That feeling. That wrongness. It was THIS. This whole time!

Understanding crashed over him, and with it came pure, incandescent rage.

"I don't want any of this!" he screamed with everything he had. "I don't want whatever this 'Mark of Fate' is that's influencing my life!"

I'm not some toy in someone's grand game! I'm not a puppet!

He shouted again at the top of his lungs, ignoring everything happening around him. The crowd, the woman, the arena—all of it blurred into meaningless background noise.

"I DON'T WANT ANY OF THIS!!! TAKE IT BACK!!!"

He desperately didn't want his life influenced and manipulated by some unknown cosmic power that was systematically making his new life hell.

I just want to live peacefully on my own terms! With Seraphine! Building my harem! Living freely! Is that too much to ask?!

However, everything remained silent—no answer came from whatever entity or force he was trying to reach.

While Leon could subconsciously block out and ignore the physical world around him in his mental state, that didn't mean it wouldn't affect him.

The woman's massive flaming sword came crashing down—not the edge, but the flat side—slamming brutally into his ribs.

CRASH! SIZZLE!

"AHHH!"

The searing heat and blunt force sent him rolling across the arena floor with a painful grunt, shocking him violently back to his senses and the real world.

The metal's scorching touch seared through bone and nerve, leaving the scent of burning skin in its wake.

Back to the desperate situation he was actually in. Back to the deafening cheers filling the arena. Back to Crimson, who was now on ground level just outside the combat circle, visibly holding herself back from interfering with the match. Her teeth were gritted, and she was shouting something desperately to him in her language—words he couldn't hear clearly and wouldn't understand anyway.

"VEL KRESH! TOR MANDOR! VEL!"

Leon felt the burning, agonizing pain radiating from his side where the superheated sword had struck.

Pain. Always more pain.

He was thoroughly accustomed to pain by now—how could he not be after being tortured so many times? However, that familiarity didn't mean he liked it or accepted it.

I hate this. I hate all of it.

The Mark of Fate is manipulating his life. The woman is hurting him right now. The monstrous man who would kill him after he accepted defeat.

I hate every single one of them.

What had he done to deserve any of this torment?

His eyes turned bloodshot red. His teeth ground together audibly as he looked up at the woman standing over him, her fiery sword raised above his broken body once more.

I'm so angry. So incredibly angry.

She said something loudly in her harsh language, probably demanding his surrender.

"VEL KRESH MANDOR TOR!"

Leon had absolutely had enough. One-fourth of his mana had slowly recovered through his passive regeneration.

Enough. I'm done with this.

Without replying or acknowledging her at all, Leon attempted to teleport away—

But she disrupted the technique instantly with that red energy field surrounding her, locking down his spatial manipulation.

FIZZLE! BZZZZT!

No! Damn it!

Her eyes seemed to make a final decision then. Her expression hardened with determination.

He won't surrender. So I'll force him to stop fighting, or worse, If It continued like this...

Her blazing sword struck directly downward, aimed at both his legs with clear intent to sever them completely.

If he can't stand or move, the match ends. Simple.

Leon's eyes tracked her descending sword with horrified clarity.

The pain is going to hit me again. I don't want that. Please, no more.

"Nooo..."

Stop it. Please stop.

His anger was reaching an absolute peak, boiling over into something primal.

I don't want any of this! Why? Why me?!

His mind was losing control, rational thought fragmenting.

From the very depths of his tortured soul, he screamed at the top of his lungs with every ounce of will he possessed:

"STOPPPPPPPP!!!"

An unknown power exploded outward from Leon's body, spreading across the entire massive arena in an invisible wave.

A cold pressure expanded like a heartbeat through space, distorting the air like a lens and brushing every skin it touched with weightless force.

WHUMMMMM!

The woman in fiery armor with her giant descending sword suddenly paused mid-strike—frozen completely.

Not just her.

The flying beast circling overhead locked in place, wings spread but motionless.

It didn't stop there.

The unknown power affected almost everyone inside and around the arena. Those watching from the giant steps—thousands of spectators—were caught in the effect.

Everyone below the Ascendant rank was frozen completely still in their place, locked like statues. Those at the Ascendant rank felt the power wash over them strongly for several seconds, struggling against it. Above Ascendant—those at Sage rank and higher—they merely felt its presence subtly but continued moving just fine, largely unaffected.

What... what is this power?!

In that same moment, along with his desperate scream, Leon felt something tear violently inside his throat.

CRACK! RIP!

Blood erupted from his mouth as internal damage manifested. He was coughing up blood continuously, experiencing intense pain throughout his neck and chest.

COUGH! COUGH! SPLATTER!

My throat... it's destroyed...

He could feel the blood pooling inside, taste copper and iron.

But those overwhelming, intense emotions—that absolute desperation and rage—had not only let his Lexiomancy racial ability break loose uncontrollably for the first time...

It had also awakened something else that had been carefully tamed and controlled for far too long.

His Holy energy is dormant and suppressed deep in his core.

Only a slip was enough. Just one moment of lost control.

The Holy energy burst forth like a devastating tsunami, an unstoppable flood.

WHOOOOOOSH! SHIMMER!

It devoured all his remaining mana in milliseconds, converting everything into pure golden-white radiance.

The entire arena fell into stunned, absolute silence.

It was like the world had been turned mute—no breeze, no cheers, no rumble of excitement, not even the subtle hum of voices. Just absolute, crushing stillness.

Most spectators were frozen, even their eyes locked in place—but those eyes were all focused on the arena center as they had been before the freeze took effect.

Where now there was only a silhouetted figure consumed entirely by brilliant golden-white light, radiant and overwhelming.

SHIMMER! GLOW! RADIATE!

All of Leon's wounds healed in an instant—flesh knitting, bones mending, blood replenishing.

CRACK! HEAL! SHIMMER!

Leon stood up—no, he was floating now, hovering above the ground without using the elemental combination flight technique he'd relied on before.

I'm... flying? Just from this energy alone?

He looked directly in front of him. The woman was frozen in place, her fiery sword suspended mid-swing exactly where it had been about to strike and cripple him.

To make me feel more pain. Pain I didn't want or deserve.

The Vice Chief, standing on the highest step, was watching all of this unfold with an expression of absolute peak curiosity and fascination—nothing more, no fear or concern.

Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

Leon, consumed by rage and Holy energy, punched the frozen woman's body directly in her chest over her protective armor.

BOOM!

A loud impact sound echoed across the silent arena.

But... nothing happened. Her armor was strong enough to completely block his strength without even cracking.

"WHYYY?! You can hurt me whenever you want, and I can't even SCRATCH you?!"

He was even more enraged than before, the injustice of it all crushing him.

It's not fair! Nothing is fair!

He punched again and again, over and over. He was absolutely enraged, though even through his fury, he knew logically she wouldn't remain frozen for much longer.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

He punched hundreds of times in just seconds, his fists moving in desperate blurs.

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