The coliseum fell silent.
It wasn't an ordinary silence, it wasn't anticipation…
it was fear.
Amid the dust, the blood, and the shattered bodies, only one remained standing.
That being was "Morgan."
-son of a bitch… forcing me to come out.
("Morgan" said quietly, his breath ragged and his throat burning.)
Then something broke in the middle of that void.
Clap.
A single applause.
Dry. Slow.
Then another.
And another.
The applause began to multiply, crashing against the stands like an awakening tide.
It came from the highest balcony, from the throne itself.
The king.
Ursa fell to his knees.
The sound of his bones striking the sand was almost as loud as the echo of his mind shattering.
He began to repeat, over and over, his gaze lost, his voice trembling, as if denying reality could change it.
-it can't be… it can't be… it can't be… this isn't happening… there must be some mistake… there has to be…
(Ursa said, crying in desperation, losing his sanity.)
-marvelous… simply marvelous.
(The king said, applauding with a fascinated smile.)
Then the impossible happened.
The king stepped onto the edge of the balcony.
-father?
(Princess Amon said, surprised and confused.)
Without hesitation, the king let his body fall into the void.
He did not fall.
He descended.
His figure drifted down like a feather—soft, elegant, unnatural.
Behind him, Princess Amon descended as well, her brow furrowed and her heart racing.
-father, what are you doing?
(Amon said, confused.)
-nothing, nothing… I simply wished to personally congratulate this young man for the extraordinary display he has just given us.
(The king said cheerfully, almost euphoric.)
-but father…
(Amon complained.)
The king began to walk toward "Morgan," never stopping his applause.
Each step echoed like a judgment.
-impressive… simply impressive, boy.
Please, tell me your name. I must know the name of such a tremendous warrior.
Allow me to personally congratulate you on such an incredible victo—
He didn't finish the sentence.
"Morgan" remained motionless.
Head lowered.
Hair covering his face.
Fists clenched.
He clenched his teeth.
His body tensed slightly… then stretched violently.
He lifted his gaze to the sky and roared.
It was not a human scream.
It was a brutal, primal roar, filled with rage, pain, and victory.
The coliseum trembled.
The stands vibrated.
The air cracked.
Amon moved instinctively, placing herself in front of the king to protect him.
But there was no attack.
It was a roar of triumph.
A scream that said without words:
I won.
I'm still standing.
I am the strongest.
When the roar ended, "Morgan" dropped to his knees.
His transformation faded.
-oh… what an energetic young man.
The roar snapped everyone out of the shock.
The coliseum erupted.
Those present shouted in excitement.
Satana hugged Galahad tightly; Galahad cried, trembling with happiness, while Satana sobbed uncontrollably.
Luzbel leaned his head back against his seat, placed a hand on his chest, and took a deep breath.
He closed his eyes.
His heart was beating normally again.
-that's good…
Zarathoz spread his wings and descended into the arena.
He quickly positioned himself beside Morgan and crouched to examine him.
-that was close, you stupid brat.
(Zarathoz said quietly while checking him.)
-let's go. We have to get out of here.
(He said urgently.)
Zarathoz lifted Morgan and draped one of his arms over his shoulders to support him.
-I must congratulate you, Zarathoz.
You've found an impressive boy. Without a doubt, I believe he will have much to offer our kingdom… and our academy.
(The king said cheerfully.)
-hahaha… thank you, Your Majesty.
(Zarathoz said with a nervous smile, bowing.)
Zarathoz turned to take Morgan away, but the king stopped them by raising his voice.
-oh, wait… are you leaving so soon?
(The king said, surprised.)
Zarathoz clenched his teeth in fury.
He had no choice.
He turned around and forced his best smile.
-yes, Your Majesty. As you can see, the young man is exhausted and wounded.
Something could happen if his injuries aren't treated and he isn't allowed to rest.
(Zarathoz said, smiling falsely.)
-but we still haven't given him his reward.
(The king said, distressed.)
-reward?
(Zarathoz said, confused.)
-yes, his reward.
Or did you think that after such a display of strength and spirit we would let him leave without recompense?
(The king said, as if it were obvious.)
-forgive me, Your Majesty… what kind of reward are you referring to?
(Zarathoz asked, still confused.)
-hmm… good question.
What reward would be worthy of such a talented and… marvelous young man?
(The king said thoughtfully.)
The king turned his head toward his daughter and, with slight disdain, asked:
-what should we give him, Amon?
Amon sighed.
With firmness and authority, she replied:
-whatever His Majesty grants him will be sufficient.
The king looked disappointed.
-ahhh… Amon, always so cold and serious.
(He said, annoyed.)
The king turned toward Zarathoz and "Morgan" and raised his voice.
-very well, boy.
Today you have shown us what you are capable of.
You fought, you triumphed, your spirit was stronger.
And it is my duty to reward you.
He spread his arms wide.
-tell me… what do you desire?
The coliseum exploded in cheers.
-I, Cain, the Seventh Crown and ruler of this kingdom, shall grant you whatever your heart desires.
Gold, jewels, the most luxurious.
Lands, the vastest and most prosperous.
Or women, the most beautiful and virtuous.
Just tell me… tell me, noble young man, what shall your wish be?
-father, that's too much…
(Amon said, worried.)
-Your Majesty, it isn't necessary…
(Zarathoz said nervously.)
But "Morgan" moved.
He pulled away from Zarathoz's arm, staggering.
-haha… can you really grant me whatever I want?
("Morgan" said mockingly.)
Zarathoz and Amon tried to stop him at the same time, but the king raised his hand.
Silence.
-that is correct.
(The king said coldly.)
-then…
"Morgan" slowly raised his hand.
-I want her.
He pointed toward the tunnel where Galahad and Satana were.
But specifically, he was pointing at Galahad.
The coliseum went mute.
They had offered riches, power, pleasures…
and he had chosen a human marked by scars, blind in one eye, broken by life.
The king was shocked by such a request; however, beneath his mask, he smiled.
A satisfied smile.
End of chapter.
Next chapter: I lost.