The First Men Chronicles

Chapter 22: Clash Interrupted

The arena fell silent for a brief moment as Madagascar stared at the bleeding wound across his chest. Blood trickled slowly, staining his once-pristine trench coat. Taking a sharp breath, he placed a trembling hand over the gash, muttering under his breath. A faint frost crept out from his palm, hissing softly as it sealed the wound enough to stop the bleeding.

Madagascar smirked through the pain, his voice calm but laced with exhaustion. "Impressive. But this isn't over."

From across the ring, portgas stood firm, his katana gleaming in the dim light. His movements were steady, though the bruises and blood on his face betrayed his condition. "Oh, it's far from over."

Madagascar clapped his hands together with a thunderous echo, muttering,

"Water Style: Twin Dragon."

A thin stream of water trickled from his hand, twisting and spiraling into a growing vortex of swirling water. The vortex grew larger, roaring as two massive water dragons emerged from its core, their translucent forms glinting with an icy blue hue. They roared, their watery bodies coiling and snapping as they charged toward portgas with ferocity.

Portgas smirked, his focus unshaken. He muttered, "Blade Release: Liquid Form."

His katana began to shimmer, its steel rippling as it melted into a fluid state. The blade retained its shape, but its liquid surface jiggled unnervingly, reflecting the shimmering arena lights.

"Release!" Portgas commanded, and five liquid extensions shot out from the blade like serpents, each slithering through the air to meet the oncoming dragons.

The liquid blades clashed with the water dragons in a dazzling display, sending shimmering blue mist spraying across the ring. But the dragons reformed instantly, their relentless charge undeterred. One dragon twisted around the liquid blade and collided with Portgas, sending him flying into the stands.

BOOM.....

A loud boom as the impact cracked stone and splintered wood. The crowd gasped, some covering their mouths in shock.

Madagascar dropped to one knee, his body shaking as he fought to maintain control. He muttered to himself, "I can stop the bleeding, but… if I keep pushing my Shen like this, I'll bleed out faster."

Across the arena, Portgas groaned as he pulled himself out of the rubble in the stands. Blood trickled from his nose and forehead. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, his voice cold and resolute. "If I lose here, my old man's going to kill me."

Clapping his hands together, Portgas began to transform. His eyes turned golden, his pupils narrowing like an animal's. His limbs elongated, his frame taking on the muscular form of a monkey, though his human features remained.

"I've got one shot," Portgas muttered. He crouched low, his legs rippling with raw strength. With a deafening explosion of air, he launched himself skyward, the ground cracking beneath him.

Madagascar's eyes narrowed as he watched Portgas ascend into the air. His Shen flared violently as he forced himself to stand. "So, you're going all out? Then so will I."

He slammed his hands to the ground, shouting, "Water Release: Point Zero."

Instantly, his entire body crystallized into ice, his skin shimmering like a frozen diamond. The ground beneath him froze rapidly, waves of frost spreading through the arena like wildfire.

The air grew colder with every second. Frost crept up the walls of the stadium, and fans in the crowd began to shiver violently, their breaths visible in the freezing air.

"Help! I can't feel my fingers!" a woman screamed, clutching her arms.

"Is this part of the fight? This is insane!" another voice shouted.

"Someone stop this! We're going to freeze to death!"

In the VIP section, Mujin leaned forward, his posture relaxed yet commanding. His unbuttoned black shirt and tropical-patterned pants gave him a casual look, but his sharp gaze betrayed the weight of his authority.

"This is getting out of hand," he said, his voice low but firm.

Thomas laughed beside him, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Come on, let the kids go all out. It's entertaining, isn't it?"

Mujin didn't reply. Instead, he stood, his movements deliberate. "Fun's over."

In the center of the arena, the frost spread faster, the air growing sharp with the sound of cracking ice. Portgas hurtled downward, his transformed body aiming straight for Madagascar.

Fans screamed in anticipation.

"They're going to collide!"

"This is insane!"

But just before impact, a dark figure leapt from the VIP section. Mujin landed between the two fighters with a thunderous boom, his presence commanding silence across the arena.

He raised one hand and muttered, "Restricting Order: Roman Cube."

Blue, glowing orbs with a mystical aura appeared around Madagascar and portgas, encasing them in a rotating cube adorned with glowing Roman numerals. A deep, resonating hum filled the air, and the temperature began to stabilize.

Madagascar's icy form melted back into flesh, the frost retreating rapidly. Portgas's monkey-like transformation faded, his body returning to its human state, though both fighters remained battered and bruised.

Mujin's Command

Mujin chuckled as he looked at the two frozen fighters inside the cube. "Oh, boys, you almost killed everyone in the stadium. That's not how we do things here."

Fans in the crowd began murmuring amongst themselves.

"Did he just stop them both like it was nothing?"

"Who is that guy?"

"Are you serious? That's Mujin—leader of the Lannister House. He's one of the strongest Hunters alive!"

"Did you see how he just jumped in like it was nothing? Unreal!"

Mujin turned to the commentator's booth and called out, "It's a tie. Let the announcer know."

With that, he muttered, "Toby." The cube, along with Mujin and the two fighters, vanished in a flash of blue light.

The stadium buzzed with noise as the fans processed what had just happened.

"Did you see that? He stopped the fight so easily!"

"Madagascar and Portgas were incredible, but Mujin… that was on another level!"

"Who needs the tournament when you've got guys like that running the show?"

The commentator, still shaken, grabbed his mic. "Ladies and gentlemen, we almost froze to death there! Let's take a moment to thank Mujin of the Lannister House for stepping in. Now, we'll resume shortly, but not before taking a quick breather!"

The crowd erupted into nervous laughter, their excitement undiminished despite the near disaster.