The next few days flew by in a blur.Joaquin trained harder than he ever had before.He knew he had to focus on his training first, before he could go back to Serena.He was still worried—God, he was always worried—but he had to set it aside for now.If he wanted to get her back, he needed to win. He needed to be strong enough.Under Miguel’s sharp and relentless supervision, Joaquin sparred daily with Rick, working on his speed, his reflexes, and his technique.He pushed himself past exhaustion, past the ache in his muscles, until the only thing left was pure willpower.And there was something else—something strange inside him.That strange energy, that force he barely understood, was growing.It seemed to answer to his emotions, flaring to life whenever he thought of Serena, whenever he imagined her lost and confused, married off to a man she didn't even love.The stronger his resolve became, the stronger the energy surged inside him, crackling just beneath the surface of his skin.

The air backstage was thick with sweat, blood, and tension.Joaquin moved with slow, deliberate steps, the cheers of the crowd still ringing in his ears. Every muscle in his body ached. His knuckles were split and bruised. His ribs burned with every breath. But none of that mattered. Not now.He hadn't forgotten.He couldn't forget.This fight was never just about the championship.It was about justice.It was about Master Iroh.Her sister, Jasmine.And George Beckham still had answers he hadn’t given.Miguel and Rick tried to steer him toward the locker rooms, but Joaquin shook them off with a tight jerk of his head.There was something he needed to do first."Give me a minute," he said, voice rough.Miguel frowned. "Joaquin—""I won't kill him," Joaquin said flatly. "Just talk."Miguel hesitated, then finally nodded. Rick crossed his arms, staying close but silent.George had just been hauled off the arena floor by two of his lackeys, limping heavily toward the private medical room

"Serena!"Joaquin rushed to her side without wasting a second.He scooped her up carefully and checked her condition.She was unconscious—but there was still a pulse."Serena, wake up!" he pleaded, gently tapping her cheek."My daughter!"Emilio suddenly appeared, hurrying toward them."You! Let her go!" he shouted, his voice laced with fury.But Joaquin didn’t even flinch.His throat tightened when he realized how faint her pulse was.Without hesitation, he pulled her closer and tried to leave——but Emilio and several of his bodyguards blocked his path."Where do you think you’re going?! Are you trying to kidnap her in broad daylight?!" Emilio barked, disbelief clear in his voice."She’s weak! She needs to be taken to a hospital!" Joaquin shot back.James stepped between them, arms spread as if shielding Serena."No! If she’s really sick, I’ll be the one to take her!" he insisted.Joaquin tightened his hold on Serena, feeling the panic and rage brewing inside him."We don't have time

The doors slammed shut behind Joaquin.For a moment, the world outside disappeared—and it was just him, Serena, and the fight that was about to begin.He quickly scrubbed in, his hands trembling slightly—not from fear, but from the overwhelming weight of what was at stake.You can do this, he told himself, breathing deeply, steadying his hands.He approached Serena's operating table.She looked so fragile, lying there under the harsh surgical lights, her face pale and still, her breathing shallow and strained."You’re going to be okay, love," Joaquin whispered under his breath."I’ll bring you back. I promise."The nurses around him moved efficiently, handing him tools, monitoring Serena’s vitals.Joaquin gave quick, sharp instructions, falling into the rhythm of a surgeon—focused, precise, merciless against the enemy threatening his beloved.But the moment he made the first incision and peeled back the damaged tissue, his heart stopped.What he saw wasn't something any textbook had p

Joaquin stood at the edge of the massive forest, eyes fixed on the looming trees ahead.Just the sight of it sent an eerie sensation crawling down his spine—it had a presence. Heavy. Unnatural.Mist slithered across the forest floor like snakes in search of prey.The trees were impossibly tall, their bark a deep, lifeless gray. Their leaves didn’t even flutter despite the breeze.The stories were true—this place felt alive.He tightened his grip on his bag and stepped forward without hesitation.Inside, darkness swallowed him whole.Even though it was midday when he arrived at the Forbidden Grove, it felt as if the moment he entered, daylight was stripped away, replaced by a suffocating night.He pulled out his flashlight, its beam the only comfort in the growing blackness.No one had entered this forest in centuries.Not even the villagers who once worshipped the land dared to approach it anymore.Legends said the Grove was cursed—guarded by illusions, by spirits of the old blood, by