The air in the arena changed suddenly.
The blood that had soaked the cracked stones, the heavy breaths that came from Ashen as he fell to his knees—none of it mattered before the new scene.
From the charred cracks on the ground, from the torn corpses that covered the edges, something strange erupted… blood fire.
It was not ordinary fire. It was not like the flames humans know. It was an exploding sea of burning blood, flames that breathed, screamed, and laughed.
The entire ground turned into a red hell, flames licking the sky, devouring everything around, melting the scattered bones, turning the graveyard into a living inferno.
But the strange thing… the fire did not harm Ashen.
His torn body, drenched in blood, was surrounded by a faint aura, as if the flames knew him, as if they were waiting for him.
He felt something heavier than just fire: a savage intent.
It was not a single intent, but thousands stacked together, merging in this blood fire, forming a wave of savagery that struck his mind and heart all at once.
"This… is not fire… it is the rage of the world itself…" Ashen muttered, his chest rising and falling with every breath, his eyes widening as the flames grew.
Suddenly… in the middle of that red hell, something began to form.
The flesh ball.
From the clotted blood left after the copy was destroyed, from the torn pieces and shattered bones, the remains gathered.
A strange mass began to grow, swelling… a disgusting ball of flesh, pulsing like a sick heart, twisting in silent screams.
Each pulse released a foul stench, the smell of rotten flesh mixed with foul blood.
The twisted skin wrapped around itself, as if a demonic hand was kneading it from within.
With every second, the scene became more nauseating, more disturbing, more terrifying.
For the first time since the start of the ordeal, Ashen felt nausea.
He was not only afraid of the shape… but of what it represented.
— "The battle isn't over…" he whispered, clenching his trembling, bloody fist.
The fire suddenly no longer stayed on the ground.
It rose toward the sky, twisted around itself, forming a red vortex, and then… an eye.
A blood eye the size of a continent, staring at everything.
The pupil was black as annihilation, the cornea burning with flames that would not die.
One eye filled the entire sky. One look from it made the graveyard tremble, and the drums at the edges fell silent for a moment.
Then came the voice…
It was not human, not beastly, but something beyond understanding.
A giant, deep voice, striking the heart before reaching the ear.
Each word was like a hammer crushing the soul.
— "The ordeal… is not over."
Ashen froze in place.
His torn body no longer responded, his eyes widened as if about to burst.
That voice carried something irresistible: a primal terror, a fear older than language and logic.
Then something worse happened…
The eye was not only watching.
Red rays came out of it, like fiery threads, piercing Ashen's head, embedding themselves in his mind.
Ashen screamed, fell to his knees, clutching his head with both hands, his blood-soaked hair sticking to his face, the echo of pain filling his chest.
Images… memories… words… bled into his mind.
He saw a warrior standing in a similar arena, his body massive, his eyes burning.
He saw that warrior fighting endless copies, each one more savage than the last.
He saw his fall, saw his body turn black, saw his soul torn apart but still remaining…
He heard his name whispered: "The Upper Nirvana…"
The voice of the eye continued, cold and without emotion:
— "That black skeleton you destroyed… was his real body. The copy was nothing but the remains of his soul. An ancient warrior, of the ninth level… the Upper Nirvana. His ordeal was the same… but he failed. He died. His soul filled with savagery. It became a curse, became a monster."
Ashen gasped for breath.
Bloody tears flowed from his eyes as he realized the weight of the disaster.
— "So… I was fighting… the remains of a warrior from the Upper Nirvana?" His voice came out broken, each word tearing his throat.
— "Yes." The eye answered coldly.
— "His only hope was to defeat you without killing you, so he could take over your body. But you destroyed his body… now, even if he kills you, he will remain only a mad soul, an endless savage intent."
Ashen clenched his teeth, blood dripping from his mouth.
Every cell in his body screamed: "No escape… no solution… only hell."
He raised his head, faced the giant blood eye, and shouted in a choking voice:
— "How… do I end this ordeal then?!?"
The eye was silent for a moment.
That silence was not emptiness, but carried the weight of an entire world.
Then came the answer:
— "This is your ordeal… you must discover it yourself. The strong survive… weakness is sin."
The voice was like a sword, cutting hope apart.
— "The fight… continues."
In an instant, the eye vanished.
The flames that formed it did not disappear completely… instead, they rushed into the ball of flesh still twisting in the middle of the arena.
Disgusting screams erupted from the flesh ball, screams that were neither human nor animal, something between crying and laughing, something that made the bones shiver.
The flesh stretched, veins burst, blood splattered in every direction.
Limbs grew randomly, bones broke and reshaped, muscles tangled together.
The face was no longer a face, but a mask of horror.
And in the end… it appeared.
The twisted giant.
It no longer resembled Ashen in any way.
It was only a swollen entity, a cursed beast pulsing with blood, its aura filled with evil savagery, its eyes empty—no mind, no reason, only pure savagery.
Ashen, despite all his despair, felt something deeper: this was no longer an opponent… this was savagery itself given form.