"So you were rank two, you piece of shit."
Adam clapped his hands together, brushing off the dust that clung to his skin.
"I thought you were just naive... but turns out your confidence was built on strength after all."
His gaze sharpened.
"Where's Elar—"
The words died in his throat.
Kael's fingers had shifted subtly on the rod hovering beside him.
Then it moved.
No warning. No buildup.
The rod shot forward. Adam's eyes widened, then dropped to his chest. A gaping wound had torn clean through his heart.
He collapsed, kicking up a cloud of dust. With the last flicker of strength, he reached toward his mouth, tore off another finger, and forced it down.
Breath returned, and focus snapped back into place.
He pushed himself up on all fours, chest heaving, heart pounding.
"You really are a bastard, Kael… aren't you?"
He was just beginning to rise when he felt it.
Boom.
The golden rod crashed down from above like a lightning strike, piercing through his heart a second time and driving him into the dirt.
Panic surged.
He grabbed at the rod, blood rushing around his fingers, and grit his teeth. His other hand reached to his mouth and tore off yet another finger.
'Five fingers… fuck. Fuck. Fuck.'
He stared at his left hand.
All his fingers were already gone.
"KAEL, STOP!"
Adam screamed in desperation, raising his bleeding hand in front of him as he staggered to his feet.
A tense moment passed.
Then, cautiously, Adam lowered his arm.
Kael stood exactly where he had before, at the center of the crater, fingers resting lazily on the golden rod floating at his side. He hadn't moved a single step.
Adam exhaled, a flicker of hope returning.
"Thanks, Kael. I was starting to worry there for a second," he laughed nervously. "So you're rank two, huh? You could've just said so. We could've—"
The words never finished.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Kael sent the rod hurtling forward once again.
'Bastard.'
Adam saw it. Saw everything, the shift in his fingers, the blur of motion, the glint of gold.
But it didn't matter.
What was the point of seeing everything, if his body couldn't move fast enough to escape?
The rod slammed through his chest once more, ripping a fresh wound through muscle and bone. A sound escaped his lips, a wet, breathless rasp, as blood spilled down his front.
He bit down on his sixth finger, tearing it clean off his right hand.
'Attack or escape?'
Adam's eyes scanned the crater. He had to move, and fast.
His strength matched that of five fully grown wolves, while the eye floating above kept draining Kael's thoughts, feeding them to Adam, turning Kael's own mind against him.
But it wasn't enough.
'Whatever mote he's using, it counters my entire kit.'
He clenched his jaw.
Strength and mind pathways worked together perfectly, on paper. But perfection had its limits.
Yes, Adam could fight for hours without burning through his thought reserves. But not against Kael. If he could just close the distance, even for a moment, he might be able to level the fight. But Kael wasn't giving him the chance.
'That's probably why he's pushing so hard.'
Adam's gaze locked onto Kael.
'He must've sensed something was wrong, noticed his thoughts were shifting. That's why he went on the offensive. But how the hell did he notice that?'
Even amid the blood, the pain, and the panic, Adam felt a reluctant edge of respect. He had fought dozens of Luminaires. Most of them never even questioned what the eye above truly did, until it was far too late.
But Kael?
Adam couldn't prove it. But deep down, he knew.
Kael had felt it. The slight distortion in his thoughts. And he had acted, immediately and decisively.
Out of the hundreds of Luminaires Adam had faced, Kael was the first to ever notice.
'Is he even human?'
The thought chilled him.
And for the first time in a long while, Adam felt something else stir alongside his pain and fury—
Doubt.
'He got me good.'
Adam's jaw tightened, his expression bitter.
Kael hadn't just waited until the beast was dead, he had made sure to appear at a distance, just far enough to stay out of reach.
'He probably watched the whole fight, too.'
That thought soured everything. He felt played. Used.
Adam raised his foot and slammed it into the ground. A sharp crack rang out as a thick cloud of dust exploded into the air, blinding and dense. Visibility dropped to nearly nothing.
In the next instant, he launched himself forward, body low and fast, his entire weight behind the movement. A silhouette emerged just ahead.
'There you are.'
He drove his arm forward, aiming for the throat. But just before contact, searing pain shot through his wrist. His nerves screamed, something had pierced straight through it. A blade.
He didn't stop.
With a grunt, he swung his other fist in a brutal arc.
Boom.
It hit something solid. His momentum died instantly. His hand shattered from the impact, bones snapping worse than when he'd hit the King's skull.
"What?"
The word escaped before thought could catch it. He stumbled back, retreating through the settling dust.
And then he saw him.
Kael stood still, untouched and unmoving, the rod hovering vertically beside him.
'So that's what I hit…' Adam's eyes narrowed. 'Such a powerful mote.'
He lifted his wrist to his mouth, biting down on the embedded knife's hilt. With a sharp pull, he tore it free between his teeth. Blood flowed freely down his arm.
Without pause, he raised his right hand, took a breath.
And ripped off another finger.
'Three left…'
He stared down at his mangled hands, regret tightening in his chest, not just for the fingers lost, but for how far he'd been outplayed.
He dismissed the observing eye mote. He didn't have enough time to make use of it anyways.
Adam let out a breath and lifted his hands. Blood trailed steadily down his arms.
"I give up."
The words scraped against his pride as they left him, but there was no other option. He was drained, physically, mentally, and already down seven fingers. He couldn't afford to lose more. All he had left now was the hope that Kael might show mercy.
A long silence stretched after those words.
Then Kael finally spoke.
"Give me your motes."
Adam blinked. For a second he thought he'd misheard. The demand was so absurd it almost sounded like a joke. But the flat tone in Kael's voice said otherwise.
"You can't be serious."
His brow furrowed as he looked at Kael, searching for any trace of irony in his face.
The golden rod slammed through his leg. The bone cracked under the pressure as it passed through.
Adam dropped to one knee, catching himself with one hand. The ground was rough, grit pressing into his skin and into the open wound, but the sting was the least of his concerns.
'He's insane. He has to be.'
A cold sweat began to form on his skin, his breath uneven.
"You know how valuable motes are. You can't honestly expect me to hand them over. That's suicide. Giving them up means giving up who I am."
His voice wavered. He could barely control the panic bubbling up behind it.
He started to raise his hand, ready to tear off another finger and activate the healing mote, but the rod moved first.
It struck again, pinning his wrist to the dirt. The pain hit like lightning. Adam choked on the scream as his body twisted in reaction.
He barely had time to process what was happening when the rod vanished, only to fall from the sky again like a hammer of judgment. It smashed down on the same wrist, now barely attached. Bone shattered, muscle tore. He yanked his hand in close, cradling it against his chest in desperation.
But it didn't matter.
The hand hit the ground beside him with a wet thud, blood splattering across the dirt in thick arcs.
Dark red soaked into the ground beneath him.
His hand was gone. And Kael hadn't even moved.
Then at last, panic consumed him.
It surged through every nerve, drowning out reason, thought, and fight. His face went pale, lips trembling as cold realization set in. There was no winning. No mercy. Only the inevitable.
He began to crawl, one broken movement after another, away from the man who still hadn't taken a single step.
"Oh god… oh please. SOMEONE! PLEASE HELP!"
His voice cracked as he screamed toward the crater wall, into the empty sky, begging for salvation that would never come.
"SOMEONE, PLEASC—CAN'T DIE HERE—!"
The words shattered mid-breath, devolving into broken pieces, scraps of sound twisted by fear. Primal instinct had taken over. There was no dignity in it anymore, no pride. Just the raw will to survive.
Behind him, Kael remained still.
He watched in silence as Adam dragged his battered, blood-soaked body across the dirt, leaving a thick crimson trail behind. It smeared across the crater floor like the last signature of a man whose time had run out.
Kael raised his hand.
His fingers moved, not in anger, not in haste, but with the precision of a maestro beginning the final movement of a long, deliberate symphony.
Down. Right. Left. Right again. Up. Down.
Each motion controlled, clean. His hand carved through the air like a conductor guiding the final notes of a requiem. The rod responded without sound, dancing in the sky above as if tethered to his will.
Then, like the silence before a storm, everything paused.
And then, the next strike descended.
There was neither warning nor buildup, only the silent certainty of execution. Each motion preordained, etched by a will so absolute it could not be defied.
The golden rod came down in a flash, a streak of light that tore through Adam's back with a sickening crack. It exited through his ribcage on the right side, painting the air red as it twisted mid-flight. Without pause, it speared through his thigh, ripping muscle from bone as it passed through the right leg, then curved again, unnaturally fast.
It entered his left flank, punching through soft tissue, slicing past organs as though the body were nothing but smoke. It emerged from the other side, trailing blood in its wake, then dipped low, skimming the ground with lethal elegance before rising again.
Another turn.
It found his other leg, already broken and bloodied, and sliced clean through it. Then up, higher, carving through the air in a wide arc before dropping in a merciless plunge.
The final strike came like an anvil dropped by fate.
The rod pierced the back of Adam's skull, pinning his head to the blood-soaked dirt. His body twitched once, then went still, the crater falling into a deafening silence.
And high above, the rod hovered once more, gleaming like a divine verdict passed down in silence.
Kael glanced up at it and slowly raised his hand. He snapped his fingers.
The sound echoed faintly across the crater. Then, silence returned. The golden rod dissolved into shimmering specks, scattering through the air like dying embers before vanishing into the wind.
Kael exhaled quietly and walked forward, stepping over broken stone and darkened pools of blood. He came to Adam's lifeless form and sat down on him without ceremony, elbows resting on his knees. The weight sank deeper than expected with too many bones shattered to offer resistance.
His gaze shifted toward the crater wall, where the corpse of the King Wolf Tiger lay slumped.
"The only thing left…" Kael murmured, voice flat, almost casual, "…is to reap the rewards for myself."
He sat there for a while, eyes distant, letting the silence settle around him. The air was still and the forest watched in silence.
The battle had ended.
And Kael remained, alone with victory, content to sit in the silence it left behind.