Let the fight... begin.

Crusher wasted no time with his offensive strikes.

He blasted forward with a leap, covering the distance between him and his opponent nearly instantly.

Whoosh.

He swung his fist straight at Green Bloody's face. With the power enhancement he had gotten from his familiar, the punch was catastrophic. The air itself seemed to compress around Crusher's fist, creating a small shockwave that ruffled Green Bloody's hair.

No, more appropriately, the punch would have been catastrophic if it had hit.

Green Bloody dodged the punch, much to Crusher's greatest shock, by ducking under his arm and swiftly appearing behind him. His movement was fluid in its grace.

Unlike the few others Crusher had fought, he instantly recognized that Green Bloody wouldn't be easy.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. No one had ever made Crusher miss so completely since today's tournament began.

Wham!

A punch that connected with Crusher's jaw in the next instant caused a temporary brain shutdown for Crusher. It wasn't just the force—which was impressive coming from the smaller man—but technique implementation. Green Bloody had struck with his punch, carefully targeting the area that momentarily scrambled Crusher's neural pathways.

His legs staggered, momentarily forgetting their purpose, while blood spewed out of his mouth.

Leaping upwards, Green Bloody spun around clockwise, just to gather momentum for his next strike, which came too fast for Crusher to process. It was a kick. Green Bloody's leg arced through the air with blinding speed. His foot connected with Crusher's chest with a sound like thunder.

"That is a martial arts technique from the Eastern Isles," one of the spectators commented. "Dragon's Tail Sweep. Supposed to be impossible to master unless you train from childhood."

Crusher's whole body was lifted off the ground, heading off the platform. For a moment, he was suspended in the air, his face frozen in genuine surprise—perhaps the first time in a long time he'd felt that particular emotion.

Everyone was stunned, and most clenched their fists.

"What the hell is going on?" was the thought on their minds. It was just too surprising for them. They had all placed their bets on Crusher, and now... he was about to lose.

Ryder watched in fascination as Crusher's massive frame flew through the air. There was something almost beautiful about seeing such a feared fighter brought so low.

Crusher's whole body was halfway off the platform, still in the air, when suddenly, it halted.

To be more precise, it was grabbed by something—a beast with distinctive features, none other than his very own familiar.

The entire audience, who held their tongues in hope, suddenly erupted into cheers. The sound was like a wave crashing against a shore—starting small but building to a thunderous sound wave.

"He summoned it!" someone shouted. "Crusher summoned his familiar!"

"That was close," muttered the well-dressed man in a suit who had bet ten thousand Terra gold coins on Crusher. He wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

Crusher's familiar, an iron golem, was standing ten feet tall, towering above all of them. It wasn't just tall—it was massive. It looked like someone had taken an entire mountain and compressed it into humanoid form.

Its eyes were red, constantly emitting black smoke—a fireless smoke that curled and twisted in the air.

Its body was hard; one could tell with a single glance. The surface resembled metal that had been repeatedly heated and cooled over and over again, creating a complex pattern of ridges and valleys. Cracks ran through its body, where a red light could be seen glowing from within—as if magma flowed through its veins instead of blood.

"What the hell." Ryder's eyes widened.

The iron golem placed Crusher gently back on the platform, its movements surprisingly delicate for something so massive. It seemed to possess intelligence to some extent due to the way it took up a position behind its master, crossing its arms across its chest in a stance that somehow made it appear like a professional bouncer.

Crusher straightened, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He grinned, revealing teeth stained with blood.

"That," he said to Green Bloody, his voice a rumble as he cracked his neck, "was a good shot. It's been a while since I last tasted my own blood."

One of the major downsides he had noticed about summoners while summoning their familiars is the fact that the summoning process is time-consuming.

Usually, a summoner needed at least a few seconds of concentration, often accompanied by specific gestures—especially for weaker summoners.

Smart opponents often use this fact to their advantage, trying to take down the opposing partner. This was normally one of the few aces up Green Bloody's sleeve he could rely on, but unfortunately, Crusher was different.

What Crusher did right before his eyes made everything he thought was the case appear like a lie.

One moment, the beast was confined in Crusher's mark, and the next moment, it was outside, holding on to him.

There wasn't any fog materializing in the air to form his familiar.

It was just so surprising... and hard to believe. He summoned his beast in a fraction of a second.

"Did you see that?" Ryder whispered to no one in particular. "How did he summon so quickly?"

An older man standing nearby with a face filled with wrinkles shook his head in wonder. "That's why he's Crusher. They say he's discovered a technique that bonds him so completely with his familiar that the line between summoner and beast becomes blurred.

Some even claim the familiar is always present, just... invisible to our eyes until needed."

Most people, during their fight with Crusher, always have one goal in common, and that is to strike him brutally, faster than he could summon his beast. Few succeeded. Fewer still lived to tell the tale.

Of all the colored markings of summoners, red is the most uncommon to be seen wandering in the streets, and this is exactly who Crusher is. When one successfully contracts a beast from the red mark plain, it is as good as hitting the jackpot.

That person isn't meant to face any struggles with finance or other minor challenges. Lots of guilds and industries would strive to get the red-mark summoner under them. No matter how useless the beast could be, the fact that it is red-marked never failed to influence.

Rumors about Crusher have circulated since he recently joined the Underlings tournament.

Some say he rejected all the offers from the guilds inviting him and chose to live in the trenches; others said he was rejected.

"I heard he killed the son of a guild master in a bar fight," a drunk spectator slurred. "That's why no guild will recruit him now."

"Nah, definitely a lie," his equally intoxicated friend countered. "What would the son of a grand master be doing at a bar attended by lowlifes like us?"

Crusher refuses to join any guild because he refuses to be controlled. He values his freedom more than anything.

All in all, the reason—why he was still in the trenches—was still unknown, but who cares? Most people were happy about this fact because whatever tournament he participated in equals free money for them.

A lot of people would be ready to bet their life savings on him. Today was no different. The betting tables surrounding the arena were crowded before the tournament began, with people placing wagers, the odds so heavily stacked in Crusher's favor that one had to bet a high amount just to win a few coins.

Only the most desperate or foolish would bet against Crusher. Yet there were always some who did—those who had some crazy motives or those who simply couldn't afford to play it safe, just like Brok.

The potential payoff for a bet against Crusher was large, in fact astronomical. If only someone could actually defeat him.

At the platform, Green Bloody seemed to have realized he was in a big mess. He tried to take down Crusher before Crusher could summon his beast and, for a brief moment, he thought he succeeded until the iron golem was summoned in a flash.

His earlier confidence had visibly disappeared, replaced by determination. He knew his chance of victory had just reduced to one quarter, but there was no backing down in the underground arena. You either won, or you were carried out.

Ripping off the sleeve on his left arm, his orange mark came into view.

Many tried to hold back their laughter at this sight—those who weren't participating in any fight against Crusher, of course.

The orange mark wasn't too bad in this society of summoners. Brown was the weakest, while orange was the average and, of course, red was the strongest.

The sight of an orange-marked fighter trying to act cool in a battle against a red-marked one, and Crusher in particular, appeared quite funny.

"Is he trying to intimidate Crusher by showing his mark?" a spectator asked, causing the crowd to echo with laughter.

Ripping off his sleeve... Was that really necessary?

Orange mist escaped from his arm, materializing in the air. Unlike Crusher's instantaneous summoning, Green Bloody's process was far slower. The orange mist thickened, swirling and condensing until it began to take shape—first a rough outline, then more detailed features emerging from the mist.

"Destroying you too quickly won't be fun," Crusher spoke, and he waited patiently for Green Bloody to completely summon his familiar.

Ravage Fang—the name of Green Bloody's beast—is Ravage Fang.

It is a wolf-like creature with red eyes that exudes nothing but bloodlust.

Its fur was a blend of colors—brown, black, and a bit of white. But calling it simply a wolf would be like calling a tornado a breeze.

This was a wolf that felt like it was brought out of someone's nightmare—larger than any natural wolf by far, with teeth like curved daggers and claws that glinted.

Awwwwwoooooooooooooooo!

Upon summoning, the first thing it did was a loud howl—a howl that absorbed all the noise in the air into an eerie silence.

"Is this truly an orange-mark beast?" someone spoke from the side.

If it is, then it is quite intimidating for an orange mark.

Vwoom!

The iron golem and Ravage Fang both charged forward with surprising speed. The speed of the golem was even more surprising. For something of that size to move with such speed was astonishing.

Its feet left small craters on the hard concrete floor of the platform with each step, while Ravage Fang seemed to barely touch the ground, almost flying across the surface.

Green Bloody and Crusher both charged forward as well, trailing right behind their familiars.

Leaping into the air with an abnormally high jump, Crusher readied his arm and descended. Both of his arms were above his head, ready to smash.

Seeing this, Green Bloody slammed his leg into the ground, raising a chunk of rock and hurling it toward Crusher, who was descending from the air.

Crusher smashed the rock in midair, destroying it and allowing particles of it to rain down.

Meanwhile, the familiars had engaged in their own battle. Ravage Fang launched at the iron golem with its maw wide open, attempting to snap its teeth at the hard body of the iron golem.

The wolf-beast moved with incredible speed, its form almost blurring with motion, but still, the human eyes could trace the movement.

Swinging its arm at Ravage Fang from the side, it delivered a successful hit, splashing black blood into the air.

This attack distorted Ravage Fang's senses, rendering it immobile for a brief moment. The beast staggered, its legs wobbling as it tried to regain its balance.

That brief moment didn't seem so brief. The iron golem slammed its large feet at Ravage Fang, threatening to squash it into a pulp upon collision.

Awwwwwoooooooooooooooo!

Ravage Fang howled again into the air as his body was pinned to the ground by the iron golem's leg, resting on top of it.

Ravage Fang's eyes felt like they would fall out of their sockets as it winced in pain.

"That beast is done for," a spectator near Ryder commented. "No way it's getting up from that."

But Ravage Fang wasn't finished yet.

Raising its large feet into the air, the iron golem attempted to slam its feet again on Ravage Fang; however, the attack was unsuccessful this time around. Ravage Fang summoned a burst of speed and agility.

The attack was unsuccessful this time around. Ravage Fang quickly got up from the ground and ran away from the incoming attack, dodging it by an inch. Its movements were less fluid now, favoring the iron golem over him but still impressively quick.

Meanwhile, the summoners themselves were engaged in fierce combat. Green Bloody delivered a heavy punch at Crusher's chest with all the strength he could muster; however, to his greatest shock, the fist bounced off Crusher's bare chest as if he'd struck a wall of solid granite.

Crusher grinned, the expression more menacing than amused. "My turn," he rumbled.

With a single hand, Crusher grabbed Green Bloody by his neck and lifted him upwards like a piece of paper. Green Bloody's feet dangled helplessly above the platform, his face quickly reddening as his air supply was cut off.

He tried to break free from Crusher's grip as he struggled with his hands against Crusher's hand while swinging and throwing his legs in frustration. But it was like trying to bend steel with bare hands—Crusher's enhanced strength made his grip unbreakable.

Slam

With pure malice, Crusher slammed Bloody into the ground, shattering a layer of the ground while Bloody coughed blood from his eyes and nose.

Getting on one knee on the ground, Crusher raised his fist upward and swung it at Bloody's ribs, who was lying with his back against the ground. The impact shook the ground.

Crack

He coughed more blood as he felt his ribs, cracked from the collision of Crusher's punch against him.

Getting up on both feet, Crusher stretched his legs backwards and...

Wham

He delivered a kick on Bloody's jaw vertically with so much force that it rippled the air, sending Bloody's whole body skidding on the ground and digging it in the process as his body scraped against it.

Bloody's body halted just a few centimeters away from being knocked off the platform. He lay motionless except for the subtle rise and fall of his chest, indicating that he was still alive, if barely.

"Come on, get up," Crusher spoke with a malicious grin across his face.

With his eyes struggling to stay active, Bloody turned in an attempt to stare at the fight between his familiar and Crusher's, when a wave of blood suddenly covered his face.

The blood, he recognized. It is the blood of his very own familiar.

Thud

The iron golem tossed the lumped body of Ravage Fang towards Bloody on the ground and walked behind his master. The wolf-beast's beautiful fur was now covered in black blood, its limbs bent at unnatural angles, its chest rising and falling as it struggled to breathe.

With a piercing gaze, they both stared down on Bloody and his familiar.

Bloody's blood and the blood of his familiar were all over the place. They have been bloodied.

I give up. This was the last word of Green Bloody before he passed out.

The announcer climbed back onto the platform, careful to avoid the blood and debris. He raised Crusher's massive arm into the air.

"Your winner, still undefeated—CRUSHER!"

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