Drew Armstrong is still gloriously, infuriatingly Level 1-and the city just invited him to an open tournament built for spectacle. Nobles want clang. Sponsors want blood. Drew wants a clean seat and a signed receipt.

He enters with no blades, no ropes, no head hits... and starts winning anyway-on timing, angles, and a grip that turns monsters and showboats into polite furniture. When a champion in full plate steps into the ring, Drew does the unthinkable: unbuckles with consent on the rule board and helps the man sit with dignity. The crowd learns there are louder things than applause-like a room that breathes together.

While the side hustlers peddle "priority sightlines," the Guild of Bare Knuckles posts knee-height law, logs every moon on the Cup Rail, and teaches caravans how to keep bridges honest. By the time the drums die, contracts are falling like rain-and the road is calling.

You'll love this if you enjoy:

• Creative, technical fights (no gore, all craft)

• A working-class hero who refuses the easy win

• Found-family banter, tea diplomacy, and quiet triumphs

• World rules that actually matter-read before you pay

Chairs before blades. Roads next.

Grab Festival of Fists now-start reading today