Kano stood at the edge of the bastion—a half-built tower that overlooked the southern pass.
His friend—genius, eccentric pillar—had just left the city. He went alone, without farewells, with no plan to return.
Broken brick cracked beneath Kano's boots; nearby, a taut rope was strung with dwarven blueprints.
Far below, orcish hammers droned; the dwarves were brewing something; all around lay an unfamiliar hush.
Not even birds. As if the world itself… had frozen with him.
"Why is it always someone else hauling me up while I just hang on? Why are all my victories not mine?"
Memories snapped out like blows:
— Selina tending him after the battle…
— Elgot pulling him from the arena…
— The orcs believing in him more than he does…
—"I… a burden," a muffled cry tore from his chest.
Something around him shifted. The air seemed to grow heavier.
A fire ignited in his chest—wild, raw, searing.
Suddenly Kano squared his shoulders and rose.
In his eyes—no inspiration, but despair honed into a blade.
—"ENOUGH! THAT'S IT!" he shouted, his voice slicing the space between the unfinished towers.
—"I will become impossibly strong! I will surpass everything you expect! I will surpass myself!"
Even the orcs with hammers in the camp went still.
A few dwarves peered out from behind the hanging bridge, trading startled looks.
On the square before the citadel, Selina appeared. Her dress was dusted with powder—she'd just been helping stack crates of potions.
—"Kano?!" she cried, astonished. —"What happened? Why are you shouting?"
Kano turned slowly. He wore no armor—only cloth clinging to his chest, and on his back a silvery mithril sword—forged by the dwarves for him alone.
—"I will become the strongest, Selina. And you… will help me do it."
His voice—hard, almost a blade.
This was no request. It was the beginning of a new path.
Kano was still on the bastion's edge when something flipped inside him.
His resolve—no heroics, but the fire of pain seeking a way out.
He turned, went down the stone steps, passed through a half-built arch, and stepped onto the platform where several orcs and dwarves were fixing new beams to the future watchtower.
—"Grimtar!" he called, a voice that cut the silence.
From the shadow of the works, as if he'd known he would be summoned, a thickset warrior emerged. His body was like bronze—dark-brown skin stretched over muscle, scored with a few scars. In his face—iron discipline; in his eyes—loyalty.
—"Chieftain, I'm here," Grimtar replied tersely, taking his place opposite.
Kano stepped closer.
—"I need a hundred of the best High Orcs. Take them beyond the city, fully armed."
Grimtar didn't ask questions.
—"As you command," he said, dipping his head in respect. Then he turned and moved off, his steps heavy as war-drums before a battle.
Kano remained where he was. Wind from the fields stirred the little flags the dwarves had tied to the scaffolding.
Footsteps—he turned.
Selina was hurrying toward him, the light fabric of her dress catching on beams, her gaze full of worry.
—"Kano… what are you planning?" she asked, catching her breath.
—"Bring Elgot," he said without lifting his eyes. —"And… go with him. We're heading out beyond the walls."
Selina looked lost.
—"You're scaring me. What's happening?"
Kano glanced at her—briefly—and it was enough. She saw: he was serious. Dangerously serious.
His eyes no longer shone with naivety or humor—only the dry resolve of someone who had stopped pitying himself.
—"Just do it, please," he whispered.
Selina searched him once more, as if trying to find the Kano she knew, but saw only a new shell.
And she nodded.
—"Alright. I'll find him."
She ran toward the dwarven workshops—the place Elgot always haunted between Kano's lessons.
Kano was alone.
He slowly laid his hand on the hilt of his sword.
He felt the familiar tremor of cold mithril.
Not a gift. Not a fluke. A choice. A recognition.
—"From now on, everything's different," he whispered, and moved toward the gate.
On the wall that looked out over the southern gates stood Lianel.
Her gaze was fixed on Kano's figure, walking unhurriedly toward the main gate.
The sun gilded the massive walls—perfect, fortified, hewn from dark stone and drenched in wards. Not a crack, not a scratch to recall the horde that once raged here. It was the greatest work of dwarves and orcs, and every stone spoke in silence: "We stand. We are unbreakable."
But Kano… wasn't.
—"What is he doing?.." Lianel whispered, dropping lightly down to land beside Naira, who sat calmly by the wall with her battle-axe resting on her shoulder.
—"He's up to something," Lianel muttered. —"Do you see it?"
—"I see," Naira answered. —"And I can feel it."
Her voice turned low, serious. —"If this is because of my brother's words... I won't leave it be."
—"You think he's at the edge?"
—"I think he's crossed it."
Naira rose, shoulders powerful as granite, eyes lit with that predatory clarity she had only before a fight. The axe clicked in her hand.
—"Are we going after him?" Lianel asked.
Naira didn't answer with words. She was already striding forward.
Atop the central tower sat Revana, wrapped in a dark-gray cloak. She perched on the parapet's edge like a stork watching the fields.
Her gaze was calm, but her eyes held a faint spark of interest.
—"Something's about to happen," she whispered to herself. —"He'll either break, or he'll take off. Or he'll break something else."
Smooth as a shadow, Revana rose and stepped to the narrow ladder of the watchtower, where the plain beyond the city spread in full view.
—"And I want to see it first."
The sun was already lifting over the horizon when the city's main gates opened.
On the plain before the fortifications, a hundred High Orcs formed up in silence—every one in full battle kit, each bearing two kinds of weapons: one for attack, the other for defense.
Their dark-brown skin gleamed in the morning light.
They stood calm, almost impassive, yet the power rolling off them beat like surf against a cliff before a storm.
Beside them stood Elgot Belatras, the usual tired but attentive look on his face. In his eyes was a mixed response: understanding, and worry.
Nearby—Selina, who kept flicking glances at Kano, trying to read his intent.
Kano stood before them all, bare to the waist, the sword on his back. His gaze—lowered.
Not a trace of a smile. Not a trace of doubt.
He drew a deep breath, lifted his head, and spoke:
—"Elgot. Raise a barrier over us. So that no one can get out… and nothing can fly out."
The mage raised an eyebrow.
—"You want… an arena?"
—"Exactly," Kano answered, firm.
—"Kano," Elgot leaned a little closer. —"What are you planning, boy?"
Kano clenched his fists.
—"I can't do this anymore. I am a burden. Every fight, every victory… happened not thanks to me, but in spite of me. I should have become strong long ago. Instead, I just cling to others. And enough."
—"From this moment on, I will become who I was meant to be."