The sand shifted beneath my feet.
Step.
Shing.
My sword cut a clean line through the air. Crimson mana was wrapped around the blade like a living flame.
Even now, seeing it still felt unreal.
The fourth stage.
I had reached it.
After reaching the third stage and adjusting to the new mana, I felt as if I had hit a wall.
My mana control was good—almost perfect. I could maintain the lines and direct bursts however I wanted.
The way to reach the fourth stage was described vaguely.
It was said that I would reach it when the time was right.
There was no proper method.
So with no clear path forward, I just focused on my swordsmanship.
I repeated the same movements.
Again.
And again.
But something inside me remained restless.
Waiting felt wrong.
I wanted to move forward.
Faster.
But I couldn't.
And now—
Shing.
I swung again.
Crimson flared.
The air parted, brushing against my skin as the blade passed.
I had reached it.
And the difference was enormous.
It truly felt like two different worlds.
A normal sword—
And one wrapped in mana.
But there was one simple word to describe it.
Strong.
Strong enough to cut a drake.
The memory returned on its own.
Running forward.
Without thought.
Without hesitation.
With Lisa at my back, it felt like nothing could stop me. Not even the drake standing before me.
I remembered the tremble in my hand as I brought the blade down.
That feeling.
The pressure rising from my core, crawling up my arm.
Like how the earth trembles before a volcano erupts.
I looked down at the faint red glow around the sword.
A volcano.
Yes.
You could call it that.
But—
Haah.
My breathing turned uneven.
Haah.
I let the glow fade.
The technique required too much focus. Using it once wasn't difficult—but sustaining it drained me faster than I thought.
And even though it was strong—
It felt inefficient.
As if I were using it wrongly.
Too much mana was wasted.
My gaze drifted down to my sword.
But—
It was something new.
I liked it.
A new technique I could focus on.
A new goal for my training.
Thud.
I drove the sword into the sand and leaned forward, both hands resting on the pommel.
Slowly, my breathing calmed.
While resting like that, I lifted my head.
The arena was empty.
It should have been around midday, but I was alone—aside from the guards standing at the entrances.
I closed my eyes.
And an image appeared.
Bodies scattered across the ground. Limbs twisted unnaturally. Blood pooled where they fell.
Some crushed beneath the drake's weight. Others ripped apart.
And in the center—
Was the drake.
One foreleg severed, lying several meters away, blood soaking into the sand. A part of its tail lay on the opposite side, cut cleanly off.
Its body was covered with wounds.
Deep gashes across its head and torso, blood flowed without pause. Its long, thick neck rested on the ground, too heavy to lift.
The drake's eyes were dull.
At its throat was the deepest wound.
Scales and flesh were split open, almost severed completely. The head barely remained attached.
Everything around it was crimson.
The fight had been brutal.
But I had survived.
The sword had already slipped out of my hand, and I barely remained standing.
My breathing was ragged and uneven.
And then—
I heard them again.
The crowd.
Their cheers crashed over me, loud enough to make my ears ring.
"SURVIVOR!"
"SURVIVOR!"
Their voices merged into one, echoing across the arena.
"SURVIVOR."
I opened my eyes.
Only for an empty arena to greet me.
Survivor.
That was what they called me.
And they were right.
I was the only one left.
Again.
My group was gone.
Rash was gone.
My hands began to tremble again.
But I forced them still.
I wouldn't fall apart.
Not now.
Not after everything I went through.
I pulled the sword out of the sand.
Raised it.
And—
Shing.
Swung.
My body needed to move.
***
All humans are liars.
They deceive.
They hide.
They obscure what should not be seen.
But—
Not all lies are meant to hurt.
Some are meant to protect.
And the lie told most often—
Is the one spoken to oneself.
They make the weight bearable.
They make the pain lighter.
Lies give comfort.
Especially when told in one's own voice.
But when the world strips everything away—
When there is nothing left to cling to.
When masks fall.
When lies crumble.
And only the truth remains.
The truth will hurt.
Because if it did not—
There would be no need for lies at all.
***
There had been no beginning.
No warning.
Just—
Movement.
We lunged at the same time, swords stabbing forward, bodies closing the distance in a heartbeat.
This moment.
This exact moment.
I knew it.
My hands moved at once.
I twisted my wrist.
And—
My sword slid away from Rash's chest.
Swoosh.
Barely missing him.
The one thing I could never do, no matter how much I tried.
I did it effortlessly.
As if it were the easiest thing in the world.
I didn't kill him.
His sword had shifted, too.
It passed my ribs without piercing me.
Joy crashed into me so hard that it stole my breath.
I looked up toward his face.
He smiled.
That same bright smile he always had was plastered across his lips.
For a fraction of a second—
There was hope.
My heart raced.
"Rash—!"
But—
Slrrsh.
Pain tore through me before I could finish my sentence.
His blade cut, ripping through my side, deep and precise.
My body convulsed violently as air burst from my lungs.
I gasped.
My hands shook uncontrollably.
Blood ran hot down my stomach.
My legs gave in.
I fell.
And—
Darkness.
There was no blood.
No pain.
No sword slashing my stomach.
Only utter darkness.
It was silent.
Not the peaceful kind.
Just—
Nothing.
I tried to scream.
There was no mouth to make any sound.
I tried to move.
There was no body.
...
This is death.
This is what comes after.
Only that—
There is no after.
Fear was my only companion in this darkness.
Then—
The arena snapped back into existence again.
Rash stood opposite me with that same bright smile.
We moved.
Our swords already stabbing forward.
I twisted my blade away, and he his.
Hope flared.
But—
Shuk.
Rash's sword buried itself in my chest a breath later.
"Aghhh!"
The scream tore out of me, raw and broken.
My heart raced, panic overwhelming everything as blood filled my mouth.
Slrrt.
He pulled the blade out.
I fell.
And—
Darkness.
Cold.
It was cold.
I couldn't tell where I ended.
I couldn't tell where I began.
I couldn't tell if I even existed.
Was this what death felt like?
Would I spend the rest of my time here?
My mind fractured under the weight of it all.
Snap.
The light of the arena blinded me.
And it began again.
Rash.
Our swords.
I twisted my sword aside.
And—
Slrrsh.
Darkness.
Snap.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each time—
I shifted my sword.
Each time—
Rash killed me anyway.
Sometimes through the throat.
Sometimes through the heart.
Sometimes a clean cut.
Sometimes a cruel stab.
Every death hurt.
Every death terrified me more.
My hands shook violently.
My breath came in broken sobs.
My knees trembled so badly I almost collapsed before our swords even met.
"Please—"
I begged once, my voice breaking.
Rash didn't answer.
He only smiled.
And—
Slrrsh.
Darkness.
Then—
Between one death and the other.
Something changed.
He spoke.
His voice was cold, but his smile was warm.
"Is this all?"
Slrrsh.
Darkness.
"Scared?"
Shuk.
Darkness.
"Still afraid?"
Slrrsh.
Darkness.
"How many times does it take?"
Shuk.
Darkness.
Each death erased something else from me.
My mind fractured further.
The darkness felt closer each time.
Heavier.
Thicker.
When the arena returned again, my sword trembled so violently that I could barely hold it.
My heart raced, slamming painfully against my ribs as if it wanted to escape.
I couldn't breathe properly.
My vision blurred with tears.
Our swords lunged forward.
Just like the last time.
Only that.
This time—
I didn't shift my blade away.
I drove it forward.
Straight into his chest.
Shuk.
The blade pierced him.
Blood spilled over my hands.
It was warm.
My fingers locked around the hilt, not letting go of it.
Rash looked down at the wound.
Then at me.
The smile was gone.
And—
Crack.
Darkness erupted.
Taking over what was once an arena.
Everything vanished, leaving only me behind in this utter darkness.
Alone.
Again.
Then came the screams.
I didn't scream.
But they carried my voice.
"You killed him."
The darkness surged upward.
"Murderer."
With each scream.
"You did it."
It swallowed me further.
"You killed your friend."
My legs.
"Was it worth it?"
My waist.
"Do you feel better now?"
My stomach.
"Everyone dies around you."
My arms.
"You ruin everything."
My chest.
"Monster."
The darkness—
It pressed against me, crushing me.
I clawed at my throat, trying to keep the darkness away.
I choked and gasped, even though there was no air to breathe.
My heart pounded violently.
Then—
A voice cut through it all.
Low.
Empty.
It was Rash's.
"Why did you kill me?"
There was no anger.
It was—
Just a question.
The darkness reached my face.
My vision shrank.
Panic exploded inside me.
Rash's voice turned louder, screaming.
"Why?"
"Why did you do it?"
"Why!"
"WHY?!"
"WHY ARE YOU ALIVE?!"
"FOR WHAT?!"
The darkness engulfed my whole body as if devouring me.
It felt like I was swallowed by something cold but hot at the same time.
Pressure fell on my body like an invisible weight.
My bones felt like they were snapping.
I felt crushed.
My mind fractured further, breaking with each second a little more.
Then—
I opened my mouth to scream.
To answer.
But—
No sound left me.
The darkness was thick around my mouth, not allowing me to speak.
I tried again.
And again.
Nothing.
Only when all strength left me did the darkness recede, allowing me to speak.
"I—"
The words were stuck in my throat.
"I...am scared."
The darkness trembled as if nudging me to continue.
"...I am scared of dying."
My chest felt crushed.
"I am scared of...being nothing."
My breath came in violent sobs.
"...I don't want to disappear."
My body shook, and the darkness shook with it.
"I don't want to stop...existing."
"I don't know what comes after death."
"I don't want there to be.. nothing."
Tears streamed down my face.
"I want to...live."
My voice cracked completely.
"I.. don't want.. to die...again."
"..I don't...want to..die."
With everything left inside me—
"I WANT TO BE ALIVE!"
I screamed.
Silence.
Then—
Crack.
A fracture split the darkness.
Light seeped through.
Crack.
Another.
Crack.
More.
Like a spiderweb, cracks formed.
And—
CRACK.
The darkness shattered like glass.
The first thing I heard was a voice.
"29!"
Next came a touch.
Grip.
Hands grabbed my shoulders.
"Ghaa!"
I gasped violently, sucking air into my lungs.
It was cold, and my body was drenched in sweat.
My heart raced so fast it hurt.
I blinked, and my vision cleared again.
A guard loomed over me, shaking my shoulder.
"Get up."