The underground arena smelled like it was mixed with rusted iron, blood, and boxers' sweat.
Dim lights were flickering above the cracked concrete ceiling of the arena. The crowd pressed from all sides—shouting, screaming, laughing. It was full chaos here, like animals waiting for a kill.
"C'mon kid! Don't die too fast, I bet all my salary on you!"
"Break him and his pride, Ansh!"
Ansh, seeing people cursing and cheering him, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
He cracked his knuckles, which were bruised by many fights. Old wounds were barely healed. The cheap cloth around his fists had turned red from blood—it was dry and horrifying.
Eighteen years old.
At this age, most people were chasing futures. Ansh was only chasing his next meal.
And this was his life now.
No school, no friends, and he didn't even know if he had any parents from his memories.
It was just this ring which kept him alive till this day.
In front of him stood a man. He was like a wall—broad shoulders, thick arms and legs, easily twice Ansh's weight.
The man spoke in a hoarse voice.
"You sure you don't want to quit and fight me, kid?"
Ansh rolled his shoulders, ignoring the man's threats. It was normal for him now.
"…You talk too much for your weight."
The bag dropped to start the match, and the bell rang. The man rushed towards Ansh—fast and heavy.
Ansh didn't react. He stepped forward toward the man, and before the man could hit him, he threw a jab—clean, precise, and fast.
Crack.
The man snapped his head back, his nose broken, blood leaking. Before he could gain any chance to dodge—another punch, then a hook.
Ansh didn't fight wildly. Every move was controlled, efficient, like he couldn't afford to waste any energy.
He didn't fight to win-he fought to avoid dying tomorrow.
But the man gained momentum and swung his arm furiously.
A punch slipped through—
Thud.
Ansh's body was pushed back, the fist hitting his ribs.
One clean hit was enough to ruin everything he had earned today.
Pain exploded inside his body. Cold sweat appeared on his forehead.
His breath hitched, but he moved forward. If he lost this match, he wouldn't get paid.
And if he didn't get paid, he wouldn't be able to survive and eat. Even the rent was pending.
There was no room for breaks. Ansh dodged the man's fists and tried to shift the man's center of gravity.
He bent one of his legs, rotated his chest back, spun, and hit a fist at full speed on the man's chest. Due to inertia, it cracked the man's ribs.
He fell down on the arena with a thud.
Then the arena erupted.
"Winner!"
Ansh was standing, his chest rising and falling with deep heavy breaths. Sweat dripped from his head, his hair was wet, and blood dripped onto the floor from his hand.
Drip, drip.
The arena went silent for five seconds.
"…ohhh Ansh… Ansh… Ansh…"
The arena erupted once again with people cheering him. He left the stage toward backstage.
There was a man in a black suit and glasses waiting.
"Today was a good figure, kid." He gave Ansh a bundle of money.
"Tomorrow there will be another match. Price has even increased. Will you join?"
"…I'll see if my body allows it," Ansh said, then left the arena.
Outside, the wind was cold at night. There were no people on the road. Ansh walked through the empty street.
Streetlights flickered above him. Ansh, with his hoodie hiding his face, walked toward his house.
"When will I get a proper job… things are getting uglier day by day. Rent, food… just to survive."
He had repeated the same cycle every day—fight, earn, survive, and sleep. He was getting tired of all of it.
The wind stopped. Then a sudden cold gust hit Ansh's face, revealing the scar on his left cheek. Ansh looked toward the sky.
A crack appeared, tearing space apart into two. A black portal could be seen behind it.
"What is that?"
Ansh took out his phone and clicked a picture, then shared it online.
He saw there were already many posts appearing. He read the comments.
"Did you see the sky just split into two?"
"Help, that thing sucked the plane that was flying near it!"
"What is this? The end of the world?"
"They're calling it the end of the world and still got time to text…"
Ansh started walking again. He couldn't change things that were out of his power.
But the portal had other plans. A cold voice echoed from the sky.
[Human race has been selected for lord trials]
[Every human on earth will be teleported to the continent of orin]
[Strong shall survive, Weak shall perish]
"…that was not fake," Ansh muttered.
His feet lifted from the ground. He was pulled upward into the portal.
"What is this—not teleportation, this is freaking kidnap—"
Ansh's eyes closed due to strain from everything. He was already injured from the fight.
[Every lord will receive a lord heart stone and a chance to awaken a troop type]
[Few lucky ones can even obtain a talent]
[Note: Telent ranking ranges from E to SS]
In a vast forest surrounded by trees, bushes, and grass, with the smell of wet earth and wood…
A boy was lying on the ground. His hands were full of bruises. His body trembled, fingers gripping the ground. Heavy breaths could be heard.
Ansh opened his eyes. Trees and plants surrounded him, blocking sunlight from reaching the ground.
"Where am I… and what was that sound I heard before closing my eyes?"
He tried to stand up, looking around the dense jungle.
"Looks like I need to do something about this. It's not like anyone will come to rescue me."
He saw a heart-shaped stone nearby and picked it up.
Cold… and weightless.
A blue panel appeared in front of his eyes.
[Lord Heart Stone]
[Tier: unknown]
[Uses: used to create lord hall and bunker for troops]
[Note: when the lord heart is destroyed, the lord loses the lord title]
Ansh placed the heart stone on the ground. It sank into the soil. A bright light erupted.
He stepped back. The wood and stone nearby began to gather and form structure. A broken wooden house and a bunker appeared, with a tilted sign reading: "troop recruitment."
Ansh walked toward the lord hall.
He opened the door. A squeaking sound echoed inside.
Squeeeak.
He didn't know it yet... but this thing would decide whether he lived as a lord... or died as a corpse.