Chapter 895: Brothers [2]

BANG!

The sand closed around Leon just as his hand pressed against his chest.

Tharvek appeared beside him, driving his elbow into the side of his face before he could recover. Blood scattered through the air as Leon staggered, but his sword was already moving, forcing Tharvek to turn his shoulder away from the approaching blade.

The edge caught his sleeve.

Tharvek struck again, his palm sinking into Leon’s ribs as the ground rose behind him, leaving him nowhere to retreat.

Crack!

He felt the bones give beneath his hand.

Then he felt them move back.

Tharvek’s expression stiffened as Leon caught his wrist and pulled him closer. A sword rose between them, its edge scraping along the gray covering his forearm before reaching his elbow.

He dispersed the arm immediately.

Sand spilled between Leon’s fingers, and Tharvek gathered several metres away, looking down at the blood running towards his palm.

The cut wasn’t deep, but his fingers trembled as he tried to close them.

’...Again.’

He looked up.

Leon was already approaching. The wound beneath his torn shirt had closed, and even the swelling along his face was disappearing as he raised his sword.

There was hardly any time between the two anymore.

The injury and the recovery.

Tharvek tried to slow his breathing, only to feel something tighten beneath his ribs. The ache spread towards his throat, and another dark vein appeared beside his mouth, joining the one that had already reached his eye.

His gaze briefly shifted towards the stands.

The people were watching him.

Some had stopped halfway towards the exits. Others remained pressed against the railings, their hands still raised from when they had been shouting.

But there were no cheers now.

Only silence as they looked down at him.

Tharvek’s jaw tightened.

"...How much longer?"

The sand rose with his voice.

Leon lowered his shoulder and pushed through it, darkness gathering beneath his feet as the grains tore across his arms. His sword came low, scraping against Tharvek’s palm before abruptly turning towards his throat.

Tharvek leaned back.

The tip passed beneath his chin, and Leon stepped closer, placing his other hand around the hilt as he brought the blade down again.

This time, Tharvek didn’t move away.

Sand caught the sword above his head.

Leon immediately tried to pull free, but the grains had already closed around his wrists. Tharvek raised his hand, forcing Leon’s arms higher as the sand united into one single line and slashed vertically.

Swoosh!

Blood struck Tharvek’s face.

For a moment, it felt as though nothing happened.

But then...

Thud! Thud!

Two dull sounds reached the front rows as they struck the sand, both of Leon’s hands falling to the ground.

Tharvek stepped forward.

He wouldn’t give him time.

The gray covering his palm thickened as he drove it towards Leon’s head. Dark veins spread across his temple, and the sand beneath his feet sank from the force of his next step.

Then something moved beside Leon’s shoulder.

Ba... Thump!

Tharvek saw the torn flesh draw together. He saw fingers curl where there had been nothing a moment earlier.

His palm had yet to reach Leon when a hand closed around his wrist.

"...!"

The sword disappeared from the severed arm.

A metallic glint flashed beneath Tharvek’s chin.

Without thinking, he twisted sharply, breaking Leon’s grip as the blade cut across the side of his neck. His knee struck Leon’s stomach, forcing him away before he could follow through, but Tharvek’s own foot slid backwards through the sand.

He stopped and touched his neck.

Across from him, Leon’s arms hung by his sides.

...whole.

His fingers moved around the sword as though he was trying to feel the hilt properly. Then he glanced down at the two arms lying between them.

His lips parted.

Even he seemed unable to understand what had happened.

Tharvek stared at the same sight, his breathing growing heavier as the veins beneath his skin continued to spread.

He had severed his legs before... And they had healed. But the speed at which his hands had healed was on another level compared to his legs.

"You..."

The word barely left his mouth before the mana in the surroundings intensified as Tharvek’s chest rose and fell in quick succession.

He was starting to feel the strain of the fight.

Sand lifted from the exposed stone, gathering high enough to obscure the nearest rows.

Leon’s head rose.

A sharp pain passed through his chest, briefly taking the strength from his fingers. He nearly lost the sword, catching it with his other hand as the darkness around his feet shuddered.

Tharvek didn’t miss the sight.

He was already moving.

BANG!

Aoife’s hand slipped from the railing.

She barely noticed until her palm gripped the stone again, her gaze remaining fixed on the space where Leon’s arms had fallen.

"...Did you see that?"

Anne’s voice trembled beside her.

Even she found it hard to contain her shock.

Aoife didn’t answer. She was watching Leon raise the same arm Tharvek had just severed, watching his fingers tighten around the sword before another collision sent sand sweeping across the arena.

An’as had gone completely still.

His mouth opened once, but he closed it without saying anything, his gaze moving between Leon and the blood scattered beneath him.

"How is he doing that...?"

Anne looked towards him, then Aoife.

Neither had an answer.

Beside them, Evelyn leaned farther over the railing, trying to follow Leon through the ever-moving sand. Her hand lifted slightly whenever he was struck, only to stop as he stood again.

All around them, the people watched with the same expression.

They had seen limbs grow back before. They had watched the victors drink the red liquid and return from injuries that should have left them crippled.

But Leon hadn’t drunk anything.

And Tharvek hadn’t stopped hitting him.

It was a one-sided fight. One where the Dune Conqueror did nothing but toy with his opponent, and yet...

Despite everything he had done, Leon was still standing.

"H-how?"

Just... what in the world was happening?

"K-kkh!"

High above the stands, Kiera stared at the arm holding Leon’s sword.

She had seen it fall.

Even from here, she had seen it clearly.

Her fingers loosened around Dawn’s wrist, and her lips moved as though she wanted to call Leon’s name. Before she could, the sand folded around him again, hiding his figure beneath another impact.

Kiera jerked forward.

Dawn’s free hand closed around her jaw.

"...Watch."

His fingers pressed against her cheeks, keeping her face turned towards the arena as she tried to twist away.

The pale sun continued to shine beneath them, its light stretching across the city and the crowded platforms below. Above it, a pair of golden eyes followed the two figures moving through the sand.

Dawn’s expression remained unchanged, his focus solely on the dark veins sprouting on Tharvek’s features.

Kiera could feel his grip tightening as she struggled, the pressure forcing her teeth together until her jaw began to ache.

"L-let..."

The word broke inside her mouth.

She pulled at his wrist again.

This time, her fingers closed a little farther.

A dark vein crawled past the corner of her eye, branching towards her forehead as warmth spread beneath her skin. Her arm no longer felt quite as weak as before.

Below, Leon struck the ground.

Kiera’s breath caught.

’...He doesn’t need your help.’

Her fingers paused.

The voice had been so quiet that she almost mistook it for her own thought. But then another followed, overlapping with the first before she could understand where it had come from.

’The one that needs help is you, not him.’

Kiera shook her head as far as Dawn’s hand allowed.

The whispers continued.

’You’re useless.’

’...Just accept it.’

They came from somewhere inside her, growing clearer whenever she pulled against the hand keeping her in place. Mana stirred through her arm, gathering beneath fingers that had barely been able to move a short while earlier.

She tightened them.

Dawn’s wrist moved slightly.

Kiera felt it, and her heart suddenly beat faster as she pulled again, putting everything she had into the movement.

The hand around her jaw tightened considerably.

"...Kh!"

Pain spread across her face. Her head was forced down, but even then, her fingers refused to loosen.

The veins beneath her skin darkened further.

Through the gaps in the sand, she could see Leon standing again. She couldn’t understand how he was still moving, or why his body kept putting itself back together.

She only knew that Tharvek was already approaching him.

’...Let go.’

Her nails pressed deeper against Dawn’s skin as the strength continued to gather inside her.

Still, the Great Sun looked down.

His attention lingered over Tharvek’s face, following the dark lines that now stretched across his forehead. Then his gaze moved towards the balconies again.

Towards the people watching.

His lips parted slightly.

But before any words could leave them—

"Hueeeeeek!"

A terrifying screech echoed from beyond the highest platforms.

It carried across the city, reaching the stands and the crowded passages while the last of the sand was still falling through the air.

Then the pressure arrived.

Kiera’s chest tightened so abruptly that she couldn’t draw her next breath. Her fingers stiffened around Dawn’s wrist, and she tried to raise her head despite the hand keeping it lowered.

Something was above them.

She couldn’t see it, but her body had already begun to tremble.

Below, the people pushing towards the exits stopped. A man reached for the shoulder in front of him, missed, and dropped to his knees. Those beside him barely reacted, their faces slowly turning upwards.

Even the whispers became difficult to hear.

The pressure continued to descend, settling against Kiera’s shoulders until she felt as though the entire city was being forced deeper into the ground.

Dawn didn’t raise his head.

His golden eyes remained fixed on the arena.

Leon’s sword stopped halfway through its swing.

Tharvek’s hand remained raised in front of him, the gray covering his fingers still thickening as the veins across his face pulsed.

Neither moved.

The sound continued to echo inside Leon’s ears as he slowly looked past Tharvek, towards the highest walls of the arena.

His wounds were still healing.

He could feel the torn skin along his stomach pulling together, could feel the warmth moving through his arms.

Yet his fingers wouldn’t stop trembling.

Tharvek slowly withdrew his hand.

Leon looked at him.

The Dune Conqueror was staring upwards, his lips parted slightly as the sand began to fall around his shoulders. For several seconds, he seemed to have forgotten that Leon was standing in front of him.

His foot shifted backwards.

Only a little.

Leon felt his own knees threaten to follow.

’W-hat... is that?’

He tried to look farther, beyond the pale light washing over the upper walls. The pressure was growing heavier, making each breath shallower than the last.

Then something stirred in front of him.

Leon lowered his gaze.

A figure stood between them.

He hadn’t seen him arrive. One moment there had been nothing but falling sand, and the next, someone was standing there with his back towards him.

Leon’s grip tightened around the sword.

He tried to speak, but before he could, a quiet mumble reached his ears.

"...This was the only way."

Leon’s eyes constricted.