auction pass: gold border, silver back, rare jade in the centre.
"Only top-ten families get this. Accept, and you get every treasure at seventy percent discount."
Rivan shook his head. "I don't want money or discounts."
She stepped closer, whispered into his ear,
"Three days from now, a rare treasure arrives at our auction house… the one you've been searching for."
Viraaj smiled through the smoke. "Boy, if you want to carve your path, don't let this slip."
For the first time, true light flashed in Rivan's eyes; gone in a blink.
He exhaled slowly.
"…Fine."
Silence swallowed the forbidden arena.
Mukul and Viraaj picked up the tray. Mukul almost sang, "Boss, we're rich tonight!"
Rivan ignored them and looked at the girl.
"Sign the contract first. And name your opponent."
She took the scroll, signed, and smiled.
"You."
The arena exploded into whispers.
Rivan stayed calm. "I don't fight without a grudge. And I have none against you."
A heartbeat later, her sword rested against his throat.
Every breath in the forbidden wasteland stopped.
Mukul stepped forward in fury. "Fight me first!"
Rivan held him back and returned every offer.
"Take your things and leave."
The girl's guard lost it. One leap and he landed in the arena, body heavy with killing intent.
"You talk too much. Scared of my miss? Then face me!"
The girl smirked. "Fine. Beat my guard and the original offer stands."
Without warning, the guard unleashed his deadliest move: Seventh Layer Killer Palm.
The strike tore through the air straight at Rivan.
Rivan formed a seal; it shattered. He flew back and crashed.
Mukul screamed, "Boss!"
Viraaj's pipe trembled.
From the cloud of dust, Rivan stood, not a scratch on him.
The guard's smile died inside.
The girl's curiosity deepened.
Rivan walked forward, voice calm but merciless.
"Your strongest move couldn't touch me. Leave… or I paint this forbidden ground red with your blood to welcome the new year."
At that exact moment, fireworks lit the sky. The new year had begun.
The crowd went wild. "What a way to start the year!"
The guard clenched his fists, ready to unleash Soul Death Punch.
Rivan didn't move.
He simply stomped once.
BOOM.
Spiritual pressure crashed like a tsunami.
The guard's own Soul Death Punch reversed, every strike hitting himself. He couldn't even twitch.
The girl's eyes sparkled, curiosity turning into joy.
Without a word, she placed every offer back in front of Rivan and stopped her guard.
"We're leaving."
The crowd stood confused. Mukul confused. Viraaj confused.
Only Rivan gave the faintest smile.
He picked up the invitation token: gold border, silver back, rare jade glowing in the centre.
Memories he had buried long ago rose like ghosts.
Then the distant loudspeakers of Nagarkot City echoed across the forbidden wasteland:
"Three days from now, at the Heavenly Treasure Auction, a Forbidden Grade relic shall descend, the Crimson Soul Lotus!"
People ran like starving wolves toward the city.
Rivan clenched the token and, with Mukul and Viraaj, walked into the night.
Scene cut.
Deep in the jungle, moonlight on two galloping horses.
The guard, voice bitter: "Miss, why did you stop me? I could have handled him."
The girl loosened her reins, voice calm and certain.
"You wouldn't understand my plan.
A month ago I saw him alone, tearing apart an entire bandit camp.
Today confirmed it: he is different from everyone else."
She stared into the dark ahead and whispered,
"He carries something no one else has. Resolve.
And resolve… is the greatest treasure in this world."
The jungle night grew heavier.
The horses galloped on, leaving echoes behind.