It was at that point that I understood what I had missed. The Empousai were not combatants. At least, not really. They were masters of illusion, of deception, of weaving magic so subtle and intricate that reality itself bent to their whim. This arena was their playground, and I was a mere toy. The cheers that had once thundered in my ears, roaring like a symphony of triumph, now faded into nothingness,a white noise devoured by the abyss.
I stood alone in a barren coliseum, the crowd vanishing like dust in the wind. Athena and her child sneered down at me from above, their very presence mocking me. Moments ago, I had felt like a king, standing on the precipice of victory. But now? Now, I realized I had been nothing more than a fool dancing on the strings of a cruel marionette. How pathetic. How utterly, disgustingly pathetic.
Why had I believed, even for a second, that this trial would be simple? That my punishment would be light? That I, in my arrogance, could stride into this arena and emerge unscathed? It had barely been ten minutes, and yet I had deluded myself into thinking I could conquer something beyond my understanding.
My sword felt heavy, heavier than it ever had before. My body felt leaden, my will crumbling beneath the weight of my own hubris. I tried to reason, to strategize, to think my way out of this trap, but logic held no power here. I looked at the Empousa,not a single scratch marked their bodies. They had broken me without lifting a finger. Their smiles were knives, and I was on the verge of shattering.
They had wanted this. They had planned for this.
From the moment my personal trauma had been exposed, they had whispered it back to me, carving it into my mind with every trial, every illusion, every failure.
Damn that goddess. Damn her wisdom, damn her cruelty, damn her sadistic amusement. How dare she treat my fate as if it were a plaything? She was no Moirai, no weaver of destiny. She was a strategist, and I was merely another piece in her grand game.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to look once more at the Empousai, and that was when I noticed it.
Hope.
Their breathing was ragged. Their movements were sluggish. They had made a mistake. An illusion of this magnitude, one powerful enough to fool me so completely, had drained them. They were not invincible. This was my chance. My moment to strike down beings far greater than myself. But what if this was another trick? Another deception?
Why couldn't I see myself winning? No. No, I couldn't do this. I couldn't. They walked toward me, slow and confident. Three of them. A perfect, unified force.
I didn't want this. Why was this happening to me? Why did my own talent, my own strength, warrant punishment? And why a punishment so brutal, so suffocating?
No.
I would not stop.
I would not kneel.
Even if I were to die here, I would make them suffer. I would swing until my arms were torn from their sockets. I would charge until my legs collapsed beneath me. If I had to, I would bite and tear and rip and claw my way through their flesh. I would kill. I would hunt. And then, I let it take me.
The madness.
My vision warped. The fibers beneath their skin became clear to me, and I reached for them. I seized them, plucking their existence apart, thread by thread.
I laughed.
I laughed though I could barely stand.
"Oi, you demonic bitches!" I howled, my voice raw with rage. Another talon carved across my chest, and still, I laughed. "Tell me, do you feel fear?!" Another blow sent me flying, my ribs cracking beneath the impact.
"You will rue the day you decided to enchant me with your petty tricks!" My blade swung wildly, aimless, merciless.
"Aren't you having fun?!"
Because I was. Oh, I was. Blood coated the arena. I no longer knew who was bleeding more. I didn't care. I swung without defense, without hesitation, without thought. And then, I saw it.
Fear.
Their eyes darted to one another. A silent question. How? How was I still standing? I didn't even know the answer. My pride had long since withered. Now, there was only hunger. Hunger for blood. Hunger for the kill.
How marvelous. How beautiful.
The pain was euphoric. The blood is intoxicating. No sensation could compare. And the cherry on top? The absolute delight?
The terror in their eyes. They feared me. A mortal. A nobody. A creature they would have once dismissed without a second glance.
They screamed. I laughed. They had no choice but to fight, but one of them,one of them broke rank.
How delightful.
This was it. The weakness. The flaw.
But I did not strike her down. Not yet. No, I wanted them to witness something far greater. I wanted Athena herself to see what happened when basic strategy was discarded. I wanted her to witness a force that defied norms, that rejected sanity.
I wanted her to witness me.
The moment their heads turned, looking at their sister, my blade struck. Blood blinded them as I forced my weapon toward both their throats.
One head rolled. The second Empousa, the one still standing, caught my blade in her maw. The audacity. I didn't stop. I forced the blade further, through the jaw, skull, spine.
The sound of shattering bone was followed by another sound, one that filled me with loathing. A metallic twang. My blade had snapped.
That corpse. That wretched, worthless corpse. It had broken my sword. I had wielded it for a month. I had grown fond of it. It was mine. And she had the gall to break it. I pounded my broken weapon against her corpse, again and again, until the hilt itself shattered.
No matter. I no longer needed a blade. I turned to the last one, the weakest link, the coward who had tried to run.
I walked slowly, savoring her fear. She deserved it. Her sister had broken my sword. She may not have done the deed herself, but that did not matter. My rage would not be quelled.
I stood before her, waiting.
Would she strike? Would she fight? Would she prove herself worthy of even a sliver of respect?
No.
She sat there, frozen, paralyzed by terror.
How pathetic.
I rained hell down on her. Perhaps I was reminding her of Tartarus. Perhaps I was simply indulging in my fury. She babbled something, some gibberish plea.
I did not care.
I kept swinging.
Five minutes passed. She stopped moving. A bell rang.
But I did not stop.
I struck again. And again. And again. Until her very body faded from existence.
Then, at last, I turned to the notification that had been waiting for me.
Trial Complete.
3 Empousa Slain.
Grade Achieved: A.
Allocating Rewards…
New Skill Unlocked:
Unbroken Swing
A desperate sword strike that refuses to stop, cutting through all in its path as if resistance does not exist. It can only be used when the wielder's body is too broken to swing their blade, driven forward by sheer madness. Though powerful, its force is wild and uncontrollable, leaving the user vulnerable after the strike.
I let my body collapse.
Darkness took me.
And the throne room awaited.