From Survivor to Vanisher

Aditya sat in his small room, staring at the polished silver mirror Dhruva had left behind before his mysterious disappearance. The questions he had about his mentor still swirled in his mind, but for now, they would have to wait. He had a different plan—one that required a complete transformation.

He held up a small vial of shimmering, greenish liquid—an alchemical concoction he had perfected over months of experimentation. It was his own creation, a facial-altering poison that temporarily distorted the skin's texture and pigmentation.

"Becoming famous is just asking for trouble," Aditya muttered to himself. "If people know your name, they'll come for you. Better to be a ghost, a shadow... or better yet, a masked enigma."

With practiced precision, he applied a few drops of the poison to his face. It stung briefly, but soon his reflection began to change. His features blurred, his nose appearing more hooked, his cheekbones sharper. Satisfied, he reached for the mask—a simple yet imposing design of black leather with silver accents. When he wore it, only his sharp eyes were visible.

The transformation complete, Aditya pocketed the vial and donned a dark, hooded cloak. The figure staring back at him in the mirror was no longer Aditya, the errand boy turned alchemist. He was someone else entirely.

As he left his room, he muttered to himself, "Silent Poison. The name's growing on me. Better than Masked Idiot." He chuckled at his own joke, shaking his head.

The city buzzed with life as Aditya walked through the streets toward the arena district. His newly altered face and black mask concealed his identity, transforming him into someone entirely unrecognizable. Despite the anonymity, his heart thumped with excitement.

"Time to understand what this arena fuss is about," he muttered, slipping his hands into his cloak pockets.

The arena district was a chaotic hive of activity. Vendors hawked food and trinkets, spectators placed bets, and fighters of all shapes and sizes mingled in preparation for their matches. Two massive buildings dominated the area, each bearing intricate carvings and banners.

Aditya paused to read one of the signs:

The Beast Pit: Test your strength against the most ferocious creatures in the land.

He turned to the second building, a darker and more ominous structure:

The Blood Circle: Battle against criminals, bounty hunters, and warriors for glory and wealth.

He chuckled. "Beasts or humans? Decisions, decisions..."

The Rules of the Arena

Before choosing his path, Aditya approached the registration desk, where a large, burly man sat behind a counter cluttered with papers.

"Name?" the man barked.

Aditya hesitated for a moment before replying, "Silent Poison."

The man scribbled the name onto a parchment and sized him up. "First time, huh? You look more like a bookworm than a fighter. Hope you survive the night."

Aditya smirked under his mask. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

The man grunted and pushed a small token across the counter. "This is your fighter badge. As an Initiate, you'll start at the bottom of the rankings. Here are the rules:

Three matches per day maximum. More than that, and you risk serious injury or worse.No killing in non-ranked matches. Lethal techniques are only allowed in ranked matches in The Blood Circle.No sabotage or cheating outside the ring. The arena handles disputes harshly.Choose your fights carefully. You can either fight beasts or humans, but switching between the two costs an entry fee of 50 celestial gold coins.Winners earn rewards based on match difficulty. Losers… well, let's just say there aren't many repeat offenders."

Aditya raised an eyebrow. "No killing, huh? What about poisons?"

The man leaned forward, his voice lowering. "Poisons are allowed as long as they're non-lethal. Anything else, and you'll be disqualified—or worse. The arena doesn't tolerate rule breakers."

Aditya nodded. "Sounds fair. What's the entry fee?"

"Ten celestial gold coins for Initiates. Prizes start at twenty coins for a win. Higher ranks earn more."

Aditya grimaced inwardly. His pouch contained only 200 celestial gold coins—a decent sum, but it could deplete quickly if he wasn't careful.

He handed over the coins and pocketed the badge. "I'll start in The Blood Circle."

The man shrugged. "Your funeral. Go through the eastern gate and wait for your turn."

The Blood Circle

The Blood Circle was as ominous as its name suggested. The air buzzed with tension as fighters prepared for their matches. Some meditated, others tested their weapons, and a few exchanged heated words.

Aditya found a quiet corner to observe. His eyes scanned the crowd, noting the wide variety of fighters. Some were lean and agile, while others were hulking giants. Each one radiated a unique aura of danger.

"Interesting bunch," he muttered. "But it's the rules that intrigue me most. Non-lethal poisons, huh? Guess I'll have to get creative."

He reached into his cloak and pulled out a few vials of his alchemical concoctions. Each one had been carefully crafted over years of experimentation. One could paralyze, another could cause hallucinations, and a third could sap energy without leaving a trace.

Aditya grinned. "Let's see how these hold up in a fight."

The Start of the Match

After what felt like hours, a booming voice echoed through the arena.

"Next match: Silent Poison versus Iron Fang!"

Aditya stood up, adjusting his mask and cloak. "Silent Poison… really nailed that name," he muttered sarcastically. "I'm about as silent as a drunk bard."

The crowd roared with excitement as he stepped into the ring.

The Blood Circle was a circular arena with high stone walls, designed to keep the fighters—and their egos—contained. The floor was littered with scorch marks, dents, and stains that Aditya didn't want to think about too much.

His opponent, Iron Fang, was a wiry man with sharp features, dressed in tight leather armor that screamed "try-hard." His smirk revealed two jagged teeth that looked suspiciously like they came from a bad crafting job rather than genetics.

The announcer's voice rang out again. "A newcomer, Silent Poison, faces Iron Fang, a Balance Seeker known for his precision strikes and ruthless efficiency!"

Aditya tilted his head. "Ruthless efficiency? Is that just a fancy way of saying he cheats?"

The gong sounded, signaling the start of the match.

Iron Fang immediately charged forward, his daggers gleaming under the arena lights. "I'll make this quick, newbie!"

Aditya sidestepped the attack with a yawn. "You call that quick? I've seen sloths move faster."

The crowd chuckled, but Iron Fang's smirk turned into a scowl. He spun around, aiming a dagger at Aditya's ribs.

Aditya caught the blade between his fingers. "Oh, shiny! Is this real iron, or did you pick it up at the discount stall?"

Iron Fang growled and pulled back, spinning into a series of rapid strikes. Aditya ducked, weaved, and even casually walked to the side, avoiding each attack with exaggerated movements.

"Are you trying to hit me, or are you practicing an interpretive dance routine?" Aditya asked, feigning concern. "Because I've got to say, it's very… expressive."

The crowd erupted in laughter, and Iron Fang's face turned red.

Aditya decided it was time to up the ante. Pulling a small vial from his belt, he tossed it to the ground. A puff of blue mist spread through the arena.

Iron Fang hesitated, coughing as the mist surrounded him.

"What's this? Some kind of poison?"

Aditya shrugged. "Nope. Just lavender-scented mist. Thought you could use some aromatherapy to relax a bit."

Iron Fang stumbled, his movements sluggish. "What… did you…"

"Oh, that?" Aditya said, pointing to the mist. "Tiny bit of paralysis mixed with drowsiness. Shouldn't be lethal unless you're allergic to naps."

Iron Fang tried to lunge forward but ended up tripping over his own feet.

Aditya tutted. "Careful! That floor's seen better days. Don't want to scuff your boots, do you?"

The crowd roared with laughter as Iron Fang flailed, trying to regain his balance.

Deciding to end the fight with flair, Aditya walked up to the wobbling Iron Fang. "You've had a long day, buddy. Let me help you out."

He tapped a few pressure points on Iron Fang's arm, causing the dagger to drop. Then, with a swift tap to the shoulder, Iron Fang collapsed onto his back, groaning.

The announcer's voice boomed. "Winner: Silent Poison!"

Aditya gave a mock bow, his cloak billowing dramatically. "Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all night. Well, not really, because I've got places to be and people to annoy."

As he exited the ring, he heard murmurs from the crowd.

"Who is this guy?"

"Silent Poison? More like Talking Poison!"

"I want to see him fight again!"

Aditya smirked under his mask. "Not bad for a debut. Let's see if I can keep this streak going without dying of laughter.