The Seven Demon's Tamer

The force exerted from the attack you delivered to Crusher was what gave him the capability to grab your fist while you punched him earlier," Luxy explained. "And as for how the iron golem was able to hurt you, it was from the power reflected from the kick you delivered to it."

Ryder nodded in realization as he stared at the two, waiting for them to make the first move. "Now I understand."

"Yeah," said Luxy. "You have to attack with enough strength towards Crusher that would knock him off the platform with guarantee."

"That wouldn't be easy, given that his annoying familiar is on the same platform as us," said Ryder.

"Or..." Luxy hesitated for a bit.

"Or what?" Ryder inquired, maintaining his outward composure while internally engaging with his familiar in a deep conversation.

"Or you summon me out to take care of the iron golem."

To be honest, Ryder never expected to be getting so much stress from a red mark summoner.

He had once single-handedly taken down a lava mantis beast without sustaining any injury or needing someone to assist him. He defeated it by overpowering it. But this was different.

If he wanted to defeat Crusher and his iron golem alone, he'd need to go all out as well as have the freedom to move freely beyond just the platform. In this duel, he was restricted from stepping out of the platform, or else it would be an automatic loss for him, and Crusher would be going home with the prize—the prize Ryder desperately needed.

If he wanted to defeat Crusher and his mantis alone, he'll need to go all out as well as have freedom to move freely.

In this duel, he is restricted from stepping out of the platform, or else it would be an automatic loss for him, and Crusher will be going home with the prize.

He wasn't participating in this tournament in order to fight or destroy any more familiars, but he came for the prize money.

"I'm quite curious," Crusher called out, his deep voice resonating throughout the warehouse, enough for everyone to easily hear. "Why haven't you summoned out your familiar yet?"

His tone shifted to one of mockery as he added, "Are you so ashamed of it?"

Taking a quick glance at his iron golem, Crusher strategized: My familiar can store a couple of attacks before it reaches its limit. If I can make him increase the hits he delivers to me, I would gain an edge when striking back.

The iron golem shifted its weight, metal joints creaking due to the subtle movement. Its face somehow managed to show menace despite being expressionless, empty eye sockets glowing with orange light from its internals. Unlike many other familiars, the iron golem was immune to pain and tiredness, making it able to use its affinity to the peak.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Ryder replied after a moment with Luxy in his mind.

Summoning Luxy would give Ryder more benefits than Crusher would even dream of—Ryder was aware of that better than anyone else. The Devil-Viper Bunny's raw physical capabilities would turn the tide of battle instantly. But there lay the problem—Ryder still could not summon Luxy in physical form.

He had summoned an ethereal projection of Luxy multiple times, but summoning him out as a real being was still beyond his capability.

"I'm just a Devil-Viper Bunny. You should be able to summon me," Luxy fired in an argumentative tone as he noticed Ryder's hesitation. It was nearly as if he could read Ryder's mind—because, in many ways, he could.

"Remember, Ryder," Luxy continued, his voice growing softer, "you were originally marked by the Dracogon, the demon monarch of the plain where I am just a mere inhabitant."

"If the Dracogon sees potential in you to be capable of being a summoner, then who the hell am I to be giving you even the slightest bit of trouble?"

Bwooom!

Seeing that Ryder wasn't making any move, Crusher, alongside his iron golem, blasted forward, rippling the air in their wake.

"Why are you standing there? Won't you make any move?" Crusher taunted as he readied his fist, slicing through the air as he closed the distance to Ryder. His muscular arm tensed, veins bulging beneath tattooed and scarred skin. "Or aren't you capable of summoning your pathetic familiar?"

Swoosh.

Crusher swung his fist at Ryder's head, putting his considerable weight behind the blow. The attack would have knocked out a lesser opponent, but Ryder was far from ordinary. With a simple tilt of his head, he dodged the attack, feeling the wind brush past his cheeks as the massive fist passed within a hair's breadth of his face.

His iron golem suddenly flashed behind Ryder with its fist readied as well.

Swoosh.

Yet again, Ryder hopped to the side, dodging the punch perfectly. The iron golem's fist crashed into the empty air where Ryder had stood before, the force of the missed blow creating a small shockwave that rippled outward.

"You call my familiar pathetic?" Ryder's voice was low, controlled, but carried a dangerous edge that even the audience from the last row could feel shivers running down their spine—the temperature around the platform seemed to drop several degrees.

"You know what?" Ryder began in a low tone. "Summoning my familiar for the likes of you is an insult to its dignity."

Opening his hand with his palms spread out, Ryder took his time. The black cloak billowed around him despite the lack of wind in the enclosed warehouse, allowing many to catch a glimpse of his lean, slightly muscular frame beneath.

His eyes, shadowed by his hood, began to emit a faint purple glow that no one seemed to notice.

"Ha ha!" Crusher laughed, masking his unease with unafraid composure. "You are amusing me, young one."

Slicing through the air with immense speed, Crusher came toward Ryder again, this time coordinating with his iron golem without speaking a word, rather giving it gestures—a remarkable intelligence for a familiar indeed.

The golem approached from the left while Crusher attacked from the right, leaving Ryder seemingly with nowhere to dodge.

Time seemed to slow as Ryder brought his palms together with minimal force, subconsciously channeling something through the motion that was beyond ordinary physical strength.

Clap.

That was all it took. A single clap with all his strength, not holding back.

The sound echoed through the arena like thunder, momentarily drowning out all other noise.

A heavy gust of wind blew through the entire platform as a single ripple of air current expanded outward from the point of impact between Ryder's palms.

Following it came a purple, dazzling current of some sort of energy—raw, recognizable energy that manifested in visible waves of force, blasting both Crusher and his iron golem without holding back.

The energy blasted both Crusher and his iron golem without mercy. One moment they were charging toward Ryder, confident in their coordinated attack; the next, they were in the air, thrown back by the force exerted from Ryder's clap.

Only one thing ran through Crusher's mind as he traveled through the air: "IMPOSSIBLE!"

Crash.

Crusher's body hit the ground beyond the platform's edge, skidding several meters through the ground before his momentum ended far away.

Crash.

The iron golem, despite weighing several hundred pounds, was sent flying in the opposite direction, bouncing on the ground multiple times before crashing through one of the supports, halting its motion.

They both lay defeated in different areas on the bare ground. There was no question—the duel was over. Crusher had been smacked out of the platform.

The announcer's jaw was wide agape many moments after Crusher was knocked out of the platform. Everyone's jaw was wide agape.

Crusher had been defeated!

Suddenly, the announcer snapped out of her daze and cleared her throat.

"Uh... um..."

"The tournament of today has finally come to an end, and the winner of the tournament for today is..."

"Blaaaaaaacckkk Deeeeviiiilll!!!!"

No cheers came, not even creaks from crickets of the night. Who would cheer in the first place after losing their bet... and a good chunk of their wealth?

Everyone—nearly everyone—had placed their bets on Crusher, and he had lost the fight to the odd figure in a cloak.

Of all the audience, only one person had a smile on their face: Brok.

Brok approached the platform where only Ryder was standing, with a soft smile plastered across his face.

"So you weren't all talk after all, kiddo."

Ryder, still on the platform, stared at his hands, seeing clearly—the purple energy crackling around his hands.

"What the hell..." Ryder whispered, moving his fingers and watching the energy respond to his movements.

Brok, who spoke earlier, was about to continue when he noticed it as well.

Brok was already about to ask when he noticed Ryder's expression through the cloak. Despite the fact that the cloak was masking his facial features, the confusion he felt at that moment seemed to penetrate out.

Ryder was confused as well. It was clear he didn't do it on purpose.

All of a sudden, the crackling energy faded off. Somehow, no one else noticed from the crowd other than Brok.

"Uh... um!"

"Congratulations, Black Devil. As promised—10,000 Terra gold coins," the announcer announced as the reward was being brought forward.

A tattooed, towering figure pushed a large metal cart toward the platform that had a huge chest on top of it.

On reaching the platform, he raised the chest singlehandedly up to the platform and opened it to reveal the gleaming Terra gold coins inside before closing it and handing it to Ryder.

"Do you have anything to say to the audience?" the announcer inquired.

It was a custom for tournament champions to make a speech—some boastful, some humble, but all with the sole purpose to entertain the crowds one final time before the arena emptied.

"No," Ryder replied flatly without thinking twice.

Raising the chest like a piece of paper, Ryder nodded once to the crowd and then made his way off the platform.

Brok, who was close to the platform waiting for him at the bottom, had a broad smile on his face.

"Black Devil... you surprised me," Brok smiled softly.

The sound of coins clashing against each other filled the air as Ryder separated Brok's share from the chest, ignoring the lustful eyes of the crowd that gathered around them.

Normally, no one would dare flaunt money or expose valuables in a place like this, dominated by gangsters, thieves, and opportunists of every stripe. But Ryder couldn't care less about the dangers... and no one dared to make any move against him.

They saw the battle on the platform clearly. Although Crusher proved to be some sort of pain to Ryder, they could tell who was stronger.

Ryder was as strong as both Crusher and his iron golem familiar put together—perhaps even stronger. The battle only extended for so long because Crusher switched fighting style from brutal charging into careful planning and tactics.

"Well, I'll be off," Ryder said, locking the chest with the special key that came along with it and grabbing its handle like he was holding on to a weightless briefcase before walking off toward the exit. "See you when I see you, Brok."

Probably never.