Clash of Clans

The underground arena in the West Ward pulsed with noise—chants, stomps, the clang of gates. This was the Black Serpents’ turf, and tonight, Jayce would face their clan champion in the first official clan trial of the Circuit. No referees. No mercy. Just a steel cage, two fighters, and a crowd hungry for blood.

Jayce tightened his gloves in the locker room, the armband from Coach Darius snug on his wrist. His breath came slow and even, but inside, his nerves itched. This wasn’t just a fight—it was a message. Beat the Serpents’ champion, and he’d gain his first real foothold in the Circuit. Lose, and he’d be just another name scrawled on the wall of the forgotten.

Darius stood beside him, quiet but firm. “Don’t get drawn into their tempo. Serpents fight dirty. Keep your stance low, your chin tucked, and eyes open. They’ll go for weakness.”

Jayce nodded, tapping his fists together. “Let ’em try.”

The gate screeched open, and Jayce stepped into the cage. Across from him stood Skorn—a towering, tattooed monster with venom in his grin and spikes on his gloves. The Serpents roared from the stands, chanting his name, throwing up serpentine hand signs. The arena lights buzzed overhead, casting shadows across the bloodstained floor.

The bell clanged.

Skorn came fast, wild, swinging heavy haymakers that threatened to take Jayce’s head off. But Jayce ducked, pivoted, slipped past the blows. Darius’s training kicked in—he didn’t retaliate emotionally. He danced, probed, observed. Skorn was power, but sloppy. Jayce waited.

Then he struck—fast jabs to the ribs, low kicks to the knee, a cross to the temple. Skorn stumbled but laughed, wiping blood from his lip.

“Fast hands, boy,” he snarled. “Let’s see if they still move when I break your spine.”

Skorn charged like a bull, slamming Jayce into the cage. The crowd roared. Fists rained down on Jayce’s shoulders and neck. Pain blurred his vision. But he remembered Darius’s words—control the chaos.

He spun out, hooking Skorn’s arm, and delivered a devastating uppercut to the jaw. Skorn staggered. Jayce followed with a leg sweep that brought the giant down. The crowd gasped.

Jayce didn’t let up. He mounted, fists flying, hammering Skorn’s defenses. Blood sprayed. The Serpents jeered and screamed, but the cage was locked. There was no saving Skorn now.

With a final elbow strike, Skorn went limp.

Silence fell.

Jayce stood, chest heaving, drenched in sweat and blood—some his, most not.

The announcer raised his hand. “Winner: Jayce ‘Iron Flame’ Carter!”

The Serpents hissed, but some nodded with reluctant respect. In their world, power earned honor, even from enemies.

Back in the locker room, Darius clapped Jayce’s shoulder. “You didn’t just survive. You dominated.”

Jayce spit blood into a sink and grinned. “One down.”

“Plenty more to go.”

Later that night, Jayce stood on a rooftop overlooking the city. Lights flickered like embers in the dark. His hands throbbed. His ribs ached. But inside, something deeper stirred.

Respect.

Not bought. Not begged for.

Earned.

And with it came whispers across the city—Jayce Carter, the Iron Flame, was rising.

The clans were watching now.

And the throne was one step closer.

But it wasn’t just the clans watching. In a smoke-filled room across town, masked men sat around a table lined with betting slips, surveillance feeds, and dossiers. One of them tapped Jayce’s face on the screen.

“He’s upsetting the balance,” the man said.

Another nodded. “He’s got Coach Darius behind him. That makes him dangerous.”

“Then we handle it before he gets too big.”

Back at the gym, Jayce sat alone, unwrapping his bloodied hands. He stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror.

“You’re in it now,” he whispered to himself. “No turning back.”

Outside, a message was spray-painted on the alley wall behind the gym:

“Iron Flame. We’re coming.”

Jayce read it the next morning and smiled grimly.

“Let ’em.”

He turned up the volume on his training playlist, wrapped his fists again, and stepped into the ring.

War was coming.

And Jayce was ready for it.