Chapter 52 – The Sword’s Hunger

【Jin PoV】

The blade sang as it left the sheath.

The sound was quiet, almost a whisper, but it resonated through my entire body like a struck bell. The hum of the Master’s forge lived in the steel, a deep vibration that felt alive. I wrapped both hands around the hilt and felt the weight settle into my palms. This was it. My mana reserves were already running on fumes, barely a trickle left after the beating I’d taken. My vision blurred at the edges, dark spots dancing across my sight. My fingers were ice cold.

I poured everything I had left into the blade.

The steel began to glow, white light bleeding from the edge and crawling up the fuller. It was hungry. It drank my mana like a man dying of thirst, pulling it from my core in greedy gulps. My legs trembled. The cold spread from my fingers to my wrists, then my arms. I could feel my heartbeat slowing, each thud heavy and sluggish in my chest.

“Severing Void Strike!”

I screamed the name because my lungs demanded it, because the power needed a voice to anchor it to the world. The blade erupted. A beam of pure white light tore from the edge, wider than my torso, brighter than the sun. It cut through the air with a sound like tearing silk. The arena went silent. The beam slammed into Malakor’s dark shield, the one he’d been lazily holding up like an afterthought.

It cut through.

The shield shattered into fragments of black glass, scattering like ash on the wind. The beam kept going, searing a line across Malakor’s shoulder. Smoke curled from the wound, his armor cracked and hissing. For a split second, I thought I’d done it. I thought I’d actually hurt him.

Then my knees hit the stone.

The world tilted sideways. My hands were empty, the sword clattering to the ground beside me. I couldn’t feel my fingers. I couldn’t feel my legs. My entire body was a hollow shell, scraped clean of every drop of power. I tried to stand. My muscles refused the order. I was done.

Malakor touched his shoulder, his gauntleted fingers coming away wet with dark ichor.

He stared at the blood like it was a foreign object, something that didn’t belong. His head tilted slowly, his helmet turning toward me with the deliberate weight of a glacier. Then his gaze shifted past me. Past Leo, who was still struggling to his feet. Past the shattered arena floor.

Straight to the VIP box.

“You!”

The word was a thunderclap, shaking the stone beneath me. His voice was no longer casual or amused. It was fury given sound, a roar that rattled my teeth.

“You dare ignore me?! You sit there, silent as a corpse, while these insects bite at my heels?!”

He raised one armored hand, dark energy coiling around his fingers like living smoke. It twisted and writhed, condensing into a sphere the size of a wagon wheel. The air around it warped, bending inward as if reality itself was being sucked into the ball. The crowd gasped. Some screamed. The VIPs in the lower boxes scrambled for the exits.

“I will turn you to ash first, and then I will enjoy grinding these two into the dirt!”

He launched himself into the air.

The dark energy sphere pulsed, growing larger with every heartbeat. Malakor’s form blurred, his wings of shadow spreading wide as he rocketed toward the Judge’s box. The hooded figure didn’t move. They sat perfectly still, hands folded in their lap, as if a demonic warlord wasn’t about to vaporize them.

I tried to shout a warning.

My throat was too dry, my lungs too empty. All I could do was watch, helpless and spent, as Malakor closed the distance.

【Ise PoV】

The fly in my dream was getting really loud.

I was sitting at a sushi bar, one of those conveyor belt places where the little plates just keep coming. The chef was a grizzled old guy with kind eyes, and he kept sliding fresh nigiri my way. Salmon. Tuna. Something with eel that looked amazing. It was perfect. Peaceful. Quiet.

Then the fly showed up.

At first, it was just a buzz, a distant hum that I could ignore. But it got louder. And louder. It was screaming now, this high-pitched wail that didn’t belong in a sushi dream. I tried to wave it away, my hand cutting through the air in lazy arcs. The fly didn’t care. It kept coming, the noise drilling into my skull.

I could feel wind on my face.

Actual wind, not dream wind. It was warm and smelled like sulfur and burnt ozone. The sushi bar started to fade, the colors bleeding out like watercolor in the rain. The noise was unbearable now, a shriek that felt like it was splitting my head open. I was waking up. I didn’t want to wake up. I just wanted to eat my damn sushi.

I cracked one eye open.

A guy in spiky black armor was flying straight at me, screaming like a maniac. He had a massive ball of swirling darkness in his hands, and it was growing bigger by the second. The air around him rippled with heat and power. His helmet had horns. Actual horns. Who wears horns? The whole thing looked like a bad anime cosplay, the kind that tries way too hard.

Was this part of the show?

I blinked, my brain still half-asleep and struggling to catch up. The crowd was losing their minds, screaming and pointing. The other people in the VIP boxes were running. Leo and some other kid were down in the arena, looking like they’d just gone twelve rounds with a meat grinder. The spiky guy was maybe ten meters away now, close enough that I could see the cracks in his armor, the glow of his eyes behind the helmet.

He was so damn loud.

“Quiet down.”

I mumbled the words, my voice thick with sleep. My hand lifted on instinct, the same lazy wave I’d used to shoo the fly. I just wanted the noise to stop. I wanted to go back to the sushi bar. I wanted five more minutes.

The ball of dark energy hit something.

It didn’t hit me. It hit the air in front of me, an invisible wall I didn’t know was there. The sphere compressed, folding in on itself like a crushed soda can. The darkness shrank, smaller and smaller, until it was the size of a marble. Then it just… popped. A soft sound, like a soap bubble bursting. The shockwave from the collision didn’t even ruffle my hood.

Malakor froze mid-air.

His wings flared wide, his entire body going rigid. He hung there, suspended like a puppet with cut strings. His head tilted down, looking at his empty hands. Then he looked at me. I could feel his gaze even through the helmet, a weight that pressed against my skin. The arena went dead silent. Even the wind stopped.

I yawned.

My jaw cracked, and I stretched my arms over my head, feeling my spine pop in a satisfying line. Man, that had been a good nap. A little short, maybe, but the dream was solid. I’d have to find a real sushi place later. I lowered my arms and finally focused on the scene in front of me.

Spiky armor guy was still floating there, staring at me like I’d just grown a second head. Down in the arena, Leo was on his knees, his mouth hanging open. The other kid, the one with the broken sword, looked like he was about to pass out. The crowd was a sea of frozen faces, eyes wide, breaths held.

“Uh… did I miss something?”

My voice echoed in the silence, way louder than I meant it to be. Malakor’s wings twitched. He took a slow, deliberate breath, his chest plate rising and falling. Then he did something I didn’t expect.

He landed.

Not in front of me. Down in the arena, his boots hitting the stone with a heavy thud that cracked the ground beneath him. He straightened slowly, his gaze never leaving me. The dark energy around him flickered and died, the oppressive weight of his power pulling back like a tide. He stood there, perfectly still, and then he did the most bizarre thing.

He bowed.

Not a little nod. A full, deep bow, one arm across his chest, his horned helmet dipping low. The crowd collectively lost their minds. Screams, gasps, people fainting in the stands. I just stared, my brain still half-asleep and completely failing to process what was happening.

“Forgive my ignorance, Great One.”

His voice was quiet now, respectful, almost reverent. It was the polar opposite of the roaring maniac from thirty seconds ago.

“I did not recognize your presence. The match is yours. I yield.”

He straightened, turned on his heel, and walked toward the arena exit. His footsteps echoed in the silence, steady and unhurried. The crowd parted for him like he was on fire. He disappeared into the tunnel, and just like that, he was gone.

I sat there, blinking.

What the hell just happened?

Down in the arena, Leo finally found his voice.

“Master…?”

Oh no.

That word hit me like a bucket of ice water. Master. He said it loud enough for the whole stadium to hear. Heads turned. Thousands of eyes locked onto me, the hooded figure in the Judge’s box. I could feel the weight of their stares, the sudden, suffocating attention. My face went hot under the hood.

This was bad.

This was really, really bad.

I stood up slowly, my legs stiff from sitting too long. My mind raced, trying to figure out how to salvage this. Maybe I could just walk away. Pretend I didn’t hear him. Blame it on the wind. Yeah, that could work. I took a step toward the exit.

“Master, wait!”

Leo’s voice cracked with desperation. He was struggling to stand, one hand pressed to his ribs, his face pale and streaked with blood. The other kid, Jin, was staring at me like I was a ghost. The crowd was starting to murmur, a low rumble of confused voices building into a roar of speculation.

I stopped.

My hand was on the doorframe, my escape route right there. But something in Leo’s voice made me hesitate. He sounded scared. Not of me, but for me. Like he thought I was about to vanish and leave him alone in this mess. I sighed, long and heavy, and turned back around.

The murmuring stopped.

Every eye in the Colosseum was on me. I could feel the weight of their expectations, their fear, their awe. I reached up and pulled back my hood, letting it fall to my shoulders. My face was exposed now, plain and unremarkable. Just a guy in his thirties with messy hair and tired eyes.

The silence was deafening.

Then someone in the crowd screamed. Not in fear. In recognition. The sound rippled outward, spreading like wildfire. People started dropping to their knees, their heads bowed. Others just stared, their faces pale and slack with shock. A few of the VIPs fainted outright, collapsing into their seats.

Leo was crying.

Actual tears were streaming down his face, his expression a mix of relief and overwhelming joy. Jin looked like he was about to throw up. The announcer, a portly man in gaudy robes, was frozen at his podium, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

I just wanted to go back to sleep.