A strangled cry tore out of Ken's throat at last. It wasn't loud, but it forced its way out. Pain pierced his defiance, and death began to glimmer at the edge of his sight. Yet his hands refused to surrender. He raised them with difficulty, as if the air itself weighed him down. He pressed his palms toward the snake strangling his neck… and then the spark came.
A red blaze flared from his hands. Fire burst from his skin in a single surge, searing the snake's flesh. For the first time, the serpent screamed—a sharp, unnatural cry—and writhed in madness.
It only tightened its grip further, choking him harder and harder until smoke and burning light hissed between Ken's skin and the snake's scales. The stench of scorched flesh, Ken's racing heartbeat, and Zerov's cold gaze made everyone forget this was a test, not an execution ground.
Whispers swelled in the crowd. Some covered their mouths, others exchanged stunned glances. None had expected to see Yukaji Ken on the ground, choking like a rat in a trap.
Mabushi's eyes tracked every detail, as though etching it into memory forever. Ken himself was sinking into agony. His vision blurred, his chest heaved in useless gasps, his fingers trembled, and the light in his sight dimmed. It looked as though everything would end here. But he refused to let it end.
Is this my end… like this?
How stupid. I misread his move… I misjudged the snake's timing…
Like I'm that child again… the child who watched fire devour his home and did nothing.
If I die now… nothing changes. Cirrus will laugh in his palace. My name will vanish. My purpose forgotten in some forgotten arena.
But I'm not ready to be forgotten…
No one will steal my path from me. No one.
He clenched his fists, veins blazing as if fire burned from within. Then suddenly—violently—he moved. An instinctive burst, raw and unstoppable. Both hands seized the snake, even as his body screamed. He tore it from his neck as though ripping death itself away.
The serpent shrieked, its body convulsing in pain, then flung backward, landing two meters away, trembling and inspecting its scorched flesh.
Ken collapsed to his knees, gasping like a beast crawling out of hell. No blood spilled, but something greater than blood coursed inside him—something called will. He rose, slowly, painfully, breaths aflame, but his eyes steady once again.
Akio shouted with unrestrained glee, leaping into the air and waving:
"Nice one, Keeeen!! You can do it! Show them who you are!"
Some turned toward him, but Ken, though aware of Akio's outburst, never glanced his way. Silent, eyes locked on his enemy, he tracked every move, every breath. His hand pressed against his bruised throat, still feeling the serpent's mark.
But Zerov gave him no rest. He stepped forward and unleashed another volley of poisoned needles, aiming straight at Ken's chest, seizing the moment of weakness.
Yet Ken, despite ragged breaths and aching flesh, exploded with an unexpected move. He leapt aside with force, rolling hard across the dirt, narrowly escaping the needles.
Dust flew. The ground gouged beneath his momentum. He reached his fallen sword, gripped it without hesitation, and spun just in time to meet the next wave of needles.
They clanged against the blade in rapid succession, like rain hammering a roof—but deadly. With every deflection, his balance returned, as if his body remembered again how to fight… how to survive.
When the last needle fell, Ken wasted no breath. His sword blazed, nearly erupting, every spark like fire dragged from the earth's core. He charged, storm-footed, a tempest of fury and resolve.
But then—swift as lightning—the snake reappeared before Zerov, lunging like a living shield. And it stopped him. At a cost.
The blazing blade pierced straight through its body. It wasn't meant for the beast, but its timing doomed it. Flame tore into its flesh, wringing from it a shriek so sharp the ground itself quivered.
Blood boiled in Zerov's veins. His dark skin seemed to glow from wrath. His eyes widened with madness, and his mouth spewed rage:
"Damn you! Damn all the Yukaji! Cowardly dogs! You'll burn—I swear you'll burn in your own fire!!!"
His voice wasn't a shout, but a collapse into chaos. He no longer saw Ken. He saw every ghost, every mockery, every wound that never healed. Thought abandoned him. He was nothing but a wounded beast, thrashing to strike back at any cost.
Ken stood still, watching the unraveling before him. No triumph on his face. No pity. Only cold stillness, ice in his eyes. A quiet laugh echoed inside him:
The plan is working… He hasn't seen anything yet.
When rage blinds, the next strike cannot be read. This was the moment Ken had waited for. The moment the hunter became prey… without knowing it.
He planted his feet and drove his sword into the ground at a calculated angle. Not to stab. To ignite. His words cut the air with sharp calm:
"Flame Kenjutsu—Inferno Abyss."
The stone floor cracked, pulsing like a heart collapsing. The fissure raced forward, faster than sight, roaring beneath Zerov's feet. In a blink, he saw the red glow swelling beneath him.
Then fire erupted. Ken's flames burst upward like a starving volcano. Zerov's scream ripped the arena, echoed by the serpent's own. The blaze showed no mercy, devouring flesh, armor, pride—until it felt the earth itself shared in the punishment.
Still, Zerov tried to rise. His charred body trembled, forcing itself upward, as if his will refused defeat. But his muscles betrayed him. He fell again, kneeling in rubble, screaming not from pain, but from a shattering deeper than wounds.
Silence struck. Then the director's voice thundered:
"Winner: Yukaji Ken."
The arena erupted. Cheers roared, hands clapped wildly, some screamed Ken's name, others lost themselves to frenzy. Akio jumped in place, shouting as though Ken were his oldest friend.
Amid the chaos, Ken did not move. He lifted his hand, snapped his fingers, and the flames obeyed. They vanished instantly, retreating from flesh and stone like servants dismissed. His gaze fell upon Zerov.
And then came his smile. Not joy. Not mockery. A smile of victory he knew he had earned.