The armored beast stepped back twice, its three eyes watching Sohan warily. For the first time, the creatures sensed something different in one of the prisoners.
The others looked on in shock, their fear mingled with hope. One whispered, "He hit it… He actually hit it!"
But Sohan wasn't thinking of victory. Inside him burned a fire, growing hotter with each breath. The sword in his hand felt warm, as if it had responded to him.
The beast roared again, launching a volley of sharp bone shards from its back like arrows toward Sohan.
He leapt to the side, but one shard grazed his shoulder. Blood trickled out, yet he didn't stop. The pain awakened something deeper.
He ran again, shifting position rapidly, moving like someone who had trained his whole life for this. He jumped, slid, circled the beast—and then suddenly, slashed from the side.
A shriek tore from the creature as a chunk of its bony armor cracked and fell.
At that moment, the other prisoners erupted in cheers. One of them, who had been trembling moments ago, shouted, "Fight! We can fight!"
And he charged at one of the smaller monsters with his blade.
The spark spread.
A small flicker of hope ignited.
The real battle had begun.
The monsters responded, enraged. Some prisoners fell quickly, but others fought fiercely, as if Sohan had awakened something within them that was never there before.
As for him, he still faced the armored beast, panting, hurting—but unyielding.
Then… a strange moment.
The sword in his hand glowed faintly red.
And a voice—not his own, but familiar—spoke within:
"First spark... accepted."
A new warmth pulsed from the blade… as if it had awakened.
The armored beast stepped back, its massive feet trembling the ground, dust swirling at its heels. The three eyes embedded in its forehead narrowed and widened, as if evaluating a threat it had never encountered before. In the midst of this tense silence stood Sohan, breathing heavily, blood dripping from his shoulder—but unmoving.
His breaths were heavy, his body screaming with pain—but his eyes… no, they were not the same. They held a new glow, a spark, a flicker of unyielding will never seen in this dark pit.
Around the arena, the prisoners pulled back toward the walls. One muttered:
"He's… unreal. He's facing that thing alone…"
The beast roared again, its back opening once more, unleashing another wave of deadly bone shards like spears. Sohan barely raised his makeshift shield, catching the first barrage. Some shards ricocheted off, others dug deep into his flesh.
But he didn't fall.
In fact, he moved.
He ran—despite the wounds, despite the pain, despite the primal fear that had gripped him the moment he stepped into this "hole."
He dashed, bent low, leapt, shifting directions like a dancer balancing on a wire between life and death.
Then he sprang high, driving his blade toward the beast's exposed neck. The sword struck the bony plating—this time, the spark was stronger.
A guttural roar erupted from the beast as it staggered back two full paces. Thick black blood began to ooze from the wound.
One prisoner whispered:
"He… he wounded it! The beast is bleeding!"
Eyes turned toward Sohan, and something shifted in them. For the first time, they didn't see themselves as victims… but as potential warriors.
Sohan could barely catch his breath, but something inside him was growing stronger. He felt it. Not just physical strength—but something deeper… older. Something like the core he had always been denied.
Then, amidst the chaos, a faint pulse of red light flickered from his sword.
A heartbeat.
Once.
Then gone.
But he saw it.
And he heard it.
"First spark… accepted."
He didn't understand the words—but they gave him certainty.
The sword had felt heavy from the start, as if it resisted being wielded. But now… it was beginning to recognize him.
The armored beast gave him no time. It lunged, claws like serrated blades. He dodged the first strike, stepped back from the second—but the third slashed across his chest and flung him to the ground.
He rolled onto his back, eyes staring up at the gray sky. The sound of blood in his ears was louder than the beast's roar.
"Is this the end?"
But a voice inside answered:
"You are not incomplete ash… You are the one who will ignite the embers."
He rose. Slowly—but steadily.
And when the beast attacked again, this time, he didn't dodge. He didn't leap.
He faced it.
In a rare, silent moment, he raised his sword before his face and locked eyes with the beast's three.
Then he struck.
A straight blow—no tricks, no flourish.
Pure.
And it was enough.
The blade pierced the neck, struck bone—but did not stop. Heat exploded from the sword, as if it had its own heartbeat, and carved its way through until the blade emerged on the other side.
The armored beast froze.
Its chest heaved.
Then… it fell, its body crashing to the ground like thunder.
Stillness.
A long moment of silence.
Then the arena exploded with shouts—some of joy, some of weeping, some in stunned disbelief.
But all knew one thing:
That unknown prisoner… had slain the beast.
It was the beginning of the end of the "Trial."
The prisoners, despite their wounds, began to fight. The smaller monsters recoiled before the newfound fire in their eyes. Some fell, yes—but others pressed on, fueled by what Sohan had done.
As for him, he sank to his knees, gasping, blood covering his hands and face. The sword remained in his grip, pulsing faintly—as if it was smiling at him.