Chương 336: The End before A New Beginning

Vale felt it before he saw it. The familiar sting of killing intent crawled across his skin, and his body reacted on instinct alone. Twisting sharply, he bent his torso just enough for the incoming arrow to whistle past his face instead of piercing his throat. The projectile grazed the side of his neck, carving a shallow crimson line across his skin before disappearing into the arena wall behind him.

Blood scattered into the air in a thin spray, sparkling beneath the afternoon sun as his feet barely found the ground again. He bent his knees to launch himself away, but something metallic caught the corner of his vision. The spear. The scarred swordswoman's discarded weapon still lay embedded in the arena floor, only an arm's length away.

Without hesitation, Vale lunged toward it, wrapping his fingers tightly around the polished shaft and wrenching it free just as the ground began trembling beneath the giant commander's charge. Every stride shook the arena as the massive warrior closed the distance, his enormous hammer resting over one shoulder. Vale inhaled. The hammer came crashing down. The sheer force behind the descending weapon distorted the air itself, yet instead of meeting it head-on, Vale shifted his footing at the final instant.

Holding the spear with one hand, he angled the shaft precisely against the descending hammer. Steel scraped violently against steel as the weapon slid harmlessly along the spear instead of stopping outright, crashing into the arena floor beside him with an explosion of shattered stone. Dust erupted around them. The opening lasted only a heartbeat. Vale stepped inside the giant's reach before the commander could recover, twisting his hips into a vicious punch that slammed directly into the man's nose. Crunch.

Blood burst across the giant's face as he staggered backward, one enormous hand instinctively flying toward his shattered nose while surprise briefly overtook his fury. Vale refused to waste the opportunity. His second sword flashed free as he planted a foot atop the giant's bent knee, using the man's body as a springboard before launching himself high into the air. His blade drove downward with every ounce of strength remaining in his battered body. Steel flashed.

The scarred commander appeared fast, her twin swords intercepting his strike with flawless precision. Sparks exploded between them as the collision knocked Vale from the air, sending him crashing back toward the arena floor. He barely caught himself before she was already upon him. Advancing without hesitation, she raised one blade high as though committing to a simple overhead slash. Vale reacted automatically, lifting his own sword into a defensive guard. Slash. Too obvious.

Halfway through the swing, her wrists rotated with perfect control, transforming the wide slash into a lightning-fast thrust. Vale's eyes widened. Too late. The blade drove cleanly through his left shoulder. Agony erupted through his arm as cold steel tore through muscle and burst from the opposite side, crimson blood pouring freely down his armor. His body seized, but he refused to fall.

Grinding his teeth hard enough to make his jaw ache, he forced every remaining ounce of strength into his right metallic arm and slashed desperately across her centerline. She withdrew, her practiced retreat carrying her safely beyond his counterattack. Vale managed a single breath before the giant arrived once more. The hammer descended again. He couldn't dodge. Not with one shoulder ruined. Not in time. His metallic arm shot upward instead. The hammer crashed directly into the prosthetic.

The impact was catastrophic. The arena floor fractured beneath his feet as his knees buckled violently, cracks racing outward through the stone while every bone in his body groaned beneath the weight. His organs felt as though they shifted inside his chest, blood flooding into his mouth and staining the inside of his mask as he coughed. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Yet somehow the mechanical arm held.

Every servo screamed beneath the strain, gears grinding as the artificial limb slowly redirected the hammer's crushing force away from his collapsing body.

'Now.' Vale lunged with his remaining sword. His ruined shoulder screamed in protest. The strike faltered. A sharp whistle cut through the air. The arrow struck first. It buried itself deep inside his knee, unleashing pain unlike anything before and forcing a cry from his lips as his balance disappeared completely. The giant needed no further invitation.

His enormous fist slammed sideways into Vale's ribs, launching him clear across the arena as his battered body skipped violently over the stone before finally sliding to a stop, leaving a crimson trail behind him. Silence settled across the colosseum as thousands watched him struggle back onto his feet. Every muscle trembled. His breathing came in ragged gasps while blood dripped steadily from his shoulder, neck, knee, and the shattered gaps in his armor. Still... He stood.

The scarred commander approached again, but this time she never reached for her swords. She didn't need them. Her leg snapped upward, crashing into the side of Vale's head with a deafening crack. His vision exploded into white as his brain slammed against the inside of his skull, sending his body spinning helplessly through the air. Only instinct saved him. One sword plunged into the arena floor, biting deep into the stone and carving a long trench before finally bringing him to a halt.

Vale remained kneeling, one hand gripping the embedded blade while the other pressed weakly against his ruined shoulder.

'It can't end here.'

'I have to win.'

'This isn't about me anymore.'

'I can't lose.' With visible effort, he forced himself upright, his eyes shifting toward the rear of the enemy formation. The archer. She hadn't missed once. Every movement he made, every opening he exposed, she punished without hesitation. Reaching down with trembling fingers, Vale seized the arrow lodged in his knee and ripped it free. Fresh blood poured down his leg, but he barely reacted. Only now did he truly understand the problem. It wasn't merely their coordination. Their equipment was exceptional.

None of his armor had stopped a single strike. Every arrow pierced cleanly. Every blade slipped effortlessly through the smallest gaps. Every impact found flesh.

'Perfect technique... and extraordinary weapons.' Probably both. Slowly, Vale drew his second sword once more, blood dripping steadily from both blades as he lowered himself into a guarded stance.

"As long..." he said between slow, labored breaths, "... as this mask remains intact..." He raised both swords.

"... I shall continue standing before you." The blonde archer tilted her head, a faint smile touching her lips.

"So be it." She calmly nocked another arrow.

"Then I'll simply make that my target." The bowstring snapped. The arrow vanished. Vale barely perceived it. His sword rose on instinct alone. Too slow. The arrow glanced off the edge of his blade before striking the obsidian mask. Crack. A thin fracture spread across the engraved golden sun. Vale froze.

"... What?" He barely had time to process it before the giant was already there. His fist slammed directly into the weakened mask, launching Vale backward into the arena wall with enough force to crater the ancient stone. Cracks spread across the obsidian like a spider's web before, with one final impact, The mask shattered. Fragments of black obsidian exploded through the air alongside pieces of the engraved golden sun, and for the first time, the arena saw his face. Silence consumed the stadium.

"... He's just a kid..." One voice became another.

"... They're making children fight?"

"Stop the match!"

"What kind of monsters are you?!"

"Get away from him!" The cheers dissolved into horrified outrage. No longer did they see the legendary Lionheart. They saw only a battered teenage boy standing alone against three veteran commanders. Vale scarcely heard them. His eyes remained fixed on the broken fragments scattered across the arena floor. His hope. Gone. Slowly, his gaze lifted beyond the commanders, beyond Wolf, beyond the arena itself until it found Drago. The old librarian stood perfectly still. There was no panic. No disappointment.

Only quiet pride and a gentle smile, as though silently telling him...'' It's alright.'' Vale's lips trembled.

"I..." His voice broke.

"... I don't want this..." The instant the words left his mouth, every shattered fragment of the mask began glowing with brilliant golden light. They dissolved into countless streams of luminous energy that rushed toward him, not to reform the mask, but to merge with him instead. Each fragment disappeared into his flesh, his soul, and something even deeper. Time itself slowed. Memories erupted. Thousands. Millions. Countless forgotten moments flooded back all at once: voices, lessons, battles, laughter, pain.

Not worth a single lifetime. Many. The arena disappeared. The blood vanished. Even the agony consuming his body faded beneath the overwhelming torrent of remembrance. Then came relief. A gentle hand rested upon his shoulder. Invisible. Weightless. Yet unmistakably real. A familiar voice whispered beside his ear.

"Show them." The presence disappeared. Vale smiled. The smile became a grin. The grin became laughter. Wild and joyful"I remember..." His shoulders shook.

"I remember!" The laughter only grew louder.

"I REMEMBER NOW!" He looked like a child who had finally recovered something precious he had believed lost forever. The archer loosed another arrow without hesitation. Vale didn't even acknowledge it. His hand moved lazily. One effortless motion. The arrow split cleanly in half before either piece reached him. Neither the commanders nor the audience had even seen him draw his blade. Vale lowered his hand with a chuckle.

"Oh... sorry about that." His breathing had become perfectly calm.

"I got a little carried away." His eyes softened as they drifted toward the sky.

"I'm just... so incredibly happy." A quiet smile crossed his face.

"I finally remember my time with him." Raising both swords once more, he settled effortlessly into a stance unlike anything seen before. The desperate child had vanished, replaced by someone whose every movement carried effortless precision, every breath perfect control, every posture absolute confidence. His gaze settled upon the three commanders. There was no hatred. No anger.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was almost gentle.

"... but you've already lost." His eyes met theirs, and within them rested experience that no ordinary lifetime could ever contain. Millennia.

"For I..." He lowered into a stance unlike anything the commanders had ever witnessed.

"... am the student of Kealix'' A faint smile touched his lips.

"The Chained Man himself."