Osric sat down among the crowd outside the ring.
Those near him were excited.
"You're really strong man!"
"How long have you been fighting?"
"Are you single?"
Both male and female spectators became his fans.
"Leave the young man alone. You think he wants to answer your questions after fighting four people in a row?"
A veteran fighter said that and everyone around him quieted down.
Osric just nodded at the veteran.
'I'm not actually that exhausted, but it was quite annoying.'
For the next hour or so, Osric just watched the other fights until finally no one stepped up anymore.
'I think no one wants to fight second category fighters anymore.'
The last fighter left the ring and then it was finally time for the next phase of the night.
The referee walked to the middle.
"It seems our regular fights end here."
"Which of our elite fighters want to step up first tonight?"
A dozen people stood up and walked down towards the ring.
Once they were right in front of the ring, they stopped.
They couldn't just all enter at the same time, so the referee asked one person to step up first among them.
He usually picked one ranked lower than most.
There were no official rankings, but most people in the arena still knew the general ranking of fighters.
The referee picked one.
'I think that guy is ranked in the 40s. And there are at most 50 fighters in the third category.'
The fighter in the ring could now decide who to fight from the volunteers.
Osric decided to watch the first couple of fights before raising his hand.
The elite fighters rarely fought more than once, so there was always someone new in the ring.
It made the picking order a little different and most times the referee that belonged to the organization chose the next fighter when the ring was empty.
Osric watched their fights attentively and trying to memorise their moves and habits.
'They're definitely on a different level than those before.'
But Osric wasn't nervous.
He was excited to put his actual skills to the test.
Soon the second fight was over and Osric had waited enough.
As soon as the two fighters left the ring, new fighters stood up again and raised their hands.
This time, Osric was one of them.
Everyone near him was shocked.
"Holy shit!"
"He already wants to challenge the elite fighters?"
"In the same night?"
"Isn't he tired?"
The murmuring quickly spread through the arena.
Even some of the elite fighters turned their heads toward Osric.
A few of them looked amused.
Others frowned.
One of them laughed loudly.
"Kid's got balls."
The referee glanced toward Osric for a moment before looking at the volunteers standing near the ring.
Most of them were watching Osric now.
The referee pointed.
"You. Step up."
The chosen fighter grinned and climbed into the ring.
He was a thick-set man in his late thirties with a crooked nose and several old scars across his face. His arms were massive, and the way he rolled his shoulders made it clear he relied on overwhelming punches.
Osric immediately recognized him.
'Heavy hitter.'
The man leaned against the short wooden wall for a moment and looked at the volunteers.
His eyes quickly settled on Osric.
A wide grin spread across his face.
"Well, well."
"So you're the little hero everyone's talking about tonight."
Some people in the crowd chuckled.
The man pointed directly at him.
"I'll take the kid."
A wave of excited murmuring passed through the spectators.
"Damn…"
"He's picking him!"
"He wants to put him in his place."
Osric calmly walked toward the ring.
As he passed the group of elite fighters waiting outside, he briefly noticed something unusual.
Among them stood a woman.
She was standing slightly apart from the others with her arms crossed, silently watching the ring.
Osric only glanced at her for a moment before stepping inside.
The referee looked between the two fighters.
"You ready?"
The heavy hitter cracked his neck.
"Oh, I'm ready."
Osric simply nodded.
"Start!"
The veteran attacked immediately.
His fist came straight for Osric's head.
Osric raised his guard and blocked.
The impact traveled through his arms like a hammer.
'Strong.'
The man followed with another punch.
And another.
Each strike carried brutal force.
Osric stepped back, blocking and slipping when he could.
The crowd reacted instantly.
"Now that's a real fight!"
"He's not playing around!"
The veteran pressed forward aggressively.
A hook slammed into Osric's guard again, forcing him back another step.
"You thought the second category was impressive?"
The man laughed.
"This is where the real fighters are, kid!"
Another heavy punch came.
Osric slipped just outside its path and answered with a quick jab to the ribs.
The man barely reacted.
Instead he swung again.
This time the punch slipped through Osric's guard and clipped the side of his head.
The impact made his vision shake for a moment.
The crowd roared.
"He hit him!"
The veteran grinned wider.
"There we go."
Osric stepped back and steadied his breathing.
'His power is real.'
But something else was obvious too.
The man attacked in patterns.
Heavy swings.
Forward pressure.
Almost no defense.
Osric's eyes sharpened.
The next punch came.
Osric blocked it again, but this time he stayed inside the distance.
A quick jab to the stomach.
A second to the ribs.
Then he stepped away before the counter punch arrived.
The veteran swung again.
Osric slipped it.
This time he answered with a low kick to the thigh.
Then he moved again.
The crowd began noticing the change.
"Wait…"
"He's adjusting."
The veteran attacked harder now.
But Osric had started reading him.
Each swing was slightly predictable.
Each step forward created small openings.
Osric began using them.
Punch to the body.
Kick to the thigh.
Step out.
Then back in with a jab.
The veteran growled and threw another huge hook.
Osric ducked under it and hammered a quick elbow into the ribs.
The man staggered half a step.
For the first time his grin faded slightly.
"You're annoying."
Osric didn't answer.
He was focused.
His body was beginning to understand the rhythm of the fight.
Another punch came.
Osric slipped it.
A quick combination landed on the veteran's ribs.
The man tried grabbing him.
Osric twisted away and kicked his leg again.
The veteran's breathing was growing heavier.
The crowd was now fully invested.
"He's turning it around!"
The veteran roared and charged forward again.
This time Osric stepped inside the swing instead of retreating.
A sharp punch to the stomach.
Then another.
The veteran tried answering with a hook.
Osric slipped it.
And drove a brutal elbow into the man's jaw.
The impact snapped his head sideways.
The veteran staggered.
Osric pressed forward immediately.
A kick to the thigh.
A punch to the ribs.
Then a final straight strike to the jaw.
The veteran collapsed onto the floor of the ring.
The arena exploded.
"NO WAY!"
"He beat him!"
"An elite fighter!"
Osric stood over the fallen man, breathing harder than before but still steady.
That fight had been different.
Much different.
But he had figured it out.
And once he did…
The result had been inevitable.
The referee stepped in, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Well… looks like we've got ourselves a new contender tonight."
The crowd roared again.
But among the elite fighters waiting outside the ring, the mood had changed.
Several of them were no longer smiling.
And the woman among them was still watching silently.