A scream finally tore from Ken's throat. It wasn't loud, but it came out against his will. His hands refused to give in. He raised them with effort, his palms aimed at the snake coiling around his neck. Then the spark came.
A red glow enveloped his hands, and fire burst out all at once, igniting from his skin and searing the snake's flesh viciously. The serpent shrieked for the first time, a sharp alien cry thrashing wildly.
The more it writhed, the tighter it constricted. Smoke and fiery heat rose between Ken's skin and the creature's scales. The stench of burning flesh filled the air. Ken's pulse pounded. Zerov's unmoving stare turned the arena from a test into an execution ground.
Whispers swept the crowd. Some covered their mouths, others stared in disbelief. None expected to see Yukaji Ken choking on the floor.
Ken was drowning in pain. His vision blurred, his chest heaved desperately for air, and his fingers trembled. Light faded from his sight. It looked like the end… but he refused to let it end here.
'Is this the end for me… like this?'
'How idiot I am. I didn't read his movement right… I didn't calculate the snake's timing…'
'It's like being that child again… watching the fire devour my home, doing nothing.'
'If I die now, nothing will change. Cirrus will laugh in his palace, my name will be forgotten, my goal will be erased in a meaningless arena.'
'But I'm not ready to be forgotten yet…'
'No one will take my path from me. Not ever!'
He clenched his fists as if his veins burned from inside. Then, he moved suddenly. Violently. Instinctively. He grabbed the snake with both hands though his body that was screamed in pain, and pulled it from his neck as if he's tearing death itself away.
The serpent roared, twisting in agony before being flung several meters back. It hit the ground hard, its scales scorched and trembling.
Ken dropped to his knees, gasping like a beast that had just clawed its way out of hell. There was no blood, but inside him, there was something called will. He stod up slowly, groaning, his eyes regained their sharpness.
Akio shouted suddenly, leaping up with boyish excitement, and waving his hand:
"Nice one, Ken! You can do it! Show them who you are!"
Some heads turned, but Ken didn't. He heard Akio's voice but ignored it, and kept his focus locked on his opponent. His hand brushed the burn marks on his neck.
Zerov didn't wait. He advanced, launching another volley of poisoned needles straight at Ken's chest, exploiting his moment of weakness.
But Ken, despite his labored breathing, exploded into motion no one expected. He dived to the side, rolling swiftly across the ground, dodging the incoming barrage.
Dust burst around him as he moved. He reached his fallen sword, seized it, and spun around to face the next wave of needles.
They clashed against his blade, one after another, the metallic rhythm echoing like a deadly rain. Each deflection steadied his movements, his body is remembering how to fight and how to survive.
When the last needle fell, Ken didn't wait. He surged forward, his flaming sword nearly bursting apart with power. His steps were like a storm, carrying fury and intent.
Then, in a flash, the serpent lunged before Zerov like a living shield. It stopped him, but with a cost. The blazing sword pierced through its body. The attack wasn't meant for it, but the timing made it deadly. The fire roared through its flesh, and the serpent was screamed so sharply. The ground itself trembled.
Rage boiled through Zerov's veins until his dark skin seemed to glow from the heat. His eyes widened, his mouth twisted into madness as he screamed:
"Damn you! Damn all the Yukaji! Cowardly dogs! You'll burn! Burn in your own flames!"
His voice fell into chaos. He no longer saw Ken, only ghosts of the past, every insult, every wound. His mind snapped. What remained was a beast of wounded pride, lashing out blindly.
Ken watched his collapse without emotion. No triumph. No pity. Only cold stillness. Inside, a quiet thought surfaced:
'Everything is going as I planned… He hasn't seen anything yet.'
An enraged foe stops reading the battlefield. This was the moment Ken had been waiting for, the second when the hunter becomes the prey without realizing it.
He planted his feet, angled his sword into the ground. Not to strike, but to ignite.
Then, he said with a calm voice:
"Fire Vakin — Inferno Abyss."
The stone floor cracked. A line of red light streaked forward faster than sight, roaring beneath Zerov's feet.
A second later, it erupted. Fire surged upward like a starving volcano. Zerov's scream tore through the arena, joined by the serpent's dying cry. The flames showed no mercy, devouring armor, flesh, and pride alike, until even the earth seemed to burn in judgment.
Even then, Zerov tried to stand. His burned body trembled as he pushed himself up, as if his will refused to accept defeat. But his muscles betrayed him. He collapsed again, kneeling amid the debris, screaming from a break that could never heal.
A silence followed his cry. Then the director's voice thundered across the arena:
"The Winner is: Yukaji Ken."
The crowd erupted. Cheers and applause filled the air, some were chanting Ken's name, others shouting in pure excitement, while Akio jumped in his place, waving his arms as if he's cheering for an old friend.
Amid this noise, Ken raised his hand calmly, snapped his fingers, and the fire stopped instantly. The flames disappeared from both fighters bodies as if its obeying their master. His eyes shifted towards Zerov, and a faint smile appeared on his face. Not of joy. Not of mockery. But for earned victory.
Ken left the arena with steady confident steps, ignoring the countless eyes on him, and sat once more on his stone seat. Akio didn't hesitate; he ran towards him with wide excited eyes, like a child meeting his hero for the first time.
He stopped right in front of him and said with a bright voice:
"Hey, you! You were amazing out there! That last move you did was incredible!"
Ken didn't stop walking. He only cast a short sideways glance and replied in a cold low tone:
"Shut up. Who even are you?"
One sentence froze Akio's excitement, but only for a moment. He smiled again as if nothing happened. When Ken finally sat, resting his elbows on his knees, he looked up slowly and found Akio still standing there, with the same unwavering grin on his face.
Ken's tone turned sharp:
"Didn't you get it yet? You're standing in front of a killer. You'd better back off… are you idiot that much?"
Akio didn't move. Not because of his credulity, it was determination. Something invisible pulled him towards this red-haired boy, something he couldn't explain.
He took a small step forward, his eyes were shining with resolve:
"I don't care if you're a killer or not. I won't judge you by what others say. What I want… is to see your true self."
Ken's eyes widened slightly. His voice dropped:
"And why would you say that?"
Akio's smile softened, carrying something heavier beneath it:
"Because I know how it feels to be judged before anyone really sees you. In my city, they only saw me as a weird orphan. No one understood me… and I couldn't understand them either. That's why I came here… to find someone who could."
Ken stayed silent for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly.
"So you're trying to lump me in with the lonely orphans like you? Your first mistake is thinking we're similar."
He turned his head aside, as if Akio's presence itself grated on his ears. His voice was sharp but calm:
"I've never looked for anyone to understand me. I don't need someone to believe my story… not even you."
Yet, deep inside, a faint spark flickered in his eyes when Akio spoke, and some buried memory stirred against his will.
Akio's smile faded. He spoke quietly:
"I don't know what you've been through… but life doesn't end when someone you love dies. The future is still waiting for you."
Ken's body stiffened, not from pain, but from rage he couldn't contain. His eyes widened, cutting into Akio like blades.
"You talk like you understand something you've never lived. No one has the right to tell me how to handle the death of those I've lost. The future? It doesn't bring corpses back. It doesn't rebuild a burned home or a vanished face."
He stepped closer, his gaze was heavy:
"You say life doesn't stop? For me, it stopped a long time ago. What I'm living now isn't life… it's an open debt that hasn't been settled."
He turned his face away, ending the conversation with cold finality:
"Don't give me lectures. You're the last person I want to hear them from."
Akio stood silent. His own words struck him like a blade. His raised hand froze in the air, unsure what to do with it. A faint trace of sorrow crossed his face, a mixture of hurt and quiet disappointment he didn't try to hide.
Ken didn't look back. He stood up from the chair and walked away, as if their exchange was nothing but a background noise.
Akio was still remained, watching Ken's back fading on the distance, his eyes were searching for an answer he couldn't find.