Aiden ran with the urgency that he felt was necessary. The [Sage] had gotten in his way, stopped him from going to Valdan as quickly as he’d wanted. While it annoyed him, he knew very well that the [Sage] had not truly tried to stop him from going to Valdan. The old man had merely been interested in testing him.

  It was the way with the powerful. They had no interest in the weak, only in themselves. Aiden had been stopped simply because the [Sage] wanted answers and had been too self-centered to care about anything else Aiden found important.

  Aiden burst through a steel door as he ran, his surroundings blurring around him. He shoved the door with his shoulder, following the whisp of air from the skill [Pathfinder] that guided him to the arena, to Valdan.

  Don’t die on me, Knight, he thought as he ran.

  He took a turn, then another. He burst through another door and came upon an empty space. He knew what it was. A waiting area. Those who would test their mettle within the arena would sit here and wait until it was their turn to walk in.

  Weapons, Aiden thought, coming to a stop. I need weapons.

  All he had to arm himself were the enchantments in his mind and pieces of a broken vase he’d claimed in his fight with the [Sage].

  Looking from side to side, he found the space bereft of any weapon. If there had ever been any weapons within the room, they were long gone. They were all long gone.

  Fuck. Aiden resumed his sprint, making his way towards a walkway that would lead to the heart of the arena.

  As he ran, something caught his attention. It was a simple flicker in the blurred passing of everything. Aiden pulled to a halt as it whizzed past his periphery and turned to it.

  A frown touched his lips but there was little else he could do. He moved to what had caught his attention and picked it up. A scabbard. A sword had been unsheathed, and its owner had discarded the scabbard as if it was unimportant.

  Aiden knew what Valdan’s scabbard looked like and knew that this was not his own. It told him that Valdan was at least fighting against his fellow human beings. It was a good thing. It meant that the techniques Aiden had taught him stood a chance of coming in handy.

  Picking up the scabbard, Aiden swung it around a few times. It would serve as a makeshift sword. It was not strong enough to withstand a few blows from a sword, but that was something that he could deal with.

  Studying the scabbard, however, told Aiden something else. The scabbard was expensive, which meant that the sword it had sheathed was most likely as expensive, crafted beautifully. Whoever Valdan was facing fought with a good sword.

  A large sword.

  Aiden knew the scabbard of a claymore when he saw one.

  Turning his head to the entrance into the arena, Aiden resumed his hurried sprint. Valdan was either alive with death around him or death had claimed him. But as much as the idea of a dead Valdan displeased Aiden, what was more terrifying was the fact that Aiden did not know what he would do if Valdan was dead.

  He shook his head as the entrance came clearly into view, discarding the worrying thought. Eyes focusing on what was happening within the arena, a cold chill ran up Aiden’s spine as he stared at what was happening.

  He watched Valdan tip forward like a felled tree and hit the ground without any reaction. People raised their hands instinctively or tried to break their fall when they fell. Valdan did not. He hit the ground, and his eyes closed slowly. It was how the unconscious fell.

  It was also how the dead fell.

  No, no, no, no. Aiden ran faster, ran harder.

  A man stood above Valdan. He raised a claymore above him, its tip pointing down, aimed precisely for Valdan’s neck. He was going to make sure his enemy was dead.

  Aiden could not allow it. He pulled the two pieces of broken vase left in his care, a plan already forming in his mind. Trapping the scabbard between his cheek and shoulder, he scribbled an enchantment on each shard of the broken vase.

  Then he scribbled an identical enchantment on one of the pieces on his red hand.

  His interface was a grand companion to his actions.

  [You have used class skill Unarmed Engrave]

  Aiden did not wait to get to the entrance. From where he currently was, he could throw a piece of broken vase with enough accuracy to hit a man as large as Valdan’s opponent.

  And he did.

  He activated only one of the two enchantments as both shards flew through the air, their sharp edges cutting through it to grant them speed.

  When they struck Valdan’s opponent, Aiden’s interface came alive once more.

  [You have used Enchantment of Lesser Force]

  One of the shards exploded on impact as Aiden drew an enchantment on the scabbard in his possession.

  [You have used class skill Unarmed Engrave]

  …

  [You have cast Enchantment of Lesser Endurance]

  …

  [Dimensional Mana detected]

  …

  [Enchantment of Lesser Endurance is now Enchantment of Lesser Void Endurance]

  Aiden ignored the notification as the force of the explosion from the force enchantment sent the man standing over Valdan flying away from Valdan, and a momentary peace settled in Aiden’s heart so that when he got to the arena, he came to a stop with less worry in his heart.

  What he was met with, however, was not a pleasing sight.

  As Aiden had expected even if he had hoped against it, the arena was covered in corpses. He glanced about, taking them all in. The owners of the bodies had not died easily. They had not died simply.

  They had put up a fight, of that Aiden was certain. But their opponent had been stronger. With the way the corpses littered the arena in different places, it was clear that the fight had spanned the entire space. They had had their opponent on the run for a while.

  Aiden’s eyes moved some more.

  They definitely gave him a run for his money.

  But they had all fallen one after the other.

  Aiden saw no blood, but it did not surprise him. He knew of the black sand of the theater. He also knew what had happened to turn it black. Unlike Brandis, Aiden also knew why exactly it had ended up being black.

  But that was not important right now. What was important right now was Valdan. Aiden’s eyes moved past Elaswit. For a moment his mind wanted to ask why she was in the arena with him. Was she a friend? Was she a foe?

  It ended up being unimportant. All he saw was that she was unarmed, and if there was anything he was certain of it was the fact that there was nobody present in the arena that could beat him in unarmed combat. It was not arrogance. It was simply a fact of life.

  Elaswit was not a threat.

  When his eyes settled on Valdan, however, the slight sense of peace that had touched him when he’d sent Valdan’s opponent flying disappeared.

  Valdan was battered and bruised, and even that was an understatement. Lying unconscious, Valdan had two swollen eyes. He had small cuts all over his body. His clothes were a bloody mess, the only things that kept his blood.

  Aiden felt his lips twist in a scowl. He did his best to hold himself back. His eyes surveyed Valdan’s body, paid attention to it as he would a teammate on any battlefield. With detached precision. His emotions could not cloud his judgement. Aiden could not allow it.

  Valdan had an injury on his neck that was bleeding. Judging from how slowly the blood was flowing, Valdan was either already dead or his blood was clotting already, stemming its own flow. Sadly, there was not enough information to determine what exactly was happening.

  Aiden judged with all the medical expertise he had gathered since leaving the palace and joining the Order because the palace had taught him nothing of medicine. They’d had people with the [Healer] class and maybe the king had felt that teaching them anything medical would be a waste of their time since one of the summoned had the [Healer] class and they had two people with the [Alchemy] class who could deal with the brewing of potions.

  Aiden’s attention studied Valdan in the time it would take a person to blink twice. He was proud of himself. Despite his anger, he had accomplished the task with a detached precision. Valdan would live as long as—

  His eyes settled on the blood spilling from Valdan’s side like a broken tap. The ground swallowed the blood as quickly as the blood touched it, draining Valdan of his life force.

  Aiden paled as a terrifying truth settled on him.

  Sir Valdan Dirtwater would not survive.

  Everything changed with the simple realization. Rage consumed him and Aiden’s vision turned a deep red. Valdan was now another name on a short list of people Aiden had failed to save on Nastild. But while he was the last on the list, Aiden had gotten a chance at a do-over. Everyone he’d failed to save was now alive. He had a chance to save them once more.

  He had truly believed that this life would be different, that he would find success, that he would save them all…

  Until now.

  Aiden’s eyes left Valdan’s body and focused on the man in the distance, resting against the wall that he’d been thrown into.

  Aiden had lived a life filled with enough experiences to know that life was simple. There were things that you could do and things that you could not do. Sometimes you couldn’t stop things from happening. They happened and all you could do was whatever it was that you could do about them.

  When you lost a friend that you couldn’t save, you grieved and moved on with life.

  Life was that simple.

  But when you were in the Order, raised on a path Aiden had been raised upon, things happened differently. If you can’t save your friend, the least you can do is avenge them.

  Aiden raised his hand—now all red where it had once been black—and activated the enchantment he’d drawn on it.

  [You have activated Enchantment of Lesser Magnetism]

  He felt the pull of the person’s weight and steadied his feet beneath him. Even in his rage, Aiden was not blind, his mind was not warped. At least not in the ways that mattered.

  The force of the pull on Aiden stopped and the person came flying through the air. To his surprise, Aiden caught the man by the neck easily and brought the man down to his knees.

  Recognition touched Aiden’s eyes as he looked at the man. He knew the man’s face. He also knew another face that looked like the man’s face. Lord Naranoff came to mind. Then Derendoff, the knight that had tried to kill him in Brandis’ chamber came to mind.

  You couldn’t kill me, so you killed him.

  Aiden leaned forward, knowing very well what was about to happen. The man’s eyes met his and recognition came alive in them.

  Aiden looked into Derendoff’s eyes and told him exactly what was about to happen.

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

  Derendoff looked up at him in fear. Then his recognition deepened. His fear turned to anger then rage. Aiden’s rage met Derendoff’s rage and did not pale.

  Derendoff scowled at him. “I cannot be killed by a monster like you.”

  Derendoff’s hand moved with his words and his claymore cut through the air. Its edge was aimed at Aiden’s arm.

  Aiden released Derendoff immediately, pulling his arm back. Derendoff’s blade missed him, cutting through the air between them, and Aiden kicked him in the chest. The force of the blow sent Derendoff rolling.

  Then the former knight came back to his feet.

  “A cur like you,” Derendoff said, smirking. “I don’t know how you did what you just did, but today I get two for the price of one.” He held his sword out in front of him. “This is what you call the world working in your favor.”

  Aiden listened to nothing Derendoff had said. His vision was focused, exceedingly so. All he could see was Derendoff standing in front of him. A man doomed to no other fate than death.

  Derendoff surged forward, sword swinging. Aiden swung the scabbard in his hand to meet the blow. The scabbard glistened a deep black with a blue hue. When it met Derendoff’s blade, sparks of yellow mana scattered about.

  Derendoff scowled at the impact but swung again. He struck for Aiden’s shoulder and Aiden met the sword with a raised scabbard. He did not parry, choosing to block instead. The impact of the blow moved him to the side by a single step.

  His strength stat is higher than mine, Aiden noted.

  Derendoff struck again and Aiden ducked under the blade, weaving his way around Derendoff. Derendoff didn’t let him. The former knight turned as he moved, swinging down to cleave him in two. Aiden rolled around him and the sword struck the sand. Derendoff swung it through the sand, raising an arc of dust.

  Aiden ignored the tactic, stepping into the raised dust. He swung his scabbard at Derendoff’s head as he did, going on the offensive, and Derendoff parried easily.

  “You’re weak!” Derendoff spat.

  Aiden ignored him and swung again, aiming for his chest. Derendoff’s hand shot out and he grabbed the scabbard. A cocky smile stained his lips.

  Aiden pulled himself forward so that he stepped into Derendoff’s personal space and slapped him. As intended, it wiped the cocky smile clean off the man’s face. Derendoff staggered from the slap, releasing the scabbard.

  Annoyance crossed Aiden’s face. It mixed with his anger. In the distance he heard his name but ignored it. If it wasn’t Valdan’s voice, it didn’t matter.

  Aiden approached Derendoff, defending the first sword strike that came from the former knight with the scabbard. Again, sparks of black mana tinged with hues of blue were sent flying. Derendoff was not dissuaded. In his own anger, he switched through a flurry of stances. He moved, feet carrying him, drawing a pattern on the ground as he did.

  Derendoff moved through sword strikes. A swing from the right, one from beneath. A twirl then a diagonal downward slash. He was true to the royal combat sword stances. There were no unnecessary flourishes, no flair.

  He was devoted, determined. The instructor in Aiden would’ve commended his determination and devotion if he was present. But the instructor was not present, only the executioner.

  Aiden deflected each and every sword strike. Endowed with the [Enchantment of Endurance], the scabbard was lasting longer than it had any right to against a claymore.

  Aiden parried the last strike and stepped forward. The single inward step threw off Derendoff’s rhythm and the former knight was forced to readjust. He switched through steps seamlessly, showing a mastery of the sword stances that—Aiden hated to admit—was better than Valdan’s.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The thought made Aiden frown and he swung his scabbard. Derendoff defended. Parrying the attack, he jumped back, creating a sudden space between him and Aiden.

  Aiden saw what the man was about to do from a mile away. He pulled his hand back at the same time Derendoff pulled his own hand back. Switching his grip on the scabbard, Aiden mirrored the former knight’s attack.

  Derendoff stabbed forward and so did Aiden.

  Aiden went for precision and Derendoff’s approaching blade slid seamlessly into the approaching scabbard. Aiden stepped into the attack, sheathing the claymore for Derendoff. With Derendoff’s claymore sheathed successfully, Aiden stepped in and struck the former knight’s wrist.

  A pained grunt slipped from Derendoff’s lips when Aiden struck his wrist. His hold on the sword weakened but did not fail so Aiden moved his weight to the side, trying to throw the former knight off his weapon. What followed was a flurry of movements. Feet scrambled in the sand. Derendoff pulled closer as he finally lost his grip on the hilt of his claymore. He tried to regain the weapon but Aiden was having none of it. Aiden struck Derendoff’s reaching hand with his free hand as he finally pulled the sheathed weapon behind him.

  Derendoff moved his second hand in another attempt, and Aiden kicked high, striking the hand away once more with his foot. Aiden spun into the kick so that the momentum carried him away from Derendoff. His coat twirled around him with the action, masking anything else he was going to do.

  When he came to a stop, there was a significant space between him and Derendoff.

  Both men stared at each other from across the distance as a calm settled on them.

  “A life for a life,” Aiden said, his voice hard. “You’ve taken Valdan’s. I’ll take yours.”

  Derendoff cocked his head to the side. “Who said that the cur is dead?”

  He hadn’t been when Aiden had walked into the arena, but he was now. Amongst the very many things that enchantments could do, healing a person in Valdan’s state was not one of them. Healing enchantments were rare, and the few that existed worked on a scale far too insignificant that it was better to just have a potion on hand.

  It was one of the reasons that enchantments always paled in comparison to spells. There were too many healing spells. If Aiden had possessed [Mana Mastery], he would’ve learnt one or two healing spells.

  But he could not.

  “I have your blade.” Aiden pulled the claymore from the scabbard, eyes never leaving Derendoff, and stabbed it into the ground beside him. “Here it is.”

  “Aren’t you going to save your boyfriend?” Derendoff mocked him, pretending to ignore his words. “You’ll let him bleed out and die?”

  Aiden’s lips tightened. He’s trying to distract you.

  Aiden could not allow it. He had already accepted Valdan’s death and was doing what had to be done. It was simply the way it was. Derendoff would die, then Aiden would be gone from the palace, never to be seen again. It was not the plan but it was what had to happen.

  Derendoff bent at the waist, leaning forward slightly. “You will let the man who taught you die?”

  Unable to help himself, Aiden’s gaze twitched to the side, to the general direction of where Valdan was.

  He found Elaswit sitting on the ground next to the knight. He caught movement out of the periphery of his vision at the same time and raised the scabbard in his hand.

  Derendoff had twitched forward but had not closed the distance. The scabbard was pointed straight at his head.

  “The princess will not save him,” Derendoff said. The man was still clearly trying to distract him. “She does not have what she needs to save him. And the king has granted me a pardon if I succeed in killing him, so he has to die for me to live.”

  What?!

  Aiden’s blood boiled. It was all he could do not to look in Brandis’ direction. He couldn’t make sense of it. Why would Brandis want Valdan dead so desperately?

  “I was as surprised as you are.” Derendoff took a casual stance, relaxed. “But after thinking about it, I found the answer. Loyalty. Valdan must’ve done something to call his own loyalty into question. If not that, Valdan mustve done something not deserving of death, but death was most likely a necessary option.” He held his arms out to his side. “But who are we to understand the workings of a king’s mind.”

  He laughed a little.

  As calm as he looked, Aiden knew better. Derendoff’s gaze kept going for his sword. His eyes kept twitching in its direction. It told Aiden everything that he needed to know.

  There were class skills that required weapons to work. An [Archer] would need a bow and an arrow to use some of their class skills. A [Baker] would need some baking equipment to use some of their class skills. An [Enchanter] would need an engraver and something to engrave upon to use some of their class skills.

  [Sword strike] was [Sword strike] because you needed to use a sword to strike. [Power shot] was [Power shot] because you had to shoot something. Derendoff’s desperation for his sword rather than just using a skill had to mean that his skills were tied to his weapon of choice somehow.

  Derendoff was weaker without his weapon.

  That’s enough.

  As for Elaswit, Derendoff was wrong. The princess had a spatial storage. She had everything she needed inside it.

  Aiden gestured at Derendoff’s sword still stuck in the ground with the scabbard. “I have your blade,” he repeated. He raised the scabbard. “But I don’t need it because I have your scabbard. And I’m going to kill you with it.”

  Aiden was more than confident in his ability to beat the life out of Derendoff with the scabbard. However, he wanted to put all that he had into beating the life out of Derendoff. He wanted to break the man before he killed the man.

  It is only right.

  He brought his hands together and weaved an enchantment upon himself. He would need to be at least just as strong as Derendoff to break the man.

  [You have used class skill Enchanted Weave.]

  …

  [You have used Weave of Lesser Strength]

  Aiden waited for the burst of strength only to be graced with a burst of pain. His legs threatened to give out beneath him and he staggered back.

  The pain grew from his heart where all his woven enchantments emanated from and funneled its way straight into his red arm.

  Then it was gone.

  What the hell?

  Derendoff moved, taking advantage of Aiden’s momentary loss of focus and balance. But Aiden wasn’t prone to losing focus during a fight. He stuck the end of the empty scabbard into the sand and swung upwards. Derendoff ran into a spray of sand. With the former knight’s vision temporarily blinded, Aiden swung the scabbard once more. A horizontal swing struck Derendoff in the jaw and sent him stumbling to the side.

  Aiden followed up on the attack, thrusting forward and stabbing Derendoff in the neck. As sturdy as the enchantment had made it, the scabbard remained a blunt instrument, so it did not pierce the former knight’s neck.

  Still, Derendoff staggered back, clutching at his neck as he rushed away from Aiden.

  “Pathetic,” Aiden muttered as he moved his attention to the new flurry of information his interface was showing him.

  Hopefully it was about to explain what had just happened. Why he had felt pain from his weaving instead of a burst of strength.

  [Error! Error! Error!]

  [Anomalous trait detected Spatial Crack]

  [Anomalous trait effect detected]

  …

  [Spatial Crack (Lvl 49)]

  An anomalous disruption in reality. You have gone through space and have been corrupted by its touch. You have ventured where none should and survived.

  [Effect: Spatial affinity]

  [Effect: Skill pending…]

  …

  [Pending effect unlocked]

  [Effect Skill Pending is now Spatial Touch]

  …

  [Spatial Touch]

  A spatial crack has the ability to touch the fabric of reality. Should you be able to, the secrets of the universe can be unraveled at a touch.

  …

  [Due to the existence of Trait skill Spatial Touch class skill Enchanted Weave does not take effect]

  Aiden stared at the notification with a frown. That’s going to be a problem.

  The annoying part was the fact that the skill’s explanation didn’t even tell him how to do what he was supposed to do. He didn’t even possess a mental understanding like the ones that came with every skill. Still, it didn’t surprise him. The time he’d spent on the other side of Nastild had taught him that, unlike skills, traits did not come with a manual.

  The inherency of traits dictated that they either just happened to you over time in a passive format or you learnt them. [Spatial affinity] seemed like a trait effect that happened to him over time in its passivity. [Spatial Touch] seemed like it was an effect he was going to have to learn.

  “I’ve had enough of this,” Derendoff said suddenly, raising his hand to the air. “I don’t need a weapon to kill you.”

  Aiden looked down at the scabbard. “Me neither. But killing you without one will be a waste.”

  The moment the words left Aiden’s mouth, he felt the air tremble slightly around him. His eyes moved to Derendoff’s raised hand and he knew it was the source of what was about to happen. Aiden knew this feeling. He had experienced it enough times.

  Something pulsed through the air, engulfing him in its wave. The air around him took on a new color as the mana turned a myriad of green and red. Aiden frowned as he watched green light rise from Derendoff’s body.

  He’s healing, Aiden thought as his interface came alive.

  [You have entered a Lvl 55 Manifested World]

  [You are under the effect of Manifested World Triumphant Sanctuary]

  [Effect: 30% decrease in all healing effects]

  Aiden looked back at Derendoff. It was safe to assume that if he was suffering a healing status debuff then the man was most likely enjoying a status buff. At least the smirk on his face said so.

  Keeping his single hand raised, Derendoff pointed his other hand at Aiden. Aiden’s instincts flared and he raised his scabbard just in time to deflect a gust of wind. The force threatened to overwhelm him, but it did not.

  After sending the blast aside, Aiden noted a crack in the scabbard. It seemed the enchantment he’d cast on the thing had reached its limit.

  It was time to kill Derendoff.

  …

  Elaswit rested Valdan’s head on her lap, worry on her face.

  If the gods were listening, then she hoped they would answer her prayers. If there was anyone present that did not deserve to die right now, it was Valdan. He had done nothing wrong. His present predicament was simply the error of a powerful man’s decision.

  She already fed him a stamina potion and a health potion. However, she didn’t know if it made any difference. She couldn’t tell. Valdan’s breathing was slow, sluggish. The injury in his side had stopped bleeding as much as before. While it was a good sign, it was also easily a bad sign. It could mean he was getting better just as easily as it could mean he was running out of blood to bleed.

  As terrifying as the thought of Valdan dying was, the sight of Aiden fighting was almost as worrying. He had danced around Derendoff since walking into the arena, throwing the knight off in battle. He belittled the knight with every blow.

  As equals he simply seemed stronger. But when you looked at it as a nineteen-year-old boy fighting a trained knight, it shed a different kind of light. And yet, she could not shake the feeling that he was holding back.

  When Derendoff raised his hand and activated a skill, Elaswit knew it was the skill that had led him to level fifty. She’d seen it enough times and knew how it worked. It granted Derendoff an increase in all stats while healing him of every injury. In return, it cut down his opponent’s ability to heal by a certain percentage.

  The good thing was that when you were caught in it, your interface told you exactly what was happening to you, so Aiden had to know that he was at a disadvantage. Still, he did not look bothered. His anger remained on his face, but there was something empty about it now. It had been empty for a while.

  Even when she’d tried drawing his attention by calling out to him, he had not answered. Elaswit knew that Aiden was under the misconception that Valdan was dead, but he was not, and she needed him to know it. Why? Because if Aiden accepted Valdan as dead, then once the fight was over, he would most likely cut ties with Bandiv.

  Elaswit did not want that. As disappointed in her father as she currently was, she knew that he was not a bad guy. She didn’t want Aiden cutting off the kingdom and holding them in his heart as the evil of Nastild.

  If he did, he could very well go down a path that saw them as the enemy. And while a lot of people would say that he would be in the right, Elaswit knew enough about why Derendoff had tried to kill him. She also knew enough about the prophecy of the [Demon King].

  For her, hate could push a person to become anything, and the last thing she wanted was to wake up one morning to find out that Aiden Lacheart had become the [Demon King] because of his hate for their kingdom.

  I cannot allow it.

  An odd sound erupted around Elaswit, pulling her from her revery. She turned in its direction, unsurprised to find that it had come from Aiden and Derendoff.

  What the hell?

  Aiden swung the scabbard and deflected a blast of wind that came at him from Derendoff’s outstretched hand. The scabbard left a trail of blue-black mana with every swing. It was an eerie thing to watch and Elaswit could not remember ever seeing mana that color. From what she knew about Aiden, it was most likely the effect of an enchantment.

  However, the mana was not what left her confused. It was how easily Aiden maneuvered his way to Derendoff and struck him in the shoulder with the scabbard, wielding it like a sword. Derendoff groaned in pain and staggered away from Aiden, but Aiden did not let him go. Covering the distance between them with a single step, he struck Derendoff in the thigh, dropping the man to his knee.

  “You dare—”

  Derendoff’s words were cut short by a painful cry as Aiden stabbed him in the eye. Blood spilled from the eye but Elaswit knew the eye would heal. It was the way with Derendoff’s manifesting skill. He could lose a finger and grow it back as long as he was within the field of the skill.

  But Aiden didn’t seem to care.

  Even as Derendoff screamed in pain, Aiden struck him on the head. The action was methodical, systematic. Aiden was a man going through the motion.

  Derendoff tried to rise and Aiden struck him again, this time it was an upward swing straight into his groin. Derendoff buckled from the blow, gasping in pain as he fell to the ground and rolled away.

  Aiden walked up to him and stabbed down. The end of the scabbard smashed into Derendoff’s throat with enough force to crush the man’s windpipe.

  Derendoff grabbed his throat in pain. Air seemed to deny him its life saving presence as he choked.

  “You will heal,” Aiden said, voice bland. “You will heal until you have no more mana. Then you will die. Until then, pain will be your companion.” He stepped on Derendoff’s knee with enough force to break it. The sound of the knee breaking filled the theater. “I will break you and you will heal yourself so that I can break you again.”

  Derendoff’s eye had healed and now he looked up at Aiden in fear.

  “I was right about you,” he stuttered. “You are nothing but a monster.”

  Aiden ignored his words and stabbed him in the eye. Derendoff rolled away, avoiding the blow but Aiden stepped on his ankle before he could go far. He struck it with so much force that the crack filled the air.

  It was preceded by Derendoff’s cry.

  “At some point,” Aiden said, restricting the former knight’s movement with his foot on his broken ankle, “you will begin to ask yourself if the pain is worth the healing.”

  Elaswit looked to the stands where her father and his advisor were. Her father was standing now, but she could not make out his expression. The same could be said of his advisor.

  Derendoff turned with a hand hidden behind him and blasted a gust of wind at Aiden’s neck. Aiden tilted his head to the side, avoiding the blast and it blew off into the distance. As for his hidden arm, a spiral of wind gathered to it, growing stronger with each passing second.

  Derendoff pulled the hidden arm out and blasted Aiden with the growing skill. Unfazed, Aiden raised the scabbard to meet the skill. The skill collided into the scabbard in an explosion that obliterated it.

  Aiden was left standing with the remains of the scabbard in his hand. He tossed it to the side.

  “It has outlived its usefulness.” He looked down at Derendoff. “Just as you have.”

  Elaswit’s gaze was drawn away from the both of them and she let out a sigh of relief when she saw Valdan’s chest rise and fall. Valdan had just taken a deep breath and Elaswit had never been so happy to see a person take a deep breath in her life.

  He’ll live, she thought in excitement. He’ll live.

  “ENOUGH!”

  The sound of her father’s voice ripped her attention from Valdan and she turned to find him standing within the arena. His advisor had not followed him and he stood with his eyes fixed on Aiden.

  “Please,” he said, voice calm once more. “Enough, Lord Lacheart.”

  Elaswit moved her attention from her father to Aiden and was surprised by what she saw. Aiden stood behind Derendoff with an arm around his neck. Derendoff looked weak even with all the green mana evaporating from him, healing him. She found the reason for his weakness a moment later. Aiden had his entire red hand buried in the former knight’s side, just below his rib.

  “Don’t kill him,” her father said. “Please.”

  Aiden cocked a quizzical brow at her father. “I promised him that he would die. Some promises should not be broken.”

  “And I promised him that he would live if he won against Valdan,” her father replied.

  To Elaswit, that was the dumbest response her father could have given. He had just admitted to motivating what had happened to Valdan.

  “Why?” Aiden asked, to her surprise. He sounded reasonable, unfazed by the anger she knew he carried. “What created the necessity?”

  Elaswit frowned. Had his voice undulated just now? For a moment he had sounded different… off… as if he had carried a second voice.

  When her father hesitated to answer, Aiden dug his hand deeper into the former knight’s side. Derendoff groaned in pain. His manifesting skill was still active, healing him, but Aiden was still killing him.

  “It was for him to cross the threshold,” her father answered finally, as if he had hoped to keep it a secret. “To cross the threshold into level fifty, Valdan had to risk his life. He had to push himself to the brink of death and back.”

  “Then you should’ve sent him off on a mission capable of doing just that,” Aiden said.

  Elaswit’s father shook his head. “It’s not that simple. He had to be unable to back out. He had to believe that he was going to die.” His eyes pleaded with Aiden. “You have to believe me, Lord Lacheart. It was the only way. So I swore an Oath to Derendoff, believing that it would not matter. I thought Valdan could do it. I thought he could win. He has so much promise. I… I just…” He ran a tired hand through his hair. “I made a mistake. But please… Let me punish Derendoff.”

  “You promised to free him if he won. How do you intend on punishing him?”

  “There are other ways to punish a free man.”

  Derendoff struggled against Aiden’s hold. Aiden did not tighten his hold on the former knight’s neck. He did not struggle with Derendoff. His red arm simply moved deeper into his side and Derendoff coughed up blood. His struggle ceased immediately.

  Aiden didn’t even look down at him. “Sight-bound?” he asked her father. “Is that it?”

  There was a touch of surprise on Elaswit’s father’s expression. “You know what that is?”

  Aiden nodded slowly. “I’ve lived on your world long enough to know a thing or two about a thing or two. Is sight-bound your solution?”

  The king nodded. “It is.”

  “Then do it.” Aiden’s red arm tightened and Derendoff groaned. “Do it here and now.”

  “Valdan requires attention.”

  “Here and now, your grace.” Aiden’s voice was tight. “In the light of recent events, I cannot say that I trust you enough to do it later. I don’t know what oaths you’ve sworn so I cannot trust you. Sight-bound ensures that anyone is capable of killing him, correct? They are allowed to, free from punishment. It ensures that he will always be hunted as long as he is within the kingdom.”

  Elaswit’s father nodded and Aiden squeezed against the side of Derendoff once more. Elaswit realized that he was doing it to keep the injury from healing completely. Whatever mess his hand was making inside Derendoff, it was painful and recurring.

  “So Sight-bound him now, your grace,” Aiden said. “Do it and I will take my hand out and let him go. Then you can do whatever you want with him.” He looked down at Derendoff for the first time, at his hand in the man’s side. “Well, what’s left of him.”

  King Brandis looked at Derendoff and sighed.

  “No,” Derendoff scowled. “You promised. You made an Oath.”

  “I made an Oath to free you, and free you are.” King Brandis shook his head in dismay. “You were always a fool, Derendoff. Now that I have freed you, my Oath has been satisfied.”

  “You cannot do this!” Derendoff spat at him. “You are a KING!”

  “You are free, Derendoff. And now I bind you. By the power vested on me by the title granted upon me, I bind you. May you wander the kingdom knowing that your life is anyone’s to claim. If they can claim it, they are mandated to claim it. All who wish it shall be granted a reward for taking your life.” As king Brandis, fourth of his name, spoke, his eyes glowed a bright gold. He raised his hand and pointed it at Derendoff. “A quest I grant to all, subject of the crown or not. For the life of Derendoff Naranoff, they shall be rewarded. For anyone who sees you and wishes it, it shall be on sight. All will be your enemy. All will seek your life. I, King Brandis, Fourth of his name, declare this.”

  A golden beam of light came down from above them to strike Derendoff. It engulfed him and Aiden, lasting for a few seconds before disappearing. When it was gone, Derendoff had the symbol of the royal family glowing a soft golden yellow on his forehead.

  “Let all who see you know this,” her father finished. Then he looked at Aiden. “It is done. I know this might not mean much to you, but I am truly sorry that it happened. This…” He gestured at Elaswit and Valdan. “This was not my intention.”

  Aiden nodded slowly, pulling his red arm from Derendoff’s side slowly. “Maybe I will come to understand one day.”

  Derendoff had tears in his eyes as he stared at the king. Tears and hate.

  Elaswit prepared herself. For all his twisted loyalty, she could not put it beyond Derendoff to attack her father. And considering how weak her father looked, she had no idea what the outcome would be.

  When she looked at Derendoff, there was an icon above his head. It was blood red, and it read:

  [Sight-Bound]

  “This was not your intention.” Aiden’s red hand was halfway out of Derendoff’s side and the injury was healing. “But this was mine.”

  He removed the red hand and Derendoff moved. Whatever the former knight intended to do, Elaswit did not know, and she did not get to witness it.

  Aiden moved in a blur of motion and the sound of Derendoff’s neck breaking filled the entire arena.

  With green light still emanating from him, Derendoff fell to the ground, limp. Lifeless.

  Aiden’s eyes never left her father’s.

  “Just as promised,” he said. “You can have what is left of him.”

  The green light faded from Derendoff’s body, and so did the title of [Sight-bound] above his head.