Kael was still on his knees.
Breath short.Face drenched with mingled sweat and blood.Muscles stiff.Veins pulsating.But his eyes...Red, dilated, fixed on one of the gremlins.
He was no longer thinking.He was seeing.
And there...
Something.
A mark.Barely visible, nestled on the creature's left flank.
A complex, shifting shape, like an ancient glyph engraved beneath the skin.The spiral lines blossomed into purplish obsidian arabesques, bordered by black cracks, as if the flesh itself had begun to fissure around it.
A blackish aura emanated.Thin. Floating.Almost... gentle at first.
But the moment his gaze clung to it...
The pain exploded.
A violent shock pierced his optic nerve.Then the other.
As if two glowing-hot spikes had plunged directly into his eye sockets.
Kael screamed.
But this time, the cry stayed inside.His jaws clenched.His back arched.
And in his mind, a muffled, automatic phrase:
[Burn Resistance — Avatar Sub-Enhancement: confirmed]
His skull vibrated.His eyes bled.Yet... he did not close them.
He wanted to see.He had to see.
The mark still pulsed.
And his instinct...
Told him where to strike.
A gremlin saw him move.Just a little.A knee twitch.
It leapt.
Kael had no time to think.He let his body act.
His numb hand jerked upward sharply.His fist, partly paralyzed, closed imperfectly—but enough.
He aimed for the flaw.
And struck.
The gremlin stopped dead.
Then, its flank split.Not like a normal wound.Like a ceramic pushed too far, finally cracked.
A nearly liquid black light burst from the fissure.The creature collapsed.Dead.Instantly.
Kael froze.
His arm fell.His eyes trembled.But he understood one thing: it was not strength.
It was precision.
Another gremlin stood up.Sturdier.In its hand... a sickle.
Rudimentary.But strange.
The blade was too thin, almost curved like a creature's tooth, and the alloy seemed to absorb light.
Kael saw it.
And his heart skipped a beat.
A warmth.No... a pulse.A subtle tug in his still-shaking palm.
As if his body said to him:
"Take it."
But it was not a survival instinct.
It was something else.
An attraction.Cold. Ancient. Painfully familiar.
"Why does this weapon look at me like it recognizes me...?"
He slowly rose.Blood still trickled from his eyelids.His body trembled, but he stood firm.And his eyes...
Red.Unreal.Vibrant.
But at their center...A golden spark.Thin.Pulsing.
Like a sun trapped in the gaze of the dead.
And around him...
Something materialized.
A black, fluid, creeping aura rose from his shoulders, from his shadows.Not an active power.Just... pressure.
A muted cry that his soul emitted without his knowing.
The gremlins recoiled.One. Two. Then all.
One stumbled.
Another scratched the stone with bare hands, seeking a nonexistent escape.
The third screamed.Not to attack.But to warn.
Kael stepped forward.
Nothing hostile.Just a movement.
And the corridor emptied.
No confrontation.
A retreat.
In the observatory, the Guide had frozen.
One finger still poised above a dormant interface.
His eyes no longer blinked.His breath stuck without his realizing.
And then:
— This is a joke...
He clicked sharply to open a series of diagnostics.
— Tell me I'm dreaming...
— First an epiphany... and now this?
A frozen silence.
Then, in a lower, almost... sincere whisper:
— And the Tower lets him do this?
The floor was covered with dark marks.Dried blood. Bile. Ashes.But Kael no longer paid attention.
He still saw...Too much.
The purple glyphs were imprinted everywhere.Even on bodies already dead.Even on the ground.
His brain tried to sort them, but his nerves screamed.
Too much aura. Too many flaws. Too much noise in my eyes.
And then...
The floor pulsed again.
They arrived silently.
No cries.No mad dashes.
Five silhouettes leapt into the pale light.Larger.Sharper.Different.
Gremlins—yes.But enhanced.
Some had longer fangs.Others wore pieces of rusty armor tied around their torsos.One, in the center, gripped a spiked chain half-eaten by rust.
They no longer played.
They charged.
Kael inhaled.His body was already tensed.And in his gaze... the glyphs reappeared.
But not like before.
Too vivid.Too many.
Four glyphs at once.
All pulsing, overlapping, twisting his vision like a spiral of living ink.
He raised his arm.
But the angle escaped him.
The first claw swipe hit his shoulder.Then another, lower.A bite.An injection.
And the poison entered.
Kael stepped back.Stumbled.
His stomach twisted.His throat closed.A metallic, heavy, bitter taste rose in his mouth.
His veins began to sizzle, to swell.As if the foreign liquid refused to be absorbed.
He fell to his knees.
His vision blurred.
And then...
[Poison Resistance — Avatar Sub-Enhancement: confirmed]
The signal was brutal.Like a detonation beneath the skin.
His body expelled the intruder.He vomited a black trickle onto the floor.Then... he rose.
Slowly.But without trembling.
His eyes were still red.Still split by a golden gleam.But this time... he hesitated.
Too many glyphs. Too much aura. Too much noise.I must sort them... read them. Not just endure.
In the observation room, the Guide pressed his lips.
He said nothing.Not yet.
But in his pupils, a reflection passed.
No fear.
A calculation.
He still did not blink.
Kael... still held on.
Two waves, already.
Two resistances, endured.No reinforcements.No gear.Relentless.Without apparent logic.
He slid a finger over one of the control circles.Then another.
More arenas opened before him.
More calibrated profiles.Candidates the Tower itself had chosen.Weighed.Isolated.
"And what will they do, now?"
His gaze settled alternately on two silhouettes.
Not as spectacular.But... interesting.
The Guide watched.
His fingers silently danced on the interface, tracing arabesques of data in the air.
Kael...was no longer the only one to merit his attention.
Others did more than survive.They transformed.
Gravyor
The arena's field still vibrated with cries from the first wave.But around him... silence.
Not a body on the ground.
Not a breath of enemy.
The remaining gremlins... had vanished.
Fleeing, crawling, or hidden.
Gravyor stood straight, arms out, fingers slightly curled.As if wanting to embrace the void.
His gaze...was still the same.Empty.Cruel.But calm.
Around him, the air seemed heavier, as if every meter of ground had become hostile to all who breathed fear.
Then he moved.One step.Then another.
And one of the gremlins suddenly burst from the shadows, screaming like a madman, its trembling blade in hand.
Gravyor only looked.
The next instant, the creature collapsed, clutching its head as if burned from within.
"Mental oppression by emotional saturation."
"Aura of Dread, stabilized."
The Guide clicked slowly.
"He does not think. He imprints."
"Stable effect. Brutal. Instinctive."
Kiyoshi
Elsewhere, in another arena, the silence was... different.
Purer.Deeper.
Kiyoshi sat.Legs crossed.Eyes closed.
Around him, the gremlins circled.Confused.Hesitant.
A thin circle of ash had formed around him by mere friction of his kimono on the dust.
He did not speak.But with every breath, the air around vibrated gently, as if in harmony with his respiration.
Then one approached.
Too close.
A slight frown.
And the gremlin staggered.As if pushed back by an invisible wave.
Kiyoshi opened his eyes.
No supernatural gleam.
Just...
...peace.
But in this peace, the Guide read absolute control.
"Defensive meditation active. Partial harmonization?"
"This mind is not that of a fighter."
"But of a sanctuary..."