I Was Born With A Bloodline That Ended The World-Chapter 95: Ragdoll physics

The event continued, energy building in the arena as matches played out.

Each duel brought cheers and gasps, some over quickly with decisive strikes, others dragging on with sweat-soaked determination.

Rhian and Nia stood together, shoulder to shoulder as they watched the board update with new names, each one followed by a swell of noise from the crowd.

Finally, a pause. The announcer’s voice boomed out, carrying across the packed stands and echoing off the high walls.

"RHIAN LOCKE VERSUS RANDY CRUDE!"

A wave of excitement washed through the air. Rhian felt it settle in his bones, a shiver that wasn’t nerves, but anticipation.

He pumped his chest once, a steady breath pulling in the roar of the crowd. A pat on his back made him glance over, Nia stood there, her lips quirking up.

"Good luck," she said, her voice low but firm, a small smile on her face.

Rhian nodded once, his mouth pulling into a faint grin. "Thanks."

He could feel eyes on him, the weight of so many curious stares. But he didn’t mind.

He liked that.

He walked forward, the ground beneath his boots solid and familiar. The arena was built like a coliseum, old stone repurposed into a battleground, ringed by thick walls and tiered seating that pressed close around the circle of sand and stone.

As he stepped inside, the noise grew, a rumble that settled in his chest.

Randy was already waiting for him. Rhian’s eyes flicked up and down the man’s frame.

The physical carrier was massive, taller than Rhian by a head, broad-shouldered and thick-armed, his knuckles cracked and scarred from too many fights to count.

The man’s expression was calm, his stance wide and sure. He didn’t look nervous. He looked... hungry.

Rhian’s own mouth twitched. Good. He liked that.

Rhian squared his shoulders and took a slow breath, his eyes never leaving Randy’s.

Rhian wasn’t intimidated. He had fought plenty of bigger men in the simulation. Strength alone didn’t win fights, especially not against someone who had learned to use every ounce of their body’s power like he had.

He could feel the energy of the crowd, their excitement and curiosity.

It washed over him, but he kept his focus locked on the man in front of him.

Randy’s eyes were cold, calculating, but there was also a flicker of something else, maybe surprise that Rhian didn’t seem fazed by his size.

Rhian’s wings flexed slightly at his back, settling into place as he rolled his shoulders.

The air between them seemed to tighten as the two prepared, the crowd quieting just a fraction as the tension built.

Randy raised his fists, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "I hope you’re ready to be broken, little man," he rumbled.

Rhian tilted his head slightly, his own grin cutting sharp and confident. "You’re big, but you’re slow," he said. "Let’s see if you can keep up."

The announcer’s voice rang out, "BEGIN!"

Randy lunged forward, his massive form surprisingly fast for his size.

Rhian twisted out of the way at the last second, his footwork quick and precise.

He felt the rush of air as Randy’s punch whistled past his face, close enough to feel the heat of it.

Rhian’s grin widened. He liked this. He liked feeling the raw power and pushing himself to find the edges of his own strength.

His body moved on instinct, slipping under Randy’s guard and delivering a sharp jab to the man’s ribs. The impact was solid, but Randy barely flinched.

"Not bad," Randy grunted, turning his bulk with a fluid twist and slamming his shoulder into Rhian.

The blow sent Rhian skidding back a few feet, his boots digging into the arena floor as he steadied himself.

The crowd roared, the noise like thunder in his ears. Rhian didn’t care. He could feel his blood singing, every nerve alive with the thrill of the fight.

Randy came at him again, each step a hammer blow against the ground.

Rhian’s mind worked in overdrive, reading the man’s movements, feeling the weight behind every punch.

He ducked low, his wings flaring out to shield against a sweeping punch. The strike glanced off the furred feathers, the impact muted by their hidden strength.

Rhian’s counter came fast, a blur of movement as he twisted and slammed his elbow into Randy’s gut.

The bigger man grunted, stepping back just enough for Rhian to slide in close and deliver a short, brutal uppercut.

Rhian’s uppercut landed with a crack that sent Randy’s head snapping back, his massive body lifting off the ground as if gravity had decided to take a break.

It was almost surreal, like watching a slab of living stone float up weightless, arms spread wide, mouth open in a wordless grunt.

Rhian’s smirk was sharp and sure. He didn’t let the moment go to waste.

He bent his knees and launched himself up, meeting Randy in the air, slipping between the man’s thick legs and grabbing them tight. The world seemed to tilt for a second, air rushing past Rhian’s ears.

Then he began to spin.

Their bodies turned in the air, momentum building with every rotation.

The crowd went silent for a split second, the only sounds were the sharp intake of breath and the rush of blood in Rhian’s veins.

Faster, faster, he felt the strain in his arms and shoulders, the weight of the other man dragging at him like a storm trying to pull him down.

But he didn’t let go.

He spun them again and again, the motion smooth and practiced. The blurred walls of the arena flashed by like streaks of gray and stone. Even in that chaos, Rhian kept his grip iron-tight, his eyes focused and his mind calm.

Finally, he felt the momentum peak, the perfect point where force and weight met and balanced for a breath. He shifted his stance and released his hold.

Randy’s massive body became a missile, flung from Rhian’s hands like a shot put. He flew across the arena, an arc of brute strength and helpless velocity.

He crashed into the stone wall on the far side, face first. The impact was loud enough to make a few of the front-row students flinch, the crack of stone and bone ringing out over the sudden hush of the crowd.

A plume of dust rose from the impact site, and Randy’s body slumped down, leaving a faint crack in the wall as he slid to the ground.

The arena was still for a beat. Then the noise hit, cheers, gasps, half-choked laughter from those who couldn’t believe what they’d just seen.

Rhian landed on his feet, his boots skidding slightly on the worn arena floor. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he straightened up. He didn’t smile this time, he just watched.

Randy was still breathing, his massive shoulders heaving as he pushed himself upright, blood dripping from his nose and lips. He spat onto the dirt, his face twisted in a snarl.

"Not bad," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Not bad at all."

Rhian tilted his head slightly, his eyes hard and focused. He didn’t say anything. Words weren’t needed here.

Randy’s mouth twisted into a grin. "Alright, kid. Let’s see how long you can keep that up."

He pushed off from the wall, his feet digging into the dirt as he came at Rhian again, every step shaking the ground like a minor quake.

Rhian didn’t flinch. He just braced his stance, eyes locked on the approaching giant, ready to meet that next rush head-on.