Chapter 892: Parallels [4]

Tharvek watched the wound heal in real time.

The skin beneath Rhizen’s jaw pulled together, leaving a dark line that disappeared beneath the blood. A moment earlier, Tharvek had felt the jawbone break against his knuckles.

And yet⎯

Rhizen was now moving his jaw normally, drawing another breath as he raised his sword.

"...Again."

Rhizen’s voice reached his ears.

Tharvek’s gaze moved towards the sword.

He stepped inside its reach, turning his shoulder past the edge before driving his palm into Rhizen’s chest. The impact lifted Rhizen onto his toes, but his hand was already reaching towards Tharvek’s sleeve.

Tharvek caught his wrist.

Crack!

The wrist bent beneath his grip. Rhizen’s sword dipped, and Tharvek brought his elbow across his face before forcing him backwards.

Even then, Rhizen tried to swing.

The blade scraped against the gray covering Tharvek’s arm.

’Still?’

Tharvek tightened his grip, feeling the damaged wrist move between his fingers.

Then it pushed back.

Ba... Thump!

Tharvek’s eyes narrowed.

Beneath his other palm, still pressed against Rhizen’s chest, he felt a slow heartbeat.

The wrist in his grip suddenly straightened, pushing his thumb aside as Leon turned the sword towards his neck.

Tharvek let go of his wrist and leaned away.

The sword passed beneath his chin.

"What...?"

A surprised voice carried from the stands. Tharvek heard another shortly after, followed by the scrape of seats as people stood to see better.

Rhizen stumbled after him, blood running from his mouth.

The crowd grew even more surprised.

Tharvek could hear it in the pauses between shouts, when the crowd waited for Rhizen to fall and watched him suddenly get better out of nowhere.

He understood their confusion.

Tharvek caught the next strike against his forearm and drove his knee into Rhizen’s stomach.

BANG!

"Uekh!"

Blood struck his clothes, but he watched the sword rather than Rhizen’s face, moving before the next attack could reach him.

Just because he could heal fast, it didn’t mean that the difference between the two no longer existed.

’It must be some sort of bone skill. It can’t last for long.’

He only needed to remain calm.

He couldn’t lose control.

He⎯

"...Hold it steady."

A long-forgotten voice drifted through Tharvek’s mind.

The bowl trembled between his small hands hands as he stood beside a dining table with both arms stretched out in front of him. The bowl was filled almost to the rim with water, his eyes drifting towards the man at the dining table from time to time.

He could still feel the burn of his shoulders.

The trembling of his feet...

The endless thirst.

Still, he didn’t let go.

He kept his arms straight.

The man continued eating without so much as looking at him.

"Keep it steady."

Tharvek’s hands trembled further.

It had been a month since his father’s passing, and his life was no longer his.

Before, he could sit when he was tired. Eat when he was hungry. Put something down when it became too heavy.

Now, even that required somebody else’s permission.

His arms trembled again.

A single drop slipped over the edge of the bowl and struck the floor.

The man’s spoon stopped.

Tharvek froze.

For several seconds, neither of them moved.

He held his breath, desperately trying to stop his hands from shaking, only to feel the trembling grow worse.

So he slowly let the air out.

Then, he took another slow breath.

He couldn’t decide when he was allowed to lower his arms.

He couldn’t decide when the punishment ended.

But he could still decide when to breathe.

Across from him, the spoon finally moved again.

Warmth slipped between his fingers.

Tharvek lowered his gaze.

Blood...

Rhizen had caught his palm with the edge of his sword.

Tharvek opened his hand, letting the blood fall as the sand beneath them dyed with the color.

"...Haha. Really..."

The grains stopped moving around his feet.

Then the entire arena shook.

A low whistling sound travelled beneath the stands as the sand rose in long, shallow ridges, carrying the blood and scattered debris with it. Leon’s footing tilted, forcing him to plant his sword before the ground could throw him sideways.

Tharvek let his shoulders loosen.

His outline broke apart, scattering with the sand.

The sand became an extension of his body, spreading his awareness across the arena. He felt the sword buried in it, the pressure beneath Rhizen’s heel, even the faint drag of torn cloth as Rhizen tried to straighten.

Everything touching the ground reached him.

Tharvek moved beneath Rhizen’s feet.

A ridge rose against the back of Rhizen’s knee while the sand beneath his other foot slid forward. His stance broke, and Tharvek gathered beside him, driving a fist towards his exposed ribs.

As if he had eyes at the back of his head, Rhizen turned around.

So did his sword.

Tharvek’s arm scattered before the edge of the sword collided with his fist, the grains passing over Rhizen’s shoulder before gathering behind him.

BANG!

His heel struck Rhizen between the shoulders.

"Ukh!"

Rhizen fell forward, but darkness spread beneath his hands before the sand could swallow him. He pushed against it, dragging one knee beneath himself as Tharvek formed several metres away.

Rhizen looked up, his eyes sharp.

He looked no different than before, his injuries healing in real time as his eyes scanned every nook and cranny of the surroundings.

He was... waiting.

Tharvek raised his hand.

Sand folded over Rhizen from both sides.

For a moment, only the tip of the sword remained visible. Then darkness forced a narrow gap through the yellow, and Rhizen came through it with his shoulder lowered.

His skin was completely ripped from his forearm as he charged ahead.

Tharvek watched him in silence as his fingers curled.

The ground beneath Rhizen’s next step dropped.

"⎯⎯!"

Rhizen sank to his knee, and Tharvek emerged in front of him, bringing his palm down towards his head. He planned on ending this quickly, but before his hand could strike down, Leon brought his sword up and intercepted the attack.

No, instead of intercepting, it was more like...

CRACK!

He let his arm shatter under the attack as he aimed his sword towards Tharvek’s head.

BANG!

Rhizen’s head snapped backwards as his sword narrowly missed Tharvek’s head.

Tharvek had just barely tilted his head in time as he drove Rhizen into the ground with a solid small to the chest. Sand burst around them, briefly hiding the two from the stands.

Still...

Rhizen didn’t seem to be affected at all as he felt Rhizen’s hand close around his ankle.

Tharvek looked down.

Blood gathered beneath the boy’s entire face. His breathing was barely stable, but the fingers continued tightening.

Then his chest rose.

The depression beneath his collarbone slowly filled.

Tharvek’s mouth tightened.

’It’s getting faster.’

His healing...

It was getting faster.

’How!?’

Tharvek pummelled Rhizen onto the floor once more, landing a clean hit against his head.

But when he was about to follow with another attack, Rhizen had already pushed himself up, forcing himself free from Tharvek as he pushed back.

"⎯⎯!"

There was less cheering now.

Beyond the thinning veil of sand, Tharvek could see people leaning over the railings, their mouths open as they watched Rhizen retrieve his sword.

"...You... should be fed."

There was no doubt about it.

Tharvek was sure of it.

And yet⎯

Rhizen came towards him, his damaged leg dragging for two steps before beginning to bear his weight again.

Tharvek watched the darkness around his knees starting to take shape and take form of a domain.

Each time the sand gathered there, Leon forced it away. Some sand still reached him, tearing his skin as blood leaked everywhere, but much to Tharvek and the audience’s shock, his skin would heal in real time.

As long as he could move forward, he would.

Tharvek extended two fingers.

Mana sank into the engraving along his bone.

A deep ache passed through his arm. He had kept the skill unused throughout the fight, not expecting him to use it, but it seemed like he could no longer keep it hidden.

Rhizen stepped closer, raising his sword.

He was now standing a few meters away from Tharvek, the sword aimed straight for Tharvek as he activated the engravings within his bones.

And at the same time he did⎯

The blade stopped.

Leon’s body froze with one foot still leaving the ground, his eyes widening as his shoulders strained against the invisible force enveloping his body.

The darkness around him shuddered, trying to break free from the restraint, only for it to fail as sand gathered along Tharvek’s outstretched hand, compressing into a thin line as he lowered himself and swept it beneath Leon’s knees.

Swoosh!

The restraint over Leon’s body broke as he felt his body again, but before he could act, he fell face first against the sand.

THUMP!

The sword slipped from his hand as he struck the sand.

For several seconds, the arena was silent.

Tharvek straightened, dispersing the line around his fingers. The sand carried Leon’s severed legs aside while blood spread beneath Leon’s body.

"H-aa..."

The sound made Tharvek pause.

He drew another breath, only then noticing how heavily his chest was moving. Sweat had gathered beneath his collar, and the arm through which he had channelled the bone skill continued to ache.

He slowly lowered it.

It had taken more than he’d intended.

But—

A faint scrape reached his ears.

Tharvek looked down.

Leon’s fingers were digging into the sand.

His elbows bent, dragging his body forward a little before one hand slipped. Blood smeared beneath his palm, and his head dropped between his shoulders.

Tharvek waited.

The hand reached out again.

"...You..."

For the first time, the word left him without anything to follow it.

Leon pulled himself closer, a trail of red dragging across the sand with each one of his movements.

His sword lay between them, just beyond his fingers. The bleeding beneath his knees was slowing, but there was nothing there for him to stand on. ℯℯ𝘭.

Still, he kept moving.

Tharvek watched the hand stretch towards the hilt.

A finger bent beneath the weight. Straightened. Dug into the sand again.

For a moment, his figure overlapped with another, causing him to stop.

He had watched it from above, with both hands wrapped around a railing.

’....’

The man below didn’t look up.

He never did.

That was the last time Tharvek had seen him.

The man known as his father.

"Finish him!"

"Stop wasting time!"

Even the cheers were the same.

Now those same fingers he had once remembered were reaching through the sand.

He remembered the fingers spreading beneath the sole of his opponent. The way his father tried to pull them, trying to drag his opponent down with him.

Then the opponent raised his weapon.

Tharvek didn’t look away.

He never saw the blow.

He heard the crowd instead.

The cheers. The screams. The degeneracy.

The opponent’s hand moved again. This time, it was facing the sky.

Tharvek’s hand similarly raised as he looked down at his opponent.

There was no trace of emotion within him as he felt the hand reach for his ankle.

And just as he was about to pull down...

"...You already..."

A voice reached his ears.

Leon had lifted his head. Sand clung to the blood along his lips, and his voice barely carried across the distance between them.

"You already have... all of this."

His voice was hoarse, almost broken.

Tharvek looked at him directly. But despite this, he could still hear the shouts and screams of those around him.

All of this...?

Unknowingly, his gaze rose towards the pale sun above the stands.

For a moment, he remained looking at it.

Then Leon’s voice reached him again.

"...When?"

Tharvek slowly lowered his head.

Leon’s fingers were still trying to close around the sword.

"When... is it enough?"