The Martial Senior's breathing had stabilized.
She sat against the arena wall with her eyes closed, jaw tight, one hand pressed flat against her ribs. She had a few seconds of internal conflict and then quietly, without looking at him, thanked him.
Bankei smiled and said nothing.
He moved to the next one.
He had basically become an equivalent to a modern-day doctor. With decades of experience, being exposed to all kinds of wounds, his hands worked on instinct. He easily knew the most critical areas to focus. The natural regeneration of Martial Seniors were still above the normal human level's so most wounds were fixed. Still, Bankei had beads of sweat forming on his forehead, due to the constant use of his healing ki. The injuries coming off that arena floor were just that severe.
He glanced up.
Mangūsu hadn't moved from the balcony. Hadn't spoken in some time. He was staring at the Great Ape with stillness and he knew him well enough to know that he was trying to figure out something in his mind. Whatever he'd seen in that transformation, it had given him pause.
That was either very good or very bad.
The two other Masters were easier to read. Hiraku had his hands full with the structure, his blackened ki ran along the main pillars in steady reinforcing lines. The other one, Guzo, kept drifting toward the arena's edge, eyes on Merun, leaning forward. Absolutely raring to go and fight Merun. If not for Mangūsu's orders, he definitely would have jumped in long ago.
Bankei watched him for a moment then looked away.
In the upper tier, one spectator remained. An old man, seated calmly amid the emptied rows, hands folded, watching Merun with the mild interest. Everyone else had evacuated. He had not moved.
Bankei raised an eyebrow but quickly forgot about him.
His attention returned to the arena.
Merun's ki was enormous and still felt wrong in ways he still couldn't fully understand. It felt chaotic and foreign. Underneath buried so deep he had to focus to find it, was a string of familiar ki. If he didn't know him well, it would be much easier to think of this form being his true self.
He doesn't have control.
He'd known it from the moment the transformation completed. His eyes were not of a martial artist's, it was of a beast. His strikes were overwhelming but they lacked technique.
Where in god's name did Merun learn that transformation technique? Is it some kind of symbiote or forbidden technique he didn't know about?
What he did know was this wasn't part of the plan.
He couldn't tell if merun was conscious in there somewhere, fighting for the wheel.
Whether he was winning, Bankei couldn't tell.
Another Senior hit the ground nearby. Bankei was already moving before the body stopped sliding, crouching beside the man. His hands were seared as the Martial Seniors flaming body technique was still burning even when he was knocked out.
Still, Bankei persisted and stabilized him in a short time.
He was just a Martial Squire. The battle happening in the arena was operating on a level where his presence was irrelevant. He couldn't fight. Couldn't intervene. Couldn't do anything about what was happening to Merun.
He could only do this.
Stabilize the ones the Merun threw aside. Keep them breathing. Lessen whatever count of sin Merun would do in his blind rage.
Most would call him foolish and stubborn.
He sighed.
He knew Merun would be mad to know that he stayed... but he just couldn't find it in him to leave. It didn't feel right to leave Merun for dead. Also, something weird was happening and it was clear with how Mangūsu was acting.
There were so many questions.
Another Martial Senior was flung toward his way as he rushed to treat them.
His back was now fully drenched in sweat.
———
Merun was drowning.
The ki surge had been nothing like he'd imagined. It was a detonation of energy that he wasn't ready for. He wasn't used to controlling such a large amount of ki that he had basically drowned in it. Everything he'd spent months learning to control and refine, ripped out and replaced by something vast and ancient.
Merun was alone, deep under an ocean of red. He reached for control and saw nothing to grab and to hold on to. He tried to swim up to no avail. He was stuck. He was weak. He was helpless.
He had no idea what was happening outside.
Shit.
There was nothing.
I can't breathe.
It was all red. Nothing but red.
What have I done?
He had no control. He had no power.
Do I just leave it to chance, after all?
This was already part of the original plan, after all. Well, not part but he had expected this to happen. To let the beast take care of all of it, and somehow he'll live.
Because in truth, he was already gambling.
The Beggar Sage wouldn't let me die like this.
He knew the value of himself, an alien, with profound knowledge of another era and civilization. Someone who somehow knew of their secrets. Especially now that he's shown the full capabilities of his secret transformation.
There's a really high chance someone from the beggar sect watching his every move.
There's an even bigger chance the Beggar Sage would pull some strings to protect him when the time came.
In the end saving Bankei was the plan, right?
And since he was already gambling... why not gamble this time too? Just let the beast stall for enough time and hope that Bankei and the others could escape. Hopefully the beast can stall the Martial Seniors, right?
Who knows, maybe he's already taken care of the Martial Seniors and now is at a life-and-death awesome battle with the Martial Masters?
It's so easy!
All he had to do was wait!
Just let it go!
...
Right?
....
....
....
Hmm....
....
....
There was just one thing...
...
...
There was just this one thing stopping himself from letting go.
...
...
One thing that prevented him from having peace.
...
...
Something he discovered within himself.
...
...
Something he gave grave importance to.
...
...
It was his 'Martial Path'.
...
Overwhelming Suppression.
...
...
Even if his biology made it impossible... he would insist.
He'd died once already with no control over it. On a pavement, hands over his head, unable to do a single thing. Helpless. Pathetic. Gone before he even understood what was happening.
He swore he'd never feel that again.
And here he was.
Drowning. Weak. Vulnerable. Screaming into a deep dark red with nothing to grab or hold on to.
Overwhelming Suppression.
That was what his heart had chosen. Not because it sounded powerful. Because it was the only answer to the one thing he feared most—being at the mercy of something he couldn't control. If he could suppress the world, suppress his enemies, suppress anything that threatened the people he loved—
Then he could never be helpless again.
But suppressing the world started here.
With this.
It was his body.
His.
Act like it.
....
Boiling in anger, Merun opened his eyes and started swimming to the surface of the blood red sea.
A/N:
Still sick. Next chapter on Friday. Thanks for reading!