From Trash to Lord of Thunder: The Rise of the Cursed Extra-Chapter 52: The Group

The training floor still buzzed with the energy of the recent fight.

The smell of scorched wood and sweat hung in the air, and the Warriors gathered around the ring couldn’t tear their eyes off Charles, or rather Rian, as he stepped down with a satisfied grin.

His hands, reddened with small burns from the explosions, hung relaxed at his sides, as if the pain didn’t faze him.

The crowd murmured—some in awe, others in disbelief, a few with a hint of fear.

No one expected a newly minted Warrior to humiliate Varn, the cocky ponytail guy, like that.

Neymar, Joren, Soren, and Rowen rushed to Charles as soon as his feet hit the wooden floor.

Neymar spoke first, clapping him on the shoulder.

"That was insane, Rian!" he said, grinning wide. "You handed Varn’s ass to him! No one’s forgetting that."

Joren nodded eagerly.

"Yeah, man! That explosion at the start! How do you do that? Never seen fire like it!"

Rowen crossed his arms, grunting.

"Not bad," he said, eyeing Charles sideways. "But you trashed your hands. Don’t they hurt?"

Charles glanced at his hands, skin cracked and red.

The bandages that once covered them were now tattered scraps on the ring.

’Stings a bit,’ he thought, shrugging.

But he wasn’t about to admit it.

He’d learned to shrug off pain since waking in Rian’s body.

Plus, the system’s message, [Congratulations, you’ve leveled up], and hitting level 6 made any discomfort worth it.

"I’m fine," he said, a crooked smile forming. "I’ll hit the medical area later. No big deal."

The four exchanged looks, clearly shocked.

"Later...?" Neymar repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You really don’t care about your hands?"

Joren let out a nervous laugh.

"Man, you’re tough! I’d be sprinting for a healer with those burns."

’This guy’s nuts,’ Neymar thought, though he kept it to himself.

Charles’s nonchalance was almost unnerving.

But before they could press, a female voice cut in.

"Hey, Rian... nice fight," said a girl, approaching with confident steps.

Her black tunic had brown stripes at the hem, and her short green hair was tied back with a bandana.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked at Charles.

"Not everyone makes Varn eat dirt like that. Well done."

Charles blinked, thrown by the compliment.

He wasn’t used to strangers talking to him so casually.

"Uh... thanks," he said, scratching his neck.

The girl smiled, crossing her arms.

"I’m Kalia," she said. "My friends and I watched your match. We hunt beasts at night when they’re most active. Good rewards if you know where to look. Wanna join our group?"

Charles raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Beast hunting sounded useful—not just for leveling up his system, but for scouting the clan’s outskirts to plan his escape.

But before answering, he turned to Neymar and the others.

"You guys hunt at night?" he asked, tilting his head.

Neymar chuckled, and Joren shook his head.

"Nah, man," Neymar said, lowering his voice like he was spilling a secret. "At that hour, we’re... doing other stuff."

Charles frowned, curious.

"What stuff?" he asked, leaning closer.

Joren whispered, "Once you’re a Warrior, you get access to a bar in the clan. Better food than the cafeteria... and beer."

Charles’s eyes lit up.

’Beer?’ he thought, a wave of excitement hitting him.

Since waking in this world, he’d missed simple pleasures from his old life: a decent burger, a cold soda, and, above all, an icy beer.

The thought of kicking back at a bar with the guys, chatting and drinking, was almost too good to be true.

’Hold up,’ he thought, frowning.

Hunting with Kalia’s group could be a better long-term move—more experience, more system levels, and a shot at escaping the clan.

Beer sounded amazing, but he couldn’t pass up a chance to improve.

Though, damn, letting go of a cold beer stung.

With an exaggerated sigh, Charles turned to Neymar and the others.

"Guys, it pains me to say this, but I’m gonna take Kalia’s offer," he said, clutching his chest like it was life-or-death.

Neymar laughed, clapping his shoulder again.

"No worries, Rian," he said. "The bar’s not going anywhere. Join us another day."

Joren nodded.

"Yeah, but don’t cry when you’re wrestling a beast while we’re sipping beers."

Soren mumbled something inaudible but seemed to agree.

Rowen just grunted.

"Do what you want," he said, shrugging. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Charles turned to Kalia, who’d been waiting, arms crossed.

She looked a bit nervous, like she feared rejection.

But when Charles stepped closer and said, "Alright, I’m in with your group," her face lit up.

"Awesome!" Kalia exclaimed, grinning. "No backing out, got it? We meet at dusk by the clan entrance. Bring some gear—it won’t be easy."

Charles nodded but raised a hand.

"One thing," he said, more serious. "I can’t tonight. Got... a duel in the clan arena."

Kalia blinked, stunned.

"A duel?" she repeated, voice rising unintentionally. "In the clan arena? Tonight?"

Her words were like tossing a rock into a pond.

Warriors who’d resumed training froze, turning toward them.

"A duel in the arena?" a white-striped guy asked, stepping closer. "The new guy?"

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair.

’Oh... crap,’ he thought.

Too late.

The news spread like wildfire.

Resigned, he decided not to hide it.

"Yeah," he said, loud enough for all to hear. "I’m fighting tonight in the clan arena."

The silence lasted a split second before the place erupted in murmurs.

"A fresh Warrior in the arena!" a red-striped girl exclaimed. "Seriously?"

"That never happens," a blue-striped guy said. "Arena duels are for representing the clan. Those fights are against outsiders!"

"A new Warrior against an outsider..." a brown-striped guy muttered, skeptical. "Is that for real?"

Charles noticed some looked at him with doubt, others with intrigue.

A white-striped girl stepped up, crossing her arms.

"Heard a rumor about you, Rian," she said, curious. "They say you were gonna back out of that duel. True?"

Charles raised an eyebrow, surprised.

’Back out?’ he thought.

He had no clue where that rumor came from, but he didn’t like the sound of it.

"I’m not backing out," he said, voice firm. "And it’s not just one duel. I’m fighting two Master-ranks. Same day."

The training floor exploded into chaos.

Murmurs turned to shouts and gasps.

"Two Master-ranks?" a red-striped guy yelled. "That’s nuts!"

"He’s lost it!" a blue-striped girl said, laughing nervously. "How’s he gonna fight two Masters at once?"

"No way!" a brown-striped guy exclaimed. "Nobody does that! Not even Custodians!"

"Is this a joke?" a white-striped girl asked her friends. "Gotta be a joke, right?"

Charles blinked, floored by the reaction.

’Seriously?’ he thought, nearly laughing. ’They’re acting like kids over this?’

He hadn’t expected his comment to cause such a stir.

It was just a duel. Well, against two Masters, but still.

The way everyone was yelling and gawking, like he’d announced he was facing a dragon, was absurd.

Kalia, still beside him, stared wide-eyed.

"Two Master-ranks...?" she repeated softly. "Rian, you sure? Arena duels are no joke. There’s an outside audience, bets, the works. You’re representing the clan."

Charles shrugged, brushing it off.

"Yeah, I’m sure," he said. "No big deal. Just gotta win."

The white-striped girl who’d mentioned the rumor let out an incredulous laugh.

"No big deal, he says!" she exclaimed. "This guy’s unhinged!"

"That’s why he beat Varn," a blue-striped guy muttered. "He’s crazy, but he can fight."

"Or he’s all talk," a brown-striped guy grumbled. "Let’s see if he survives the Masters."

Charles was about to respond when a loud noise cut through.

BAM!

The double wooden doors of the training floor slammed open, making everyone turn.

Lira stormed in, her black tunic with blue trim billowing behind her.

Her face was stern, eyes locking onto Charles the moment she spotted him.

The vibe shifted instantly.

Several Warriors bowed their heads in respect, while others straightened, like they feared a scolding.

Charles, though, didn’t get why everyone was acting so formal.

’What’s up now?’ he thought, frowning.

Lira stopped a few steps from him, crossing her arms.

Her eyes flicked from his face to his hands, noting the burns and cracked skin.

For a moment, her expression softened, but it hardened again.

"Rian," she said, her tone more command than question. "What were you doing?"

Charles blinked, caught off guard by her tone.

"What?" he said, shrugging. "I was training and... had a little sparring match."

Lira glared at him.

"A little sparring," she repeated, sarcastic. "Look at your hands. What are you thinking?"

"I’m fine," Charles said, holding up his hands. "Just a scratch."

Lira’s lips tightened, clearly unconvinced.

"Come with me," she said, turning toward the door. "Now."

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Alright, alright," he said, glancing at Neymar and the others. "Catch you guys later."

Neymar gave him a supportive nod, while Joren whispered, "Good luck with her."

Soren just nodded, and Rowen stayed silent.

As Charles followed Lira to the door, the crowd started murmuring again.

"Why’s Lira here?" a red-striped girl asked quietly. "For Rian?"

"Gotta be the duel," a white-striped guy replied. "If it’s against Masters, she’s probably involved."

"Or she just came to chew him out," another girl said, laughing.