Chapter 60 ‒ Shadows of the Past
Chapter 60 ‒ Shadows of the Past
Tyler stood at the edge of the ring for his fourth battle, his heart pounding against the cage of his ribs. He stared down at the sands darkened with blood and sweat, and his mind, for a moment, spiralled back to the earlier fights. Each time he had raised his sword, the guilt clung to him like a second skin. Each time he glanced at his skill list, his fingers twitched toward the lethal ones—his default instincts. And each time, he held back. But for how long?
He had made it this far. He had triumphed over three determined opponents. Yet what weighed heavier than the battles won was the restraint he fought to maintain. If he lost control now, even for a second, someone could die. Someone who might not deserve it. Even now, a voice deep inside reminded him that one slip-up could turn him into the monster he feared becoming.
His hands trembled slightly. Not from fear of defeat, but from fear of causing harm. Of becoming the very thing, he had sworn not to be.
Every time I fight, it’s like I’m walking on a blade’s edge. I’ve held back every time. But how much longer can I keep doing that? What if I slip? What if I kill again?
His thoughts swirled like a storm. The green gas. Milo’s coughing. That final smile. The image pierced him anew, and he staggered within.
But I have to win. To free at least half of them. I made a promise…
He steadied himself. Even if it hurt. Even if it meant pushing past his fear. Even if he hated himself for every step forward.
His opponent this time was the feline duellist he had watched earlier. The kitten-bunny hybrid who carved through a towering alligator like it was nothing, in the previous round. She was lithe, nimble, and her daggers shimmered like hungry fangs under the sun. Her name was Velin.
Velin approached him with grace and bowed. Tyler hesitated for a heartbeat before returning the gesture, keeping his eyes locked on hers.
The announcer counted down.
“Three… two… one… BEGIN!”
Velin dashed forward like a gust of wind. Her form was a blur, the way she weaved and shifted as if her body had memorized the flow of the wind itself. Tyler barely had time to react as the first dagger nicked his side. Then another. And another.
All three daggers moved in tandem—one in each hand and a third expertly wielded by her prehensile tail. She became a whirlwind of stabbing slashes, a whirlwind of steel, and Tyler could barely follow her. She danced around him with surgical precision, turning her small frame into a spinning, cutting machine. Every step was measured. Every thrust and parry executed with deadly elegance.
[Status: Affected by [Bleeding] — Target loses 10 HP every second. Duration: 00:00:20]
Each strike renewed the effect, the countdown jumping by five seconds every time. Blood began to trail down Tyler’s arms and sides.
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Tch… so that’s your play, he thought, staggering back.
He activated [Undying Tenacity]. A surge of light swept through him.
[Activated Skill: Undying Tenacity]
[Duration: 00:00:00]
The bleeding ceased. His wounds closed. But the cost had been high—she had whittled away at him fast. Tyler furrowed his brows. Was that [Bleeding] a skill of hers? Or maybe her daggers had an enchantment? Either way, dangerous.
He needed distance.
Tyler activated [Dash], moving with incredible speed, barely avoiding another flurry of strikes. Then he activated [Berserk], his strength surging.
He launched several sword slashes, attacking with intent to pressure rather than kill. But Velin was already gone before each swing could land. She twisted, ducked, spun—graceful and slippery as a shadow. Her footwork was swift, nimble, almost unnatural. It was as if his strikes moved in slow motion for her.
He leapt back, flipping away from her daggers. She lunged to follow, but he extended his palm.
[Activated Skill: Forcepush]
A burst of energy slammed into Velin, launching her backward. As she stumbled and tried to regain her footing, Tyler closed the gap and delivered a harsh kick to her midsection. She tumbled into the sand, coughing.
Tyler raised his hand to cast [Fireball] but paused. She was already struggling to stand, trembling, breath laboured.
If he used that spell, she would die.
He lowered his hand.
“Surrender,” he called out. “If you surrender, you’ll avoid more pain.”
She hissed, clutching her ribs. “No! If I lose, I go back into that prison. Do you know what it’s like? They keep us in cages. They beat us, starve us. I won’t go back.”
He walked toward her, slowly, his voice softer now. “I’m here to end that system. To break it. But I need to win this tournament to do that. Please, Velin. Just surrender. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She looked up at him. Her large eyes shimmered. Her voice trembled.
“Are you telling the truth?”
“Yes,” Tyler answered without hesitation. “I’m not here for glory. I’m here to save you all.”
Velin blinked.
“Oh my virtuous hero,” she said sweetly, smiling.
Tyler blinked, taken aback.
“You’re so kind…”
“I’m not a hero,” Tyler began, “I’m just doing what’s—cough—”
His sentence was cut off as he doubled over, hacking violently.
“—and stupid,” Velin finished with a grin.
A hiss escaped from beneath her feet. A green cloud burst outward.
Tyler’s eyes widened. “No…”
[Status: Affected by [Poison Cloud] — Target will lose 50 HP every second. Duration: 00:01:00]
Velin stepped back, grinning. “Heroes are always like this. So easy to fool.”
She chuckled as the fog spread, hiding Tyler from view.
“You thought I was done just because I fell over? Pathetic. I saw the way your expression changed when you kicked me. You hesitated. You were going to strike, but held back. Just like your last fights. You even tried to talk me down into surrendering—ha! Because you knew your next hit would’ve killed me. Haha!”
Her eyes sparkled with glee. “You were probably right. But that was your mistake. You let your guard down. I had to use my secret weapon earlier than I wanted, but oh well. I win.”
She turned, and was about to walk away.
“WHY?”
The voice cracked like a whip through the dissipating fog.
Velin froze. “N-No…”
“WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO THIS?”
The fog began to clear. A tall silhouette emerged, bloodied but burning with fury.
[Activated Skill: Undying Tenacity]
Velin stepped back, her face pale. “It—It can’t be…”
Tyler’s face was contorted with rage. His eyes glowed faintly red from the lingering effects of [Berserk]. His breathing was heavy, his gaze locked on her like a predator.
“WHY DID YOU USE A POISON GAS OF ALL THINGS?!”
Velin stammered, her bravado gone. “Y-You shouldn’t have survived that…”
“WHHHYYYYY?!”
Each step he took toward her echoed across the silent arena. Even the crowd had gone quiet. The same green gas that had stolen Milo from him—it returned now, a symbol of betrayal.
Velin stumbled backward. “No! It doesn’t make sense! You should be paralyzed, coughing, weak!”
But Tyler kept walking.
A memory flickered. Milo, gasping. Green smoke. His eyes wide in panic.
Tyler’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.
The crowd waited, breathless.