Fragment Awakening Complete.
BAAAAM—
A deafening blast tore through the arena, the sound cracking like thunder against stone walls.
The ground beneath my feet shuddered violently, sand erupting upward in a hot, stinging spray that scraped against my skin.
Energy detonated from body.
The fragment in my hand liquefied—
I felt it.
It shifted against my palm, warm and unstable, like holding something alive. It slid and twisted, reforming into..
a dagger.
Thin.
Sharp.
Wrong.
It pulsed—soft, rhythmic vibrations traveling from the hilt into my fingers, like a heartbeat that didn't belong to me.
Carlos was blasted backward, his boots dragging harshly through the sand with a rough scraping sound, grains scattering and ticking against stone.
Mana capacity has been increased by ten times.
My breath hitched.
My chest tightened as energy flooded in—too much.
My lungs burned.
"Why is the system being so generous all of a sudden?!" I coughed, my voice cracking, throat dry and raw.
Carlos staggered—
sand crunching under his weight—
then laughed.
Low and rough.
"It seems," he said, wiping blood from his lip with a wet smear, "the gods have chosen another tool."
"What is your problem?" I muttered, breath uneven.
My left arm—
It moved.
A faint tingling spread through it, like pins and needles waking from death. Muscles twitched, nerves sparking back to life.
Healed.
I just need to touch his forehead.
"You just need to touch my forehead!" Carlos shouted, his voice booming across the arena, arms spreading wide.
"I believe in you!"
His laugh echoed—too loud, too sharp.
"You can do it."
Something felt wrong.
The wind shifted, carrying the dry scent of sand and iron.
He wasn't afraid.
He was rooting for me.
A chill crawled down my spine, cold and slow, like something breathing against my neck.
I don't want to see it.
The memories.
They'll flood me again.
But I have to.
I sprinted.
My boots slammed against the sand—thud, thud, thud—each step sending vibrations up my legs. Air rushed past my ears in a sharp whistle.
Fire roared around the dagger, heat licking up my arm, the crackle loud and violent as I infused it with mana—
and hurled it.
It cut through the air with a shrill whistle—
Carlos caught it.
His fingers closed around the blade with a dull crunch.
Then—
CRACK
The dagger shattered.
Fragments fell like glass, tinkling faintly as they hit the ground.
"Seriously?" he sighed.
Before I could react—
he was in front of me.
His hand clamped around my left arm.
CRACK
A sickening snap rang out, sharp and wet.
Pain exploded through my body, white-hot and blinding. My breath hitched into a broken gasp as warmth sprayed across my chest.
My arm—
gone.
He held it.
I could hear it.
DRIP
DRIP
DRIP
blood hitting the sand.
"You call that an awakening?" he murmured, voice low, almost bored.
My vision blurred, edges darkening.
I stepped forward.
TAP.
My remaining hand pressed against his forehead
He blinked.
For the first time—
his smile faltered.
"You..." I coughed, the taste of iron flooding my mouth.
"You talk too much."
He looked down slowly.
His fingers still wrapped around my severed arm.
Blood slid between them, thick and dark.
And then—
Judgment Denied.
The words echoed coldly, cutting through everything.
You can only judge three candidates per twenty-four hours.
My heartbeat stopped.
Or maybe it just felt like it.
"No—this…" I gasped, stumbling back, boots dragging harshly through sand.
"Can't judge, huh?" he laughed, tossing my arm aside with a wet thud.
"Looks like the system forgot to tell you some rules."
"You can only judge three candidates per day."
His footsteps crunched closer.
"Unlike you… I don't need to judge."
A heavy thud echoed as something massive hit his shoulder.
"I can crush you with my own hands."
"Your arrogance…" I exhaled sharply, breath shaky.
"It's starting to piss me off."
I turned.
Ran.
Sand kicked up behind me, grains stinging my legs as I pushed forward.
"Oh, is that so?" he laughed, the sound chasing me.
"I'm done playing."
A deep metallic hum filled the air as he withdrew it—
a massive mace.
It cut through the air with a low, heavy whoooom, the pressure alone making my ears ring.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"A masterpiece indeed," I muttered, leaping back, breath ragged.
I forced mana into my body.
Warmth spread, sealing wounds, stopping the bleeding—slow, painful, like flesh stitching itself together under invisible hands.
The rest—
speed.
"Faster!" he bellowed.
The mace swung—
WHOOOSH—
I barely dodged, the air pressure slamming into my side.
Finally—
my left arm.
It twitched.
Then moved.
Fully restored.
I could feel it.
Every finger.
Every nerve.
I created daggers.
One after another—the faint hum of energy forming sharp edges in my hands.
"Come at me!" Carlos laughed.
I charged. Daggers flew, slicing through the air in rapid succession—sharp whistles filling the space.
He deflected them all. Effortlessly.
Except one. A faint slice across his face. A thin line of red.
I closed in.
BAAAM
The mace hit. A deep, crushing impact. My body folded around it.
For a second.
There was no pain. Just pressure.
Then—
everything.
Heat.
Tearing.
Something inside me ruptured.
My legs gave out.
Warmth spread too fast.
I looked down.
"…Ah."
My vision shook.
A wet sound escaped my throat.
My insides—
no...
The scream ripped out of me, raw and broken.
"You were…"
My voice failed.
Blood spilled from my lips, thick and choking.
"W-weaker than I expected…"
"What the hell are you talking abo—"
He stopped.
Silence.
Then—
a soft thud.
He dropped.
I exhaled shakily.
The faint smell of something bitter lingered in the air.
Poison.
The dagger.
The one that grazed him.
Just a scratch.
That's all it took.
It worked.
"Someone… help…" My voice came out as a whisper.
The world dimmed. Sounds faded. The crackle of distant fire.
Then—
nothing...
---
Day Two
"Hey—HEY! Wake up!"
A voice cut through the fog.
Loud.
Close.
My head throbbed.
"I've used all my mana savin' this kid. I need a result," Dan groaned, his voice rough and tired.
My eyes opened slowly.
A campfire crackled nearby, wood snapping and popping, sparks drifting upward into the dark.
The air smelled thick—
smoke.
Burnt meat.
Something… off.
The same woman sat beside the fire, calmly turning something over the flames. Fat sizzled loudly, dripping into the fire with sharp hisses.
"Is that—" I swallowed.
"Flesh," Dan said with a shrug.
"Ain't exactly groceries out here, kid."
The smell hit harder now.
Heavy.
Greasy.
Unsettling.
"You're lucky we saved ya," he added. "You looked useful."
My hand moved to my stomach.
Whole.
Still there.
"Well? I patched up your guts," Dan grinned. "Ain't I a great heala'?"
"S-sure… sure," I muttered.
"Here."
The woman handed me a bucket.
Cool metal pressed against my fingers.
"Water."
I drank.
It was cold.
"Thank… you."
"..."
Silence settled.
Only the fire crackled.
Then—
"Why…?" I asked quietly.
"Why did you save me?"
They exchanged glances.
The fire popped.
Someone shifted.
Then she spoke.
"You were the only one besides Carlos who awakened."
"We couldn't let that go to waste."
I turned slightly—
The pot.
Something floated inside.
A hand.
Skin pale.
Fingers curled.
"…Couldn't let that go to waste either," I muttered.
Dan burst out laughing.
Loud.
Unbothered.
"Hahaha! Now that's funny, kid!"
Then—
A voice.
Behind me.
"It was nice fighting with you."
Cold.
Familiar.
My blood ran cold.
I turned.
Carlos.