“Come on, get in, don’t be afraid,” said Zarakel, his voice echoing with a false kindness as he raised his arm in a welcoming gesture.

Thamuz stood still for a moment, fear and surprise wrestling within him. But seeing the man who had unleashed all this chaos, a small smile crept onto his face.

“I see why they brought me here,” Thamuz said, beginning to walk measured steps towards Zarakel.

The throne on which the eternal king sat was a macabre work of art: built from the skeleton of what seemed to be a giant humanoid, its horns rose threateningly above Zarakel’s head. At his feet, two small, deformed creatures licked his ulcer-covered feet in a repugnant gesture of submission.

Thamuz approached cautiously, his eyes scanning every corner of the vast room for traps or hidden threats. But the place was shrouded in a deathly silence, as if time itself had stopped in this space.

“So, what do you want from me?” Thamuz asked, standing defiantly in front of Zarakel.

Zarakel leaned back in his throne, his body moving like a mass of flesh barely contained by its skin. His eyes, pits of infinite darkness, examined every detail of Thamuz: his firm stance, the tension in his muscles, the determination etched into every line of his face.

“Relax, I’m not going to harm you,” Zarakel replied, intertwining his fingers with unsettling calm. “I just brought you here to ask you a very special question.”

“Are you serious?” Thamuz protested, anger tinging his voice. “You went through all this trouble just to ask me something?”

“Obviously, I’m the king of this entire realm,” Zarakel declared with a tone of cruel amusement. “I could even bring your whole family here if I wanted to.”

At the mention of his family, Thamuz’s expression darkened dangerously. He raised his head, his fists clenching so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Don’t talk about my family!” Thamuz exclaimed, each word laden with barely contained threat. “If you dare to harm them, I swear on my life that I will choke you to death.”

Surprise shone in Zarakel’s eyes at Thamuz’s ferocity. It was precisely that untamed flame he had been seeking, the one that had led him to orchestrate this entire encounter.

“Fine, just calm down,” Zarakel said, shifting slightly in his throne. “Now, I’m going to ask you the question that I went through all this trouble to bring you here for.”

But just as Zarakel was about to speak, a chilling sound filled the room. It was a wet, repugnant crackling, like bones breaking and flesh tearing. Both Thamuz and Zarakel turned their heads towards the source of the noise.

In a dark corner of the room, barely visible in the shadows, stood a colossal figure. It was hunched over something it was manipulating with jerky, violent movements.

“What is that?” Thamuz asked, a mix of revulsion and curiosity in his voice.

“Oh, that’s Gigantino,” Zarakel replied with disturbing casualness, settling back into his throne. “I didn’t know he was here, playing with his ‘toy.’”

The term “toy” resonated in the room with a sinister connotation, leaving Thamuz with a nauseous feeling and a terrible premonition. The atmosphere, already oppressive, seemed to grow even denser, laden with an almost palpable evil.

“What’s your weakness?” Zarakel asked, suspicion in his voice.

Thamuz slowly turned his head, staring intently into Zarakel’s eyes.

“My weakness? I have no weakness,” Thamuz asserted, confidence in his voice.

“Of course you have one. Every living being in the universe has a weakness, whether small or large. It always will. But now I want to know yours. I want to know what is capable of killing you, what can make you fear,” Zarakel said, forming a sinister smile on his face.

Thamuz felt the environment suddenly freeze. The creatures that had been licking Zarakel’s feet stopped and slithered towards Thamuz’s sides, disappearing into the darkened room.

“Why should I tell you? Do you plan to use it in my future shamonak battles? If so, I just want to tell you something,” Thamuz said, raising his fist. “I’ll make your son beg for mercy.”

Zarakel’s eyes widened at Thamuz’s words. His smile was still present but had lightened slightly, showing how his eyes were also beginning to darken.

“Fine, if you want to act like this, then I’ll have to give you some incentive to find out what your weakness is,” Zarakel said, snapping his fingers. “Gigantino, dear son, show Thamuz your toy.”

Gigantino heard his father’s command and turned his body. In his hands, he held the battered body of Shandam. His head had been completely torn off, and his legs had met the same fate. His chest was exposed, ribs visible, showing his organs.

“I think I broke him, Father,” Gigantino said, saliva dripping from his mouth.

Thamuz felt his world collapse upon seeing his friend’s mangled body. Rage and pain intertwined inside him like the most toxic of poisons, clouding his judgment. His eyes, now bloodshot, locked onto Zarakel with an intensity that could have melted the entire room. Without a second thought, he lunged at him.

“I’ll tear your heart out with my own hands!” Thamuz roared, focusing all his strength into the palm of his hand.

The air crackled with energy as Thamuz rushed towards his target. Zarakel, apparently defenseless in his throne, didn’t move a muscle. But just as the blow was about to connect, an immense force struck Thamuz’s chest. The sound of the impact resonated like thunder in the room, and the warrior’s body was thrown backward, crashing into the wall with a chilling crack.

Zarakel exhaled, a bead of cold sweat running down his temple. “By the gods, son, you almost let me get touched,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of fear.

“Did I meet your expectations, Father?” Gigantino asked, his hand still emanating a bluish vapor from the impact.

“You exceeded all my expectations,” Zarakel replied, slowly rising from his throne, his eyes never leaving the battered figure of Thamuz.

The fallen warrior struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling erratically. He tried to get up, supporting himself on his trembling arms, but Gigantino showed no mercy. With a speed that defied his size, the giant lunged at Thamuz, his foot connecting with the warrior’s face in an impact that shook the palace’s foundations.

“Oh, what a delight! This toy is much more resilient,” Gigantino exclaimed, his laughter echoing off the stone walls as he bounced with excitement.

Against all odds, Thamuz peeled himself off the wall, fragments of rock falling around him. He positioned himself in a defensive stance, his arms extended in front of him, trembling but determined.

“Damn opportunist,” Thamuz spat, blood mixing with his words. “I thought we would settle this honorably in the shamonak arena.”

Gigantino responded only with a sadistic grin, raising his hands in a mockery of Thamuz’s stance. The air grew tense as both combatants sized each other up.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

In an instant, Gigantino launched into the attack. Thamuz, anticipating the move, prepared his palm strike. The two impacts collided in the air, creating a shockwave that made the windows tremble and extinguished the torches in the room.

But the result was devastating for Thamuz. A nauseating crack preceded the warrior’s agonized scream as he saw his own bone jutting out from the torn flesh of his arm.

"Well, well," commented Zarakel from the shadows of his throne. "It seems that your legendary endurance was nothing more than a tavern tale."

Gigantino's laughter echoed like an infernal echo as his head slammed into Thamuz's face. The warrior fell to the ground, his consciousness hanging by a thread.

With superhuman effort, Thamuz tried to rise once more. But Gigantino, relentless, began to rain blows on the fallen man's ribs. Each impact resounded with a chilling crack, mingling with Thamuz's muffled gasps.

"Come on, get up, I want to play more with you," said Gigantino, stopping his assault.

Thamuz lay on the ground, his blood forming a dark pool on the cold stones as Gigantino's sadistic laughter filled the room.

"Lift him up, my son," ordered Zarakel, rising from his throne.

Gigantino lifted Thamuz by one arm, and Zarakel walked towards them, positioning himself in front of Thamuz. He looked at Thamuz's battered and severely damaged body and burst into a great laugh. A black tentacle emerged from his back, passing under Thamuz's chin and forcing him to look up to meet Zarakel's gaze. He opened his mouth and began to speak:

"The son of Tawnylon, face to face with me. I could kill you right now or torture you in the most horrible ways imaginable, but the people want to see fights. They want to see you defeat rivals, have a grand battle, and I cannot deny them that right. The shamonak is one of the things I respect most in this life, but I need to be cautious. I need to know if you have that weakness that only a few fighters possess."

Zarakel touched Gigantino's back with a tentacle, and he slammed Thamuz to the ground. He positioned himself on top of Thamuz and put his hands around his neck, while Thamuz kicked and grabbed Gigantino's arms, trying to escape the hold. Thamuz felt Gigantino's weight pressing on his ribs, slowly breaking them. His neck began to open from the pressure, and his eyes betrayed his weakness.

Zarakel watched Thamuz's eyes and crouched down, seeing the uncontainable fear reflected in them.

"Finally, finally I see what your great weakness is. Your weakness is your fear of death, being close to it. You fear its cold embrace, something that only weak people fear. A shamonak fighter delights in being so close to it; the burning flame within him overshadows the coldness with which death always operates. But you are a disgrace to that. Your eyes betray you: if you fear death, you will always fear the fight."

Zarakel touched Gigantino's back with a tentacle, and he stopped choking Thamuz, who seemed to have lost consciousness due to the lack of oxygen.

Shandam, who had managed to restore much of his head thanks to his regenerative abilities, watched the entire confrontation with a mix of horror and desperation. He felt hopeless seeing his friend so easily defeated by his tormentor. He closed his eyes, accepting the fate that awaited him, as his heart beat with a somber rhythm.

"Go to your quarters, my son, you've done enough today," ordered Zarakel, placing his hands behind his back, his voice resonating with authority.

"But, father, I was just starting to have fun with him," protested Gigantino, stomping on the ground, causing the room to shake.

"Don't protest, son, unless you want me to punish you like the other times," said Zarakel, extending four gigantic tentacles from his back, which twisted threateningly in the air.

Gigantino saw this and began to cry. He ran off, grabbing Shandam by the leg and dragging him as he ran towards his quarters.

"You never let me do anything," Gigantino complained before leaving the room, his voice full of childish frustration.

Now Zarakel was alone with Thamuz's unconscious body. He placed a tentacle on Thamuz's chest to check his pulse and looked with curiosity to see that he still had one. He lifted Thamuz by the leg and dragged him along, his imposing figure casting a long shadow on the ground.

"Let's take you to your sweet family," he said, starting to walk towards another room, a sinister smile appearing on his face.

The afternoon had arrived, and the sun was slowly setting, bathing everything in an orange hue. Thamuz's family sat outside at the patio table, sharing a meal in an attempt to maintain normalcy. Armesto and Yakrare were with them, while Narek and Berkam were also seated at the table, their faces marked by worry.

"Have they found anything in the prison yet?" asked Tawnylon with a serious tone, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"Nothing. Apparently, they didn't leave him there; they must have taken him somewhere else," replied Armesto, clasping his hands and frowning.

"Where do you think they might have taken him?" asked Aolani, concern in her voice, her fingers nervously drumming on the table.

"I don't know, it's been a while since he disappeared. Maybe he's in the city, maybe not," replied Armesto, now with a tone of worry similar to Tawnylon's, looking around as if expecting Thamuz to suddenly appear.

"I shouldn't have left him alone. I could have spoken to the guards and explained that we were defending ourselves against those criminals," said Narek, feeling guilt inside him, his voice laden with remorse.

"You couldn't have done anything. If you had stayed there, you would have been hurt. Besides, Thamuz will know how to escape from any place they lock him up," said Tawnylon, trying to ease the tension in the atmosphere, but with a shadow of doubt in his eyes.

Suddenly, the sound of a carriage could be heard from outside. Everyone looked up upon hearing it, and Armesto was even more surprised when he saw it.

"That's one of the carriages Zarakel uses for special deliveries. I wonder what it's doing here," explained Armesto, scratching his head and eyeing the approaching vehicle with suspicion.

The carriage arrived, built from a sturdy metal with runes engraved at the corners glowing with an intense red, and the beast pulling it was much larger than usual, with protrusions coming out of its back. A man stepped out of the carriage; his figure was pale and gaunt, with cut and filed horns.

"Hello, Armesto," said the man with a raspy voice.

"Oh, hello, Danmak. Did you bring something for us?" asked Armesto, curiosity reflected in his eyes.

"Yes, Zarakel told me to send this. I don't know what it is, but I saw six soldiers straining to lift it, so I think it's heavy," explained Danmak, walking towards the back of the carriage.

Danmak opened the back door of the carriage and revealed a huge wooden box. He climbed onto the carriage and positioned himself behind the box, trying to push it out.

"Tawnylon, please help Danmak," ordered Armesto, turning slightly to look at Tawnylon.

Tawnylon stood up from the table and walked towards the carriage with firm steps. He grabbed the wooden box with surprising ease, lifting it and placing it on the ground as if it weighed nothing.

Danmak descended from the carriage, wiping his hands on his pants, and surveyed the area with a mix of curiosity and concern. He noticed the tension in the air, which heightened his curiosity.

"What's going on, Armesto? I see that everyone is a bit sad," asked Danmak, his voice full of interest.

"The son of a friend has been taken to jail for defending himself against some thugs. I've talked to several of my contacts to release him, but they say he's not there. Now we don't know where he is, and that worries us a lot," explained Armesto, with visible concern in his eyes.

"What does his son look like?" asked Danmak, tilting his head.

"He’s tall, with large horns, his skin is as black as night, and he has a quite muscular build. His eyes are red with some black around them," described Armesto, his gaze fixed on Danmak. "Have you seen him around?"

"I think so. I saw someone who looked very much like that enter Zarakel's quarters, but I didn’t see him come back out," replied Danmak, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful expression.

"Zarakel's quarters? This can't be good," said Tawnylon, with growing concern in his voice.

"Yes, but I have to go deliver other things. I sincerely wish you the best of luck finding your son," said Danmak, trying to offer words of encouragement to Tawnylon.

Tawnylon thanked him, and Danmak climbed into his carriage. He cracked the whip over his beast, which let out a powerful roar before starting to move. Danmak waved goodbye as the carriage rolled away.

"It can’t be, he’s with that bastard," said Aolani, covering her face with her hands in a gesture of despair.

"Calm down, I don’t think Zarakel would harm Thamuz. Besides, he’s the main challenger in the tournament; hurting him would only tarnish his image," said Armesto, trying to calm the mood with reassuring words.

The wooden box remained inert, its size and weight impressive. Discussions about Thamuz's whereabouts continued, but a peculiar sound drew everyone’s attention to the box.

"Did you hear that?" asked Tawnylon, frowning.

"Yes, I heard it," replied Armesto, looking increasingly concerned.

Armesto walked slowly towards the box and leaned in to listen more closely. He positioned himself in front of the lock, which was slightly open, and pressed his ear against it.

"It sounds like breathing," he said, his voice tense.

Carefully, he placed his hands on the box and opened it slowly. When he saw what was inside, he opened the box suddenly, covering his mouth with his hand in shock. He looked at Tawnylon with wide eyes.

"What is it?" asked Tawnylon, fear evident in his voice.

Armesto was speechless, unable to describe what was inside the box. Tawnylon, concerned by his friend's reaction, approached to see for himself. Armesto tried to stop him.

"Don’t look, please," protested Armesto, trying to block Tawnylon’s path.

"I have to see what’s inside," said Tawnylon, with a determination that couldn’t be ignored.

Tawnylon pushed Armesto aside and approached the box. As he saw what was inside, his eyes filled with disbelief and horror. He knelt down, tears starting to stream down his cheeks.

"Son…" Tawnylon whispered, his voice breaking.