Avatar of the Frozen Behemoth: Volume 1

Chapter 3: The Tournament

Yukio watched as the boy he had spared disappeared into the bustling streets below, the rooftops growing quieter with each passing second.

His chest still heaved with exertion, the adrenaline of the chase not yet worn off. But as he descended back to the ground, the familiar sounds of an argument cut through the cold air like a knife, pulling his attention. The scene that awaited him at the foot of the building made his blood run cold.

The old man was in a frenzy, his voice ragged with fury. His hand came down again, striking the boy who lay crumpled on the cobblestone, clutching his side where he'd fallen earlier.

"You miserable little thief!" the man bellowed, his face contorted with a madness that made Yukio's stomach turn.

"How dare you steal from me! Do you know how hard I've worked? You worthless-"

Without thinking, Yukio rushed forward, his boots hitting the cobblestones with a soft thud. "Stop!" he shouted, his voice sharp and commanding, cutting through the air like a blade.

He grabbed the old man's arm mid-swing, feeling the wiry strength in the elder's grip.

"That's enough!" Yukio's voice was breathless, but firm. "Beating him won't solve anything!"

The old man wheeled around, his eyes wild with fury, his chest heaving from the exertion. For a moment, he looked as though he might strike Yukio too.

His face was red with rage, his voice cracking with frustration. "He deserves it! Stealing from me, a sick old man trying to take care of his wife! Do you think he deserves to just get away with that?"

Yukio's grip tightened on the elder's arm, his own emotions boiling to the surface. He was just a teenager-he wasn't sure how to handle this. His breath was quick, his heart thudding in his chest, but he held his ground. What would my mom say if she saw this?

The thought of Calista, his mother, flashed in his mind, her voice reminding him to stay calm, to think things through. I have to make him stop.

But how?

Yukio looked down at the boy on the ground, his face twisted in pain, trying to shield himself from the old man's blows.

There was fear in his eyes-fear and shame. The sight of it made Yukio's chest tighten. He's already scared enough.

He turned his gaze back to the old man, softer now, but still determined.

"I found the money," Yukio said, pulling the coins from his cloak and holding them out. "It's all here. Please... just stop. Beating him won't fix anything."

The old man's breath hitched, his wild expression shifting to one of surprise. He stared at the money for a moment, his hand trembling as he reached for it.

His face crumpled with emotion, his anger fading just a bit. "You found it?" he whispered, his voice thick with disbelief.

Yukio nodded, releasing the man's arm as he handed over the money. "Yes. But please... don't hurt him anymore. He's already been through enough."

The old man's hand shook as he took the money, his anger still simmering beneath the surface, but now mingled with exhaustion and grief.