The abomination's multiple eyes turned at once, locking onto Noel only after the last scraps of its former comrades vanished into the gaping maw in its torso. Blue vapor curled from its mandibles, drifting into the night air. The rooftop was slick with gore, the faint wet sounds of settling flesh echoing around him. Noel didn't hesitate. Rage and resolve collapsed into a single, cold point. He stepped forward—and then he was already there.
He moved exactly as Arthur once had. No killing intent. No sound. No warning.
The air cracked.
A deafening boom tore across the rooftop as Noel broke through the sound barrier, his blade already buried deep in the creature's hanging head. Steel punched through softened skull and rotting flesh with a sickening crunch. For a moment, everything stood still.
Then the abomination screamed.
The creature wailed—a piercing, inhuman cry that tore through the night like shredding metal—its pale eyes bulging as viscous tears leaked down and sizzled against the tiles. It thrashed in place, the sound collapsing into a broken, guttural sob as its gaze locked onto Noel, hunger and pain burning together inside those lidless orbs. Even wounded, it looked at him with undiminished hatred.
Noel backstepped and tore his blade free, black ichor spraying across the rooftop as Steady Footing held him firm against the trembling stone. His boar ears twitched once, then stilled, his focus narrowing entirely on the wound he had just inflicted. By all rights, it should have been over. That was a clean headshot.
Noel's voice came out low. "That should've ended you."
The wound itself did not heal. The split flesh inside its skull remained exactly as he had carved it, but new flesh began swelling over it, spilling outward in layers of twitching growth that covered the damage without restoring it. His blessing still held true—the injury remained unhealable—but the creature simply buried it beneath newly formed tissue, replacing what was lost instead of healing it.
The wound was still there. It was just hidden.
It wasn't healing. "It's not healing. It's covering the damage, that I do to it." Noel's jaw tightened "Cover it all you want. I'll keep cutting you till you die."
Before he could fully reposition, the abomination struck. Its elongated tongue lashed out from the split ruin of its original head, snapping through the air like a barbed whip with terrifying speed. The moment it moved, Noel felt it—decay clinging to the attack like poison given form, something foul that promised to rot whatever it touched. The tongue carved across his vision from left to right, aiming to tear him open in a single, brutal sweep.
Noel raised his great shield on instinct, barely intercepting the strike in time. The impact slammed into the thick metal with crushing force, the shock racing up his arm and detonating through his nerves like lightning. His fingers went numb instantly, sensation draining away as though his hand had been replaced with dead weight, while the sheer force of the blow drove him half a step backward. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to hold, muscles straining as the abomination's strength pressed against him.
The creature didn't stop. The tongue recoiled and came down again, hammering into the rooftop in front of him hard enough to crater the stone, shards exploding upward in a violent spray. Noel barely adjusted in time before it swept again from the opposite direction, smashing into his shield once more and driving him back a half step. His arm trembled under the strain. He heard something inside it crack.
Noel hissed through his teeth. "Still standing. Good."
Strong Defense held, but it didn't spare him the force. The shock drove deep into his muscles, bruising them from within, and his tightening grip split the skin of his palm, blood slicking the hilt of his shield as the abomination pressed him onto the defensive.
Noel shook off the haze, his vision sharpening with controlled fury, but the abomination reared up with terrifying momentum, raising both elongated claws high before swiping outward in a wide, sweeping arc that cleaved the air with whistling force.
Noel leaped back, his enhanced agility barely carrying him clear, but the talons still clipped the edge of his greatshield, the glancing blow sending a heavy shock through his arm again and forcing him to stagger. His shoulder throbbed from the impact, a deep bruise already forming beneath his skin.
The creature pressed forward relentlessly, its right claw rising before slamming down like a falling pillar. Noel sidestepped, the strike smashing into the rooftop and cratering the stone, cracks racing outward beneath his boots. The left claw followed immediately in a vicious horizontal sweep. He raised his shield and blocked it head-on.
The impact rang out violently, pain cracking through his arm as the force drove straight into his bones. Strong Defense held, but blood still welled from his palm where his grip tore open under the strain. He countered instantly, slashing across the creature's hardened arm and carving a deep gash through its flesh, ichor spraying into the air—yet even as he watched, those damned cells writhed and multiplied, replacing the damaged tissue in seconds.
The abomination pivoted with unnatural agility for its bulk, sensing his momentary weakness, it unleashed its claw sweep—a low, dragging motion that scraped across the rooftop like a plow through earth, aiming to hook his legs from the side. Noel, positioned just off to the right, backpedaled, but the talons still raked his calf in a shallow graze, decay burning like acid as his flesh sizzled and blackened. He suppressed a growl, the pain sharpening his focus into something deadly and cold, his confidence narrowing to a blade's edge.
The beast twisted away from his retaliatory strike, its backhand swipe coming in a sudden blur. The reverse claw slammed square into his shield before he could fully brace, the force transferring through the metal and into his arm. The impact hurled him back several paces, his boots scraping against the rooftop as his arm went completely numb.
His fingers trembled uncontrollably. Blood trickled from his nose, as the shock rattled his insides.
For the first time, doubt flickered. This thing was stronger and faster than it looked.
A Level 3–4 horror born of forbidden alchemy. And he was feeling every blow.
Noel exhaled. "I can't afford mistakes here."
Rage built in its many eyes as the abomination screeched again, rearing up for a double claw lunge. Both arms rose high, joints creaking like breaking timber, before slamming down in unison with enough force to quake the entire rooftop. Noel dodged backward into a roll, but the shockwave still caught him, sending him tumbling as tiles shattered beneath him.
His back slammed against the stone. The air was driven from his lungs as pain flared through his ribs.
The left claw followed immediately in a vicious horizontal swipe, and he barely managed to bring his shield up in time. The impact rang through his body once more, the force jarring his frame and blurring his vision as his arm screamed in protest. He forced himself forward anyway, retaliating with a flurry of strikes, his sword carving precise arcs across the creature's torso and mandibles, chipping bone and drawing sprays of blue-tinged blood.
The creature wailed. Its cells writhed and multiplied, replacing the damaged tissue in seconds.
The wounds remained beneath the newly formed tissue. But it kept fighting.
I know this bastard's taking damage but I just can't prove it.
The fight intensified as the abomination lifted its entire body, rising onto its hind limbs for a crushing stomp. It came down with earth-shattering force, the impact sending violent tremors through the rooftop again, as the structure groaned in protest. Cracks split open beneath Noel's feet, spreading rapidly as tiles buckled and fell away into the darkness below.
Noel dodged sideways, but the shockwave caught him mid-step. Even with Steady Footing, his balance faltered.
He stumbled, a sharp fragment of debris slicing across his brow as blood spilled into his eye, blurring his vision. Through the haze, the abomination loomed over him, its massive form casting a suffocating shadow, its mandibles clacking just inches from his face. The stench of it washed over him, foul and suffocating, close enough that he could feel its breath.
He rolled away at the last possible moment. The creature slammed down again like a falling meteor.
The rooftop collapsed under the impact, the center giving way entirely as stone and timber caved inward. As Noel caught himself near the edge, he saw what lay beneath—a vast circular chamber hidden below the mansion, its floor ringed by walls of ancient stone, unmistakably a coliseum where Sophie and her kind had their victims fight and die for amusement.
The abomination's tongue whipped out again in a savage combo, slamming down first and cratering the weakening roof before sweeping left to right in a brutal arc. Noel blocked both strikes, but the decay ate deeper into his shield, corrosive burns spreading across his forearm as flesh peeled away in agonizing layers. His arm trembled violently, blood flowing freely now, the numbness completely replaced by searing pain.
He forced himself forward anyway. His sword drove into the creature's maw.
The mandibles snapped shut around his hand, piercing through his Strong Defense just enough to draw blood before he tore himself free. The beast retaliated instantly, claws slamming and sweeping in rapid succession, forcing him into desperate parries and blocks as shockwaves tore through his already damaged body.
Each clash widened the fractures beneath his feet. The rooftop was becoming a collapsing web.
Its blows were landing harder now, his body was accumulating damage that even his endurance couldn't fully shrug off.
Control was slipping. The abomination was dictating the pace.
As the abomination roared and launched into its triple combo—swiping, slamming, and sweeping in a distance-closing frenzy—Noel met it with grim determination. He parried the initial swipe, his sword arm screaming in protest, then blocked the slam with his shield, the impact cracking against it under the strain. He dodged the final sweep by a hair length, his injured leg buckling beneath him as the claws tore past.
He forced himself to answer. He swung upward.
His blade cleaved into the creature's arched spine, biting deep enough to stagger it, but only for a moment. The beast answered with a fury slam, its entire body crashing down with apocalyptic force.
The rooftop could not endure it any longer. The structure finally gave way.
Stone and timber collapsed beneath them in a deafening roar as the entire section buckled, and Noel fell with it, plunging into the void alongside the abomination while debris rained down around them like stony hail.
Noel twisted mid-fall and forced his body upright, slamming into the coliseum's sandy arena with a jarring thud as Steady Footing and Kick Off, absorbing most—but not all—of the impact. Pain exploded through him anyway, his ribs cracking audibly as blood surged into his mouth. He spat it out, his vision swimming as he struggled to stay standing.
Noel muttering to himself. "I don't know how I'm even alive. But as long as I draw breath, ill continue the fight"
It followed him down. It hit the floor harder.
The abomination crashed into the arena in a violent eruption of dust and shattered stone, its immense weight cracking the ancient flagstones beneath it. The entire structure groaned from the force, sand and debris cascading across the floor as the echoes of its landing rolled through the cavernous space.
The arena revealed itself in full. It was a pit built for suffering.
Rusted chains hung from the walls, and empty spectator boxes loomed above in dead silence as torches sputtered to life, their light revealing a place steeped in old violence. Noel rose slowly to face it, his shield arm hanging limp and useless while his sword remained clenched in his bloodied hand, his entire body a map of bruises, burns, and open wounds. Across from him, the abomination pushed itself upright, its ruined flesh already being buried beneath new growth, its many eyes gleaming with cruel triumph.
Noel opened his mouth and roared, "COME AT ME, YOU FUCKER!"
The battle raged across the coliseum floor, the abomination chaining its attacks in relentless succession. Backhand swipes crashed into Noel's shield, each impact sending fractures deeper into his bones, while crushing leg stomps shook the sand beneath his feet and forced him to retreat on legs that grew weaker with every passing second. Body slams followed, close enough that even when he avoided them, the shockwaves still tore through him, rattling his ribs and stealing the breath from his lungs.
He struck back whenever he found an opening, his sword biting deep and carving chunks from its limbs, but the creature's grotesque body replaced the damage in seconds, new flesh swelling over the wounds as if trying to erase the fact it had ever been harmed. Every exchange took something from him. A claw tore across his side, leaving decay to fester inside the wound, while a vicious tongue strike slammed into his shield and numbed his entire arm, forcing him to shift his grip and fight one-handed.
A double lunge came next, fast enough to nearly impale him where he stood, and though he managed to catch it with a perfect guard, the impact still drove him back, blood spilling from his mouth as his strength faltered. Doubt crept in.
The torture chamber flashed through his mind—the chains, the broken bodies, the screams—and now that same horror stood in front of him, given flesh and form, its existence itself a mockery of life. It pressed forward without hesitation, without mercy, as if certain it would devour him the same way it had devoured the others.
Could he actually kill it?
Or would he die here like the rest?
Noel's confidence didn't fade. It hardened into something cold and dangerous as he circled, each breath ragged and uneven, his body screaming at him to stop. His eyes never left the abomination's core—or what he believed was its core—the hanging head and the gaping maw beneath it, where everything seemed to converge. Again and again, he forced his blade into that point, ignoring the pain tearing through his arms, ignoring the blood he could feel running down his body. And slowly, finally, the endless replacement began to falter, the frantic overgrowth no longer keeping pace with the death his blade carved into it.
In a final, grueling push, he dodged a fury slam by inches, forced his broken body forward, and leaped onto the beast's back despite the agony tearing through his muscles. With a roar, he drove his sword through the core and twisted, severing the vital mass holding it together.
The creature thrashed violently, its wail collapsing into something broken and uneven as its cells failed to replace the damage fast enough. Death had finally taken hold.
It collapsed in a heaving ruin, blue vapor spilling into the air as its massive frame gave out—but not before one final claw lashed out, tearing across Noel's chest and leaving behind a deep, festering wound as decay burned through the flesh like venom.
Noel staggered back and dropped to one knee, blood pooling beneath him in the sand.
His entire body trembled, wounds refusing to close under the lingering corruption, his mind still echoing with the sounds of suffering from the torture chamber above. He forced himself to breathe, forced himself to remain conscious, even as darkness clawed at the edges of his vision.
He rose unsteadily. His shield was gone. His sword felt heavier than ever before.
While Noel was deciding to leave
Behind him, something moved. The abomination's corpse convulsed.
Its massive frame began to twitch, leathery hide bulging outward as the flesh split open along its torso with a series of wet, rupturing tears. The body peeled apart from within, blue-veined tissue stretching and snapping as something forced its way free.
A humanoid arm burst through first.
Then another.
The captain clawed his way out of the carcass.
His original body emerged from the abomination's remains, still fused at the spine, still tethered by cords of pulsating flesh, his scarred face twisted into pure, unfiltered hatred. The monstrous bulk remained attached behind him, partially collapsed but still alive, its ruined limbs twitching, its jaws spasming as the captain dragged it forward like a grotesque second body.
He held his longsword in one hand. the blade glowing.
The captain's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile—too much pain, too much hatred twisted into it. His voice crawled out of both throats at once, human and monster layered together.
"You killed it. Good. You did me a favor." He dragged the fused bulk behind him like a puppet master half-merged with his puppet. "Do you know how long I've been in there? Trapped. Watching. Feeling everything it felt while it wore my body like a suit."
Noel said nothing. His sword rose.
"Filthy beast…" he rasped.
His voice echoed from both mouths.
"You'll die screaming."
Noel's body was in ruin. His shield arm hung useless at his side, blistered and trembling from the decay, while his chest lay torn open in jagged gashes that burned with every breath he forced into his lungs. Blood soaked through his fur and dripped down his frame, warm and slick, each step threatening to give out beneath him as the pain mounted and his strength bled away with it.
The sand beneath his feet clung to him, sticking to open wounds and torn flesh, grinding into him with every staggered movement. His sword dragged at his side, its tip carving an unsteady line through the arena floor as he forced himself to remain standing, Steady Footing the only thing keeping him from collapsing outright. The air tasted like iron and rot, thick with the aftermath of violence, filling his lungs with the reality of how close he was to dying here.
Across from him, the abomination still stood.
Its massive form sagged in places where Noel's strikes had taken their toll, strips of ruined flesh hanging loose where his blessing had condemned them, yet it remained standing all the same. From within that grotesque body, the captain's form asserted control, sword in hand, its presence extending the creature's reach and turning the fight into something far more deliberate. It wasn't a mindless beast anymore.
The captain struck first, lunging with a precise sword thrust, the blade crackling with blue aura that promised rot on contact. Noel parried with his own sword, the clash reverberating up his fractured arm like a hammer blow, eliciting a guttural grunt as fresh blood welled from his palm. He twisted aside, but the monstrous flank responded with a weakened tongue whip—a singular lash from left to right—forcing him to duck low, the barbed tip grazing his boar ear and leaving a sizzling trail of decay.
"Not... yet," Noel growled through clenched teeth, his confidence hanging by a thread now.
The captain followed with a dragging slash, sweeping the sword low across the sand in a scraping arc that kicked up corrosive sparks and dust. Noel rolled right, evading the path, but the wake clipped his thigh, decay nibbling deeper into muscle already weakened from earlier wounds.
The fused horror pivoted, a leathery wing-like membrane unfurling from its side before sweeping outward in a wide horizontal arc meant to crush everything in its path. Noel met it with his sword, the impact slamming through his arms and rattling his already damaged body, his numb fingers barely managing to hold on as he was forced backward across the sand. Still, he used the momentum rather than resisting it, twisting with the recoil and forcing himself around to the captain's flank, where the swollen, pulsating mass of fused flesh lay exposed. He struck without hesitation.
The blade bit deep with a wet, tearing squelch, and both heads screamed at once, their voices overlapping into something inhuman and wrong. The captain reacted instantly, twisting with terrifying speed despite the damage, his sword already descending in a brutal overhead slash. Noel raised his own weapon to meet it, barely catching the blow before it split him open, but the force drove straight through him, his knees buckling as his bones ground together under the strain. Pain exploded through his arms.
The captain did not stop.
He drove the blade down again in a short, vicious plunge before Noel could recover, and this time Noel was too close to escape. The sword punched into his shoulder, biting through flesh and cracking bone with a sickening snap, before ripping free and throwing him violently across the arena. He hit the sand hard, blood spilling freely from the wound as the corruption spread from it, burrowing deeper like something alive.
He almost blacked out.
Noel rolled weakly, barely managing to move as agony swallowed everything else, his body trembling and unresponsive, his vision flickering at the edges as he fought to stay conscious. His body was reaching its limit.
From a distance, the captain raised his sword high, channeling blue energy into a barrage of acidic arcs—glowing projectiles that sliced through the air like venomous blades.
Noel hauled himself up on sheer will, weaving through the gaps with faltering steps, closing the range to deny such assaults. But up close, the monstrous flank split its torso wider, charging a visceral blast—a surge of blue-tinged bile that built with a gurgling hum, threatening to engulf the area ahead. Simultaneously, the captain primed a ground-shaking slam, sword poised overhead.
The blast erupted first, a radial spew of corrosive sludge that scorched the arena; Noel dove toward the beast's underbelly, the edges searing his back and aggravating old burns, decay blisters erupting anew. He clawed his way out just as the slam descended, the sword cratering the sand in a shockwave that flung him into the wall, ribs shattering further, a cough of blood spraying from his lips as darkness clawed at his sight.
In the midst of this brutal exchange of parrying and blocking the captain's close-range sword combos, repositioning to exploit the crumbling monstrous flank while evading the dominant side's relentless pressure—the captain's sword suddenly shifted tempo. A feint. Noel reacted a fraction too slow to the feint.
The blade slammed into his guard and tore straight through it, the impact detonating through his entire body and sending him hurtling across the arena before he crashed into the wall hard enough to leave cobweb fractures spiderwebbing through the ancient stone, the force knocking the breath from his lungs as his sword slipped from his fingers and clattered uselessly to the sand below.
Pain consumed everything. His vision blurred into smears of red and black as his lungs refused to draw breath, his ribs screaming with every failed attempt to inhale, his body trembling uselessly where it lay broken against the wall. He couldn't move. Couldn't stand. Couldn't fight. What's the point…? The thought slipped in, quiet and poisonous.
I can't win. I can't even stand. I did enough… didn't I? His fingers twitched weakly against the sand. If I just stay here… it'll end. The pain stops. Everything stops. His vision flickered, darkness creeping in at the edges, his consciousness begging him to let go.
Slow, deliberate footsteps scraped against the sand. One. Then another. Unhurried. Certain of victory. The captain stepped into Noel's fading vision and stopped a few paces away, looking down at him with open disgust, like something filthy had crawled onto his boot. His lips curled. "What's wrong?" he murmured. "I thought you animals were harder to break." He tilted his head, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "All that squealing earlier… and this is it?" His boot nudged Noel's dropped sword away. "Pathetic. Just another pig pretending it could stand among men." He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "Stay down, swine. Know your place." Then Noel heard it.
A wail pierced the chaos, echoing down through a rusted grate in the arena's floor—a drainage vent connecting to the torture chamber above, blood and fluids dripping through like macabre rain. A female cry for help—desperate, raw, one of the chained demi-humans perhaps roused by the quakes or enduring fresh torment.
It cut through the pain, through the exhaustion, through the part of him that was screaming to fall and never rise again. It reached the part that still stood.
Albert had never knelt.
Not when he was bleeding. Not when he was alone. Not when the world itself told him to break. He had stood, because that was what it meant to be a hero—not victory, not strength, but refusal. Refusal to abandon those who could not stand for themselves.
Noel's hand weakly reached for his sword, fingers scraping through the sand until they found the hilt. He paused there, trembling, his grip loose and uncertain.
Running was never an option in his mind.
"If I'm still breathing…" his voice rasped, barely more than a whisper, "...then there's hope."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then his fingers tightened.
His body answered his will, trembling violently as strength forced its way back into deadened muscle, his fading transformation flickering as if dragged back by sheer defiance alone. He pushed himself up slowly, unsteadily, every movement sending waves of agony through his ruined body. Every step hurt. Every step felt like it might be his last.
The captain watched him rise, head tilting with something like curiosity.
"Why?" The word slipped out almost involuntarily. Then, louder: "WHY? You're dying. You can hear her dying. What possible reason do you have to keep getting up?"
Noel's voice came out raw, blood thick on his tongue. A memory of Arthur drinking coffee in the morning light flashed through Noel's mind. "Because someone gave me a helping hand when I needed it most."
The captain's face flickered—something breaking through the hatred for just an instant—before he snarled and lunged.
Throughout the numerous exchanges the abomination was losing itself. Its massive form sagged as sections of flesh sloughed off in wet, collapsing clumps, the monstrous flank wheezing with every movement while the captain's sword arm trembled, struggling to remain steady. But it did not stop. It lashed out anyway, forcing its broken body to obey, a wing sweeping toward Noel that he barely managed to parry, the impact staggering the creature as much as himself. A thrust followed, fast but unsteady, and Noel slipped past it, answering with a slash that tore away a chunk of pulsating flesh. The captain retaliated with a dragging sweep that forced Noel back across the sand, yet even that motion faltered at the end, its knees dipping, the rhythm of its attacks breaking for the briefest instant.
Noel saw it.
He surged forward immediately, abandoning caution as he drove into the opening, his blade hacking again and again at the fused core. Claws raked across his side, tearing through flesh, and the tongue lashed his leg, decay burning into him like acid, but he did not stop. His body began to fail him mid-advance, his leg buckling beneath his weight, forcing him to catch himself by driving his sword into the sand just to remain standing. Blood filled his throat, spilling from his mouth as his vision dimmed, yet he forced himself upright and stepped forward again.
He refused to fall.
The abomination fought back desperately, its attacks slower now but no less lethal, a wild slash that Noel barely blocked, a faltering strike he parried aside, and a sputtering arc of acid he evaded by inches. He gave ground when he had to, buying himself seconds, then stepped back in when the opening appeared, his strikes landing between its broken movements. The battle had become something simpler now. Not skill. Not strength.
Endurance.
Each exchange carved another piece from it, each breath a victory, each step forward an act of defiance as he ground it down, inch by inch, toward its end.
The captain staggered, one hand going to his chest where Noel's last strike had landed. When he looked up, something in his eyes had changed—fear, maybe. Or recognition.
"You're going to kill me." It wasn't a question. His voice had lost its layered quality; for a moment, he sounded almost human. "I,I,I was was a knight. Before this. Before her. I took an oath."
Noel didn't lower his sword, but he didn't strike either.
"It doesn't matter," the captain whispered. "Nothing matters. You'll learn. Everyone breaks."
Then the monster surged forward again, and the moment passed.
As the captain faltered, he raised his sword, blue aura surging violently along its length as he gathered everything he had left into one final attack. Noel saw it and forced his ruined body to move, stumbling out of range just as the blade came down. The impact struck the arena with catastrophic force, releasing a radial shockwave that tore across the sand and left the ground blackened and cracked in its wake. The monstrous flank followed with a desperate body slam, slower now, clumsier.
Noel was already moving to dodge.
He dodged aside and threw himself forward, abandoning defense entirely as he closed the distance with what little strength remained. He didn't leap.
Noel climbed.
His fingers dug into rotting flesh, slipping in hot ichor as he dragged himself up the abomination's collapsing body, his grip failing, his arms screaming, yet he refused to fall. With a final, broken roar, he drove his sword forward.
The blade pierced the captain's chest and drove deep into the monstrous core behind him in one brutal, grinding thrust.
The abomination screamed—but this time, beneath the monster's wail, there was something else. A human sound.
The captain's human hand reached up and grabbed Noel's wrist where it still gripped the sword. His eyes, truly his eyes now, not the monster's, found Noel's face.
"You hear that?" His ruined voice crawled out, barely a whisper. "Up there. The screaming. That's the sound of mercy, boy. Mercy means they stop screaming eventually."
Noel said nothing. He couldn't.
"I stopped screaming a long time ago." The captain's grip tightened once—a plea, not a threat. "Now it's your turn."
His hand fell away.
The massive form sagged, then collapsed into the sand in a lifeless heap, the captain's eyes finally still.
Noel slid off with it.
He hit the ground on his knees, unable to stand, his transformation flickering before dying completely as the strength left his body. Every breath was agony. His hands trembled violently, barely able to hold the sword as he leaned on it just to remain upright.
He was still alive.
With shaking fingers, he reached into his pouch and pulled out his last potion, uncorking it and forcing himself to drink. The liquid spread through him like cold fire, slowing the bleeding and dulling the worst of the decay, but it could not undo the damage. His ribs still shifted painfully with every breath, his body held together by will alone.
The cry echoed again.
Noel lifted his head.
The arena gates burst open as guards poured inside, weapons drawn, their voices filled with shock and fury at what they saw. Noel pushed himself up anyway, his legs trembling beneath him, his sword dragging at his side as he forced himself to stand.
He would not fall here.
"I can't give up yet." he said.
And he stepped forward.
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AN
woah this is by far my longest chapter yet,
lmk if I cooked in the comments or burnt it.
I think one more chapter will end this mini arc.