The tournament continued in severed limbs and broken bones. Ten men had fallen. The Wanderer’s sword had shattered against a shield three fights ago, leaving him to tear through his opponents with his bare hand and magic. Inside him, the fourth circle was being formed, permanently this time. But with each hit he landed or received, with every rotation of his mana circles , a piece of his mind crumbled. He was barely recognizable as a man, covered in blood, his mockery stunts stopped, even words became less, speaking was a heavy chore, as the Spiral took over his body, he lost control over his mind.
Then, the shadow fell over the gate.
"A fight between the master and the apprentice!" Adilan’s voice was high with excitement. "The mad dog himself!"
Valak stepped onto the sand. He looked older, his armor stripped away, replaced by simple linen wraps around his knuckles.
"Ssssarge?" The Wanderer said in a heavy tongue. "What what are... you here?"
Valak looked at the sun, tears running in his cheeks. "I'm sorry it came to this, son. Skida... She didn't let me leave. She took my daughter before the march."
The Wanderer’s expression turned angry. "Sss... Skida!"
"She gave me an option," Valak whispered. "We fight to the death, or..." He couldn't finish, covering his face, hiding his shame and grief.
Then hardened his face, taking a fighting stance.
. "Fight me! Don’t hold back, or I will not hesitate to kill you!"
"I... I... I can't ffffight" The Wanderer clawed at his own throat, screaming in frustration as the Spiral's hunger surged, trying to overwrite his will. "I can't control... LEAVE!"
"I'm sorry, son!" Valak roared. He flared his mana and blurred forward. His punch, wreathed in fire, caught the Wanderer square in the chest, sending him skidding fifty feet across the sand.
"Fight me, goddamn it!" Valak screamed.
The Wanderer struggled to his feet, his body twitching. He was a stranger in his own skin, fighting himself not to fight.
Valak dashed again, a flurry of military strikes. The Wanderer didn't resist nor defend, taking a kick to the ribs, a jab to the throat, a sweeping blow that sent him back into the dirt. Valak lunged, pinning him down, raining punches onto his jaw.
"You still have your life ahead of you, idiot!" Valak sobbed. "I'm an old man! Let me die as a warrior!"
A terrifying mana surge sparked around the Wanderer’s body, throwing Valak away in an explosion.
The Wanderer’s grief in his eyes was replaced by the Spiral’s unforgiven blue glow.
He stood up like being pulled by strings, throwing himself into a diagonal spin, even faster than before, moving to Valak slashing with the - magic reinforced - edge of his palm.
Valak raised his arms in a standard guard, his eyes widening as the Wanderer’s trajectory shifted mid-air. The magical blade bypassed Valak’s parry and opened a diagonal cut across the Sergeant's shoulder to his hip.
Valak stumbled back, his breath hitching as he looked at the glowing blue blood on the Wanderer’s hand.
"That's it," Valak whispered in a smile between the tears. "That's my soldier."
Valak jumped away against the pain, conjuring a volley of fireballs. The Wanderer moved through the flames, his body twisting in a fluid dance bypassing every blast. He dashed forward in a spin again, Valak swept his leg low to trip him, but the Wanderer adjusted mid-motion, redirecting the momentum of his rotation into his shin. Valak spun across his hip, only to be met by a follow-up kick that shattered his nose.
Blood sprayed across the arena floor, his magic barrier didn't prevent the hit. Valak pushed himself up, slamming his palm into the sand, conjuring a sheet of ice across the pit. He sled across the slick surface as he used to, jumping high as the Wanderer flipped on his hand dismantling the ice beneath him.
Valak roared, coming down with a flaming kick while a dozen ethereal fire-swords conjured in the air behind him, all homing in on the same point.
The Wanderer flipped his entire body vertically, using his arm as launching pad, he whipped his leg upward, meeting Valak’s descent and shattering the Sergeant’s knee mid-flight.
Valak hit the sand on his back. He tried to stand, but his leg gave way. He stayed on his knees. He let his arms down to his side, then looked up at the Wanderer, who had landed in front of him with an expressionless face.
The Wanderer’s hand moved towards Valak’s chest.
He dismantled Valak's flesh and bones, grabbing his heart.
Valak’s eyes widened, the light in them beginning to dim. He choked out a final rasp. "My daughter... take care of her."
The Wanderer’s fingers twitched around the heart. For a fraction of a second, the blue void in his eyes flickered. A single tear carved a trail through his cold face.
Then he squeezed.
Valak’s body went limp, his head laid on the Wanderer’s forearm as life left him.
"This is madness!" Adilan shouted. "Our hero is unstoppable! Even his own father figure was nothing before him!"
The Wanderer pulled his hand back, letting the Sergeant’s corpse fall into the dirt. He stared at his bloody palm, that began trembling.
"NO!" he screamed.
He covered his face, his fingers clawing at his skin, leaving crimson trails of Valak’s blood across his forehead and cheeks.
Then, broke into laughter… louder and louder until it wasn't human. His feet left the sand as he began to levitate, his body trembling as the laughter and screams merged into one.
His chest suddenly heaved, as if something inside trying to break free, his skin split over his ribs. His ribcage forced itself outward, revealing a sight that made the remaining audience members freeze in horror. His internal organs were visible, no longer human organs, they were glowing in mana as if he conjured them.
Around his heart, the four mana circles spun, grinding against each other. Then, a fifth circle began to manifest, breaking Skida’s ethereal chains between the grind.
Each heartbeat sent a visible ripple of gravitational force through the arena, cracking the stone seats.
"RESTRAIN HIM!" Adilan screamed at the guards, his voice cracking with terror. "RESTRAIN HIM NOW!"
The guard standing next to him looked at the levitating nightmare in the pit, then at his own useless spear. He dropped his weapon and sprinted for the exits, joined by the screaming crowd fleeing.
The Wanderer’s skin continued to tear and stitch itself back together in real-time, expanding and warping as his muscles grew and re-formed to contain the pressure of the new form.