THE LIFE OF THE ABNORMAL UNRIVALED

After the presentations, the vibrant dances—a kaleidoscope of swirling silks and rhythmic footfalls—and the soaring songs, voices like honeyed wine filling the air, concluded, the next contender was announced: Nexus Nebula.

"People of Goret! Our next contender from the Thrones Candidates is Nexus… Nebula!" the facilitator boomed, his voice a thrilling crackle of electricity against the expectant hush.

But a wave of silence followed, broken only by the nervous whispers of "Who is he?" and "Is he a traveler?" rippling through the crowd like a tremor. Nexus Nebula's background and identity remained a complete enigma.

Then, Nexus Nebula emerged, his form silhouetted against the arena's brilliant lights. He stood before five elite soldiers, their polished armor gleaming like a freshly-forged dawn, reflecting the light in a thousand dazzling points. He carried only a single knife, its dark steel a stark contrast to the soldiers' bright, imposing weaponry; a single, ominous glint in the vast expanse of their might.

The five elite soldiers exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from arrogant confidence to a wary, almost fearful suspicion. "How can he defeat us with that setup?" one scoffed, the sound sharp and brittle as a cracking twig. But their leader, a grizzled veteran whose face was a roadmap of past battles, countered, his voice low and gravelly, "A single stone can kill a big monster; beware of him!"

"Let the Grand Battle begin!" the facilitator's voice echoed, a thunderclap in the suddenly silent arena. The air crackled with anticipation, heavy with the scent of sweat and fear.

Nexus remained motionless, a statue of unnerving calm, his very stillness radiating a palpable tension as the battle commenced. The five soldiers, clad in full plate armor that clinked and grated with each movement, their shields raised like fortress walls, swords at the ready, surrounded him. One gestured, the signal for a one-by-one attack, a silent command that sliced through the heavy silence.

The first soldier charged, his sword a blur of lethal steel, whistling through the air with a menacing shriek. A metallic clang echoed as the blade connected—but with a shocking result. Nexus's face remained unscathed; only the cloth masking his features was sliced, the torn fabric fluttering down like a fallen leaf.

The soldier, attributing the near miss to sheer luck, attacked again, his voice echoing with bravado as he boasted to his comrades that he could handle Nexus alone. Yet, he couldn't land a single blow. Nexus moved with impossible speed, a phantom dodging each strike with an almost balletic grace, the rhythmic clash of steel against steel filling the air with a deafening symphony of near misses.

The soldier, his breath ragged and shallow, his body trembling with exhaustion, his mind swimming in a fog of sweat and exertion, finally faltered. "Attack me! You monster!" he gasped, his voice a strangled whisper, collapsing onto one knee, his sword and shield clattering to the ground like shattered bones. He was spent, utterly drained after just two hours of relentless, futile assault.

"Heh, I myself am not a monster, but a person," Nexus Nebula replied, his voice calm and measured, a stark contrast to the chaos around him.

He approached the fallen soldier, picked up the small, sharp knife, its cold steel gleaming under the arena lights, and with a swift, brutal movement, sliced open the soldier's chest. A fountain of blood erupted, staining the ground crimson, a horrific geyser against the dust and grime of the arena floor. A collective gasp of horror—a strangled, guttural sound—rippled through the audience, a wave of revulsion washing over the spectators.

Enraged, the remaining four soldiers charged, splitting into two teams, their movements a coordinated dance of death. One team would attack while the other blocked Nexus's counterattacks, a strategy born of desperation. But Nexus anticipated their strategy, dropping his knife with a dismissive flick of his wrist, the sound sharp and precise.

"I don't need this dirty stuff," he sneered, his face twisting into a chilling, sadistic grin, his eyes gleaming with cold fury.

With a terrifying display of raw power, he punched the shields of the two soldiers blocking his attacks. The shields buckled, then shattered under the force of his blows, the sound like thunder, sending the two soldiers sprawling, unconscious, blood streaming from their mouths and noses, painting the arena floor in a gruesome tapestry of crimson.

Silence, thick with horror and revulsion, descended upon the audience. The surviving soldiers watched in stunned disbelief as their comrade lay dying, his lifeblood pooling on the arena floor, the metallic tang of blood heavy in the air.

"Hahaha!" Nexus's laughter, broken and chilling, echoed through the arena, a sound that seemed to claw at the very soul. "I am the strongest!" he declared, his voice ringing with terrifying confidence.

"No, you're not. You are a monster!" the leader of the remaining soldiers cried, tears streaming down his weathered face, his voice choked with grief. "Those were my friends, my only family, my companions. Why? Why did you kill them? If you don't even know how I feel, then there's no doubt—you are truly a monster."

Turning to his last remaining companion, he said, "You, young man, you must live." Then, in a display of unwavering courage and tradition, he introduced himself before Nexus, dedicating his life to avenging his fallen comrades, his voice ringing with a defiant strength.

"Are you sure about that?" Nexus asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, a cruel mockery of the soldier's grief.

The leader, fueled by grief and righteous fury, attacked with a speed and ferocity that defied his age. His sweat flew, his movements a blur of desperate action, but Nexus's skin seemed impervious to his blows, the steel of his sword only bouncing harmlessly off his flesh, the dull thuds echoing in the stunned silence.

"Just give up, old man!" Nexus taunted, his voice dripping with scorn.

But the leader pressed his attack, finally unleashing a desperate, unpredictable move. He dropped his sword at Nexus's feet, then struck a blow to Nexus's face, momentarily blinding him, the impact a sickening thud. This created an opening for a final, desperate strike. The sword, strategically placed, was now poised to strike Nexus's most vulnerable point.

"Hahaha, you are undoubtedly tough, but you also have that weakness!" the leader shouted triumphantly, his voice hoarse but filled with a desperate hope.

The sword found its mark, piercing Nexus's groin, the sound a sickening tear of flesh, causing him to cry out in agony, a raw, animalistic sound. Blood flowed freely, staining his clothes crimson.

"And now, look at yourself—you're like a woman in her period, spurting blood," the leader jeered, savoring his victory, his voice filled with bitter satisfaction.

"Y-You, evil!" Nexus roared, his voice filled with rage and humiliation, a guttural scream that tore through the stunned silence. He slammed his fist into the ground, the impact causing a cataclysmic tremor that shattered buildings, sending dust and debris raining down like deadly hail, sending terrified screams echoing through the city. The force of his blow was devastating, a testament to his immense power and uncontrolled fury, the ground shaking violently.

The leader tried to stop him, but was cut in half by a shockwave from Nexus's earth-shattering punch, his body cleaved in two with a sickening thud.

Nexus prepared to unleash another devastating blow, but Choenil Lina intervened, using her air-bending abilities to restrain him with solidified gusts of wind, the air itself solidifying into a cage around him. But Nexus's strength was so immense that she struggled to hold him, his power seemingly limitless, his muscles straining against the air prison.

"What? Is he a monster? What is this strength?" Choenil gasped, her face strained with exertion as she reinforced her air-binding technique, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Nexus glared at her, his eyes burning with murderous intent, his gaze like molten fire. "You! Come here! Let me flatten your pretty face!" he bellowed, his voice a terrifying roar.

Choenil, realizing she couldn't subdue him, made a desperate decision. "I have no other choice. The kingdom's future is on me." She created a massive vacuum around Nexus, a suffocating void designed to kill him, the air itself screaming as it was ripped away.

Nexus struggled, his face contorted in confusion and terror, his eyes wide with panic. Tears streamed down his face as he gasped for air, his body wracked with desperation, his muscles bulging as he fought against the crushing force of the vacuum.

Even in his final moments, Nexus made one last, desperate attempt to kill Choenil. With a final, earth-shattering stomp, he created a massive crater, the impact leveling the arena and killing countless innocent spectators, the ground trembling violently, the air thick with the smell of dust and death. Nexus died, his body broken, his rage spent. Choenil survived, barely, heavily breathing, her clothes torn, her body bruised, her face pale with exhaustion and fear.

The destruction was immense, the city in ruins, a landscape of devastation and death, the death toll staggering. The air hung heavy with the stench of blood and destruction. Would the king end the tournament? Or would it continue? What would become of the Kingdom of Goret?