CHAPTER 190: KAI VS GRIM - PART TWO

Kai drove a fist into Grim’s stomach.

Another into his ribs.

Then his shoulder. His temple. His jaw.

Strike. Strike. Strike.

No response.

The man who had moved like smoke before was now bracing each blow like a stone wall.

"What...?" Kai muttered under his breath, sweat flying from his brow with each punch.

But with every strike, Grim’s body grew denser. At first, Kai thought it was strengthening magic, but no, this was different. The impact felt wrong. Like he was punching into thickened flesh that didn’t respond like flesh should.

It was hardening.

The last hit jarred Kai’s knuckles. He grimaced and stepped back, eyes narrowing as he reassessed.

"He’s not just tough... he’s changing..."

Grim raised his head, and for the first time, something about his aura twisted. A cold breath. A faint hum in the air. And Kai felt it.

A breeze. No... a presence.

Faint and cold. Familiar in the worst way.

’That’s... necromantic energy? Or close. But not like mine. Not exactly.’

His stomach turned.

Grim advanced.

Kai readied himself, but too slow.

Grim lunged, his speed spiking again, and before Kai could cast a barrier or move, both of his arms were seized.

Grim’s fingers closed like vices.

CRACK.

Both of Kai’s forearms snapped.

The pain was blinding. Like molten rods shoved through his nerves. His vision blurred, knees buckling.

He didn’t even have time to scream before he was struck.

BAM.

A savage blow slammed into Kai’s jaw. His head snapped to the side, and he flew three meters across the arena, tumbling like a ragdoll before skidding to a halt.

The world spun.

The crowd had gone silent.

"Get up..." Grim said, actually speaking and encouraging him.

Kai tried.

His arms dangled, limp. Broken. Useless.

He staggered to his knees, teeth gritted so hard he tasted blood. His entire jaw ached, already swelling. His body begged to quit. But his mind screamed louder.

"I’ve come too far..."

He stood. Wobbled. Spit blood.

Grim was walking again. That steady, dead man’s gait. No urgency. No flare.

Just pressure. Crushing, overwhelming pressure.

Kai raised his arms instinctively, and cried out. Pain flared as the bones ground against themselves.

No more punches.

He tried kicking. A swift spin-kick to Grim’s side.

Thud.

No effect.

Grim caught the leg and twisted. Kai yelped, falling backwards, tumbling across the floor.

He couldn’t win like this.

Couldn’t hit. Couldn’t block. Couldn’t breathe.

He coughed. Blood dripped from his lips.

Grim’s chest was still rising and falling like nothing had happened.

Kai struggled upright, his body hunched, trembling.

The crowd watched, breathless.

Kai’s eyes locked on Grim’s.

"I’m not... Giving up..."

Kai’s Shadow Domain flickered—then collapsed.

Like a candle snuffed out in a storm.

The comforting presence, that veil of darkness that had always given him control, protection, power, was gone. The field around him shattered like glass, and all that remained was the arena, the crowd, the pain, and Grim.

Fist.

It struck Kai’s gut. The air left his lungs. His feet left the ground.

Another.

To his ribs. He heard it crack, felt it splinter like thin bark under an axe.

Another.

A brutal hook to his temple. His vision spun sideways. A heartbeat skipped. His legs folded.

He dropped to one knee, blood mixing with sweat on the stone tiles.

His mind, his very soul, felt pulled thin.

And then he heard them.

From within the shadows that clung to his mind like smoke:

"Let us OUT! Master, let us protect you! You’re DYING!"

They were all there.

Joe, his first and most loyal, bellowed like a beast shackled too long.

Ralts, the quieter one, whispered warnings like cold knives.

Others howled and thrashed inside the void, hundreds, maybe thousands, clawing at the edges of his restraint. Their essence hissed and warped, seeking freedom. They felt his desperation. They knew their master’s life was slipping away.

"You created us! Let us do what we were made to do!"

He felt Ralt’s voice echo in his mind.

But Kai didn’t release them.

He wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

His arms were broken. His mana reserves low. His skin bruised and blistered and raw from the sheer pressure of Grim’s blows.

But if he let the undead out here, now, in front of thousands, it would be over.

Not just the tournament.

Not just the Arena.

Everything.

His secret. His life. Vepice’s freedom. His goals.

It would all be gone.

"If I die here... fine. But don’t you dare come out."

His eye twitched, teeth clenched, his body barely holding together.

Grim raised another hand.

Kai couldn’t dodge.

His body had slowed, his mind fogged from the pain and blood loss. He couldn’t even lift his arms to block.

"This is it..."

Grim’s fist came down like the wrath of a god.

And Kai refused to fall.

He pivoted, just enough. The punch glanced off his shoulder instead of shattering his skull. The momentum still sent him sprawling, but he rolled.

Barely.

He coughed blood as he landed, and still, he kept the undead inside.

Even as their rage built to a roar. Even as the shadows behind his eyes clawed at his brain.

Even as Joe, who once obeyed every order without question, screamed:

"MASTER, ENOUGH! YOU’RE GOING TO DIE!"

Kai’s blood-slick lips curled into a grim smile.

"Then I’ll die as me. Not some monster for the world to hate."

Pain came thundering across his body.

Blinding. Splintering. Unrelenting.

Kai didn’t know how long it had lasted. Minutes? Seconds? An eternity? The blows had blurred into one another, each new strike layered over the pain of the last. His body was failing. Bones cracked, nerves burned, muscles tore.

His breath came ragged. Shallow. Then, barely at all.

Sight?

Gone.

Blood had pooled into his eyes, sealing them shut. Even if he could force them open, there was nothing but darkness now. Darkness... and heat. Dampness. His face was wet. Was it sweat? Blood? Tears?

He couldn’t tell.

He couldn’t care.

Still, he clenched down on his magic.

"Don’t let it fade... Please, gods, let me keep it..."

His illusion magic. That veil that kept his true form hidden. That protected Vepice. That guarded his secrets. He poured everything he had into it. Not into shielding, or striking back, or summoning death.

Just that one spell.

’Don’t let them see me... Please...’

And then a voice.

Yelling. Distant, but close. Male. Familiar.

"Stop it!"

Another. Female. Sharp and desperate.

"He’s already down! Gods, he’s not breathing!"

More voices followed. Shouts. Gasps. Screams. The crowd? Officials? Friends?

He couldn’t tell. The pain swallowed everything but sound. And even that was starting to fade.

"Let us through!"

"I said STAND DOWN!"

"He’s going to die!"

One voice pierced the rest. Her voice.

Vepice.

Or maybe... it was just his mind conjuring her in his last moments. He couldn’t be sure. Her voice trembled, wrapped in fury and fear.

"You promised you’d survive..."

The strikes had stopped.

No more pain.

But that didn’t help. The pain was already there. It had soaked into his bones, his blood, his soul.

He twitched, barely aware of the stone floor beneath him. Warm. Sticky. Had he bled that much?

His thoughts unraveled. Like thread pulled loose from a tapestry. His mind was falling inward. Slipping away from his body. Like drifting in water, deeper and deeper, until the surface was a memory.

His hands twitched weakly.

One last thought.

Not a curse. Not a spell. Not a scream.

Just a plea.

’Let the illusion hold. Please.’

And then the world went still.

And silent.

And black.