Character
The cage door clanged shut, the sound swallowed by the chants of the underground crowd. Korda Veydran stood bare-chested, muscles thick with scars and ink that told stories of battles long past. His red eyes glinted under the low lights, giving him a look that was half-warrior, half-predator.
His opponent circled, throwing jabs to test him. Korda didn't flinch. He simply planted his feet, shoulders loose, waiting. When the swing finally came, Korda surged forward. Their bodies collided with a dull crack as his head slammed against the fighter's brow. The man staggered, dazed, while the crowd roared.
Korda pressed in, fists flying like sledgehammers, each strike meant to end the fight rather than drag it out. He wasn't here for glory. He wasn't here for cheers. This was just another arena, another wall to break, another reminder that he was still the storm his clan had cast out.
His opponent circled, throwing jabs to test him. Korda didn't flinch. He simply planted his feet, shoulders loose, waiting. When the swing finally came, Korda surged forward. Their bodies collided with a dull crack as his head slammed against the fighter's brow. The man staggered, dazed, while the crowd roared.
Korda pressed in, fists flying like sledgehammers, each strike meant to end the fight rather than drag it out. He wasn't here for glory. He wasn't here for cheers. This was just another arena, another wall to break, another reminder that he was still the storm his clan had cast out.