He charged at Cain like death incarnate.
Fists clenched tight, veins bulging, face twisted into a mask of primal fury. Sand exploded beneath his feet, leaving deep imprints behind him—as if the earth itself couldn't bear his weight.
Cain didn't move.
One hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his breath steady. The unfamiliar blade felt too light. Wrong.Alien.
"Too slow," flashed through his mind as the giant closed the distance.
The blow came faster than a blink. A fist that could shatter stone tore through the air with a low whistle.
Cain's body moved on its own.
Not the way he had planned. Not where he had meant to. He flowed aside like a shadow slipping from the light.
Sand erupted in a cloud of dust.
— "My name is Taurus, son of Feralis," the giant growled, straightening. His eyes gleamed with predatory rage. "Remember the name of the one who'll rip you apart!"
Cain said nothing.
Chaos raged around them. The roar of the crowd had become a single throbbing pulse, hungry for blood. Dozens of warriors hacked at each other, turning the arena into an altar of sacrifice for the gods of spectacle.
Vigfuss watched from above, atop a high stone dais, his eyes burning with joy.
— "Taurus is my pride," he chuckled. "The finest warrior of the new generation."
Taurus attacked again—a flurry of lightning-fast strikes that made the air sing. Cain slipped through them like a dancer, graceful and silent.
He knew: brute strength wouldn't win this fight. So instead...
Cain closed his eyes. For a moment. A fraction of a second.And let go.
His body moved without thought. His legs carried him forward, guided by instincts he didn't remember acquiring, navigating the storm of blows.
Each strike met only empty air—Cain had been there a moment before, but now he was gone, as if he'd never been.
— "Coward!" the giant roared. "Fight like a man!"
But Cain wasn't listening anymore.
At the far end of the arena, another fighter froze mid-motion. A man who claimed he came here to live forever. A long golden earring dangled from one ear. The steel staff in his hands hovered, halted mid-swing.
His eyes fixed on the stands.
The cocky grin vanished from his face, replaced by sudden confusion.
— "What the hell are you doing here?" he whispered.
On the opposite end stood a tall, slender warrior with pale, disheveled hair. With an expression of utter boredom and cold indifference, he killed without effort. His katana sang its song of death, slicing through flesh with surgical precision.
— "Stop dancing, coward!" Taurus roared, his strikes coming faster, more desperate.
Cain backed into the chaos of the melee. Behind him, danger loomed—a warrior with a massive axe, sensing an opening, swung to cleave him in two.
Cain didn't even look.
His sword turned in his hand—one fluid motion, no wasted gesture. The blade slid between the attacker's ribs as if it knew the path by heart. No aim. No hesitation.
The dying man's scream died in his throat. Cain ripped the blade free with a smooth motion, already spinning to block another strike—another foe was upon him.
Steel met steel. Blades screeched past each other, sparks flying like falling stars. In an instant, Cain's sword found a gap, slashing deep across the enemy's throat.
Above the arena, the god of memory—Kophion—watched.
His eyes flared with turquoise flame as he tried to pierce the mind of the warrior who moved with inhuman precision.
He peered deeper.
Through the noise. Through the blood. Through the flesh—he sought the memories of this mortal.
Cain froze.A hum. Pressure. Pain.A murky, viscous spasm in his mind.
But where memories should have been… there was only a void. A black hole, bottomless and starving.
Where a history should've lived—there was nothing.
Kophion recoiled, then smiled with grim fascination.
— "Empty," he whispered. "Who erased you?"
Taurus sensed the momentary weakness. His attack was perfect—a sideways strike impossible to dodge in the tight space where Cain was pinned between other fighters.
But suddenly, his fist stopped.
A third man stood in its path. The one with the golden earring, blood soaking the white fur lining his black vest.
The fighter with the staff and thick sideburns had stepped between them, his weapon whistling through the air to intercept Taurus's punch just before impact.
— "Sorry, buddy," he said with a sly squint. "I just got... curious."
— "I'LL KILL YOU!" Taurus bellowed.
— "Yeah, yeah... I hear that a lot," the man replied, smirking.
At that moment, a second figure joined them.
Thin, disinterested, his katana gleaming with blood. His lazy gaze swept over the opponents without a flicker of emotion.
— "Two-on-one? Almost intriguing."
Taurus now stood between two new foes. His eyes darted back and forth, weighing the threat. These two moved differently from the others. Coordinated. Calm.Fearless.
— "This isn't over, outsider," he snarled at Cain. "I'll rip your heart out!"
Then Vigfuss's voice thundered from the dais:
— "ENOUGH! PHASE ONE IS COMPLETE!"
Silence crashed down on the arena.
The fighters stood frozen, gasping for breath. Ten. Exactly ten remained alive.
Cain. Taurus.The two mysterious warriors.And six others—standing, but barely.
A grin curled Vigfuss's lips.
— "Let Phase Two begin... Release the beasts!"
The crowd exploded.
— "SACRIFICE!"— "SACRIFICE!"— "SACRIFICE!"
The chant rose like a storm.
Grates around the arena began to rise.Chains clanked.Stone trembled.
From the darkness beyond the cages, something enormous stirred.
The first to emerge was a two-headed wolf.Then a two-meter lion.And behind them—shadows of more ravenous monsters took form.
The fighters slowly shifted closer together.
Cain stood calm.
Beside him—two men who needed no words.Around them—beasts who knew no mercy.