Chapter 116 - I Alone Am Worthy Of Honor

"Above heaven, below heaven...I alone am worthy of honor."

As the words traveled from his consciousness and into spoken words, he felt a burning sensation glide across both of his sclera, intensifying on his irises. It should've been painful, enough to send him into a convulsive state--yet, it only felt like pressure being applied to his orbs of sight.

"Is this pain the price for speaking such arrogant words?", he thought to himself, but the question answered itself as the words flowed directly into his mind.

"No...This is the reward for claiming those words for myself. A consequence of being the strongest--the lone honored one in this world full of impurities."

What he needed most came to him--not raw power or heightened senses, but the will to go through with that he refused. The one who would open their eyes would not be the boy who feared becoming a murderer, but a self forged of the desire to live.

Even if it was a momentary reprieve, his blade wouldn't be coated in fear for now.

As his eyes set upon the sight of the being that should've been dead, the killer instinct he embraced so fervently had briefly faded.

"In my decades of strife, slaying foe after foe—I've never seen something like this, I know for sure my blade reached him. There isn't any way somebody could shrug off a strike like this," Goldheve thought as he couldn't avert his eyes from the sight.

The deep slash that had sunk into the young man's neck, eviscerating his jugular—it seemed as if it was nothing more than a paper cut. Crimson that had stained his deathly pale skin evaporated off of his body into a mist of vibrant scarlet. As horrifying as a sight it should've been, there was a peculiar divinity about it.

He hadn't so much as twitched a finger until this moment, shrouded in the steam that emanated from his pores. Awakening from a tranquil dream that was his true reality, his eyelids parted gently to reveal eyes, not of this world.

In place of his irises were gilded wheels that seemed to see all, past falsities and only the truth. A focused gaze upon these mystical eyes would see the intricate details that made up his golden diaphragm, running along each end of the radiant wheel.

This was—"Heaven Earth Disconnect."

The first words to leave his lips, a taut tone that left no space for doubt.

"You had something like this up your sleeve, huh? So this is what you Mages call an "innate ability", is it? ...I can't stop shaking, my own damn body wants to run. That's how I know...This is the fight I've been looking for!"

Finally forcing words out of his stunned self, Goldheve laughed at his own reaction to the phenomena. It didn't matter what his body told him, how much his instincts urged him to run—he was a true warrior, a connoisseur of battle.

"Eight Vasu: Prithvi. Agni. Vayu. Varuna."

Departing his torn cape from his body, his light brown skin shifted into a reddened hue as his veins pressed against the exterior of his body. A torrent of fiery winds picked up around his body, spiraling as the embodiment of his mystical strength.

"...Are you done yet?"

The detached tone that came from his opponent sent Goldheve into a frenzy, pushing out every ounce of power he had within his body, pushing it out through his pores as he singed his own skin.

A set of arms formed of crimson flames sprouted from his back, drawing two blades from the sheaths on his sides—holding four blades with a smile as twisted as they come.

"Don't blame me if I make this a lot more painful than it has to be. You just make me want to go all out!"

"—Just hurry it up already, would you?"

That was all it took to lift Goldheve from the land he stood, sending himself forward with a burst of speed that blew away a chunk of stone beneath his foot.

"A slash from the left…"

Ren commented as he dodged the incoming strike, leaning back as the fiery blade passed by his flowing locks.

"...And another from below—a vertical slash, attempting to catch my chin."

As he predicted from his monotone commentary, the gilded-eyed young man reared his head back, looking up towards the barren ceiling as the attack whisked past its target.

Turning up the heat, the swings became faster, more frequent, yearning to meet the flesh of the swift mage. A subtle difference, but it was noticeable—the way Ren evaded the incoming steel wasn't just reflex, it looked more as if he knew the path the blades were traveling.

"Is he fucking with me? It has to be a fluke—a lucky guess, there's no way he can predict my attacks!" Goldheve's mind raced as his blades only met air.

Those golden, wheel-shaped eyes of his—even standing below him, those irises made it feel as if he was being looked down upon.

"—I'll carve those damn eyes out of your skull!"

All four of his sword-wielding appendages dragged through the air, coated in spiraling flames as rage consumed the maddened warrior. Finally responding with an attack of his own, Ren clashed his blade against all of the incoming flaming blades, unleashing a vibration through the stone below.

"You're hard to hit, but you don't hit hard!"

"—"

He moved and spoke, participating in the battle--yet it was obvious even to the man sunken into the battle that the young man before him wasn't truly conscious. He was driven by the sole purpose to win, guided by an ascended instinct

Thrilled laughter roared from Goldheve as he sank deeper into the lull of battle by the moment, his skin shifting into a vibrant crimson, blood vessels popping as his sclera was dyed to a red.

"Stay your blade and I'll allow you to live."

"Allow me to live? Do you know the situation you're in, bastard?!"

"Your body is deteriorating. Using four of your Vasu simultaneously must be too much for you to handle. My victory is inevitable, I am dictated by fate to be the victory."

His vacant concern was met only with Goldheve throwing him back with overwhelming force, sending him nearly into the dark waters as the heels of his boots sat at the edge. In response to the uncaring advice he gave, Goldheve slashed at the air--unleashing sharp blades of wind that soon combusted as they neared contact with their target.

By the moment, the physical condition of the fiery warrior devoid of reason lessened, shaping more and more to become something inhuman. Even so, withstanding such agony as a result of his glutton for battle, Goldheve's viscous love for the act didn't falter. Each time he struck the air in an attempt to hit Ren, his blades carved through the air as if trying to slay the very concept of it.

Dodging one of these strikes, Ren countered by using his free arm to put Goldheve in a lock, pushing the man's elbow against his back.

"Concede."

Only a laugh was given in response to his try at mercy, tightening his grip on the man's wrist as it felt as if he was holding onto molten iron.

"You still don't get it, do you?! Giving up is the last thing on my menu! Dismember me, decapitate me, I don't give a shit! Someone will die here! Whether it's you or me, that's up to our blades to decide!"

As Goldheve smiled ear to ear, his skin holding a devilish red from the extreme heat, a burst of flames releases from his body--forcing Ren to release his hold.

"...Do you not feel any pain, bastard?"

Freed from the hold, the fiery man cracked his shoulder. Without so much as a flinch from his golden eyes, Ren raised his hand, briefly inspecting the boiling, melted away flesh from the palm of his hand before looking back up at his opponent.

"Pain is a safety net provided by your body that warns you of potential danger. I am currently not in any danger."

Ripping off the sleeve of his long-sleeved black tunic, Ren wrapped it around his burnt hand as a make-shift bandage.

"At least that's one thing we have in common! Pain is nothing but an abandoned concept on the battlefield, a hindrance to the raw, true form of man!"

Bringing his arm back for another strike of his blade, the crimson essence that Goldheve manipulated warped around his jagged sword, extending into a massive greatsword of scarlet flames. Even in the still labyrinth that provided no winds, the world's breath screamed out in response to the release of mystical flames.

"Let's see you dodge this one, you golden-eyed bastard----!"

It didn't take a genius to realize that there was no avenue of retreat on the small pavilion, watching as the pillar of hungering flames roared out from Goldheve's blade, holding a smile of absolute glee as he unleashed everything he had.

"Come, Hama Yumi."

As Ren raised one hand to the air, a luminescent wind gathered above his open palm, a short glow consuming the vision within the bounds of the light before fading.

Sitting in Ren's palm was a finely crafted bow, stretching a length that surpassed his own height. Decorated with stripes of black over the light-brown complexion of the base material, it gave off a sublime air.

The sight had stolen Goldheve's attention as he watched Ren slowly set the bow, drawing the string back as a feathered arrow manifested between his fingertips. As soon as the bowstring had been pulled back, a gentle breeze emanated from the young man's position--causing the rampant flames to shrink in fear.

"The--the hell is a flimsy bow going to do against my flames?! If you're feeling suicidal, then be my guest, Ren!"

"--Hama Yumi is a bow that wards off evil. This includes those with negative karma, such as yourself, Goldheve."

A swipe of the fire-manifested, towering sword unleashed a tidal wave of sharp, condensed flames backed by an army of savage inferno. Releasing his hold of the mystically manifested arrow, it torpedoed through the air--colliding directly against the hostile wall of flames approaching. The sound of cackling flames, spewing embers, and turning the dark stone to ash had disappeared--as did the flames, as soon as they made contact with the unknown arrow.

Left agape at the simple do away of his attack, Goldheve narrowly avoided the arrow as it missed his forehead, piercing through the wind with divine grace.

"Where did this come from…? All of this power? I'll admit, I didn't think you were too bad before, but this doesn't make any sense."

"It was with me all along. You just opened my eyes to it, so--thank you, Goldheve. That's why I'll give you one last chance to end this scuffle."

"Scared it'll stay on your consciousness? Haunt your dreams? What business did a kid who never killed somebody have coming to a place like this? That's all you are...A kid! I've nurtured this strength, cultivated my body in bloodshed since I was a child. Whipped, beaten, facing death more times than I can count--I've lived a life you can't even imagine! I can't accept it! You surpass me just because of a fucking ability you never before today! How is that fair?!"

"...You only lose what you cling to. Abandon that pride and accept defeat, follow me through this trial, Goldheve. There is no shame in being defeated by the honored one."

Facing the man consumed by emotion, clenching his teeth with so much force that he may shatter them, Ren calmly extended his hand towards him.

"--You're too kind of a soul for a place like this. You'll never make it out, Ren."

"Just concede, Goldheve. As I am right now, I don't have any qualms liberating you from your flesh."

The not-so-subtle threat, almost sounding like gentle kindness from the detached look in his golden-wheeled irises--Goldheve couldn't help but smile at those words as he pulled his hand back, tightening his grip on his blades.

"To hell with that---!"

"You brought this outcome onto yourself."

Taking a leap back, Ren let out a quiet sigh from his lips before holding his sword up. A wheel of flames rolled after him as Goldheve cartwheeled across the weathered floor, tossing forth a heated wind towards his opponent. The movements the man-made were unorthodox, spinning about and twisting his limbs in ways that seemed only possible with the absence of bones.

Approaching with blade spinning in the air, rumbling the stone below under his might--Goldheve missed his mark once more as Ren sidestepped the incoming offense.

To call it a "sidestep" would be giving too much credence to the effort exerted by the stoic young man, who simply turned his body one way without any stress to hasten his movement.

His gilded eyes watched the four-armed man carefully, analyzing his expression as he searched for an ounce of remorse in his insanity-driven battle. Even as he missed his swings, the cackling never stopped, only increasing as his own flames heated his body to the point that his own arterial fluid began to evaporate from his pores.

Through his ceaseless battle, driven forward only by the prospect of blood and glory--Goldheve had displayed his true nature to the judging eyes of Ren.

"Manjushri."

It came out in a faint whisper, a golden flame lighting itself across the fine steel of Belus. The transcendent beauty of these gilded flames, whispering atop the sword's sharp nature consumed even the bloodlusted man's focus if but for a moment.

The movements performed by Ren transcended his opponent's comprehension of what was happening before his eyes, attempting to hone his hawk-like gaze on his majestic footwork. Between his fingers, Belus spun in an entrancing blaze, forming a wheel of flames that further obscured Goldheve's understanding.

No defense came in the way of Belus as Ren slid the blade directly through his opponent's chest, hitting his heart with perfect precision.

"You're a real monster, aren't you, kid?"

Coughing up a spat of blood, Goldheve coughed out a frail chuckle as the black markings faded from his skin as did the persistent, mystic heat.

"--I don't know what you did to me, but I don't appreciate you erasing my anger with this fucking blade of yours. Kill me, defile my corpse--but don't taint my twisted soul with your high and mighty bullshit. I don't want your fucking blessing or repentance."

As much as he tried to conjure his rage, the man couldn't wipe the unrelenting smile from his face. His cheeks trembled as he tried to combat the grin, slowly reaching him and gripping onto his own lips. Goldheve maintained eye contact with the still eyes of his victorious opponent as he screamed out before ripping his own chapped, scarred lips from his face, along with a portion of his cheek.

Loose skin and hanging muscle now accompanied the obscured smile as a pool of crimson painted his once pearly whites.

"I'll part you with some knowledge, kid. You've earned it," Goldheve laughed as clots of blood spit out from the jagged hole in his cheek, "...There are secret rules to this place. One of them...If you're killed by another participant of the trial, there's no coming back--that's it."

"--What? Hold on!"

Emotion had returned to Ren's lifeless expression, looking down as he attempted to withdraw the blade from Goldheve's chest--who grabbed his wrist with a dry chuckle.

"If you ever make it to the second floor, that's where I hear the real fun begins. Now, if you'll excuse me...I think it's time I finally take a long nap."