NOVEL SIMPLE CHAPTER 36: The Tag Team Showdown
The crowd's anticipation was enthusiastic as the fighters took their positions. The arena lights dimmed, focusing on the center ring where the match was about to begin. The buzz of excitement grew louder, merging into a thunderstorm of cheers and chants as the holographic screens around the stadium displayed the fighters' profiles.
Trevor "The Iron Fist" Jacobs stepped into the ring first. Trevor was a mountain of a man, standing at six-foot-four with shoulders broad enough to block out the sun. His square jaw and closely cropped brown hair gave him the look of a seasoned soldier, and his eyes were sharp, focused, scanning Atlas for any signs of weakness. His muscles bulged under his SFB uniform, and in his hands, he gripped a massive shield and a spiked mace, the latter looking like it could crush a boulder in one swing.
Across from him stood Atlas, his expression calm, almost bored, as he sized up his opponent. At six-foot-one with a lean, muscular build, Atlas cut an imposing figure. His short black hair was slicked back, and his sharp features bore a slight smirk that hinted at the confidence beneath. He wore simple yet sturdy SFB armor that allowed for maximum mobility, and in his hands, he held a pair of swords that gleamed menacingly under the arena lights.
The crowd fell into a hush, sensing the tension in the air. The bell rang, signaling the start of the fight.
Trevor charged forward, his shield raised high as he swung his mace down with all his might. Atlas sidestepped effortlessly, the mace hitting nothing but air. With a swift, fluid motion, Atlas’s sword sliced upward, catching the edge of Trevor’s shield and knocking it aside. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through Trevor’s arm, momentarily stunning him.
(STUN!)
Atlas didn’t hesitate. He followed up with a low sweep to Trevor’s legs, sending the fighter sprawling onto his back. The crowd gasped as Trevor hit the ground with a thud. Before he could react, Atlas was on him, bringing the hilt of his sword down hard on Trevor’s helmet. The impact echoed through the arena, and Trevor’s body went limp. The SFB helmet could help prevent deaths, but like most protective equipment, it didn’t stop injuries or concussions.
The system buzzed, registering the knockout.
**DECAPITATION!**
The crowd erupted in cheers as Trevor was quickly carried off by the medics. But there was no time for celebration.
Javier "El Toro" Reyes leaped into the ring, his sword and dagger already poised for the attack. Javier was a brawny man with a barrel chest and thick arms covered in tattoos, each one telling a story of battles fought and won. His hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail, and his eyes burned with intensity. He was pissed—the goal was to get Atlas damaged in the first fight! Now he was fighting a boss with full health, this definitely wasn’t in the plans. Atlas barely had a moment to breathe before Javier was upon him, moving with surprising speed for a man of his size.
Javier didn’t aim for the kill. He was smarter than that. Instead, he went for the limbs, each swipe of his sword and dagger aimed at Atlas’s arms and legs. It was a strategy designed to exploit the SFB system, which registered every minor cut and nick. The more hits Javier landed, the slower Atlas would become.
Atlas quickly realized what Javier was up to, but instead of trying to avoid the hits, he leaned into them. Each time Javier tried to land a strike, Atlas countered with one of his own, cutting Javier in the same spot. It was a dance of blades, each fighter giving as much effort as they could. But while Javier focused on trying to get more hits in, Atlas was targeting his opponent’s weaknesses.
Javier’s movements began to slow, his once-agile attacks becoming sluggish as the system registered the growing number of wounds. His limbs grew heavy, his breath ragged, and the realization that he was outmatched dawned in his eyes. Atlas moved in for the final blow, a swift cut across Javier’s chest that sent him stumbling back. The system buzzed again, this time declaring Javier incapacitated from blood loss.
**BLEEDING DEATH!**
Javier fell to his knees, then collapsed. The crowd roared as Atlas stood tall, with a few scratches on him, but nothing significant.
But the fight wasn’t over yet. Luke "Nightshade" Carson entered the ring, his saber gleaming under the arena lights, a shield strapped to his arm. Luke was different from the others. Standing at five-foot-ten with a wiry frame, he was faster, more unpredictable. His dark hair hung in his eyes, giving him a roguish appearance that matched his sly grin. He knew he couldn’t beat Atlas in a straight-up fight, but if he could just land one solid hit, it might be enough to turn the tide.
Luke darted forward, his saber a blur as he struck out at Atlas. The speed of his attacks was impressive, but Atlas remained unfazed. He parried each blow with ease, the clang of metal on metal echoing in the arena. Luke was relentless, his strikes growing more desperate as Atlas continued to deflect every attack.
The crowd was on the edge of their seats. Three fighters against one, and no significant hit had landed on Atlas. It was starting to look embarrassing for the challengers.
Atlas decided it was time to end it. As Luke swung his saber, Atlas saw his opening. With a swift, practiced motion, he crossed both of his swords down, trapping the saber in Luke’s hand, pointing it to the floor. In the same fluid motion, Atlas leaped into the air, his foot shooting forward in a powerful front kick.
The kick connected with Luke’s armoured face, snapping his head back with a sickening crack. Luke crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he hit the mat. Atlas landed gracefully, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
**KNOCKOUT!**
*That’s my favorite move,* Atlas thought to himself as the crowd erupted into wild cheers. *I call that the Night Elf.*
The system buzzed one final time, and the announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers. “Winner by takedown: Atlas! Team Portal Crushers!”
The arena shook with the roar of the crowd as Team Portal Crushers’ theme song blared through the speakers. Atlas stood in the center of the ring, soaking in the adoration of the crowd. He had done it—three challengers, three knockouts, and not a single significant hit landed on him.
“How did it feel, Atlas? What are your thoughts?” asked the announcer, thrusting a microphone toward him.
“It was a good fight. I respect the hell out of those guys; they took a chance with their reputations for this fight, and that couldn’t be easy. There are a lot of fighters in this world, but not many of them would have the guts to put it on the line like this.” He pointedly looked at some of the Sword & Iron fighters in the audience who were trying to avoid eye contact. The cameras definitely caught their embarrassment, though.
“I also want to say that I think this whole paperwork error was not the fault of the SFB organization. I know when you have such a large organization, you’re going to have a few bad apples in the group who make bad judgments. I look forward to chatting with the SFB afterward and hope they can review the judgment of probably only one person’s biased views.”
*Phew, that was some solid face-saving I gave the SFB,* Atlas thought. *Although it’s true what I said, by saying it aloud, it gave them a way out. This way, they can turn around and just fire one person. No need to pick a fight with the whole organization. Also, this whole charity fight should set me up nicely for my next secret goal, muahaha!*
In the stands, a group of excited fans was buzzing with energy. “Did you see that? Atlas just took them down like it was nothing!” one of them exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement.
“Yeah, but did you catch how he was totally playing with them? He didn’t even break a sweat!” another fan replied, shaking his head in disbelief.
“That kick though—Luke never saw it coming! Man, Atlas is on another level,” a third fan added, pumping his fist in the air.
“Do you think anyone can actually beat him?” the first fan asked, his voice tinged with awe.
The others fell silent for a moment before one of them finally spoke up. “I dunno, but if anyone’s gonna do it, they better bring their A-game. Atlas is a beast!”
The group nodded in agreement, the excitement in the air only growing as they continued to discuss the fight, their voices blending into the chorus of cheers and chants that filled the arena.
Back in the ring, Atlas took one last look around, the roar of the crowd washing over him. He had won this battle, but he knew there were more challenges ahead. And he was ready for whatever came next.