Part B – The Madness Breaks Speed
The Arena shook with the storm of voices above.
Kael staggered to his feet, spitting blood into the dirt. His breath came ragged, chest rising and falling rapidly. He had cut Gu Kuangren more than a dozen times. Wounds that should have slowed any man, should have drained their strength…
And yet the giant stood tall, crimson eyes blazing brighter than the torches. Blood ran in rivulets down his chest, soaking into the soil, yet his grin was wider than ever. His long black hair clung wetly to his face, wild and feral.
Kael's jaw clenched. He was faster. He was sharper. But he could feel it now—Kuangren's madness was eating at him, pulling him into its rhythm.
"No…" Kael whispered to himself. "I won't let your insanity swallow me."
His twin blades spun in tight arcs, faster than before, gleaming silver under the torchlight. The crowd leaned forward, the chant softening as tension coiled in the air.
High above, Zhu Zhuqing's claws scraped against stone as she watched. Her golden eyes flickered from Kael's blades to Kuangren's bloodied frame.
This should be Kael's victory, she thought. Speed always beats brute strength… unless—
Her breath caught.
—unless the brute is fast enough to read the dance.
Kael lunged.
Not a straight dash this time, but a weaving blur, left-right feints, spinning arcs of flashing steel. Each slash carved a line of silver light through the dust-choked air.
And Kuangren… laughed.
He spun the mace with surprising grace, the iron head whistling as it battered aside the first blade, then the second. He didn't dodge every strike—he didn't even try. Cuts sliced his arms, shoulders, even across his ribs, blood spraying with each hit.
But every cut carried him one step closer.
Kael felt it—the way Kuangren moved inside his rhythm, forcing him to react faster, push harder. Every exchange left him more frantic, more desperate.
"Monster!" Kael spat, voice breaking as their weapons clashed again and again. "You should have fallen already!"
Kuangren leaned close, crimson eyes blazing with hunger.
"Fall?" His voice was a ragged whisper. "No. I rise… with every cut you gift me."
The crowd was no longer cheering. They were spellbound, some standing, some covering their mouths. They had come for sport, but what they saw was something else entirely: a man who drank agony like wine.
Some muttered prayers. Others whispered in awe.
"The Crimson Shadow… isn't human."
Kael screamed and unleashed everything. His body blurred into a whirlwind of blades, his speed pushing past its limits. Steel cut the air with a shriek, slicing at Kuangren from every angle. Sparks and blood filled the pit, torchlight flashing across the chaos.
And then—
With a roar, Kuangren dropped the mace.
He let Kael's blades cut into him, deep and merciless. His left shoulder split open. His thigh bled freely. His crimson eyes flared brighter, his teeth bared in a grin of pure ecstasy.
And in that moment, with his bare hands slick with blood, he lunged.
Kael's eyes widened. He tried to pull back, but Kuangren was faster now—driven by madness, by instinct, by the rhythm of slaughter.
His massive hand caught Kael's wrist mid-strike, crushing bone with an audible crack. The blade fell. Kael screamed, but Kuangren didn't stop. His other hand seized Kael's throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.
The Arena gasped as Kael's feet kicked, blades flashing uselessly in his other hand. Kuangren squeezed, blood dripping down his arm, crimson eyes locked onto his prey.
"Speed is nothing," he growled, voice shaking with savage delight, "if you can't outrun death itself."
And with a brutal twist, he slammed Kael headfirst into the dirt. The crack of bone echoed through the Arena, silencing the crowd.
Kael twitched once. Twice. Then lay still.
Kuangren rose slowly, drenched in blood—his and Kael's mingled together. His chest heaved, his crimson eyes scanning the stunned crowd. His grin returned, sharper than ever.
"Faster," he roared up at them, voice echoing. "Send me someone faster! Stronger! Let me drown in it!"
The Arena erupted—half in terror, half in ecstasy. Some chanted his name again, voices trembling:
"Crimson Shadow! Crimson Shadow!"
Others turned away, unable to watch, whispering of demons and madness.
In the upper shadows, Zhu Zhuqing's golden eyes burned with something new. Not just shock. Not just fear.
But fascination.
He shouldn't exist, she thought, claws digging deep into stone. And yet… he does.
Her heart beat faster. She could not look away.