—Let the round begin!
A great voice proclaimed it. I recognized it instantly—that was undoubtedly Irax's voice. The sky above me was dyed crimson, like a vast sunset that concealed the tiers of spectators, almost as if it didn't want me distracted by anything. The ashen ground began to bloom instantly, small blades of grass like those of a savanna sprouting beneath my feet.
And finally, alongside a great gong from the dome's sky, three figures of Lepus were drawn, peeling away like stickers soaked in alcohol, falling dryly onto the ground.
What I saw before me was the living image of a rabid hare—but not only that. Its limbs were grotesquely elongated, with claws and nearly humanoid feet. It was as if someone had placed the head of an alopecic, foul-tempered rabbit onto a troll or goblin body.
The smell of venomous animal spread everywhere, and as the ultimate sign that this was a compressed version of the Conector, my body shuddered at the cold touch of Fjölkaldra on my back. A quick confirmation came as a small pinch on my leg.
It hurt.
Maybe I couldn't die—but whatever these things did to me, I would definitely feel it.
The hares stood still for a few moments, almost as if recognizing their terrain. I already have something that does that for me, thanks. I quickly expanded [Search V]; calculations rushed through my mind, never as clear as today. In fact, instead of being a swarm of chaotic information, the plans were concise and direct.
"Of course. Before, it was chaotic trying to decipher how my body would react, and now it has complete faith that I can keep up."
It was as if "The One" who watches me was aware that I was different now… or so I wanted to believe.
I quickly drew Fjölkaldra from its sheath, but… it didn't come out. It had frozen inside its quiver.
—You've got to be kidding me.
A yellow gleam across the crystalline surface of the axe made me understand. It was as if it were saying: "Prove it to me."
—Damn it…
I slung the axe back over my shoulder and turned my gaze to the rabbits…
They were gone.
I quickly scanned the arena, but they simply weren't there. They had vanished. The system informed me they were here; I was certain—they were circling me—but I couldn't see them. Instinctively I covered myself when I saw one leap at me…
But nothing happened. It simply passed through me according to Search.
Slowly, I took the knife from my thigh and crouched low against the smooth surface of the floor, bracing for the worst…
It rumbled.
And loudly.
One by one, the rabbits lunged, leaving large craters in the ground that sealed instantly without a trace. That's why I couldn't understand what had happened.
The first lunged at me with its long, twisted arms, but dodging it was… easy.
Significantly easy.
A long step backward was followed by a blind spot directly to its nape. I didn't hesitate and—
A few centimeters away, my knife stopped.
The rabbit froze, skeletal and arthritic, waiting for the blow. And when it didn't come, it unleashed another strike that knocked me down without resistance, yes…
My body felt numb, but as soon as I touched the ground, I regained mobility.
—What happened to me?
The rabbits had hidden again.
At least this time I'll be ready…
I think…
...................................................…
—What the hell are you doing, Tris?! —Rachel shouted, jumping to her feet, startling Jean.
—Well, looks like you know that mannequin.
—Ah, yes. Let's just say he's my friend. He's a bit short on options and had to get into this.
—Ummm —the girl muttered, staring at Tristan in the distance—, that's pathetic.
—Hey… it's not…
—Come on, you saw it. He had it perfectly lined up. He literally just had to finish the strike. Is he afraid of a ridiculous creature?
—I don't think that's it… —Rachel fell silent for a moment before sitting down again—. He'll do it. I know he will.
............…..............…..............…...........…
—That's your champion? —Gil said mockingly to Herc and Sal, who watched the turn of events seriously.
—Fear —Moc said gravely, holding a cup of hot chocolate—, fear not of dying.
—That's worse —Chu replied—. If you fear killing, you'll never survive in war.
—Come on, boy. Don't disappoint me —Herc said without taking his eyes off the arena.
—… —Sal couldn't decipher it. He could only analyze the fear in Tris's eyes in that final movement—. This is your trial, Tristan.
...........................…......................…
—I expected something like this —Bonaparte commented with his arms crossed—. The boy has barely tasted blood, and not even by choice.
—That's right —Roberts replied, standing beside the former emperor—. But if what I saw is truly inside that boy, he'll get through this.
—He will —Díaz said with absolute certainty—. He's tough.
—I hope so —Bonaparte replied—. He's lived too much in too little time, and he comes from an era of peace.
—Is it that obvious? —Roberts asked.
—Look at his hands. Not a single callus. He's never carried a shovel in his life. I may not know what era he's from, but at the very least Tristan has never taken a life —Bonaparte said, leaning back in his seat.
Díaz, meanwhile, began biting her nails. Her hope in the boy did not waver. She believed he would be the missing piece on her board.
..................................................…
The rabbits lunged from behind me. Search didn't hesitate to tell me what to do—but the issue wasn't what, it was how I would do it. The first attack was easy to dodge; the rabbit rolled several meters away. The second tried to stab me with its disgusting claws; its three slashes were blocked and deflected with the silver knife. Search implored me to use the blade, but my body refused. Why? Why? Why?
The solution: with a kick I sent the rabbit flying. My strength was far greater than expected. A front kick; I lifted my knee and delivered a direct push to the rabbit's chest.
I could feel its small bones crack and splinter. Black blood shot from its mouth, and the rabbit fell several meters away like an old rag.
The air left my lungs. My lips dried and my body trembled.
More and more, the cold from my back intensified. That frigid wind was like a breath exhaling over me.
My stomach churned and… well… you know.
—What are you doing? —A cold, slow voice came from my back—. Didn't you say you'd convince me?
—I don't know what's wrong with me… I truly don't.
—You're afraid of dying.
—I don't know…
—Afraid of killing.
—…
The third rabbit emerged from the ground. The impact of its claw against my suit sparked. Only now did I realize the suit was reinforced, but even so I lost my balance, and the rabbit didn't waste the opportunity to leap at me. I barely dodged the first strike, but for the next ones I could only raise my arms and endure.
—You told me I had to look for a third solution. But what is that?
The voice kept coming from my back.
—How am I supposed to know?
In a sudden motion, with the sleeve of my suit I deflected the rabbit's slashes and drove the silver knife into its neck.
The animal still struggled for a few moments, managing to scratch my face before collapsing.
Only one remained.
But my legs wouldn't respond.
The warm black-reddish liquid had spilled all over my suit, staining my white shirt and collar. The smell, the heat, the viscosity.
It all disgusted me.
—You killed it.
—What…?
For a moment the arena vanished, and before me stood the great dragon Frostmagmar, his ice scales like diamond, as magnificent as ever, imposing—but with a tired, bored expression.
—Stop crying over the past. Your first death stayed there.
With a motion of his wing, a pillar of ice extended, sculpting a perfect statue of Paul.
My body shuddered instantly.
—This is a waste of time —the dragon said—. Why do you fear killing? I can feel it. Your fear isn't of dying; you'd escape if that were the case. Instead, you fear striking. Finishing the job. You fear your strength.
—No… you wouldn't.
—You're afraid of ceasing to be a nobody.