Chapter 12 – The Battle of the Champions

The sacred valley still breathed in silence.

Armies arrayed. Light and darkness. Life and death. Static as statues buried in ages.
But the air… vibrated.

In the center of the arena, the tension between Grumak and the Bloodecho was like a rope about to snap.
It was the sharp sound of Zarku's staff hitting the cracked ground that broke the silence.

The shadow Nok'vai emerged from the darkness like a forgotten prayer. He walked to the edge between worlds—where the living grass touched the dead earth—and bowed. Not to the armies. Not to Grumak.
To the throne.

"Tuntor, Master of Balance…" he said, his voice hoarse as dry leaves. "I ask to be given the floor."

The Tuntor didn't speak. He just nodded slowly.

Zarku rose as if the world bowed with him.

—The hearts have already been revealed. The field is set. But… is it really necessary to plunge so many into destruction, when here we have two champions willing to bear the weight of judgment?

He pointed his staff at Grumak and Bloodecho.

— I propose: that this cycle be decided by a single combat. Champion against champion. Essence against essence. Until one remains.

The whisper of the proposal pierced both armies. Wild creatures looked at each other. Even the specters ceased their murmuring.

On the smaller throne, Malias leaned forward, frowning.

— Of course… logical. But Zarku only proposes this because he's betting on his monster.

"And rightly so," Tibrok muttered. "The Bloodecho is worth a hundred."

Tuntor's hand rose, and the world held its breath. When he spoke, his voice echoed within everyone:

— The Balance accepts. This night will be decided by essence.

Grumak and the Blood-Echo were at the center. Nothing else mattered.

The elemental gauntlet on his arm pulsed blue, cold as the wind from the peaks. Ahead, the enemy—an amalgam of living rock, shadow, and spirit blood. Two black blades hovered around him, hungry.

They collided.

Grumak swung first, punching. The specter dodged like living mist and slashed back. The blade passed close, but Grumak spun, his frozen forearm deflecting the blow in a crackle of ice and sparks.

More attacks. Two. Four. The blades came in succession. Grumak resisted, blocking with the weight of the earth and responding with precise punches that sent veins of ice across his enemy's body.

But Echo wasn't made of flesh. He dissolved the ice with pulses of darkness.

The blades accelerated. Grumak slammed his fists into the ground and raised a wall of ice. Defenses exploded, and they both leaped at the same time.

Impact. Ice. Shadow.
Grumak was thrown backward, swept away by a black wave. He slid across the ground for meters.

—They're measuring each other… — Malias whispered.

"It's more than strength," Tibrok said. "It's soul."

The Echo retreated. And called the past.

The creature raised its arms.
And then, the black aura condensed into a living spiral. Each rotation seemed to wring a scream from forgotten time.

From the top of the whirlpool, three beams of dark energy shot out like inverted thunderclaps , tearing the ground beneath the Bloodecho's feet.

And there, between the crack, they emerged.

Three shadows, legends… broken.

The first, hunched over, moved with the silence of a predator.
A rogue of dancing leaves. A
corrupted dagger in his hands, his eyes like blades waiting for blood.

The second, tall and arched, held a bow that seemed to weep fire.
One was the archer.
Her eyes wept with pain, but her smile was that of one embracing destruction.

The third, a giant, wore cracked spiritual armor, a huge axe on its back.
A titan. Blindfolded with black straps, as if it no longer wanted to see what it had become.

Grumak took a step back.
Not out of fear—but out of respect.
These were no ordinary enemies.

That was when, for the first time,
the Bloody Eco spoke.

His voice wasn't a sound—
it was a sensation.
It scraped against the bone. Poisoned chills.

" Do you know who they are, Grumak? " he said, turning the blades calmly.
"Fragments of ancient champions... who challenged me. And failed." Three flaws in the balance.

With a gesture, he pointed to each shadow:

— Jor'nel . He hesitated to protect his village.
— Sallira . He lost his way trying to purify everything—even what didn't need saving.
— Velgran . He believed strength was everything… and was crushed by it.

Grumak clenched his fists. Cold vapors began to rise, thicker.
" Using the dead as weapons?"

— They 're not dead , Grumak.
— They're here... because they chose to lose.
— I just kept their Souls .

Tuntor stirred in his throne for the first time.

" This is cheating! " Tibrok roared. "You're breaking the rules of the trial!"

Malias clenched his fist, his eyes fixed on the field.
"It's not just cheating…" "It's psychological. He's pitting the past against hope… to destroy the present."

In the arena, the three ghosts began to circle Grumak .

The tension was suffocating.
Even the forest beings retreated .

Each step the wraiths took left black marks on the ground.
And Grumak… just rolled his shoulders. Steam rose in gentle swirls from his fists to his elbows. Steady.
Unwavering.

"Bring as many as you want," he said, glaring at Bloodecho.
" I'll take them all down. One by one."

And then, without warning…
they attacked.

Grumak assumed a fighting stance, his eyes fixed on the three shadowy figures that now surrounded him like ancient predators. Each emanated a distorted aura—at the same time, as if they were echoes of broken souls that had once been noble.

Jor'nel, the agile shadow, was the first to attack.

With a nearly invisible leap, he appeared on the left, his shadow dagger in hand. The blow came tearing through the air, sideways, straight at the rib.

Grumak spun at the last second, raising his right arm. The gauntlet froze the air around it, forming a sheet of ice that deflected the blade by inches.

—Too fast… — he growled, taking a step back.

Sallira the archer didn't wait. Her spectral bow lit with a black flame, and she loosed three flaming arrows in succession. Each followed a curved trajectory, aiming for the flanks like flaming serpents.

Grumak stomped his foot and activated teleport. He disappeared and appeared behind Velgran, the third opponent, attempting a counterattack with a cross punch.

But Velgran. The titan spun around with the axe in an arc, and Grumak had to duck to escape. He rolled to the ground, the impact of the weapon passing inches from his head, cracking the ground where he had been standing a second before.

—None of you fight like a ghost... — he muttered, standing up.

And then... they came together.

Jor'nel disappeared and appeared behind him, plunging his dagger into his left shoulder. At the same moment, a flaming arrow struck Grumak squarely in the back, fired from above by Sallira.

Two blows, almost at the same time.

Grumak grunted in pain, staggering. Blood trickled down his shoulder, and his torn cloak smoked where the arrow had burned through the fabric.

Malias half rose from his throne, his eyes wide.

— GRUMAK!

Tibrok covered his mouth in panic.

— No… he’s being cornered!

But before the three could coordinate another attack, Grumak closed his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath. Then he activated the teleporter again.

With a freezing flash, he disappeared from the ambush and appeared in the air above Sallira, his right fist encased in glowing ice.

— Now it's my turn…!

A hammer-like punch, striking the spectral archer squarely in the shoulder. The impact sent her crashing to the arena floor with a icy crash. Frozen crystals exploded around her, and her form flickered unsteadily.

But Jor'nel was already on the move again, darting through the shadows, fading in and out of sight. Grumak spun, trying to keep up—but it was Velgran who appeared from behind, his axe already raised.

Grumak teleported again, appearing behind the titan. But Jor'nel was waiting for him there, and the blow came diagonally, as if he knew exactly where he would be.

He raised both arms, crossing them with his glove, blocking the impact. The shock shook his bones.

“You are fast…” he said, his eyes shining. “But I am the wall between you and what remains of the forest.”

With a war cry, he unleashed a wave of icy air in a circle. The blast of cold knocked the three enemies back.

For a brief moment, the field was quiet.

Grumak was panting, sweating, with open wounds on his back and shoulder, but still standing.

Malias whispered:

— Come on, Grumak... show them why you were chosen.

The three specters circled Grumak like prey. Blood trickled down his back, his breathing heavy, and sweat already mingled with the earth beneath his feet. The elemental gauntlet still glowed… but dimly, its ice crystals cracked by the last of the blockades.

Sallira floated to the left, her spectral bow armed with three more flaming arrows.
Jor'nel moved in the shadows, a lethal figure lurking, ready to strike from behind. Velgran, the fallen titan, raised his axe with both hands—the horizontal cut would come with enough force to split a mountain.

Grumak was surrounded.

His knees were shaking.
But he didn't fall. His eyes were burning. But he didn't blink.

And it was then, between one breath and the next, that something inside him lit up.

A memory.

Shiro's voice, so small, so fragile on that forgotten night.

“Dad… why don’t you ever fall?”

And then the answer—from himself, years ago, under the starry sky of the old world:

“Because I am your ground. If I fall… there’s nothing left to hold you up.”

Those words exploded inside him like thunder. Time froze. The world seemed to stop spinning.

The stones absorbed by the glove.
The energy of the circle. The bond with the forest. Everything resonated at once.

The glove glowed with a pulse of silver light. An ancient symbol appeared on the palm—the mark of Narulen. Runes began to flash, one by one, in Grumak's mind. The five stones, the elements, formed a circle around him.

And as the three specters advanced together—flaming arrows, shadow blade, corrupted axe—Grumak let out a single scream…raising his fist to the sky.

— Veil Stones… give me the ground that sustains life.

Just as the attacks collided with his body, a translucent energy barrier appeared around him. Five pulsating layers, each marked with the symbol of a sacred stone.

Sallira's arrows struck the outer layer and disintegrated.
Jor'nel's dagger was repelled by a burst of blue light. And Velgran's axe… cracked. Then it split in half.

A roar ripped through the valley.

Light and shadow dissipated.
And Grumak remained standing, untouched, in the center of his magical wall.

From above, Tibrok shouted:

— He awakened the Vein Protection!

— What?! — Malias's eyes widened.

"It's a sacred skill! An ancient barrier, created by the union of the five stones of the circle! Only the ancient Nok'vai knew how to use it. And he… he did it instinctively!"

On the field, Grumak slowly lowered his fist. The barrier still glowed around him, but now more subtle, controlled.

He looked up.
Firmly. Focused. The tiredness was still there… but the fear wasn't.

— Now… it’s my turn.

The field fell silent after the triple attack collapsed.

Grumak, now enveloped in a pulsating aura, felt power course through his veins. Ice. Fire. Earth. Wind. The four elements danced beneath his will. The runes glowed softly, as if the stones had unleashed their full power.

He wasn't going to waste this chance.

— Let's dance, shadows…

Jor'nel appeared from behind, once again betting on a stealth attack — but Grumak sensed his presence.

In an instant, he spun around and stamped his foot. A wave of earth rose up in spikes, halting the specter's movements.

Before he could escape, Grumak lunged forward with a blast of wind—swift as an arrow. His flaming fist connected with the shadow's abdomen, engulfing it in flames. In the same motion, he delivered another icy punch straight to the enemy's chest.

The impact shattered Jor'nel like glass.
The shadow dissolved into smoke.

— One is gone.

Sallira retreated into the air, preparing another volley of flaming arrows. But Grumak gave her no space.

His glove vibrating, he leaped—powered by the air itself. Still aloft, he clasped his hands together and spun, forming an incandescent spiral around him.

— Whirlwind of Ashes!

The spiral enveloped him like a hurricane, and he collided with Sallira in mid-flight. Flames engulfed them both, until, with a roar, he launched her like a meteor.

The impact left a smoking crater.
Grumak fell to his knees, rolled to the side… and rose with his fists still burning.

Sallira disintegrated into black petals.

Velgran remained.

Standing still, without the axe, with cracked armor.

He stepped forward.
Grumak too.

The crash was like thunder in the center of the field. Fist hitting fist. Brute force. Velgran was still strong. Each impact reverberated in Grumak's bones like hammer blows.

But this time, he controlled everything.

Velgran tried to grab him—and Grumak fought back.

— Freezing Current.

Grumak twisted his arm sharply, and crystalline chains of ice shot out from the ground, coiling around the titan's arm like frozen serpents. Velgran tried to break the bonds, but before he could react, Grumak channeled wind through the ice coils—and then ignited everything inside with the heat of fire.

The thermal shock was immediate. The chains exploded into blinding fragments, sending Velgran flying.
The armor shattered.

Grumak lunged forward. In a leap, he unleashed a rising punch, laden with ice and stone. And Velgran was thrown to the ground.

The impact exploded in the air. The shock wave swept across the field.

Velgran disintegrated into gray sparks.

The ashes of the defeated shadows still floated through the air.

Grumak, panting, was on his knees, his hands on the ground. Every muscle ached—but he stood firm.

Across the field, Bloody-Echo watched.

And then... he applauded .

A dry sound, which echoed through the arena.

“Impressive, Grumak…” the voice said. “You are, indeed, different from the last ones.
” “They fell into despair. You… fight as if the world depended on it.”

Grumak stood slowly, his fists clenched tightly.

— Maybe because it depends.

The Bloody-Echo smiled.

— So… see my true form.

His aura exploded. The earth shook. Ashes and weapons of the defeated champions were absorbed—dagger, bow, axe. fused into his body.

He grew up.

Spikes sprouted from his shoulders.
Six blades sprouted like wings. An extra arm wielded a bow. Velgran's mask became armor on his chest.

Four eyes gleamed. —It was a living tomb.

The Echo floated, surrounded by swirls of darkness.

— Let's see if your story will be buried too, Grumak.

The air trembled.

Grumak wiped the blood from his face.
He steadied himself.

— You carry the dead.
— I… carry the living.

And the last battle began.