Leon was staring at Arkan, and in his eyes eternal malice was boiling. Sparks were flying from his gaze, and the roar of his blood was deafening his ears. Everything inside him was screaming: This man is going to die.
Noticing the spark that flared in Leon's heart, Arkan put an ironic smile on his lips. Then, suddenly, he kicked Elise's body with his foot, and she rose off the ground by a mysterious force.
Leon screamed and tried to grab her, but the air itself seemed to slap him away. She rose higher and higher, until she was hanging in the middle of the hall, her body swaying like a doll with its strings cut.
With a blink of an eye, Arkan's sword flashed through the air. The black blade split the stillness like lightning, cutting Elise's body in half.
Time froze. Leon saw her halves falling in deadly slowness, her blood splattering on the walls, her blood-soaked hair flying. Part of her body landed at his feet. His heart trembled until it almost tore apart.
Arkan said coldly, in a tone that penetrated the soul:
— "Oh… it seems we have won this time as well."
Something in Leon's mind broke completely. Anger seized him on all sides, and he no longer saw anything but his uncle's face. A monstrous cry erupted from his chest, and he shot forward like a rocket.
He raised his left arm, his punch bursting out like thunder. The air itself exploded around his fist. But Arkan repelled it with a fleeting touch, as if toying with a child:
— "You've become faster than last time… but still, far too slow."
Arkan vanished before him and appeared behind his back. The feeling of danger ignited all of Leon's senses. A cold blade neared his heart. He bent his body in an almost impossible twist, dodging the fatal strike by a hair's breadth. At the same moment, he raised his hand to counterattack, but his inner voice screamed: Stop! If I continue… I'll lose my arm!
He retreated sharply. Arkan raised his eyebrows in slight surprise:
— "Good senses… at least you can feel death approaching."
No more time was given. The sword turned with lightning speed to cut Leon in half. But Leon's fists struck the blade, forcing its trajectory aside. His arm muscles nearly tore under the pressure. In the next instant, he lunged with his left elbow in a vicious rotation.
The blow struck Arkan's face directly.
Explosion!
Arkan's body was hurled backward, flying like a meteor crashing into the earth.
Leon did not wait. He caught up before Arkan could fall. His knee smashed into his chest, followed by a torrent of blows: a punch to the ribs, an elbow crushing the left side, another cracking down on his skull.
Leon roared with animal fury, hammering Arkan's head. Every strike was a cry of his soul, every punch a curse upon fate. The skull bones began to shatter, blood splattered, his uncle's face turning into a deformed lump. And yet Leon continued. His fists rained down like a violent storm, until the head beneath him became nothing but a crushed mass.
He gasped for breath, his chest rising and falling as if an engine were about to explode. Sweat poured down, his hands dripped with blood—he did not know whether it was his own or his enemy's. And yet he kept striking like a madman, as though his mind refused to accept that he had stopped.
Elsewhere…
The sun blazed at its peak, pouring fire upon an endless desert. The scorching sand stung the feet, and the air burned the lungs with every breath. A row of children trudged forward, weighed down by chains. Their feet bled, their bodies were nothing but bones wrapped in cracked skin.
Among them was a little boy carrying a girl on his shoulders. Chains bound their hands and necks. Every step was torture, but the boy did not stop.
He whispered anxiously:
— "Elise… do your feet hurt? If it's unbearable, let me carry you more."
She raised her head with difficulty, her dry lips cracked:
— "No… I'm fine…"
But she did not finish. Her body suddenly collapsed, her face striking the sand.
— "Elise!" the boy shouted. "Get up! Please, before the guards notice…"
But she didn't move. Her eyes trembled as she tried to respond, but her body betrayed her.
The boy bent, pulled her with trembling arms, and tried to lift her. His frail muscles screamed in pain, but he pushed them to the limit. Finally, he raised her onto his shoulders again. He almost fell more than once, but continued, his legs wobbling with every step.
The other children looked at him mockingly. They knew well: whoever lagged behind was punished. Yet this fool slowed himself down by carrying an almost unconscious girl.
One of the guards approached. His face bore only one eye; the other was a hollow pit. In a hoarse voice, he said:
— "Better take it easy on yourself."
The boy did not answer.
The guard continued:
— "Is she your relative? You look alike… who's older?"
The boy clenched his teeth, sweat pouring, but stayed silent.
The guard smirked.
— "A word of advice. Where you're going, it won't matter if you have a friend, a brother, or even a father with you. Everyone there is an enemy. The closest ones will kill you just to survive."
The boy lifted his head, his eyes blazing despite his weakness:
— "Thanks for the advice… but even if you're right… in the end, I'll die protecting my sister."
The guard froze. His feelings wavered between anger at the boy's defiance, insult, and perhaps a hint of admiration. Finally, he said coldly:
— "Do as you wish. But remember… if you don't arrive on time, you'll all be punished. And if you're the last one… the punishment will be even worse."
Then he walked away, leaving the child staggering in the sand.
Elise whispered weakly:
— "Brother… maybe he was right…"
He cut her off stubbornly:
— "Don't believe him. Just a fool speaking nonsense."
Elise gave a faint smile, whispering:
— "I miss Dad and Mom… why didn't they come back for us? They said they would take us away from this place…"
The boy's face froze at the sound of their names. Anger burned in his eyes, but he said softly:
— "Yes, sister… they will definitely come back for us…"
He continued walking, the sun scorching his skin, but he cared for nothing except keeping his sister on his shoulder.
In the palace…
Leon kept striking Arkan's body until his hands lost all feeling. At last, he slowed, his breath ragged. It's over… it's over.
He wanted to escape, to leave this hell, to find a way to explain everything to the children. But—he stopped.
His eyes widened. His body froze.
From his chest… a black sword had pierced through, skewering his heart mercilessly.
He turned slowly.
There—behind him—stood Arkan. No scratch. No bruise. His golden eyes gleamed as ever.
— "No way… how…?"
Arkan smiled coldly, whispering in a voice like a death sentence:
— "Still a foolish child… truly."
He slowly pulled out the blade. Blood burst from Leon's chest, his body staggered, then dropped to his knees. A freezing cold spread inside him. He tried to shout his wife's name, but no sound came out.
He collapsed face-first into a pool of his own blood. Darkness swallowed everything.
The last thing he heard before the world vanished… was Arkan's mocking voice echoing over his death.