The Milf's Dragon

The ship docked at Veridian Crossing. Owen’s CE had stabilized at 308. Tier 5, two stars. Not impressive by cosmic standards, but enough to notice the difference in how the station’s ambient energy pressed against his skin.

Gorvax led him through a different section of the ring. Not the market. Not the docking bays. A corridor that sloped downward, its walls stained with something that wasn’t rust. The air grew thicker. Heavier.

"Where are we going?"

"..."

The corridor opened into a cavernous chamber. A teleportation gate hummed at its center; a vertical ring of crackling violet light, its surface was rippling like disturbed water. Then Gorvax stepped through without hesitation and reluctantly Owen followed.

The transition was instant and disorienting. One moment, the sterile metal of Veridian Crossing. The next, rough stone, damp air, the distant sound of cheering.

They stood in a tunnel carved from black rock. The walls were lined with flickering torches of energy bleeding from crystals embedded in the stone. The smell hit Owen first: sweat, blood, and the acrid tang of Desolate residue.

"Welcome to the Crucible..." Gorvax said.

The tunnel opened into a vast circular pit. Fifty meters across. Energy barriers shimmered along its edge, containing the chaos within. Above, floating platforms held spectators; beings of every species Owen had seen and many he hadn’t. They leaned over the railings, shouting, gesturing, and throwing Cores into betting pools.

Below, two fighters circled each other.

One was a reptilian humanoid with four eyes and scales the color of dried blood. He moved slowly and deliberately, letting his opponent exhaust himself. The other way a winged creature with too many limbs who threw wild punch after wild punch. Each strike costing CE. Each miss draining his reserves. Poor judgement.

The reptilian waited.

Then struck.

One punch that was too precise to the winged creature’s temple that ended the fight.

The crowd erupted.

Gorvax gestured to a booth near the pit’s edge. "Register."

---

The registrar was a being with no discernible features; just a robe and two glowing dots where eyes should be.

"Name."

"False Fist."

"Rank."

"Tier 5, one star."

The registrar paused. The glowing dots flickered. "You understand the risks?"

"I understand."

"Entry fee is ten Cores. Winners receive a portion of the betting pool and the loser’s Cores. Three consecutive losses result in forfeiture of autonomy. You will be sold to Desolate beast hunters as bait."

Owen placed ten Cores on the counter. "I won’t lose three times."

The registrar made a sound that might have been a laugh. "Your first opponent is Korr. Tier 5, two stars. Twelve wins, two losses. He will be in the pit in ten minutes."

---

Then Gorvax pulled up a holographic replay of Korr’s last match.

Apparently, the reptilian moved the same way he had in the pit; patient and economical. He let his opponent burn through CE, deflecting strikes with minimal effort, then finished with precise counters. His CE reserves were around 550. Nearly 250 more than Owen’s base.

"His endurance is his strength..." Gorvax said. "...He waits and conserves. Then He punishes mistakes his opponents make."

"Yeah yeah, how do you propose I beat him, oh mighty Sensei?"

"Hmpm... Do not try to overpower him for He will wait for you to waste your CE. Use your agility, you’re good at that. Make him move and conserve your energy well enough for the final exchange."

Owen watched Korr’s pattern again; The way he shifted weight, the way his eyes tracked his opponent’s shoulders.

"He is really good at telegraphing his counters."

"Yes."

Owen’s mind worked. "So, feints?"

Gorvax said nothing, but his posture shifted in Approval.

---

The pit was hotter than it looked from above.

Owen stepped through the energy barrier and It tingled against his skin.

Across the pit, Korr entered.

His four eyes scanned Owen. Two arms crossed over his chest. His scales catching the torchlight, and gleaming like wet stone.

"False Fist..." Korr said with voice a low rumble. "...You’re new."

"Everyone starts somewhere, right?"

Korr’s lips pulled back from sharp teeth. "That Somewhere is usually the bottom."

Ding! Ding!

The buzzer sounded.

Korr circled Slow and patiently. His feet scraped against the stone floor, each step measured but Owen matched him, staying centered, staying loose.

Korr didn’t attack.

Owen feinted, A quick step forward, a half-raised fist. Korr didn’t flinch. His four eyes tracked Owen’s shoulders, his hips, his feet.

He’s waiting for me to commit. Owen thought to himself.

Then Kwen threw a jab. Low CE, just 10 force. Korr deflected it with his forearm, barely moving. The impact barely registered.

Another jab. Same result.

Korr’s expression didn’t change.

Owen feinted a full-force punch. He wound up, gathered 50 CE in his fist, then cancelled. The energy dissipated.

Korr flinched, Just a fraction, a single twitch of his left shoulder which Owen exploited.

He drove a 30 CE punch into Korr’s thigh and the reptilian’s leg buckled causing his His stance to shift.

Korr’s eyes widened. Then he attacked.

A sweeping kick aimed at Owen’s legs. Owen jumped but Korr anticipated it. He drove his knee into Owen’s ribs.

CRACK!

Pain exploded through Owen’s side. His Ultra-Regeneration kicked in, but the cost was high. CE dropped to 280. The injury was caused by a CE-enhanced strike, and healing it required CE.

He rolled away, gasping.

Korr pressed his advantage. He threw a straight punch, not wild or desperate. But Controlled and Measured. Owen dodged, but barely.

Gorvax’s voice came through the comm. "Stop fighting his fight. He wants you to react. Make him react to you."

Owen reset his stance.

Korr circled but Owen didn’t follow. He planted his feet and waited.

Korr’s four eyes narrowed.

Owen activated his Dragon’s Eye, not to track movement, but to read micro-expressions. The twitch of a muscle. The shift of weight. The moment before a decided attack.

Korr feinted but kwen didn’t move.

Korr feinted again and Owen still held.

Then Korr committed.

A straight punch aimed at Owen’s chest. Owen didn’t dodge. He stepped into the strike, letting it graze past his shoulder, and drove his own fist into Korr’s lower back.

60 CE. Cosmic Impact Fist.

CRACK!

Korr’s scales cracked. He stumbled forward, his legs unsteady. His CE reserves dropped to 450, he had been spending to reinforce his defense.

Owen pressed. Momentum Shift carried him around Korr’s blind side. Another punch of 30 CE, POW! to the same thigh. Another 20 CE, POW! to the ribs.

Korr’s leg buckled. He dropped to one knee.

Owen pulled his fist back for a final strike.

But korr raised a hand. "I yield."

The crowd erupted. Some cheered. Some booed, they wanted a knockout.

The energy barrier lowered.

Owen stood over Korr, breathing hard. His CE was at 110. He had used 198 total. Far more efficient than the Desolate beast fight.

He extended a hand which Korr stared at, Then took it.

"You fight strangely, False fist" Korr said. "Not like a Tier 5, one-star at all"

"Yeah, well, we all gotta be better than our ranks to survive, right?"

Korr nodded as He limped toward the exit.

---

Gorvax met Owen outside the pit. His featureless face still showed no expression, but his posture was loose and Relaxed.

"Better."

"Better?"

"You wasted energy on a feint that didn’t land. But... you adapted well. You made him react, and That... is improvement."

Owen’s CE had risen to 350; ambient absorption from the arena’s energy. It was Small, but meaningful.

Just then, Gorvax’s comm buzzed. He glanced at it and what it was made His posture stiffened.

"We may have less time than I thought."

Owen’s jaw tightened. "What’s wrong?"

"The Tribunal Enforcer who we saw earlier is still in the sector. He hasn’t left."

"You will fight one more match tomorrow. Tier 5, three-star. One with a different style." Gorvax turned. "Then we will leave."

He walked toward the corridor that led to the teleportation gate and Owen followed.

Behind them, the Crucible’s cheers faded into the distance.