Chapter 150: Kill or Be Killed

*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter — Parthanon* - two days ago

The morning of the third round, Aris stood in the preparation chamber and tried to control his breathing.

Lazir was fast. Faster than anyone Aris had faced. Even with his tier-three potions, he might not be quick enough. The assassin had dispatched his previous opponents in seconds, barely breaking a sweat.

Aris considered using the witness stone. The excess experience stored within could boost his temporary levels significantly. Combined with his potions, it might give him the edge he needed.

But no.

He had a plan. The witness stone's buff would last twenty-four hours. If he used it tomorrow's semifinal and if he won that, he could carry into the final as well.

Two matches for the price of one.

He just had to survive Lazir without it.

---

The arena was packed.

Word had spread about the level-one contestant who kept winning. People came to see if he would die, or if he would defy expectations once more.

Lazir entered from the opposite side. He moved like liquid shadow, his twin daggers gleaming in the artificial sunlight. His smile was confident. Predatory.

"I warned you, kid." His voice carried across the sand. "You should have stayed home."

Aris said nothing. He drank his potions. Enhancement. Stamina. Healing. The power flooded his veins, sharpening his senses.

The gong sounded.

Lazir vanished.

No, not vanished. Moved. So fast that Aris's eyes couldn't track him. One moment he was across the arena. The next, his blade was inches from Aris's throat.

Aris threw himself backward. The dagger caught his robe, tearing fabric but missing flesh. He rolled and came up casting.

"Radiant Burst!"

Light exploded from his hands. Lazir flickered and was gone, reappearing behind Aris. A dagger sliced across his back.

Pain. Hot and sharp. Blood soaked into his robe.

"Too slow," Lazir said. "Way too slow."

Aris spun, sending another burst of light. Lazir dodged easily. Their eyes met.

"You know what I need this money for?" Lazir's voice was conversational, even as he circled for another attack. "Debts. Gambling debts. The kind that get your family killed if you don't pay."

"I don't care about your debts."

"No? Then what do you care about?"

Aris's hands glowed with gathering magic. "Two people I love are prisoners. One lost her memories to survive. The other was kidnapped by a monster." His voice cracked. "The prize and the money is the only way to save them."

Lazir paused. Something flickered in his eyes. Recognition, maybe. Understanding.

Then he attacked.

His blades were everywhere. Aris blocked, dodged, retreated. The assassin was relentless, his speed inhuman. Every time Aris tried to cast, Lazir was there, interrupting, punishing.

Blood ran from a dozen cuts. Aris's potions were working overtime, healing what they could, but he was losing ground.

"Give up," Lazir said. "Surrender. I'll make it quick."

"No."

"Then die."

Lazir lunged. Both daggers aimed at Aris's heart.

Time slowed.

Aris saw the blades coming. Saw death approaching. And in that frozen moment, he made his choice.

He didn't dodge.

He stepped forward.

Lazir's blades found flesh. One in his shoulder. One in his side. Pain exploded through Aris's body.

But Aris's dagger found flesh too.

The enchanted blade sank into Lazir's chest, sliding between ribs. The assassin's eyes went wide.

They stood there, locked together, two men with blades buried in each other.

"How..." Lazir's voice was a whisper.

Aris twisted the dagger.

Lazir screamed and fell back, pulling himself off the blade. He stumbled, clutching his chest. Blood poured between his fingers.

"Yield," Aris said. His voice was steady despite the agony. "Yield, and you live."

For a moment, Lazir seemed to consider it. Then his face twisted with rage.

"NEVER!"

He lunged. Wounded. Desperate. A man with nothing left to lose.

Aris began to chant.

The words came automatically. The prayer he had learned at the academy. The spell that had killed Rodran. Divine wrath channeled through mortal flesh.

"No!" Lazir's eyes went wide with recognition. "NO!"

"HOLY SMITE!"

Golden lightning fell.

---

The arena went silent.

Lazir lay on the sand, his body smoking. His skin was burned, his clothes reduced to ash. But unlike Rodran, he was still breathing. Barely.

Healers rushed onto the field.

"Did he kill him?" someone shouted from the crowd.

"No, he's alive!" a healer called back. "Barely, but alive!"

Aris stood in the center of the arena, swaying. His wounds were bleeding freely. His magic was exhausted. But he was standing.

He had won.

---

The crowd's reaction was mixed. Some cheered. Others stared in horrified silence. Aris could hear the whispers.

"He used heavy magic..."

"On a below fifty player..."

"The scrawny kid... we didn't expect..."

Aris walked toward the exit, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

---

The treatment tent was crowded.

Healers worked on Lazir first. Priority went to the dying. Aris found a corner and sat, pressing a cloth to his wounds.

Other contestants came and went. Some glanced at him with fear. Others with respect. None approached.

He didn't care.

He sat alone, waiting for his turn. Thinking about the semifinal. About the final. About Fox and Lyra and everything he still had to do.

---

The next morning, word spread through the Coliseum.

Lazir was dead.

His wounds had been too severe. The healers had done what they could, but the divine lightning had burned something inside him that couldn't be repaired.

Aris heard the news without reaction.

He had killed again.

He should feel something. Guilt. Horror. Remorse.

But all he felt was cold.

---

His fourth-round opponent was a mage.

Number forty-five. A woman who specialized in buffs and debuffs. She entered the arena with confidence, her hands already weaving preparatory spells.

"I know what you are," she said. "A killer. A monster."

Aris said nothing.

She cast her debuffs first. Weakness. Slowness. Confusion. Spells designed to cripple an opponent before the real fight began.

Aris felt them hit his defenses. And bounce off.

The mage's eyes went wide. "What?"

His blood potions. The ones he had made with the forbidden knowledge Marduk had taught him. They were absolute power. Active effects that couldn't be wiped by low-level debuffs.

Aris smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile.

"My turn."

---

The fight was short.

Without her debuffs, the mage had nothing. Aris's radiant orb tore through her shields. His radiant mark drained her stamina. When she tried to run, he hit her with a burst of light that sent her sprawling.

"I yield!" she screamed. "I YIELD!"

Aris lowered his hand.

The announcer declared his victory. The crowd's reaction was muted. They were looking at him differently now. Not as an underdog. Not as an inspiration.

As a monster.

Aris walked out of the arena, ignoring their stares.

Let them think what they want, he thought. I've given them the monster. Now I'll take everything they have.