Kal was descending dark stairs, each step echoing through the silent corridor. He walked for some time until reaching a large area. That place was already well known to Kal, as he had been there before. It was the underground of the ruins of the White Palace in Bercuranon. "This place is imbued with mana. Something powerful must reside here," he thought as he passed through the vast area.
As he walked, the torches lit up before him, illuminating his path. Finally, he arrived in front of the great gate he had once passed through. Before it, the different Kal who was now there repeated the words: "At varmu obania ga ur irech" in the ancient language. The doors opened, and he simply walked into the mausoleum.
"I know you're there. Let's just get this over with!" said Kal, positioning himself in the middle of the mausoleum. From behind the tombs, a shadow emerged. A black knight wearing a grim armor and red eyes that stood out from his helmet. An ethereal red cape flew behind him.
"Have you returned to reclaim what is yours?" said Spartan, the knight.
"You used an artifact to cut Kal's connection with us. We have come to restore that connection!" said Kal with a slight smile on his face.
"You're smiling? The first time you came to me, I felt your emotions were disappearing. Fear, concern, anxiety and despair still resisted in you. Now, it seems you've regained joy and will!" said Spartan, intrigued.
Kal smiled stronger. "You truly understood Kal. Feelings are unnecessary for the being he will become!" said Kal, charging head-on at Spartan.
A grand battle was about to begin in the underground of the White Castle ruins. Spartan, the Sworn Sword and Guardian of the Mausoleum, drew his black sword and awaited the collision against Kal's katana. Kal's eyes were brighter golden than the first time he was there.
The initial collision was overwhelming. The swords clashed with a sound that echoed off the stone walls. Sparks flew as the blades met, and the impact's force made the ground tremble. Kal moved with supernatural agility, his blows were fast and precise, while Spartan blocked and counterattacked with brutal strength.
Kal delivered blows with his katana, trying to find an opening in Spartan's defense. The black knight, in turn, used his black sword with impeccable skill, blocking each attack and responding with powerful blows that made Kal retreat.
"You've improved greatly since last time," Spartan commented, his red eyes fixed on Kal. "But you're still far from defeating me."
Kal did not respond, only intensified his attacks. He knew Spartan was a formidable opponent and he would need all his skill to defeat him. The battle continued, each blow and defense a spectacle of strength and technique.
The mana around Kal shone intensely, reflecting his determination. "I'm not just here to reclaim what is mine. I'm here to ensure nothing interrupts Kal's destiny," he said, his golden eyes fixed on Spartan.
Spartan, feeling the seriousness in Kal's words, redoubled his efforts. He attacked with renewed ferocity, their blades meeting in a deadly dance. The room seemed to vibrate with the intensity of the battle, the stone walls absorbing each impact.
"Let's see what you're truly capable of!" Spartan shouted, advancing with a powerful blow that made Kal retreat.
Kal, without losing composure, dodged and counterattacked with a fast movement, his katana cutting through the air with precision. The battle between them was a clash of titans, each trying to surpass the other in skill and strength.
As the battle continued, the energy in the mausoleum grew. The mana embedded in the walls seemed to respond to the intensity of the fight, creating an atmosphere charged with power. Kal and Spartan were fully concentrated, each determined to win.
Kal and Spartan fought as the sun rose over the streets of Zoarlath. Catoni, who was setting up his old stall, heard the sound of many people in the central market square. People were flocking to the center of the large outdoor market.
The old man, who had spent the entire previous night worried and pensive about Adonis and the other youths' whereabouts, decided to go to where the people were gathering. The people shouted and applauded. "What's happening over there? Maybe some fight, or perhaps some new product is being sold," Catoni thought.
Making his way through the crowd, Catoni saw two hooded figures. They held the sacred book of the gods and spoke fervently to all those people who listened and rejoiced with each phrase shouted by the men. "No... it can't be!" Catoni thought.
Catoni glimpsed a time long past when the man who called himself 'The Blessed One' similarly incited the people. For these men dressed, spoke and incited the people in the same way. Catoni could not believe it, since he was one of the main responsible for the fall of the Arkon dynasty.
One of the men, raising the sacred book high, shouted: "Listen, noble people of Tenai. I have not forgotten you. I promised I would return. I see you are living miserable lives, but you were promised abundance and bounty. What happened? How did we let it come to this? That is why we've returned to deliver what was promised by the gods!"
The people shouted and with each passing minute more and more gathered around the men. The other man stood up this time and shouted: "Remember what was said: that the son of Selerian would return at the darkest hour, when chaos reigned over the steppes, when pure blood flowed freely and when the golden light of the goddess rose from the ruins of the alabaster dawn!!" By now there were thousands surrounding him.
The first man who had raised the book and still held it high completed: "As was prophesied. For so long you walked in shadows, sheltered by demons who ruled over you. Today I am here to bring fire and purification to the enemies of the gods and bearers of chaos! Zoarlath belongs to the people and not to criminal kings!"
Catoni was frightened, feeling this could bring another bloody and terrible revolution like the last one. That's why he quickly left. However, looking more closely, Catoni realized that underneath the hood of one of those men was a familiar face.
"Arphaxad?" Catoni thought. "No, I must be seeing things!" he concluded, turning and leaving that place.
As he walked quickly away from the crowd, Catoni couldn't shake the feeling of unease. He knew what was happening there could trigger terrible events. His mind was full of memories of the last revolution, the horrors and destruction he had witnessed. "I have to warn Adonis and the others," he thought, picking up his pace.
In the market square, the hooded men continued inflaming the crowd. "We will reclaim what is rightfully ours!" shouted one of them. "We will purge the usurpers and restore the people's glory!"
The people, seized by a rising fervor, responded with supporting cries. The atmosphere was electrifying, charged with hope and despair. The hooded men's message was striking at people's hearts who longed for change.
Meanwhile, in Hwin's arena, Cruxe and Meglin fought together against two men while the others waited. Hwin's macabre show continued. Even after what happened to Kal before everyone, those demons' thirst for blood was greater than the fear they had felt before.
Cruxe and Meglin fought very well together since they had known each other for a long time, easily handling Hwin's men. However, when Cruxe went in for the final blow, the ground where she stood transformed into a kind of quicksand, trapping her along with Meglin. Adonis, observing from outside, noticed mages who weren't fighting had conjured a magic to trap them.
The two men took the opportunity to attack Cruxe and Meglin, piercing Cruxe's left thigh and cutting Meglin's stomach. Yorin, nervous, rose to conjure a magic to help them. However, Adonis grabbed him by the shoulder and reminded him: "We can't stray from the plan!" Yorin, still nervous, said, "What we can't do is let them die because of a plan we don't even know will work!"
But Yorin soon gave up helping them, realizing they were all holding back not to ruin the plan they had previously devised. Cruxe then fell into a rage and with her bare hands gouged out one man's eyes. Meglin, despite being badly hurt, grabbed the other man, immobilizing him, giving Cruxe a chance to plunge her sword into the center of the man's forehead, felling him instantly.
The crowd shouted in joy and rage to see Hwin's men had lost. However, Hwin himself laughed loudly above, pleased with what was happening that night. Then from above, Hwin announced the heroes would have to choose a fighter for the next bout, as it would be against Zigga, leader of the Black Daggers.
As Zigga entered the arena, the crowd shouted insanely: "Zigga, Zigga!!!" Even after the shock of Krekk's defeat, they had faith in the victory of the one who was the forefinger of the god's five fingers. On the other side, Aura volunteered to fight. Adonis, ever protective, refused and held her back, but Aura was determined. However, Adonis feared losing her and couldn't let her go. Sahara then confronted Adonis: "Just as you are powerful, your sister is too. She saved Hadon's house from Hwin and can win this fight if you just let her do what she wants."
Adonis, trembling, slowly released Aura's clothes and, holding himself back, let her go. "Come back, sister," he whispered.
Aura, determined, walked toward the arena. The crowd, now divided between excitement and tension, watched attentively. Zigga, with an evil smile, raised her daggers, ready for battle. "So you're the one coming to face me? I hope you're prepared to die," Zigga said, her voice cold and calculating.
Aura was undaunted. She removed a small jewel-adorned dagger from its scabbard and gripped it firmly, feeling the magical energy pulsing through it. "I'm more than prepared. You don't know who you're dealing with," she responded confidently.