From the stands, Ko'oni watched.
Every blow Taurus landed echoed in her own body. She could see the strength draining from Cain.
"No… Please, no…" she whispered silently. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst from her chest and fall into the sand of the arena.
Cain was covered in blood. He staggered, weakened. And yet—he stood.
The air was thick. The roar of the crowd, the scent of iron, the heat of pre-death adrenaline.
Cain struggled to breathe. His shoulder burned from the torn wound left by Taurus's fist. Opposite him—stood the beast of Feralis himself: blood flowed down his carved-up body, but his eyes blazed. He was smiling.
Only the two of them remained.
The pride of Wigfuss against the blade of Osher.
"Not enough!" Taurus growled, spitting blood. His voice cut through the noise of the crowd. "Wigfuss said you were strong! Promised me a fight! But you swing like a shadow. Like a coward!"
Each of his strikes wasn't just an attack—it was a test of spirit. He watched Cain move: precise, calculated, but soulless. Like a puppet tugged by instinct.
"Stop hiding!" Taurus charged again, fists flashing with terrifying speed. "Show me your rage! Your strength! Fight me!"
Cain backed away, parried, retreated again. This beast felt unstoppable.
Taurus unleashed a barrage of blows.
"Fight me! Show me what Wigfuss saw in you!"
"Shut up!" Cain's voice cracked from the strain. He lunged forward, striking with his sword toward Taurus's head.
Taurus simply caught the blade between his palms—and in the next instant, kicked Cain in the chest. Cain had to release the sword to brace and soften the impact. He was thrown several meters, rolling across the sand.
"You speak now, white-hair," Taurus stalked toward him, unhurried.
"What do you want?" Cain rasped, forcing himself to his feet.
"For a warrior of Feralis, nothing beats a glorious battle! And I was promised one! But all I see is a wretch afraid of his own strength! Tell me, white-hair—WHO ARE YOU?!"
Cain stayed silent. He wanted to answer—but what could he say? He didn't know himself. Taurus resumed his assault, forcing Cain around the arena, each blow punctuated by a demand:
"Who are you?! Who are you?! WHO ARE YOU?!"
Cain snapped. Rage, despair, pain—all surged into one cry:
"I DON'T KNOW!!!"
The son of Feralis froze for a moment. He looked Cain up and down, and his face turned serious—almost disappointed.
"Then stop disgracing this arena with your weakness." He straightened. "Your body knows. Your blood remembers." He pounded his fists against his chest. "You are a WARRIOR. And a warrior fights! With all his honor. With all his strength."
The words struck harder than any blow. Something inside Cain—older than memory, deeper than pain—clicked.
"Don't be afraid," came a voice in Cain's head. That same voice he heard every night.
A war raged inside Cain: uncertainty, the broken slave, the will to survive—and something else. A power his body had long concealed.
"Let go," the voice whispered again.
Cain closed his eyes.
Taurus didn't attack. He watched. He knew—his opponent was preparing.
The arena screamed: "Kill! Kill! Kill!"
But Taurus wanted something else. He wanted a worthy foe.
Cain vanished from sight in a flash. Taurus barely tracked the blurred figure. The white-haired swordsman reappeared beside the bodies of fallen warriors.
In one motion, he drew a sword from a corpse's chest and picked up another from the ground. Straightened. And stared at Taurus.
His gaze had changed. It now burned with the thirst to kill.
Cain's aura had shifted. Taurus felt it.
"Finally…" he growled, cracking his neck.
In the next second, Cain lunged forward. The first strike aimed for the neck. Taurus dodged, but the next hit landed. One blow followed another, each laced with the pure intent to kill.
Cain's movements had transformed. He no longer retreated or dodged.
He attacked.
It was a deadly dance. Fluid. Unpredictable.
Dodges flowed into counters, blocks into thrusts. He moved as if he already knew where Taurus would strike, turning the giant's momentum against him. Taurus's fury now clashed against a wall of graceful, cold technique. And this wasn't even his full power—you could feel the real strength still buried deep inside.
Ko'oni held her breath. The fear didn't vanish—but awe crept in alongside it.
She had never seen anything like it. It wasn't just beautiful.
It was dangerously beautiful.
Wigfuss watched with burning eyes.
Luceler and Yuzuki followed the fight closely.
"He's changed," Yuzuki said quietly. "There's something in his movement… something strangely familiar. Like I've seen it before."
Osher allowed himself a small smile. At last. His gamble was paying off. This empty vessel wasn't so empty after all.
"He's winning," Osher said. "And it seems our dispute is nearly settled. The key to the Rebel's Cave will remain with me."
"You call that prison 'the Rebel's Cavern'?" Luceler asked coldly. "A rather loose retelling of history, even for you. The one once imprisoned there defied the Gods. That prison—it's not just a cavern. It's a place of power, sealed by blood and the Will of Order."
"His time has long passed," Osher replied, equally cold. "But what he may have left in his final sanctuary… that power is dangerous. The cavern lies on Memento's border. And only I, the Governor of Memory, can ensure the past remains the past. Or…"—he paused, eyes flashing—"ensure that power is used correctly. For the good of Order, of course."
Luceler and Yuzuki exchanged quick glances. Osher's ambition was obvious, even behind his mask. He didn't just want control over the cavern—he craved the power locked within.
"You're playing with fire, Osher," Yuzuki warned softly.
"Any power will obey the one wise enough to understand and wield it, Moon Priestess," Osher leaned back again, composed as ever. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to enjoy the finale. My challenger seems ready to end the show."
—
Down in the arena, Cain and Taurus fought on.
Cain moved as one with his blades. The clarity of battle drowned out pain and fatigue. He saw every intention of his opponent. He didn't know where this style came from—but he felt it.
It was right.
It was him.
A sword cut through the giant's side. Taurus roared—not in pain, but in respect.
"THAT'S IT!" he bellowed. "THIS—THIS IS A FIGHT!"
Cain didn't answer. He just raised his swords.
Leaped high and spun, both blades slicing like a razor tornado. Taurus had no choice but to defend, arms covered in steel bracers. But then, he grabbed Cain's spinning arms, halting the cyclone. And headbutted him.
Cain's forehead split open. Blood poured into his eyes. Taurus wound up again—but Cain used his grip as leverage and struck both knees into the giant's jaw. Blood gushed from Taurus's mouth, bones cracked. Cain kicked off his chest and tore free.
Taurus smiled through the blood. He was enjoying this. Pain only fueled him.
"You… why do you hold back such power?!" Taurus roared. His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging, muscles vibrating. "MORE! SHOW ME MORE!"
He lunged forward—faster than before. Cain leapt, but Taurus was already behind him.
Impact.
Cain managed to absorb part of the blow, but hit the ground hard, wind knocked from his lungs. He rose, breathing heavy.
Blood dripped from his head, his shoulder, his knuckles. The next clash would be the last.
He dropped one sword, holding the other in both hands, settling into a low stance, focusing.
Taurus stood tall across from him, breathing hard.
"One final strike?! AHAHAHA! LET'S DO IT!"
They both went still.
The Son of Feralis took his battle stance. They gathered their strength, ready to pour everything into one, final blow.
The air between them crackled with tension.
And then—they launched at each other.
Two silhouettes, flying toward impact.
The crowd roared.
Ko'oni shut her eyes, unable to watch. Osher leaned forward, a grin of anticipation on his lips. Wigfuss jumped to his feet.
The moment the blade and fist were about to collide—
THE ARENA EXPLODED.
A deafening blast shook the Colosseum to its core.
The ground crumbled beneath them.
Stone, metal, dust, blood—everything mixed into chaos.
Some in the crowd screamed. Some were silent. Some were crushed beneath falling debris.
Cain heard nothing.
He was falling.