Karn's vision sharpened, clearing the haze that clouded his surroundings as a grim nightmare unfolded before him. Shackled to a cold, metallic platform that jutted out from the sandy floor. The air was heavy with the unmistakable scent of blood.
The sandy ground around him was stained crimson, a horrific tapestry that told a story of cruelty and violence. The splatters and trails of blood seemed to seep into the very essence of the place, heightening the sense of foreboding that hung in the air. But it was the thundering sound of feet stomping above that demanded his attention. Karn's eyes darted upward. Countless faces peered down at him, their expressions twisted into grotesque grins and menacing sneers. Thousands of eyes fixated on him, their collective gaze filled with a disturbing mix of curiosity and sadistic pleasure.
Desperation surged within Karn as he frantically searched for escape, his eyes scouring the boundary for a glimmer of hope. However, his search yielded nothing but the remnants of a gruesome battle. Before him lay the torn and mangled bodies of once-mighty beasts.
“Look and witness the beast! Look how he cowers there!" an unfamiliar voiced echoed around Karn. The voice’s echoing taunt followed by a chorus laugh from the surrounding crowd.
Karn's breath caught in his throat as his gaze fell upon his hands, or what they had become. Instead, he now beheld large, obsidian-black claws, their surfaces stained with a noxious white paint. A wave of horror washed over him as he absorbed the grotesque transformation. On instinct he recoiled, trying to wrench himself free from the confining grip of the iron chains that bound him.
Yet no matter how much his muscles straining against the unyielding restraints, the thick iron chains held steadfast.
Images of the alchemist's laboratory flashed before his eyes, the scene vivid and haunting. The pain he had endured, both physical and emotional, surged to the surface once more, as if fresh wounds had been freshly reopened. Each recollection was a searing reminder of the alchemist's nefarious experiments, the twisted manipulation of his body and essence.
His clenched fists trembled, the dark claws glinting in the dim light. The memory of the alchemist's touch, his cold instruments, and the searing pain they inflicted became a lasting mark upon Karn's psyche. A torment that now held him captive in more ways than one.
“Now join hands with me as we welcome our king!”
The crowd cheered as a figure strolled onto the killing floor. The King encased in gleaming steel armour, radiated wealth. Karn's eyes were drawn to the armour’s gems embedded into the chest plate and arm guards. Vivid shades of green and blue captured and reflected the light, exposing a supernatural, unsettling aura around the King.
The King strolled leisurely onto the field, flanked by two servants who hurriedly followed on either side, gripping tall flagpoles. These poles bore expansive white banners that billowed and danced in the wind, lending an illusion of theatrical wings to the King's presence, enhancing his dramatic appearance.
As he neared, Karn spotted one more gem suspended from a chain around his neck. Its surface gleamed ominously black. Its presence cast an air of malice, revealing the King’s true self amidst the splendour of his royal attire.
The servants swiftly vanished through side exits, carrying their flags with them, while the chains restraining Karn dropped away. His hulking form stumbled forward, his body feeling strange and unfamiliar to him.
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“The creature standing before you is nothing but an imposter, a blight upon this land seeking to devour your loved ones,” proclaimed a voice.
He roared in an attempt to refute the claims, but the sound only served to confirm the voice's accusations.
A smug smile curled beneath the King's face guard as he drew a gleaming, elongated blade from its scabbard, gripping it with both hands as he advanced towards Karn.
This was no fair fight; it was a spectacle, a predetermined execution and the crowd expected nothing less. Amidst the sea of sneering faces, Karn caught a fleeting glimpse of familiarity, but his attention quickly refocused on the executioner before him.
Desperate to escape, Karn scrambled away, but the King barked with laughter and relentlessly pursued him. Empowered by the gems on his armour, the King leaped an impossible distance, bringing his blade down in a swift, downward strike. Agonizing pain surged through Karn's shoulder as the blade tore through one of his crude wings, which collapsed to the ground.
Turning to face his assailant, Karn's sluggish movements proved futile as the King swiftly maneuvered underneath him. Another searing pain lanced through Karn's chest as the King's blade pierced his ribs.
“Ha! Pathetic beast,” taunted the King.
Gasping for breath, Karn crumpled to the ground, his strength fading. The King emerged from the encounter, his form splattered with a gruesome display of crimson, while the crowd erupted in applause and cheers.
Karn's consciousness flickered, his vision growing dim as his life force ebbed away, drained by the loss of blood. A wave of frustration washed over him.
Why had he endured the hardships of climbing that treacherous mountain, bearing the pain, only to be swiftly brought down by this imposter? Anger ignited within his now-numb, bulky body, though he knew that even if he could grasp the power bestowed by the spirit, it was too late.
With his gaze fixed upon the King, who held his sword poised just above Karn's eyes, ready to drive its gory tip into his skull, Karn took one last look.
Amidst the splatters of blood on the shimmering blade, a flicker of movement caught his attention. A familiar figure sprinted towards him, her hair billowing in a tangled brown mess.
“Karn!” shouted a familiar voice.
The King, confused by the jeers and disapproving shouts from the crowd, turned to observe the approaching girl who had jumped into the coliseum. She swiftly tore off the pack from her shoulder, unzipping it to reveal the blood-red covers of the Book of the Known.
The King's eyes widened with shock as a powerful unseen force surged from within the book, slamming into the King, sending him flying. Hope closed the distance between her and Karn, and with a look of uncertainty smashed the book against his forehead.
The impact sent her hurtling back with a thunderous boom, instantly silencing the crowd. Within Karn's chest, a fire began to ignite. As if a switch had been flipped, a surge of energy flooded his veins. The sensation burned with a searing intensity. The very same pain he’d felt when he first held the book open. It was as if the book and the spirits bound within it were testing him. He could hear voices emanating from within, calling out to him, urging him to conquer the pain.
With unwavering determination, Karn resisted the surging energy, refusing to let it control or consume him. He channelled it, guiding the torrent of burning lava-like power to flow through him. His scarred skin began to emit a radiant glow, much like the King BalDrakkus had.
Amidst the chaos, the crowd erupted in screams of panic, their cries blending with the blinding light that engulfed the scene. Hope shielded her eyes, unable to bear the brilliance.
In an instant, the overwhelming brightness receded, and the world reemerged before their eyes. Karn stood on the field, his human form restored. He marvelled at his hands, which appeared clean, pale, and untarnished, devoid of marks. Even the old scars from his childhood had vanished, leaving behind flawless skin. He gently traced the contours of his face, reassured that everything was as it should be.
“I’m whole,” he muttered under his breath as relief washed over him.
Hope's eyes welled up with tears as she beheld Karn, fully formed and alive. However, amidst the astonishment, the King unleashed a scream—a furious roar of frustration and anguish contorted his face.
Pointing an accusatory finger at the human Karn, he bellowed, "Heathen! Kill him!"
Guards swiftly materialised from all directions, converging on the blood-soaked field, blocking every escape route. Hope raced to Karn's side as he retrieved the book from the ground. A cold determination settled upon his face; his eyes focused on the encircling metal barrier around them.