CHAPTER 33: DON'T FIGHT ME, IGNITE ME (7)

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His strength was abandoning him, his vision a trembling flame at the mercy of the relentless wind.

And there was nothing he could do to resist the hands that were about to take everything from him.

If only he could level up with his mind as he had done before. He hadn't come this far to die now, he thought, not for the first or last time. But he couldn't. Something was wrong.

He supposed he wasn't conscious enough to achieve it.

He had to keep trying anyway.

He couldn't see what else he could do.

"Enough nonsense. Levels? Getting stronger by playing with numbers? The only way a person can get stronger is by crushing their enemies. And you did it splendidly. You devoured them without a second thought. The dark essence of every fallen enemy is the only reason you're stronger."

He pulled him down as if he wanted to drag him to the world on the other side of the reflection.

Splash.

"My essence. Now finish what you started and give me your body. What the hell is it good for? They're not here anymore. There's no one left in this world who loves you, who misses you. Poor thing. Hahaha."

He kept repeating it over and over. As if he hadn't understood, as if he couldn't perfectly remember that...

"In reality, I'm doing you a favor, I'll welcome you to the same hell you sent them to with your own hands."

That laugh.

That damn laugh.

It seemed like there was a chorus of voices every time he did it, it seemed like it couldn't be just one.

A monster with a legion's voice.

Since everything was strange, the out-of-place detail seemed almost normal.

He was sinking more and more as if he were really going to pass through the pool of his own blood and end up somewhere else. What was the Tower really, anyway? Everything had already changed, the only thing proving he was in the same place was the blood spilled before.

Caim had a strange idea. The only sense it made was that of the dream of madness, but he was willing to test it. Why not? What else could he do?

He closed his eyes.

The sensation of the hands on his neck disappeared instantly. He had desperately wished for it, but he couldn't believe it had worked.

Caim stood on trembling legs and staggered backward, hastily, struggling to keep his balance, still with his eyes closed.

His lungs filled with air again. His agitated heart calmed down, though only to a certain extent. After all, he was still in mortal danger. He had escaped its grip, but he hadn't made it disappear or anything like that. It couldn't be that simple.

And it wasn't.

He felt it out there, watching. Waiting for its chance.

Promising itself that next time it wouldn't fail.

"Why do you resist? Even if you could escape again, you can't hurt me, you can't kill me. So what's the point? I'm the last enemy in your way. You need the secrets of the Tower to keep living, otherwise, you wouldn't be here. If you can't defeat me, it's as if you're already dead. Dead!"

He insisted too much.

Now that he wasn't on the verge of running out of oxygen, Caim realized that easily. It almost sounded desperate, beneath the mockery and rage. There had to be a way to defeat it or else all this wouldn't make sense.

He wasn't referring to his mission, but to the Tower itself.

Clearly, it wasn't chaotic. It existed with a design for a single purpose.

It hadn't brought him here to face an impossible-to-defeat enemy.

If he failed, that was another thing. But if he never had the chance to win, then they shouldn't have let him try in the first place.

He wouldn't fail in any way. He was forbidden to fail.

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"Talk less and try to kill me if you think it's so easy."

He forced himself to laugh.

Even that hurt because of his throat, but it was worth it for the monster's reaction. He didn't need to open his eyes to realize it, as it let out a growl of rage and frustration.

Similarly, he felt it approach with murderous intent.

It was time to test if he could touch it as long as he kept his eyes closed. As he had said, Caim still hadn't found a way to hurt it. So even if it was so, he would have only managed to reach a stalemate. But it was still better than the alternative.

His soul had been that close to leaving his body.

If he still had something like a soul, in any case.

The monster's hands went for his neck again...

And passed through him without causing harm, as if he were a ghost.

The enemy at the top of the Tower is myself, he thought. It always had to be that way.

Not word for word, but that thing had basically said the same. Caim believed he understood. Now he could see a path to victory. Only time would tell if it was a false or safe one. In any case, he wouldn't hesitate to walk it. The worst thing he could do was not try.

"You have no power over me."

The monster tried to attack him again and failed. He felt it.

"Okay, very well. You got me. Let the second round begin."

As if something had really changed, that thing let out a confident laugh again. Caim tensed up. He didn't think it was a bluff. He had never thought it would be that easy, anyway.

As easy as just trying to find a way to hurt the bastard while he couldn't do anything to him.

The second round.

The final round?

He felt tempted to open his eyes, but he kept them tightly closed.

He heard...

Heavy breathing. Splashes. Water? No, surely from the pool of blood he had left behind.

Then the pieces fell into place. He opened his eyes without fear. Now that he had discovered the trick, it couldn't harm him from the other side. So, naturally, it was coming out to meet him. Manifesting from the depths of the pool of blood. Slowly. A twisted birth. It was exactly like him. No, maybe its horns were bigger, but if so, it was a difference too subtle to mean anything. Probably his imagination. The horns were a symbol of evil and there was no greater evil than the being that intended to take everything from him, even his being.

They were a symbol of evil even to him, now.

Oh, and of course, there was the difference that his clone was drenched in blood from head to toe, due to the entrance it had chosen.

But that didn't matter either.

The clone assumed a combat stance, with the tentacles, also drenched in blood, closed against its body like the layers of a lotus flower.

"Even if you kill me, you'll die in this Tower. There's no hope or normal life waiting for you."

Caim assumed an identical stance.

"I know."

I guess it's a matter of fate. But if I have to go to hell, I won't go alone. Do you hear me?

The clone laughed softly.

"Come at me. You try."

They both shot forward at the same time, as if they had rehearsed it. The start of the race was like a simultaneous explosion, cracking the ground behind them.

They collided in the middle, the shockwave making the entire crystal vibrate, for a moment he thought the world would explode around him.

They clashed with tentacles, with fists, and with swords, all exactly identical. Most of his life, like anyone, he had only worried about defeating enemies that were stronger than him, enemies that seemed insurmountable.

Defeating an enemy that was exactly as strong as him, with the same skills and powers, was a different kind of challenge.

Not to mention whatever that slippery bastard was hiding up his sleeve, of course. He didn't think it was just a copy of him.

"You killed them! Don't try to lie to me, I've been inside your mind."

To begin with, there was this poor psychological attack. Until now he couldn't have assured that it wasn't still inside his head, by the way it had responded in his thoughts, or seemed to.

"You knew this was going to happen, or almost. You knew your body was changing," he laughed. "That it was even affecting your emotions. The euphoria of battle, the carelessness, dark desires. Yes, you knew, but you couldn't back down. You had everything you wanted and you threw it away to essentially dig through a mass grave. They're dead because you're the one who believes those horns on your head mean something, not the outside world that harasses you so much. You're here to prove something to yourself. You're here because you're selfish."

The darkness he spoke of was one he couldn't deny. He had found words for what he couldn't say to himself, maybe in the depths of his mind and soul.

It was despicable, but what could he do? Surrender and die?

Then he would be even more despicable. So much sacrificed to leave empty-handed.

He was simply born to fight.

He had even been baptized with the name Caim. Without any ceremony in a church, of course.

One of his tentacles slipped through the enemy's barrier of tentacles, piercing the clone cleanly. The hole in its chest was so big he could see through it. In theory, it should be a mortal wound, but he didn't agree. There wasn't a drop of blood more. Nor could his organs be seen.

The simplest answer was that it had no organs. Therefore, no blood to shed either.

"Get that stupid look of surprise off your face. You didn't think you had gotten rid of me, did you? You're full of holes yourself, it'll take much more to finish me off."

They continued exchanging blows, stronger and faster each time, with the tentacle still deeply embedded in the enemy.

"Do you know what I'll do when I finally defeat you? I'll take your body and use it to commit all kinds of atrocities, to show the world they were always right about you. About yours. And after that, they won't just throw stones at you, they won't just use you as slaves, they won't just kick you out of anywhere. They'll hang you like fucking pigs, they'll want your heads on pikes and on the walls of every damn city from here to the sea. It'll be the end for each and every one of you, damn worms."

He redoubled his efforts.

He wasn't fighting just for himself. At least not now.

Don't Fight Me, Ignite Me (7): FIN