The Path Of A True King.

Chapter 11

Underground, beneath the dimly lit building, the air buzzed with raucous cheers and the clinking of glasses.

Grown men hollered and toasted, the intoxicating scent of alcohol filling the space as Lucas and Kai moved through the crowd, handing drinks to anyone who paid up.

In the center of this chaotic arena stood a crude ring, its shabby ropes stretched across roughly ten meters.

Elijah, a scrawny 15-year-old with an air of nervous energy, stepped inside the ring.

His wide eyes betrayed his fear, and the crowd took notice.

Few placed bets on him, dismissing the skinny teenager as an easy loss.

Kai entered the ring, flashing a reassuring smile at Elijah. "Are you ready?" he asked, his voice calm yet firm.

Elijah nodded hesitantly.

Despite his best efforts to appear confident, the unease in his body language was evident.

Kai could sense it.

"You can do this," Kai said, his tone softening.

"Yeah," Elijah murmured, his voice barely audible.

Kai stepped closer, his gaze locking onto Elijah's. "Say it. Say, 'I can do this.'"

Elijah took a shaky breath. "I can do this," he repeated, louder this time.

Kai's smile widened. "That's the spirit."

Turning to the crowd, Kai walked to the center of the ring and raised his hands.

"Hello, everyone!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the noise.

The commotion quieted slightly as over twenty men turned their attention to him.

"As promised, here's your chance to make some extra cash! Who's ready to win a hundred bucks?"

The crowd roared in approval.

Kai continued,

"It's simple! Beat this young man here, and you take home the prize. After that, anyone feeling lucky can register over there for the next match.

Oh, and don't forget—fighters earn 20% of the bets placed on them, while the rest of you get a 10% payout based on how much you wager. Sound good?"

Cheers erupted once more.

Kai grinned. "Alright, let's not waste any more time. Let the fight begin!"

Elijah's opponent stepped into the ring.

He was a grown man, lean but muscular, standing at least five inches taller than Elijah's 5'4" frame.

The teenager exhaled sharply, trying to steady his nerves. "I can do this," he whispered to himself.

"Fight!" Kai bellowed.

The man wasted no time, lunging forward with surprising speed.

Elijah tried to counter with a punch, but his inexperience showed. The man easily dodged, landing a hook to Elijah's side.

The force sent the boy staggering back, pain shooting through his ribs.

Before he could recover, a sharp kick struck his stomach, followed by another punch.

Blood dripped from Elijah's mouth as he crumpled to the ground.

His vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the edges.

'Why is everything so dark?' he thought, frustration mingling with pain. 'Am I really this weak?'

The cold, hard floor beneath him jolted Elijah back to reality.

His ears rang, but his mind clung to Kai's relentless training sessions.

'Kai's punches were way harder than this,' he reminded himself, wiping the blood from his lips.

Summoning every ounce of determination, he pushed himself to his feet and adopted the stance Kai had drilled into him.

The man chuckled, clearly amused by Elijah's shaky resolve.

"You're already on your last legs, kid. This'll be over quick."

Elijah didn't respond. Instead, he focused, comparing the man's movements to Kai's.

The punches, the footwork—they were slower, less precise. As the man launched another kick, Elijah sidestepped, narrowly avoiding it.

But his focus faltered, and a punch slammed into his ribs, sending a fresh wave of pain through his body.

Grimacing, Elijah countered with a wild punch of his own.

To his surprise, it connected.

The man stumbled back, clutching his stomach with a scowl.

Elijah's bloodied face split into a grin, his teeth smeared red—a sight as unsettling as it was defiant.

They clashed again, fists flying in a frenzied exchange.

Elijah learned quickly, adapting with every strike, but his opponent's experience still gave him the upper hand.

Blow after blow landed on Elijah, yet he refused to back down.

A sudden kick to the man's face created an opening. Elijah seized the moment, following up with a punch that sent the man reeling.

Enraged, the man roared and delivered a devastating punch to Elijah's face.

The boy hit the ground hard, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

The man didn't let up, straddling Elijah and raining down punches.

Kai, watching from the sidelines, tensed.

He considered stepping in but stopped when he noticed something change.

Elijah, even under the relentless assault, began dodging the punches, his movements sharp and precise.

Seizing an opportunity, he grabbed the man's wrists and yanked him forward, smashing his forehead into the man's nose with a sickening crunch.

The man screamed, rolling off Elijah and clutching his shattered nose.

Elijah struggled to his feet, his body battered and bloodied, yet his spirit burned brighter than ever.

His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm echoing in his ears like a battle drum.

He took a deep breath, the pain fading into the background. His vision sharpened, and despite the blood clouding one eye, he felt a strange clarity.

With a sudden burst of energy, Elijah charged.

His fists flew faster and harder than before.

The man, now on the defensive, couldn't keep up.

Elijah's punches landed relentlessly, driving his opponent back until the man crumpled to the floor.

But as Elijah moved forward for a finishing blow, his legs wavered, and his body betrayed him.

He dropped to his knees, his breath ragged, his strength finally giving out.

The man, barely conscious, pushed himself up onto shaky arms.

His face was a mess of blood and bruises, his breath labored.

He tried to rise to his feet, but his legs buckled, and he fell again.

Both fighters lay on the mat, their bodies broken and unable to continue.

Kai's hands gripped the ropes tightly, his knuckles white.

His jaw was clenched, the tension in his body palpable as he watched the scene unfold.

The crowd, initially roaring with excitement, fell into an uncertain silence.

The fight had reached a standstill, neither combatant able to claim victory.

"Come on, Elijah," Kai muttered under his breath, his heart pounding as if he were in the ring himself, he wasn't sure how much more Elijah could take.

Elijah turned his head slightly, his bloodshot eyes meeting Kai's.

A faint smirk crossed his battered face, as if to say, "I'm not done yet." Kai's chest tightened.

He wanted to shout, to tell Elijah to stay down, but he knew better. This was Elijah's fight, his moment to prove something—to himself.

The man groaned, his body shifting as he attempted one final push to get up.

Elijah, trembling, pressed his palms against the mat, trying to do the same.

The crowd leaned in, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Every breath, every movement felt magnified, time slowing to a crawl.

But neither fighter could rise. With a collective gasp, both collapsed back to the mat, utterly spent.

The referee stepped in, signaling the end of the match as a draw.

The crowd erupted into mixed reactions—some cheered for the display of grit, others jeered at the lack of a decisive winner.

Kai exhaled sharply, releasing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

He jumped into the ring, rushing to Elijah's side.

Kneeling beside him, he placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. "You did good,"