The circle burned with expectation. The crowd’s chant echoed like drums:

  — CHO-CO-LA-TI-NHO! CHO-CO-LA-TI-NHO!

  Akemi breathed calmly, her eyes locked on Lukas. Sweat ran down her face, but every movement stayed flawless.

  — You endure well, — she said, almost respectfully. — But endurance alone doesn’t defeat the Black Sun.

  She moved first. In seconds, Lukas was grabbed by the arm and thrown to the ground. The impact thundered through the square. Air burst out of his lungs in a dry gasp.

  — Get up, — Akemi demanded.

  César roared inside his mind:

  — Get up, boy! I didn’t die on the battlefield to see you fall before a girl!

  Morgana laughed, cruel and amused:

  — Or stay down, chocolatinho. It’ll be fun watching her dismantle you in front of everyone.

  Lukas pressed his hand against the ground, coughing.

  This body is weak… but I’ve fought broken, I’ve fought bleeding. I’m not falling now.

  He stood up, gasping. The crowd roared.

  Akemi didn’t wait. She came like thunder, closing the distance, locking his neck in a perfect chokehold. The world started to fade.

  From above, Tariq murmured:

  — It’s over.

  But on the ground, Lukas didn’t panic. Instead of fighting the pressure, he let his body go limp—too fluid to be controlled. At the right moment, he twisted his hips, hooked his leg under hers, and used her own momentum.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Akemi hit the ground, stunned.

  The square exploded.

  — YES! — Besouro roared, pounding his chest. — THAT’S MALANDRAGEM!

  Lukas rose, his eyes steady.

  — You won’t take me down that easily.

  Inside, another reality burned.

  I’ve faced monsters that crushed cities. I’ve smelled burned blood in the air.

  César growled:

  — That’s it, boy! Show them a soldier’s discipline!

  Morgana purred:

  — Ah, chocolatinho… if they knew what your hands have destroyed, they’d fear to look you in the eye.

  Akemi narrowed her eyes. For the first time—she hesitated.

  Chique-Chique laughed, his staff hitting the floor.

  — That boy… he dances even when he’s taking hits.

  Dariam, red with rage, spat:

  — It’s luck! Just luck!

  Akemi moved again, faster, sharper. Throws, locks, elbows. Lukas fell, rolled, stood. Fell again, stood again. The crowd screamed each time he barely escaped, the duel turning into an impossible game.

  Then Lukas changed the rhythm. He faked a stumble, fell on purpose—but caught her arm mid-move. With his leg, he trapped her stance and spun. The world flipped upside down—and Akemi landed flat on her back.

  The crowd exploded like it had just witnessed a miracle.

  — CHO-CO-LA-TI-NHO! CHO-CO-LA-TI-NHO!

  Akemi opened her eyes, still pinned underneath, and for the first time… smiled.

  — Hm. Maybe you’re not such a failure after all.

  Lukas gasped, arms shaking, but didn’t let go.

  — I survive. Always.

  Kyros stood, golden aura trembling behind him like an eclipse.

  — That’s my son. That’s Sorriso!

  The people screamed until the walls trembled.

  And Lukas, standing in the circle, felt his heart race.

  It wasn’t just about surviving anymore.

  It was about being recognized.

  This time… I’m not alone.

  End of Chapter 17