The silence after the drums exploded did not last long.
In an instant, the ground burst beneath the malformed copy of Ashen. There was no scream or warning, just a sudden, primitive movement, like a predator lunging out of nothing. The earth cracked, a cloud of bloody dust rose like a thick red mist, and the malformed body leaped like an arrow at Ashen.
The attack was so brutal that the air tore from its force. A thick twisted arm swung in a downward arc, its fist like a rock covered in bloody thorns, its aim clear: to crush Ashen's head outright.
But Ashen was not a bystander. At the critical moment his body shuddered, and a strange dark aura spread over his skin. His skin darkened to an iron-black, hardening and renewing.
Primitive iron skin.
The blow landed.
The sound was like a giant hammer striking a steel boulder. Blood sparks flew from the impact, the air trembled around them, and the ground shattered beneath Ashen as he dragged his body back, holding on.
He felt a terrible pain run through his arm, but the iron skin absorbed the worst of it. Even as he slid backward leaving bloody marks on the ground, he stayed standing. His breaths were heavy, his eyes fixed, but his heart pounded violently as if trying to tear out of his chest.
"The power… terrifying…"
The thought was not an admission of defeat but an understanding that the malformed copy did not fight with skill but with raw, naked instinct and savagery, yet its strikes threatened to destroy him completely.
The enemy gave no time to think. It attacked again, this time with both fists together.
Ashen saw something familiar. Those fists were not ordinary; they were wrapped in a dense blood aura shaped like enormous bear arms.
The Blood Bear's Fist.
But it was not as he knew it. It was malformed, harsh, incomplete. The aura had not formed cleanly; it cracked and threw off strange bony spikes. Still, the force behind it was terrifying, so intense that the air roared around it like a bloody tornado.
The two blows met the air first, but the shockwave shattered the ground for tens of meters. Stacked bones in the arena floor flew like shrapnel, and the stagnant blood in the cracks sprayed like a red mist that filled the space between them.
Ashen did not hesitate. He let out a deep shout, and a new aura sprang around his legs.
Sky Leopard's Roar.
Suddenly his speed increased explosively. His feet left bloody marks on the ground, the air tore around his steps, as if he had become a bloody shadow flashing and vanishing in an instant.
He rushed at the enemy from the side and launched three blood chains with his hands.
The chains shot out of his body like living arteries, twisted and shining a dark crimson. Their sharp spear-like tips launched forward, attacking from different angles: one from above, one from the side, and a third aimed at the enemy's leg.
The malformed copy raised its arms to block the first chain, but the second sank into its shoulder, and the third pierced its thigh.
Blood burst from the wounds, but at the same moment… Ashen felt something wrong.
A sharp pain hit his shoulder and thigh in the exact places where his enemy was wounded. He looked at his body and saw blood flowing from wounds identical to the ones the enemy had taken.
"What…?"
Lightning struck his mind. "Every wound it gets… is a wound I get."
The malformed copy did not show pain. On the contrary, it smiled a twisted smile. It grabbed the chains stuck in its body and pulled them with savage force, forcing Ashen closer.
Their bodies collided violently, and the copy raised its arm to deliver a killing blow.
Ashen barely managed to raise his arm to take the hit, but the result was devastating.
The enemy's fist fell on his iron skin and sent a lethal shock through his bones. The blow pierced his defenses, broke his balance, and made blood explode from his mouth. At the same time, the copy suffered a scratch on its arm from the friction… but Ashen felt the same wound erupt on his own arm.
The recoil was deadly.
"Fighting like this…" "How can I win?"
Pain wrapped around him like chains, strangling every part of his body. Every attack, every injury, even a small scratch… all returned to him. This was not just a physical fight but a true trial measuring not only his physical strength but his will, awareness, and ability to face himself.
In a short pause while he broke away from his foe gasping, Ashen felt the whole world shrink. The drums beat again slowly, a cold mocking rhythm. The hanging coffins swung as if laughing at him. The giant tombs looked like stands filled with crowds of the dead watching him.
He looked at his enemy… at his malformed self.
"This… is not just an enemy." "It is me… everything inside me of blood, regret, and savagery has taken form before me."
The awareness of the catastrophe began to settle in his mind. He did not only have to fight to kill; he had to fight knowing that every wound he inflicted was also inflicted on himself.
He took a deep breath, his blood boiling, his eyes flashing with a mad gleam.
"Very well…" "If this is my trial… then I will drown in it to the end."