"A few minutes have passed, and it is time for the third and final phase: close combat!" the announcer's voice boomed across the arena. "Let us begin the first match. Charles versus Obi!"
Charles stepped onto the dirt of the arena. Across from him stood Obi, a boy dressed in the fine silks of the nobility, sneering in disgust.
"I was expecting a strong opponent, but they give me a simple villager?" Obi scoffed, crossing his arms. "This is an insult to me."
"I haven't even started insulting you yet," Charles replied, his voice eerily calm. "When you lose and leave this place, go cry to your family. I am staying right here."
"What did you say, peasant?!" Obi roared, his face turning red. "Begin! I will make you regret opening your mouth!"
Obi slammed his hands onto the ground. The earth rumbled, and sharp, jagged rocks ripped out of the dirt, launching themselves at Charles like cannonballs. Charles used his agility to dodge the initial barrage, but Obi smirked and clenched his fist. The rocks suddenly shattered mid-air, turning into a storm of sharp shrapnel that rushed at Charles from all sides.
"Yes! Suffer and scream, villager!" Obi laughed maniacally as the stone shards tore through Charles's clothes and sliced his skin. "I will make you taste true pain!"
"Pain?" Charles gritted his teeth, wiping a streak of blood from his cheek. "You call these little pricks pain? How brave of you."
"You call it a prick? Let's see how you handle this!" Obi yelled. The rocks grew larger, spinning faster and striking Charles hard in the right side of his stomach.
Charles staggered. His vision blurred, and the sounds of the cheering crowd faded into a ringing in his ears. Obi was laughing, but Charles couldn't hear him. As he bled into the dirt, a memory flashed in his mind. He saw the terrifying monster from the forest. He saw Dave throwing himself forward to save him. He realized that Dave couldn't save anyone else, and he couldn't even save Dave.
It's not your fault, Charles, Dave's voice echoed in his mind, clear and warm.
Suddenly, a massive burst of wind magic erupted from Charles's core. The sheer pressure of the gale pushed the dust and rocks away.
Obi took a step back, panic crossing his face. "What? My stones... I can't control them against this wind!"
"No. It is impossible for me to lose," Charles said, his voice echoing within the small tornado forming around him. He stood up, bleeding but smiling fiercely. "You are right about one thing; I will not lose. But you will learn to look down whenever you see a villager, because you were just defeated by one!"
Charles thrust his hands forward, releasing a devastating torrent of wind directly at Obi. The sheer force lifted the noble off his feet. Feeling his life genuinely threatened by the crushing gale, Obi threw his hands up.
"I surrender! I surrender!" he screamed.
Charles instantly stopped the wind. The dust settled, leaving Obi trembling on the ground. Charles turned his back on him and looked up at the commanders' balcony.
"Listen to me!" Charles shouted, his voice ringing with pure determination. "Indeed, I am a villager! But I thank you for giving me this chance to prove myself. If the heroes of this kingdom are like that person on the ground, I will be deeply disappointed. He came here with the toxic pride of his family name. But I... I came here by myself. My name is Charles Albert Mark! And that is the difference between us!"
Silence hung in the arena for a moment before the crowd erupted into wild cheers.
I smiled from the stands. "You bastard," I whispered to myself. "You actually did it."
Up on the balcony, Commander Mark of the Freedom Eagles nodded approvingly. "That boy speaks words bigger than his age. And yet, no one stops him, because he is right. True strength is speaking your truth and backing it up with action. He has the exact spirit required to face hardships. Treat his wounds at once!"
A few minutes later, in the recovery area, I walked up to Charles and punched him lightly on his uninjured shoulder.
"Hey! What are you doing?" Charles winced, though he was grinning. "I thought I would finally get some rest from your annoyance."
"Of course you won't rest from my annoyance, idiot," I laughed. "You think a small battle like that gets you out of dealing with me? But seriously... thank God you are safe."
"Yeah," Charles smiled softly. "I am."
The competition concluded, and the announcer read the final results. "Listen well, heroes! To those who were not nominated, train hard and return next year! As for the chosen... Charles Albert Mark! You are drafted into the Freedom Eagles!"
While the commanders, soldiers, and new heroes celebrated at the palace, I slipped away from the crowds. The noise of the festival faded as I wandered into an isolated courtyard.
In the center of the courtyard, embedded in a massive block of black stone and wrapped in thousands of heavy, glowing chains, was a sword.
"So, we finally meet in person," I said, stepping toward it. "You are the one who has been talking to me in my dreams."
The sword pulsed with a dark aura.
"If you are truly so strong," I mocked, crossing my arms, "why didn't you free yourself? Or are you just afraid?"
Suddenly, the power of the sword exploded. The sheer force of it washed over the capital, a suffocating pressure that every powerful being in the kingdom felt instantly.
"Afraid? Boy, do you know who I am?!" the ancient voice roared.
The glowing chains lashed out like vipers, wrapping around my wrist. The sky above me instantly blackened. Seven spectral gates materialized in the darkness above.
"The one talking to you can drown this world in darkness with his aura alone!"
One of the gates groaned open. Pure, consuming darkness poured out, swallowing the courtyard, the sky, and me in a matter of seconds.
When I opened my eyes, I was standing in an endless, black void. Heavy footsteps approached. A massive figure emerged from the shadows. He had towering, jagged horns, a monstrously huge body, and glowing, blood-red eyes.
"Now, boy. Who do you see me as now?" the entity growled, his voice shaking my very soul.
I didn't answer immediately. Not because I was paralyzed by fear, but because I was analyzing him.
"Are you afraid?" the entity mocked. "Strange. You were speaking so boldly just a moment ago. I am Nikerson. Lord of Eternal Destruction, Master of Endless Darkness, and the First Devil."
"A devil?" I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "You think calling yourself a devil scares me?"
Nikerson's red eyes narrowed. "Since long ago, there were two brothers. One possessed Light, the other Darkness. Light gave life, but Darkness did not merely kill; it prevented the world from overgrowing and consuming itself. But the people of Light did not accept the power of Darkness. A great war was fought between the brothers for control. Light won, and I was sealed within this sword."
"A wonderful bedtime story," I said sarcastically. "What does it have to do with me?"
"Listen to me, boy. I am your fate, whether you like it or not."
"Impossible," I snapped, my eyes darkening with the memory of my past life. "You cannot be my fate. If I let you dictate my path, my end will be exactly like my first life. I will end up back in the fire. I will not allow that."
"That is your choice," Nikerson rumbled, stepping closer. "As I said, I am your fate. But how you use me will be your decision. Fate is a river that will inevitably flow through your life. Will you drift with the current and say 'this is the decision of the world'? Or will you swim against it? The choice is yours. Give me a vessel to act, and I will give you my power."
"Without strings attached?" I asked skeptically.
"Hahaha! Do whatever you want, little one."
I stared at the demonic entity. I needed power. Without it, I was just a victim waiting to be slaughtered by masked men and stray monsters.
"Then I agree," I said coldly.
"Hahaha! Boy, do not regret this!" Nikerson's laughter echoed like thunder. "For the path you will walk from today onward... is the path of Hell!"
The void vanished. The darkness shattered.
I gasped, finding myself back in the courtyard. My hand was wrapped tightly around the hilt of the black sword. I had pulled it out of the stone.
Before I could even turn around, I was hit by a massive force. Several armored guards tackled me, pinning me violently to the ground. They twisted my arms behind my back and kicked the black sword away from my reach.
"Take that boy down! Secure the weapon!" a guard yelled.
"Andrei!" Charles's voice broke through the chaos. He ran into the courtyard, his eyes wide with panic. "What are you doing to him?! Andrei!"
"Boy, step away! He might be dangerous!" a knight warned Charles.
"Let him go!" Charles yelled, stepping forward with wind swirling around his fists.
"Wait!" A commanding voice cut through the tension. Commander Mark of the Freedom Eagles stepped into the courtyard, his eyes locked on the black sword on the ground, then on Charles.
"Charles," Mark said sternly. "As the leader of the Freedom Eagles, I order you to step away from him right now. Do you understand what I am saying?"
Charles froze. He looked at me, pinned to the dirt, and then at his new commander. Slowly, painfully, Charles clenched his fists and lowered his head.
"Your order... Commander," Charles whispered.
Miles away, deep in the chilling castle of the Lord of Death, the ground finally stopped shaking.
"It seems Nikerson has found a host," the Lord of Death mused from his throne, a terrifying smile gracing his lips. "So, our ancient battle will continue after all. Good."
He turned his bottomless gaze toward the pit of rotting corpses.
"Maurice."
"Yes, my lord!" Maurice screamed from the depths of the pit, bound by burning chains. "Please, release me!"
"I want you to find that boy. Watch him for now, until I tell you what to do. Arus, close the gate."
Instantly, the burning chains around Maurice uncoiled. He scrambled out of the pit, gasping for air, trembling violently as he fell to his knees and bowed.
"As you command, my lord!" Maurice panted.
"Remember this, Maurice," the Lord of Death whispered, his voice freezing the blood in Maurice's veins. "There is no place on earth I cannot reach. Do not fail your task. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lord!"
When Maurice finally stumbled out of the castle and into the dark forest, he collapsed against a tree, gasping for air as if he had just miraculously survived a stroll along the very edge of Hell.