A few hours had passed since the end of the last round. Elias sat cross-legged in his cell, shackles still on his ankles, meditating. His goal was the same as in the arena—to synchronize the wind and lightning sangras while maintaining full control over his body.
He fused the gentle breeze inside the room with the wind element, letting the crackling lightning sangra surge through him. His body overflowed with power, as if every fiber of his being was waiting to be unleashed. He could even feel the presence of every point in the room, almost like they had consciousness.
But suddenly, an overwhelming surge of sangra engulfed the space. Black, shadowy spots gathered and took the shape of a human figure.
Inside his mind, Elias found himself locked in a brutal struggle. He desperately fought not to lose control. The shadowy figure appeared behind him, whispering into his ear with a devilish, bone-chilling voice.
"Why are you still waiting here? You have enough strength to break this door with a single kick. Go… tear this place apart. Destroy the city... Kill them. Kill every single one of those who ever looked down on you."
'Shut up. I can't just kill people randomly,' Elias snapped back in his mind.
"Oh, come on. Don't be so boring. Death isn't a bad thing... Death is reality." The voice grew more sinister, closer.
'Damn it... Did you show up because I'm using both wind and lightning sangra? But neither of them are this... psychotic,' Elias thought.
"I'm not an element, brat. I'm not a technique either. I am a powerful soul, a death wraith born from the rage, hatred, and wrath buried deep within you."
The shadow stepped forward, unfolding two massive, pitch-black wings from its back.
"Remember, if you want to use my power without losing control... your body must be free of anger, hatred, and vengeance."
The creature grinned wickedly, revealing a hollow void where its mouth should have been.
Elias froze, his eyes wide in shock. But as he opened his eyes again, he was back in the cold, dark cell, sitting cross-legged on a rotting wooden plank. He let out a breath, stretched out his legs, and leaned back against the wall, raising his head toward the ceiling as he began planning for tomorrow's fight.
---
Meanwhile, in the luxurious bathhouse of the Fredross estate, Hedric sat soaking in the steaming water, his silver-white hair slicked back as he drifted into deep thought.
The door slid open behind him. Darwin, his butler, stood by with a towel in hand.
Without turning his head, Hedric asked lazily, "Has the girl woken up, Darwin?"
"She has, my lord," Darwin replied with a respectful bow. "But even with her mouth sealed, she keeps screaming."
"What else do you expect? Her mother's the strongest mage in the entire Elven Kingdom," Hedric muttered, rising from the water. He grabbed the towel from Darwin and wrapped it around his waist.
Drying his hair, he sighed. "I don't know what King Franklin was thinking… but this marriage will be a disaster."
"The people are already on the brink. Imagine what they'll say when the crown prince marries an elf. Families who've lost loved ones in the war might even revolt."
"And the elves? They won't sit still either. An elf princess marrying a human prince? Damn it. What the hell is that old man thinking..." Hedric clenched his fists in frustration.
Turning to Darwin, his expression softened. "Tell me, Darwin… If I were to die... would you... serve my son the same way?"
Darwin poured wine into Hedric's cup and answered calmly, "For someone afraid of death, those are heavy words, my lord."
"But... if you must know... until my last breath, I will serve the family that pulled me out of the gutter."
A rare, genuine smile touched Hedric's lips as he leaned back against the couch. "Thank you... Darwin."
---
Deep beneath the Monte Lute arena, inside a pitch-black dungeon, a hulking man sat chained. His golden hair was tied back in rough braids, his beard unevenly hacked with a blade. His upper body was bare, revealing a muscular frame as massive as a bear, while his lower half was clothed in leather trousers.
The door creaked open. Six guards entered, followed by two alchemists carrying potions, and lastly, a noblewoman dressed in elegant crimson robes—Queen Estella.
The man groggily lifted his head but was quickly forced to look forward as the guards pinned him down.
A middle-aged man with frizzy white hair and dark skin adjusted his gloves while looking the prisoner over. The young woman beside him had long, jet-black hair down to her spine, holding a flask of bubbling red liquid.
"We're ready to begin, Your Majesty," the man said.
"Proceed, Mr. Parker," the queen commanded.
'W-What the hell... why is the queen here? What are they going to do to me?!' the man panicked.
The guards forced his mouth open. Parker grabbed the potion from the young assistant and poured it down the man's throat, pinching his jaw until he swallowed.
Seconds later, the man began thrashing wildly, roaring, muscles bulging, veins turning bright crimson as he desperately tried to snap his chains.
"This is done, Your Majesty. By tomorrow's match, no one will be able to control him. He'll attack like a mindless beast," Parker explained.
Queen Estella smirked, covering her lips with her crimson glove. "Excellent. Tomorrow's fight will be... delightful."
'Let's see, little demon... Will you survive this monster too?' she thought.
---
A few hours later, the queen entered Elias's cell with only two guards. The guards tried to force Elias to kneel, but he instinctively bent one knee on his own, lowering his head respectfully.
With one hand behind his back and the other in front, Elias held the perfect posture of submission.
The queen eyed his flawless skin, whispering to herself, "Did Hedric raise you in a royal suite? Not a single scar on your body."
Sensing the faint sangra swirling around him, she chuckled. "Hmm... So you've grasped the basics of magic."
"Allow me to give you some advice, boy. If you want to live as a free noble... win the final match tomorrow."
With those words, Queen Estella left. As the door shut, Elias raised his head, staring at the iron bars.
'...What was that about?'
---
Meanwhile, the bloodied corpses from yesterday's fight were being dumped into a massive pit in front of the northern grandstand statue. Below, a hidden chamber opened.
Seven figures in red robes and horned masks stood in a circle. Chanting in a forgotten language, one bald man poured a bucket of blood over the pile of bodies.
The circle glowed crimson, forming the shape of a crescent moon at its center...
---
The next day, the scorching summer sun beat down on the arena. Despite the arena's wind crystal cooling system, the crowd still grumbled.
"Damn... Why is it this hot even on a mountain?"
"Thank the crystals, or we'd all be dead."
"Who cares about the heat? I bet that kid from yesterday's fight wins again."
"No way! No one's ever beaten Orcenis. Three-time champion, remember?"
A booming voice echoed through the arena, silencing the chatter.
"Welcome back, citizens of Gravmire and honored nobles! Today, in the grand final of Ludus Cruoris... on one side, representing House Fredross... Elias! On the other, representing House Silnea... Orcenis!"
The northern and southern gates opened.
From the north came a beast of a man, led by four guards struggling to restrain him. His upper body was covered in a leather harness; below, a metal battle kilt with leather trousers and sandals. A horned iron mask hid his face, with only his blood-red eyes visible.
Even the crowd went quiet for a moment. This... was no man. This was a monster.
As for Elias? No one even noticed when he stepped out from the other gate. Their eyes were glued to the giant.
The announcer's voice returned.
"The final has one rule... No mercy."
The barrier rose. The guards released Orcenis and fled. The chains snapped.
Orcenis roared, locked eyes with Elias, and charged.
With both fists clasped together, he swung at Elias's head.
Elias dodged back just in time. The ground shattered where the fists landed, sending marble shards flying like glass.
As Orcenis ripped his hand from the cracked floor, he hurled a chunk of marble at Elias. The boy dodged, but Orcenis was already charging again—wild, rabid, unstoppable.
Elias sidestepped, leaped onto Orcenis's back, then kicked off, sending the brute crashing face-first into the marble.
Watching from the royal box, Queen Estella grinned.
'Decodarv poison... It pushes the body's power, speed, and stamina beyond limits while driving the mind into a berserker frenzy. It's made from the "Hein" tree of the Demon Kingdom... Until he kills someone, Orcenis won't stop. Even if he regains consciousness, he'll drop dead immediately.'
'A perfect suicide soldier. If this works, we can create the strongest army on the continent... And if not... well, at least I won't have to pay Hedric 100,000 gold.'
Back on the battlefield, Elias danced around Orcenis's relentless attacks, landing blows where he could. But the brute didn't care. He wasn't fighting to win... he was fighting to kill.
'What's wrong with this guy?!' Elias cursed mentally.
Then, time slowed. His senses sharpened. His fist surged with sangra.
But before he could strike—AGONY. A sudden, crippling headache. Voices. Whispers. Shadows clawed at his mind.
Orcenis seized the opportunity, slamming his fist into Elias's gut.
Elias flew backward, coughing blood, struggling to stand. His body wouldn't obey. Not now. Not like this.
The monster grabbed him by the wrist, swung him left—SLAM. Right—SLAM.
Then hoisted him high—one hand on his head, the other gripping his leg—and smashed him into the ground.
Stomping. Again. And again. And again.
Ribs cracked. Blood gushed from his mouth.
Elias's mind spiraled. His hatred toward Hedric... his fury toward the crown... all of it made controlling his power even harder.
Orcenis grabbed him by the throat, squeezing, lifting him like a ragdoll. Elias thrashed, biting at the brute's hand.
Finally, with a howl of pain, Orcenis flung him aside.
Elias hit the ground hard, skidding several meters before coming to a stop.
'D-Damn it... What... what do I do...?'
Pain numbed. His body screamed. His vision flickered.
Then... something shifted.
His crimson eyes glowed. Two visions flashed in his mind.
In one... he was torn limb from limb by this monster.
In the other...
Elias smiled.
His eyes stared up toward the sky. His lips moved silently—as if whispering...
"Thank you..."