The arena floor shook under the weight of the demons. Claws raked the sand, fangs clashed, snarls rose like a storm. And in the middle of it all, a lone figure blurred through the chaos — Kairo, crimson eyes burning, his chains carving arcs of steel and blood.
The faceless crowd shrieked, their hunger rising with each corpse that hit the ground.
But above, in the shadowed galleries, other eyes watched.
Igron leaned against the railing, his expression unreadable. His lips twitched faintly as Kairo flash-stepped through another beast, his fists splitting its ribs apart in perfect rhythm.
"He endures," Igron murmured, low enough that only those nearest could hear. "Even when he should already be bones."
A chuckle answered him. Deep, grinding, like stone breaking.
From the shadows beside him stepped a figure wrapped in black, its skeletal frame glinting faintly in the torchlight. Its body was tall, thin, every inch of its flesh fused with bone, armor and skeleton melded into one. Its skull-like face grinned without lips, hollow sockets burning with pale fire.
The Boneyard Demon.
His voice rasped like knives dragged across marrow.
"Mmm… strong bones. Refined. Hardened by pain. His skeleton would sing if reforged into a blade."
He licked his teeth, each one a jagged fang of ivory. "I can already feel the balance… yes, a sword from those bones would split even gods."
Igron's eyes narrowed slightly, though his face remained calm. "You see only bones. And yet he is not dead."
The Boneyard Demon's grin widened.
"Not yet."
They both turned back to the pit as the demons surged. Kairo blurred again, chains whistling, his fists striking in rhythm. The Judgement Dance carried him through the tide — but every movement dragged blood from his body, every strike a step closer to collapse.
The crowd screamed for more. The demons howled.
And from above, the watchers whispered — some mocking, some hungry, one calculating, and one — Igron — silent, his gaze sharper than the rest.
The boy was still alive.
But the night was long, and ninety-nine demons did not tire.