The Almighty Dominance

The Kingstons faced a crushing humiliation before the roaring crowd.noveldrama

Their fifth-best fighter was sprawled lifelessly in the dirt from just a single ruthless blow.

"God almighty, that was brutal!" someone shouted from the stands.

"Vancouver was never mighty like Chicago, sure, but this... this is just pathetic," another voice sneered sharply.

Angry jeers rose quickly, voices filled with scorn echoing around the arena.

"You've disgraced all of Vancouver, Kingstons!"

Jasmine's fists clenched, eyes blazing with rage as she turned to her remaining champions, her voice cold yet fiery.

"Which one of you is man enough to crush this brute and reclaim our honor?"

"Ms. Kingston," Vann Damme announced, stepping forward confidently, his movements fluid, eyes sharp.

"Allow me to handle this disgrace personally."

He moved to the center of the ring, every step resonating with determination.

Among Vancouver's top fighters, he was unquestionably the strongest, the pride and hope of their state.

Victory now wasn't merely about winning a single fight-it meant restoring their shaken pride, lifting their people's spirits once again.

"Alex, think he'll pull it off?" Kelly asked quietly, eyes glued to the impending battle.

"It's tough to call," Alex said thoughtfully.

"That barbarian looks strange, unpredictable. If Vann finds a weakness quickly, exploits it relentlessly, he might have a fighting chance. But something about Vann feels off. Are you certain he's alright?"

Victoria laughed coldly, her eyes flashing with contempt.

"Ridiculous! You think that lumbering barbarian has a chance against Mr. Damme? All he has to do is dance circles around him, tire him out, and that barbarian will collapse like a sack of bones!"

Alex said nothing further, eyes narrowed, observing carefully.

The referee climbed onto the ring, his voice firm, echoing through the tense air.

"No rules inside this ring. Life and death are in your hands alone. Defeat comes from surrender, severe injury, death, or being thrown out of the ring. Are we clear?"

Both men nodded sharply, glaring daggers at each other.

"Then fight!"

A deafening roar erupted from the audience, the energy electrifying as Vann squared his stance, sword gleaming dangerously.

"I've heard enough tales about your cruelty," Vann growled, eyes piercing. "Ends here and now."

With lightning swiftness, Vann launched forward, sword slashing fiercely through the air, aimed at taking immediate control and wearing down the brute with relentless precision and speed.

But the barbarian moved with alarming agility, his massive club slicing through the air to meet Vann's assault head-on.

The moment sword met club, shock surged through Vann's body as though he'd collided with a mountain, bones rattling, muscles straining.

"That all you've got, big guy?" Vann snarled defiantly, though pain laced every word.

Gritting his teeth, he surged forward again, slashing twice more-once at the barbarian's side, then a fierce blow aimed at his exposed back, striking at weaknesses any normal man would have crumbled under.

Van believed he would win, as Conan was unable to defend against it.

Yet just as his blade neared the brute's skin, a wave of sickening dizziness swept through Vann.

His vision blurred, limbs weakening inexplicably.

A violent cough erupted from his throat, blood spraying uncontrollably from his

mouth, staining the ground crimson as the crowd watched in horror.

The barbarian smirked coldly, his massive shadow looming over the struggling warrior as Vann Damme's knees buckled, his victory slipping tragically from his grasp.

Conan's lips curled into a wicked grin, his eyes glinting with dark understanding.

He hefted his massive club with

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cruel ease, swinging it upward in a brutal arc toward Van Damme's skull, as if he were smashing a golf ball to send it flying as far as possible.

Van Damme reacted on instinct, raising his sword to shield his head, but the collision shattered expectations.

The club struck with ruthless force, bending the sword's blade as if it were molten

steel, and slammed mercilessly into Van Damme's torso.

His body was hurled violently backward, tumbling through the air like a ragdoll flung by an angry child, landing with a sickening crash outside the arena.

Unlike before, Van Damme did not remain motionless.

He struggled to his feet, gasping, clutching his chest as a surge of blood erupted from his mouth, staining the ground crimson.

"Poison! I've been poisoned!" Van Damme's desperate shout echoed across the silent, stunned crowd.

"You pathetic coward!" Conan's roar boomed through the arena.

"You blame poison when it's nothing but your own weakness? Admit it, you miserable bastard! I fight with honor, fists, and strength-not petty tricks!" Victoria stood frozen, shock etched deep into every line of her pale face.

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"Impossible! Mr. Damme defeated?" Her voice trembled, barely audible as she watched her daughter's champion, once invincible, now broken and bloodied. The barbarian's strength surpassed every dark prediction.

Jasmine's face tightened with grim awareness. "Who the hell is this barbarian? Even Mr. Damme couldn't stand against him."

Alex's eyes sharpened dangerously, his voice dropping into a fierce whisper.

"Van Damme wasn't lying-he really has been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Jasmine gasped, her voice catching in her throat.

"It won't kill, but it wrecks the organs and saps all strength. It reduces a warrior to

a hollow shell," Alex said sharply.

"Who would dare?" Jasmine turned swiftly, locking eyes with the other Vancouver elites.

The pale faces and shaking bodies confirmed the grim truth.

"We can't fight like this," one muttered hoarsely.

"Same here," another added weakly, dread evident in their hollow expressions.

Alex acted quickly, pulling out antidotes from his coat. "Take these. It'll stabilize you, but you'll be useless for hours."

The referee's voice thundered impatiently over the growing murmurs of disbelief. "Kingston loses the second round! Victory goes to Chicago! Send your next fighter now!"

Conan howled with derisive laughter, eyes ablaze with arrogance.

"Is Vancouver filled only with cowards? I've barely broken a sweat, and you've already fallen apart! What a pathetic city!"

Jasmine's jaw tightened, fury and frustration mingling in her clenched fists.

She scanned her ranks desperately, but her top fighters avoided her gaze, their bodies weakened, spirits shattered.

"Ten minutes!" the referee's sharp command cut through the chaotic whispers. "Send your fighter or forfeit the next match!"

All eyes shifted accusingly toward Jasmine's bench. Bystanders whispered and shook their heads in disgust.

Byson's voice rose, thick with disdain.

"What the hell's happened to Vancouver's finest? Two defeats, and they're

already too scared to face a single barbarian! This disgrace shames every one of

us!"

Charles watched from afar, a sinister smile hidden behind cold eyes, every piece of this twisted puzzle aligning perfectly with his dark scheme.