Chapter 151: Radiant Rage

*Date: 33,480 Third Quarter — Parthanon*

Aris timed the witness stone perfectly.

At midnight, alone in his basement room, he pressed the diamond-shaped rock to his chest and let the stored experience flow into him. Twenty-five levels of power, accumulated over four years, surged through his veins like liquid fire.

If he won today, his buff would still be active tomorrow for the final. Two matches. One stone.

He had to win today.

---

The preparation chamber was crowded.

Fighters stretched and sparred, warming up for their matches. In one corner, a group had gathered around a figure in gleaming armor. They were laughing, joking, trading playful insults.

Aris's opponent was among them.

Number zero-eight-zero. A knight in full plate armor that shone like polished gold. His helmet was tucked under one arm, revealing a bearded face and kind eyes that seemed too gentle for a fighter.

The knight's friends noticed Aris watching. Their laughter faded into disgusted glances. Whispers reached his ears.

"That's him..."

"The killer..."

"Lazir's murderer..."

Aris looked away. He found an empty corner and sat alone, checking his potions.

He should be used to this. He had been alone for four years. Had fought and bled and survived with no one to help him.

But watching the knight joke with his friends, watching them support each other, touched something raw inside him.

He could have had that. Should have had that.

With Lyra. With Fox. With Orric and Gumo and all the friends he had made at the academy.

But they were gone. Taken. Destroyed.

And all Aris had left was anger.

---

The announcer's voice filled the arena, silencing the crowd.

"Welcome to the semifinal of our tournament! In the below-fifty bracket, we are getting quite the match today!"

Aris walked onto the sand. The artificial sun blazed overhead. The stands were packed, thousands of faces staring down at him.

"In one corner, our knight in shining armor, NUMBER ZERO-EIGHT-ZERO!"

Cheers erupted. The knight strode onto the field, his armor gleaming. He raised his sword in salute, and the crowd roared louder.

"And in the other corner, the mysterious RADIANT RAGE, NUMBER ZERO-NINE-NINE!"

The cheers turned to murmurs. Some people booed. Others watched in grim silence.

Radiant Rage. That was what they were calling him now. The level-one mage who killed with divine light.

Aris pulled down his hood and stepped forward.

"Now take your places and your guards! Aaaand... BEGIN!"

---

Aris moved first.

He downed his potions in a single gulp. Enhancement. Stamina. The power of the witness stone combined with the alchemy, flooding his body with strength.

His eyes began to burn. Golden light flickered in his pupils.

The knight drew his sword. Golden-colored blade. Dragon-scaled shield. The equipment alone was worth more than everything Aris owned.

That sword can't be real gold, Aris thought. Gold is too soft for combat.

But he pushed the question aside. He needed to focus.

Radiant mark. Radiant threat. Small buffs to his aim, small debuffs to his opponent. Every edge mattered.

The knight charged.

Aris manifested his radiant orb and began the dance.

Light missiles flew. The knight blocked them with his shield, pressing forward through the barrage. Aris retreated, circling, keeping distance.

But this opponent was different.

He didn't tire. Didn't slow. Every time Aris repositioned, the knight was there, shield up, sword ready.

Aris threw everything at him. Light missiles. Radiant bursts. Even ice shards, a spell he had been practicing in secret. The combination attacks should have overwhelmed any opponent.

But the knight kept coming.

His shield absorbed everything. His armor deflected what the shield missed. Step by step, he closed the gap.

Aris felt panic rising. His orb was shrinking, its power draining with each attack. His potions were wearing off. If he ran out of magic before breaking through...

The knight lunged.

Aris raised his buckler to block the first blow. Metal screamed against metal. The force drove him back.

The second swing came from the side. Aris dodged, rolling across the sand. His hood fell back, revealing his face to the crowd.

He scrambled to his feet, panting. The knight was advancing again, relentless as a tide.

Think. Think!

The knight was giant but slow. No technique. Just raw power and overwhelming defense. But Aris had seen something during the combo. A slight hesitation. A moment of recognition.

Why hadn't he pressed the advantage?

No time to question. Aris had to end this now.

He began to chant.

The knight's eyes widened behind his visor. He raised his shield and charged, trying to interrupt the spell.

But Aris was faster. The words poured from his lips, power gathering around him like a storm.

"HOLY SMITE!"

Golden lightning fell.

The knight raised his shield at the last moment. Divine fire struck enchanted metal. The arena shook. Thunder rolled across the stands.

When the light faded, the knight was still standing.

But he was on his knees. His shield arm hung limp. Smoke rose from the joints of his armor.

Aris panted, exhausted. His potions were spent. His orb was gone. His magic reserves were empty.

But then something stirred inside him. Something dark. The blood titles he had earned through Marduk's teachings. Power he barely understood.

He let it fill him.

His eyes darkened. The golden light in them turned red-tinged, hungry.

The knight fell to the sand, still trying to rise. Still fighting.

These damn people, Aris thought. Always stopping me. Always getting in my way. I need to win.

He pulled his dagger. The enchanted blade Rodran promised. The one he had used to almost kill Lazir.

One more death. What did it matter?

He started forward.

The knight was saying something. Shouting through his helmet. But Aris couldn't hear him. Couldn't process words through the red haze of rage.

"You're so tough, huh?" Aris spat the words. "Come on. Come and get me, you freaks. I will take all of you down and save my friends in this forsaken, shithole of a game!"

He raised the dagger.

The knight pulled off his helmet.

The face beneath was bearded. Young. Familiar.

Impossibly familiar.

"Aris, it's me!" the knight shouted. "DEMIR! ARIS!"

The name hit Aris like a physical blow. He stumbled but didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The dagger was still raised. The rage was still burning.

This couldn't be real. Demir was gone. Lost. Probably dead.

This was a trick. An illusion. Another person trying to manipulate him.

He lunged.

The knight caught him. Wrapped massive arms around Aris, pinning the dagger against his armored chest.

"I WITHDRAW!" the knight bellowed. His voice cracked with emotion. "I WITHDRAW!"

Aris struggled against the grip. "Let me go, you mountain bear! I will take my revenge on all of you!"

But the knight held on. Through the cold metal of his armor, Aris could feel warmth. Genuine warmth. The kind that came from someone who cared.

Someone who loved him.

The rage began to fade.

The red haze lifted.

And Aris saw the face looking down at him. Saw the tears streaming down bearded cheeks. Saw the eyes he had known since childhood.

"Demir?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"It's me." Demir's voice broke. "I found you. I finally found you."

The dagger fell from Aris's fingers.

And for the first time in four years, Aris allowed himself to cry unlike anything before.