Zareck had done it.
The moment the pressure inside his body stabilized, where the agony dulled into something distant, he knew.
He had broken through.
A laugh burst from his chest before he could stop it. It was wild and cracked and filled with disbelief. He laughed like someone who had stared death in the face and somehow walked away should. His body trembled as the sound tore out of him, half joy, half madness.
"I did it," he muttered, then louder, "I did it!"
Malichi staggered toward him, eyes wide, his own exhaustion forgotten for a heartbeat. Then he laughed too, sharp and incredulous, shaking his head as if the sight before him made no sense at all.
"You absolute lunatic," Malichi said, still laughing. "I can't believe it."
Zareck straightened despite the sourness screaming through every inch of him. His body felt different now. Denser. Like every movement carried more weight and authority.
Without thinking, he moved.
He struck.
Not with full force. Not even close. But the speed and strength behind the blow were undeniable.
Malichi reacted instantly, meeting him with his own strike. Their fists collided and the impact cracked through the air like thunder.
Zareck felt it clearly.
He had won the exchange.
Malichi skidded back several steps, boots scraping against stone. He stopped himself, stared at his hands, then up at Zareck. Slowly, he raised his palms.
"That's it," Malichi said, breathing hard. "My loss."
Then he laughed again, breathless and sharp.
"You fucking madman."
Zareck grinned, blood running down his chin.
But before either of them could say another word, the world collapsed.
A pressure descended.
Absolute.
It pressed down on Zareck like the Heavens itself had decided to crush him.
His knees buckled instantly. His newly strengthened body meant nothing. He slammed face first into the stone floor, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. He tried to breathe and failed. His chest refused to expand. Every attempt felt like inhaling through stone.
His vision blurred.
He forced one eye open.
Floating toward him was Elder Grigs.
The man's expression was no longer restrained. No longer masked by authority or discipline. His eyes burned with naked greed and intent.
Malichi reacted instantly.
He stepped in front of Zareck, spreading his arms wide.
"What are you doing," Malichi demanded. "This is over. The fight is finished."
Grigs' face twisted.
"You have already spoken against me once today," he snarled. "You dare do it again."
He waved his hand.
Malichi was thrown backward like a ragdoll.
Thirty paces.
He slammed into the ground, rolled, and came to a stop in a heap.
Zareck tried to move.
His body did not respond.
From his position on the ground, he could barely turn his head. Through the haze of crushing pressure, he saw the rest of the arena.
Marrionette stood among the elders, her face pale and tight. The others beside her looked away, ashamed or conflicted. None stepped forward.
Beyond them, the cultivation instructors held back the remaining students. Fear and awe were written plainly across their faces.
Zareck's vision somehow found Will.
Will was screaming.
Tears streamed down his face as he fought against the instructors restraining him. His face looked distraught, filled with panic.
Zareck wanted to tell him it was fine.
He could not speak.
Grigs descended until he hovered directly above him.
The pressure intensified.
Zareck felt something tear inside his chest. Blood filled his mouth again.
"Boy," Grigs said, his voice calm in the way only true malice could be. "Tell me where your cultivation manual is. I want to see it."
Zareck's thoughts swam.
"What," he rasped.
Grigs' expression darkened.
"Do not lie to me, brat," he snapped. "The Hans Flower Manual cannot allow what you just did. Tell me now where it is."
Understanding crept in.
Slow and cold.
He wanted Thy Image of Zenith.
Zareck's heart pounded.
He did not want to give it up.
Before he could answer, a voice echoed in his mind.
One he knew far too well.
Tell him it was a gift from your grandfather.
Zareck froze.
Old man Krab.
Shock nearly overwhelmed him, but instinct took over. He swallowed blood and forced the words out.
"My grandfather gave it to me," Zareck said hoarsely. "As a gift."
Grigs hesitated.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Then his face twisted with fury.
He moved.
Zareck never saw the strike coming.
A blur of motion and then pain exploded across his face. His head snapped to the side as something popped in his ear. Warm liquid poured from his nose and mouth. He felt teeth crack loose. His vision went red as blood vessels burst in his eye.
"Did I ask where you got it from," Grigs roared. "I asked where it is!"
The greed in his voice was undeniable now. Open and Ugly.
Zareck tasted iron.
He could barely think.
Through his blurred vision, he saw a sword appear in Grigs' hand. The blade shimmered with deadly intent as it was raised.
Then there was the sound of wind.
A presence.
Suddenly, the pressure vanished.
Zareck gasped, lungs finally drawing in air as if he had been drowning.
A figure hovered between him and Grigs.
Old man Krab.
His posture was relaxed. Almost lazy. One hand tucked behind his back, the other raised casually.
Grigs reacted instantly, swinging the sword down.
Krab caught it.
Two fingers.
The blade stopped dead between them.
The sound echoed across the arena.
The elders appeared in a flash, surrounding the two figures in a tight circle. Cultivation instructors froze where they stood. The students stared, frozen in terror.
Krab looked at the sword between his fingers with mild interest.
Then he looked at Grigs.
"You know," Krab said calmly, "you should not draw your blade unless you are truly prepared to use it."
He released the sword.
Grigs staggered back, eyes wide.
Then Krab let his aura show.
Zareck felt it wash over him like a tide.
It was not crushing.
It was not violent.
It simply was.
And it dwarfed everything.
The expressions around the arena changed instantly. Elders paled. Instructors trembled. Grigs' face drained of colour entirely, sweat beading across his brow as fear overtook greed.
Krab's gaze never left him.
"Are you," Krab asked softly, "prepared to use it."
Silence consumed the arena.
And in that silence, everyone understood.
They had just witnessed something far greater than a breakthrough.
They had witnessed the beginning of something dangerous.