Over the next few months Akonai, the Bronze God-King earned more money than ever before as wealthy gamblers, merchants, and thrill seekers journeyed from across the Akashtran Desert and beyond to watch Grim decimate hordes of monsters. Kasar grew as a fighter to a degree which his parents never expected or wanted. He knew in his heart if his parents laid eyes on him, though only a few months had passed between their death and now, they would barely recognize him.

  Their boy they raised on the road with love and care had turned into a wild killing machine.

  With Vorza as his mentor, a wild man as any, Kasar learned of monsters and mages which were only an old tale from his parents before. While his parents prepared him better than most on the road, Vorza trained him to specialize in survival, battle, and the variety of monsters he would face.

  He sparred with Sipha, Oshi, and the rest, honing his dueling skills. Kasar learned the ways people from different lands fought with different weapons. He couldn’t remember everything, but with enough sweat that drenched his tunic from daily practice, his muscles remembered. His youthfulness vanished after a few months and the fat around his cheeks chiseled down to the bone carving a sculpted face of iron. His arms and legs packed more muscle onto them, and his muscle definition reminded him of statues when he glanced at himself in the drinking well.

  Vorza chided him on self vanity before drilling him into the ground to humble him. Kasar continued his Devil training by spending a few days chosen at random blindfolded. The drills and sparring for that day, along with normal day to day tasks like shoveling manure from beasts, arranging their furniture, and scrubbing the floors he did blinded.

  Funnily enough, those were the easiest days of training. It also felt like he remained attuned to his parents' teachings while blinded.

  Sometimes he fought alone in the pits against vengeful Bronze Guard or monstrous hordes. Other times proud, bold, and powerful Beregar remained at his side with his dual scimitars. The two would cleave a warpath through various monsters brought in just for them.

  Other times, Sipha stood back to back with him, daggers drawn, a snarl planted on her warpainted face. Where Beregar fought like an unstoppable tidal wave, Sipha fought like the wind, hacking her way with deceptive speed and agility that rivaled Kasar’s. They’d spend the nights after together, recovering, drinking, eating, and talking about a life of freedom beyond the sands.

  One night she tried to kiss him, and he grew confused, worried that he’d upset her. He’d never kissed anyone before. She showed him that night how the Valkenians kissed. She also showed him many other things which made him blush to speak of, but he remembered fondly the days after.

  The fights where Oshi battled alongside Kasar, proved to be mystical experiences. She’d procure ashes from her pouch and scatter them before the enemy. When they charged in close, they’d erupt into a blaze of fire and smoke that coiled around Kasar as he dove forward for the kill. The fires protected him and sometimes empowered his attacks. Where his steel would have simply cut, it now burned. Vorza later told Kasar that she didn’t need the ashes. No mage needed an external device or tool. Though some used them only to overcome their own personal blockage.

  She was just superstitious.

  Whenever Rhind fought beside Kasar, Vorza warned the young Devil to keep his senses sharp. Rhind turned out to be a wonderful companion to have Kasar’s back, despite their minor scuffles in the past, and Vorza’s prejudices against his people. He fought like the storms: unyielding, unwavering, and swift. His two axes served as a spinning machine of death.

  After their fights, he always commended Kasar and said it was an honor to fight beside him. Kasar returned the niceties only to hear Vorza in the distance grumble under his breath about Ingstadian schemers. Old grudges died hard with the old Devil.

  Fight after fight, Akonai amassed his wealth and his fighters grew with every battle. Kasar no longer was a boy who barely fended off the Bronze Guard and hordes of monsters. He was a grim force to be reckoned with. One that perhaps Akonai felt had flew too close to the sun.

  ***

  Akonai stood with his Bronze Guard watching Grim and Beregar battle their way through a host of Groaners. They’d butchered such a large portion of their monsters that they needed to throw mere chaff at them to accommodate. The show must go on. After all, their monster hunters that captured these creatures couldn’t find them as fast as these growing band of misfits could kill them.

  However, Akonai grew restless and wary of his own audience’s disinterest in the fight. Soon enough the legend of Grim would reach a plateau and he’d have to create a new and larger spectacle. Such remained the struggle with show business. The stakes always had to creep ever up. The higher they went, the harder they fell.

  Akonai munched on his mutton leg and realized he’d torn through twice the normal amount and was still hungry. Not to mention the buzz from Akashtran wine didn’t nearly hit the same spot since he started drowning himself in Vrodian mead and liquor. Those northern bastards knew how to make a good drink.

  He saw Grim stand back to back against Beregar and slash against the horde of Groaners. One bite from their needle teeth and your skin crawled with such agony. In some places to the far west Groaner venom was considered a delicacy. Such drivel from backward people.

  He watched as the crowd cheered half heartedly at the victory. A grumble left his mouth. He needed a new spectacle. Someone who could kill Grim and his impudence for good. New blood. It’d almost been a year and already his myth started to grow stale. His rebellious nature started to grate him and while inside the pits it served as a good heel, outside of the pits, he sowed too much strife. He worried now with such unity as Kasar and his merry band possessed, they’d dare another uprising. The last one failed because no one imagined Akonai’s sheer power in magic.

  Now they knew his power.

  What the enemy knew, they could use against you. Even your own overwhelming arsenal.

  “Master?” asked Galdeen. He served as an advisor and merchant to Akonai and sported a fatter belly than Akonai would like to see every time. Granted he’d started to grow a pudge himself.

  “Galdeen,” said Akonai. “Grim. What should I do?”

  “About Grim?” He licked his lips as he eyed the remaining food on Akonai’s platter. “Well, master, I imagine he’s overstayed his welcome. The things he rambles on about. An idealist through and through. Most of the gladiators like him.”

  “Like they did Vorza once upon a time.”

  “Yes, master. I worry he will try something. And now his approval amongst the people have also gone down.”

  “I know. Just hear them cheer. A shadow of what it used to be. Soon the gold will stop flowing as it once did.” Akonai glared at the Vrodian bottle of mead. An expensive import from far up north. He licked his lips and shook his head. “I need a spectacle.”

  “Well, master, what of Vorza?”

  “Bring him back in? I suppose. An old war dog from an age past in these pits. I suppose a reentry could sell well.”

  “Well, not just that, master. Why not pit him against the boy?”

  “They love each other like father and son,” spat Akonai. “I already have one rebellious Devil.

  “What of the Blue Magic Trigger spell?”

  Akonai’s eyes widened. “He’d have to fight then.”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “I’d lose one Devil.”

  “And make a larger legend out of the other.”

  “A cruel and satisfying maneuver. Well done Galdeen.”

  “Thank you, master.” He shifted his balance from one foot to another.

  “Spit it out!” cried Akonai. He already hated having to scheme to subdue his own slaves, but to have his best advisor skirt around urgent topics tempted him to lash out with magic. He felt so exposed and so sensitive. Where was the glorious god-king? Where did he vanish to? Why did a pudgy and whining man child replace his throne? He steeled himself, checked his rage, and lifted his goblet for a sip.

  “ Well, it’s Grim. He’s been riling up the slaves. The soldiers are also worried. They don’t feel safe with so many emboldened by his words.”

  He wanted to crush his goblet and Galdeen’s head. The ripples of rage needed to end. “I know, I know,” muttered Akonai. “Get the Guard to bring him and Vorza to me. I’ll have to beat some manners into him. A life lesson of sorts.” He hated his soldiers now feared the merry pack of misfits. He knew they couldn’t last in a fight, but they could hold till HE arrived. Now he scarcely found the urge to get out of bed in the morning. He faced Vorza before and won, but he would never let loose the reality that he had barely won.

  Now there were two of them.

  This was getting out of hand!

  “I’ll gather the Guard. They are looking for a missing member of their order.” Galdeen stammered. “I worry about this missing Guardsman.”

  Akonai waved his hand. “Probably in some brothel. Or lying dead in a ditch. Who cares? Get the boy here.”

  “Right, master. Of course. Only that, they don’t go to brothels. They follow a strict regiment and routine.”

  “Damn Bronzies and their honor.”

  “Well, master, it keeps them in check.”

  Akonai knew all too well what would happen if the Bronze Guard decided on a coup on any one of the city states they defended in the desert wastes. Best if they keep their honor and customs and remain obedient warhounds. “Grim defaced them too. Used to be when the march of Bronze boots used to strike fear. Now they’re treated like common soldiers.” Soon enough the Bronze Guard will assume its previous reputation.

  “I understand, master.” Galdeen bowed. “I will fetch the Guard.”

  A Devil HAD to die.

  ***

  As the months passed on, Kasar realized it’d been a year since his capture. A year of enslavement. A year of butchery.

  He felt sick one morning at the realization and yearned for action. Yearned for some kind of defiance. So one day, Kasar started yelling profanities and arguments in the pits, at how together they could escape. Vorza tried to stop him, but he kept going. He never realized how easy it was to light a spark. He imagined these people broken and servile.

  However, his own prowess, and how the band of gladiators had grown closer in the year since his arrival, Kasar noticed they were itching for a reason to be rowdy. At least some of them were. The moment he started speaking, he saw Beregar give him an excited nod, and vanish away from the barracks.

  It was his reputation and force behind his words that stirred enough people, and a few of the soldiers parted from their posts to warn Akonai. When the gladiators noticed, many squirmed and glanced in fear as to what came next.

  Akonai would have lived happily and well with the current state of affairs. His money, his fame, and Grim’s own legacy that started to form around the Bronze City, bringing people and trade into it. However, he’d dealt with a Devil before. And now, it was time to break the unruly Grim and his false ambitions of freedom.

  “Kasar, please,” said Vorza, trying to get him down from the chair.

  Kasar shook his head. “No, Vorza,” he said. “We have fought and trained and I see men and women ready to escape. They are ready to fight and die for freedom.”

  Indeed around Kasar, several dozens stood and nodded along.

  “Akonai is powerful,” said Vorza. “The soldiers aren’t even the real threat.”

  “We’re just making a wealthy evil man richer by staying,” snapped Kasar.

  Sipha stood beside Kasar suddenly, atop the table. “Grim is right. We have two Devils. We have Beregar. We have me. We have all of you who have grown so much in the last year. Every fight you risk death. Why not risk it for freedom?”

  Many cheered and clapped. Kasar blushed at her words and even fiercer at her smile she flashed him.

  Rhind spoke up to quiet them all. “Because we all know while the fights are deadly and tough, we aren’t meant to lose.”

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  His words crippled any chance of rebellion. Reality struck them and even Kasar had to agree. Yes, they were the most lethal warriors around. However, if Akonai wanted them dead, they’d be dead. If he wanted them alive to earn him money, then he’d keep them alive. Only the lowest earners died, their gruesome ends to serve as a final display of spectacle for the blood thirsty crowd. Their death was weighed in the gold Akonai raked in.

  “But there will be a day when the audience becomes bored,” said Oshi, in a solemn voice. “A day that Grim is accused of getting into an easy fight. The people want to test Grim. They want to see him suffer so that when he wins, it is triumphant, and when he loses, as one day he will, it gives value to the rest of the victories that come after.”

  The gladiators knew their lives only ended one way.

  Even Rhind couldn’t argue.

  Several Bronze Guard stormed into the room, creating a rift between the gathered warriors. “Grim,” spat the new captain of the Guard. He stood taller than the rest, as tall as Beregar. “You’re to come with us. Same with you, Vorza.”

  The two Devils glanced at each other before obliging. Though Kasar gave the Bronze Guard a rap with his knuckles on the helm. “Old Grim,” he said. “Is that you? Thought you died for your honor.”

  The Bronze Guard sent a magically empowered punch straight into Kasar’s stomach. The gladiators winced as their hero doubled over. However, a grin still lay on his face. He looked up at the captain and clicked his tongue.

  “That's all you got?”

  “Kasar,” warned Vorza.

  The captain cocked his head and scoffed. “Take him.”

  They grabbed him and yanked him away, and he went out with a laugh and a whistle. Several of the gladiators glanced at once another, wondering what to do. Kasar knew now that those who still believed would play their part. Those that didn’t would come around when the blood started spilling.

  ***

  Akonai glared at the two Devils from his throne. The pits were empty and quiet below them in the moonlight. Though, Kasar saw the splotches of blood from the day’s events.

  “Sowing rebellion within my barracks?” asked Akonai. He looked fuller, as if he’d been gorging on more food lately. Perhaps he had. Kasar noted several more bronze platters than he’d seen before. They sat emptier than they had before.“Abusing my kindness with such behavior?”

  “Kindness?” spat Kasar.

  “Oh, yes, kindness,” said Akonai. “I turned you into a hero people come to watch. I gave you fights that you should win. I made a name for you, that you never could forge alone!” He inhaled a deep breath and Kasar could hear his heart thunder in his chest. Was he afraid? Angry? Excited? All of the above? He didn’t realize Akonai could feel such emotions given his powers. His own heart fluttered with hope.

  Akonai continued to speak his next words as if they above all held the most weight. “I never pitted you against your friends.” His lips twitched. “I imagined such mercies and boons would temper your spirit. Instead, you’re more childish and arrogant than ever.”

  Kasar’s jaw hung open. “We’re slaves!” he roared and his voice carried in the still night air.

  Akonai blinked as if so far removed from their plights, that he couldn’t see past his own revelry and wealth. HIS own revelry and wealth. All they had was fame and in this game glory was worthless because all of them met the same end despite the comforts and privileges they received along the way. “You think the world works in a very boyish way, Grim.”

  “Maybe it should. Ever think of that?”

  “No,” scoffed Akonai. “Because if it did, I couldn’t have the luxuries I do now. I couldn’t forge this empire. This legacy. The mighty are meant to rule. The weak remain used and abused for all they are worth. This is the way of nature. It is IN our nature.”

  “And you trample over everyone to do so,” said Kasar.

  Akonai gave Vorza an incredulous stare and gestured to Kasar as if to ask “can you believe this fool? Of course we do! Why would you not?” He laughed and slapped his knee.

  “Why do you laugh?” asked Kasar, feeling his mood darken. “As if what I said isn’t common sense. As if doing the right thing and building something out of a good heart isn’t worth fighting for.”

  Akonai scoffed and gestured around him. “Welcome to the real world, Grim! Here the laws of nature are incorruptible. The strong survive because they can. The weak perish because they have no choice. What else is there if not the mightiest ruling so they can make their existence more tolerable, pleasurable, and worth something. What judgement is there? The Arcs are gone. The gods all act in their self interest because what else is there? All your good acts, all your righteous deeds, are lost to time. No one remembers the man who threw the copper to the beggar. They remember the warlord who butchers millions because it was a mighty thing to do!”

  Kasar felt bile inside him. He wanted to retch. Instead he sighed. “If everyone gives the beggar a copper, maybe he can do something worthwhile in his life. Every copper counts.”

  “Yes, so why not just keep it?” asked Akonai with a giggle. “Look,” he said. “If you believe your way is right, why is the world the way it is? Why do I own you? Why do you fight? Because the alternative is death and we don’t want that. I really don’t.”

  “You do it because…” Kasar’s words rang empty and trailed off.

  “Thank you,” said Akonai as if Kasar admitted defeat. “Finally, we reach some conclusion.”

  The fire inside Kasar exploded into a fury. He glared at Akonai before venting out the bile, the rage, and the frustrations that had been building up inside him. “You do it anyways. You give the copper anyways. You hold your ground anyways. You die well knowing you were strong enough to do it ANYWAYS!” He gritted his teeth and leaned forward. The Bronze Guard pulled at his chains. He stepped even further, letting the metal bite into his flesh.

  “You do it to spite the mighty,” spat Kasar. “You do it despite the consequences. You do it because doing it gives you strength and makes bastards like you have a trickle of fear when you wake up, wondering whether it will be your last day to commit atrocities. Every copper counts, Akonai, and every gladiator counts. Every slave counts. You fear us so that is why you even bother negotiating. All this power and you STILL fear. You’re a fucking coward!”

  The silence after was like the silence before the storm. Akonai glares at Kasar, and for once he seemed wounded, but didn’t want to show it. However, a wounded rat fights the hardest.

  “Bring his friends,” he said.

  The Bronze Guard save for the ones holding Kasar and Vorza shuffled their way down.

  “Now,” said Akonai, leaning in close. “You will be punished.”

  Pain sprouted into Kasar’s body. His veins exploded. Maggots squirmed in his flesh and threatened to rip free of every pore in his skin. He screamed himself hoarse and sank to his knees, but his eyes never left Akonai’s. Instead of begging or ceasing his defiance, his enraged and tortured screamed rolled out into a withering hiss as he lost himself.

  Through the pain his mind entered a locked cell of his own making. A place of solace and acceptance of the pain. At the end of that prison was not a warden, but an enabler.

  A firebrand.

  It did not tell Kasar to recede inside and lock himself forever. Instead it asked how much he was willing to defy out of spite. How much joy was he willing to extract out of defiance? Finally, it asked, was Kasar willing to die for his spite, his pride, and his stubbornness.

  Kasar thought to himself in that singularity of pain: people die for far less.

  Kasar the Dancing Devil bellowed out in laughter at the pain. He spat at the bronze bastard and cackled himself into a stupor. Pain was no longer something that broke him, it empowered him, and fueled his spite, his personal war against people like Akonai.

  Kasar broke in a way that no one expects a man to break. Kasar broke of his own accord in a method of his choosing. A giggle rippled through him as he thought in his delirium of agony: If I break, I’m sharper for it, and there’s more of me. It sounded so ridiculous, but he latched onto that whimsy. He latched onto the ground he held. He dug deep and found hope.

  “I’ll always defy you,” Kasar forced out through bloody lips. He was bleeding from everywhere now. But it didn’t matter. Behind him, Vorza looked stunned. Even the Bronze Guard couldn’t properly keep Vorza held tight. His chains grew slack as they loosened their grip, contemplating whether or not to kill Kasar or leave.

  Akonai looked entranced with Kasar insanity. He stopped the spell and Kasar erupted into more laughter followed by wheezing and retching blood.

  “You’re a sick child,” said Akonai. “A sick, broken child.”

  “I’m a Devil,” rasped Kasar, hunched over. Pride surged inside him and fueled the raging fire.

  The Bronze Guard had shown up with Oshi, Sipha, Rhind, and several others. They all watched as Kasar hissed his defiance.

  “You’re just a scared god worth nothing but the fear you bring. It’s your empire that will dissolve, Akonai. It will be we who are remembered as god slayers. Shackle breakers. Free fighters.”

  Akonai’s eyes twitched from Kasar to his friends. “Where is Beregar?” asked Akonai.

  “Is that fear?” asked Kasar with a chuckle. “Is that a worry that the great warrior decided he had had enough. That he was also willing to die to defy you.”

  Akonai slapped Kasar across the face and pointed to his Guard. “Find him!”

  “Already did, sir,” said Beregar’s voice.

  The Bronze Guard captain slashed with his halberd and sent two Guardsmen off the edge of the high rise seating and into the pits. Their bodies crunched below. Akonai choked on his own curses. Sipha bolted forward and hacked her way through the rest of the Bronze Guard who tried to defend their god-king. Oshi threw ashes into Akonai’s face, forcing him backward, coughing and wheezing. The ashes ignited and he screamed, trying to heal through it as fast as he could. Beregar latched onto Akonai’s throat, and pulled him into the tip of his halberd.

  Rhind and several other warriors held the winding stairways that led up to the throne from a battalion of soldiers and Bronze Guard.

  Sipha freed Kasar and Vorza, and handed them their sabers. “It’s time,” she said with a grin. She shrieked into the air and raised her daggers. “It’s time!”

  Kasar felt numb and hollow from the torture. It caught up to him like a tidal wave as strong as Beregar. Akonai was dead. He was gone. They were free. He broke into a chuckle.

  “Watch out!” cried Vorza.

  Kasar sensed the magic a second later.

  Where Oshi stood, letting loose a barrage of fire onto an incoming host of soldiers, a bolt of brilliant, orange light erupted. She stood there no longer. Kasar gasped her name. Her body lay strewn in a scattered mess of gore bones. Kasar looked up to see Akonai… alive and on the ledge railing off of which Beregar had thrown him off.

  “I am a god,” he said, curling his fists. “This petty rebellion is over.”

  Everyone fell to their knees. Even the soldiers and the Guard. Pain redoubled and forced itself through Kasar’s very being, threatening to crush his heart and lungs. He felt his ribs groan from the pressure. He looked around to see the soldiers and Guard also incapacitated. He can’t control it per person. It’s an area of affect.

  Kasar looked up and realized he could see the magical weaves. Vorza and his parents mentioned how Devils could see magic as it was being casted. Development of all senses other than the eyes made them better at detecting foreign phenomena such as magic. He saw that his theory was true. The area of effect pooled down from his hands like a wide cone that enveloped them all.

  Kasar turned his head to Vorza who had his eyes closed and his teeth gritted. Could he tell?

  “Coward,” rasped Kasar. “Come here so I can strangle you.”

  Akonai chuckled and stepped off the ledge and closer to him, his cone shifting away and freeing Rhind and a few others who were further.

  “Is this better, Grim?” asked Akonai. “Do you feel righteous now? Do you feel like your good deeds matter in the end? You’ve just brought more pain and suff-” Rhind’s axe carved a chunk from Akonai’s back, dispelling his affect. Immediately, Kasar surged forward and swipe his saber through Akonai’s neck.

  That last bit of exertion sent Kasar sprawling to his knees. Many of his cohorts and even his enemies all retched, convulsed, or passed out. Kasar struggled to see straight. He struggled to even breathe.

  Vorza prayed to his homeland beside him. Tears fell from his eyes.

  “Vorza?” asked Kasar, reaching out to his mentor.

  Vorza turned to Kasar, but did not look on him with the same eyes. A blue cloud hung over them and Kasar gasped. This was not his mentor. This was not his friend. Gone the aged mirth, the dry humor, and warmth despite all the suffering. Replaced with it was a coldness and a purpose.

  A purpose to kill.

  “So, Vrodian,” chuckled Rhind, chopping into a recovering Bronze Guard. “We make a good team after all. Nice plan with stealing the armo-”

  Vorza ran his saber through Rhind.

  “No!” cried Xinobu, one of the gladiators that came alongside Rhind. He drew his curved Rhodini blade and dashed to Vorza. Kasar watched in horror as Vorza surgically dodged and parried the gladiator’s attacks before plunging his saber into his heart.

  “What is he doing?” asked Sipha, drawing her daggers. Several of the soldiers and Bronze Guard vanished.

  Kasar sensed a lingering effect. A spell. Some kind of final death wish triggered by Akonai’s demise. Vorza turned to Sipha, Beregar, and Kasar. His eyes scanned them and Kasar saw that his mentor knew how each of them would die.

  “Run,” he rasped.

  Sipha and Beregar grabbed Kasar and sprinted away. Vorza chased after. He cut through the rest of the gladiators that had come with them.

  The three surviving gladiators jumped off the edge of the throne rising into the back area behind the walls of the pits where the warriors prepared to fight. They landed with a grunt, but Kasar landed the hardest and skidded the furthest. Here dozens of soldiers lay dead, and their killers, the freed gladiators cheered at the sight of Kasar.

  Some helped him up, but he latched onto them and cried “run!”

  Vorza landed beside Beregar causing dust and dirt to scatter from him. Within a second Beregar’s right arm was gone at the elbow and a gash appeared under the collar bone. Sipha bolted away, but Vorza chased after. Several of the freed men and women stood in confusion and horror as Vorza caught up with Sipha, disarmed her, and slammed her into several other astonished warriors.

  “He’s controlled by a spell!” warned Kasar. “Just run! Rally to the second point.”

  “Kill him!” cried a gladiator.

  Some tried. All died.

  Vorza spun to spot Kasar, and prepared to fight. Kasar quickly downed the three potions in his pockets in quick succession. A dangerous risk. Overdosing could burn right through his body as they searched for the wounds to heal. Kasar felt confident the three vials would find plenty in a few seconds.

  Kasar barely held his own. Several of the gladiators tried to help Kasar in the fight, but they weren’t Devils. They couldn’t sense Vorza’s violent intent like Kasar could. When fighting a Devil like Vorza without the senses of a trained Devil, it was as good as facing him alone regardless of how many bodies you threw at him.

  Only sheer mass can stop him now.

  “Body pile him!” cried Kasar.

  In those three words alone, Vorza slashed through Kasar’s ribs. It didn’t strike any organs. But he felt rivers of blood start cascading out of him. The potions immediately began and he stumbled back from pain. The gladiators obeyed and rushed to tackle him. Vorza cut through seven before seven more managed to pin him to the ground.

  Even from such a fetal position, the old Devil gnawed on whatever his teeth could find. Earlobes, necks, cheeks, and noses. Through a fit of screams and curses, they finally had both arms pinned, and saber tossed to the side.

  Kasar felt the potion continue to heal even after the cut had mended. Now was the terrifying part. He’d fought too well. Defended too many of Vorza’s attacks. Two whole potions remained inside his systems looking for something to heal. If they didn’t find something, it would eat him up from the inside. His eyes fell on his steel. Panic surged in him as every part of his being told him this idea was suicidal. He gritted his teeth, fought through his own mind, grabbed his saber, and plunged it inside his own gut.

  The warriors watched in horror as Kasar’s veins turned black and he knelt there with a saber inside his gut. He told himself as soon as the healing slowed down, he’d rip the saber free and hoped he wasn’t too overzealous with the damage done to his body.

  However, blackness started to creep into his vision.

  He would fall unconscious before he could-