Hitory’s body lay on the ground, headless, surrounded by a pool of blood that stained the floor crimson. Anyone who saw it would have thought the end had come... but the battle wasn’t over yet.

  Something within him refused to accept that fate.

  An inexplicable force stirred. His soul did not detach, as if the world itself rejected his death. It was as if Hitory’s very essence was a stubborn flame, refusing to be extinguished.

  The energy around him began to warp. A black mist, thick with echoes of broken promises and unspoken secrets, began to seep from the scars on his body, slowly spreading.

  Then, Hitory’s severed head, lying a few meters away, opened its eyes—eyes that no longer reflected the human world, but something beyond, deep and terrifying.

  His soul was taking control.

  His body staggered for a moment—headless—but did not fall. An unknown force surged through every fiber of his being, guiding his movements. His hands, now steady and determined, reached toward the fallen head, fingers digging into the skin like claws. Slowly, he lifted it, blood dripping and staining his clothes. Purple smoke began to rise from the edges of his neck, thick and pulsing, as if darkness itself were taking form.

  With a sickening, grotesque sound, Hitory fitted his head back in place. The noise of bones adjusting echoed like a lament across the battlefield. The smoke intensified, spiraling around the freshly sealed scar, leaving a black mark that slowly spread, wrapping around his neck like scorched, evil roots etched into his skin.

  Silence fell for an instant, broken only by the heavy footsteps of the Knight, who backed away, eyes wide and breath ragged. He raised his sword again, but his hands visibly trembled.

  — “What the hell are you doing?? That… that’s not human! What are you, cursed creature?!”

  His voice, once confident, now carried a mixture of fear and disbelief. The air around them felt heavier, almost suffocating, as a malevolent energy began to gather around Hitory, causing the stones beneath him to subtly vibrate. For a brief moment, his eyes glowed with a dark light, as if something inside him had awakened—and was hungry.

  Hitory began to rise slowly, as if an invisible force lifted him. His movements were firm, yet almost mechanical, as the purple smoke still coiled in the air around his neck. The eerie silence was broken by a growing glow. Then, suddenly, a burst of purple light erupted from his body.

  The shockwave was devastating, throwing the Knight back violently and cracking the earth around them. The ground trembled as fragments of stone and dust danced in the air. When the light faded, Hitory stood tall, his shirt completely shredded by the blast, revealing the dark marks now covering his body.

  The Knight, still rising from the dust, stared at Hitory with a look of disbelief and a hint of respect. His metallic voice echoed, laced with surprise: — “So… you’re a bearer too.”

  Hitory, panting, stared at the armor. The scars began to spread across his body, like burning, cursed roots emerging from his skin, covering his arms, chest, and back. They became more visible with every breath he took. The pattern of his failed commitments was now impossible to ignore, reflecting both his instability and the weight of his curse.

  The scars, once focused around his neck, expanded, becoming a visible reflection of his condition—as if he bore the mark of his own destruction. Every past failure, every broken promise, was now etched into his flesh. Hitory knew that, even though these marks made him stronger, they also pulled him further away from humanity and from the connections he had already lost.

  The Knight attacked, and just when Hitory least expected it, a barrier formed around him—it looked like chains were holding him in place.

  The impact of the blade against the barrier sounded like thunder, a clash of energies that echoed into Hitory’s very soul. The force was colossal, but instead of dispersing, the energy was absorbed by the barrier, concentrating around him, turning discomfort into power. A single chain broke. With each passing second, the pressure increased, and the strength Hitory felt within grew exponentially, as if shaped by the chaos of the battle itself.

  With energy surging through his veins, he felt the weight of everything around him—the heat of his rising power, the pain accompanying it, and a growing sense of overwhelming strength. The power felt uncontrollable, something greater than he could understand. The barrier, though impenetrable, reflected his inner struggle—each wave of absorbed energy pushing another layer of his failures and distrust to the surface, further fueling his strength.

  Hitory’s head tilted downward, strands of hair falling over his face, hiding his eyes. It was as if he was overwhelmed, fighting to control the power now flooding every cell in his body. His muscles pulsed with energy, and his scars burned like roots digging deeper into his flesh. The emotional weight of loneliness grew heavier, pressing down with a force that made his heart race.

  Still, he didn’t back down.

  The power, now undeniable, made his hands tremble with anticipation and adrenaline. Hitory knew that whatever this was, it came at a price—and he was starting to feel that cost in excruciating ways. But in his heart, he knew he couldn’t stop. Not now.

  Still bowed, head lowered, Hitory’s eyes were locked on the void, as if absorbing the magnitude of his new state. And as the aura around him pulsed with immense strength, he knew something was about to change—an almost uncontrollable force, yet one that pulled him away from everything he once knew.

  The impact of the barrier made Hitory feel his power expand rapidly, an overwhelming sensation that pulsed through his body like a rising tide. His muscles contracted, and his mind grew hazy, but he couldn’t look away. He lowered his head, the weight of his soul and the burning of his scars now more intense than ever. He felt the power emanating from him like never before, but also a crushing loneliness consuming him.

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  The Knight, watching coldly, said nothing. Hitory, still with his head lowered, remained still, absorbing the energy while the barrier pulsed around him. The air grew heavier, and the battlefield’s atmosphere darkened.

  Unable to ignore the scene any longer, the Knight spoke in a mocking tone: “Felt the pressure of my glorious attack?”

  Hitory slowly lifted his head, his eyes now blazing with immeasurable intensity. The energy around him vibrated, and the environment seemed to warp. Then, something shifted. He let out a low, hissing chuckle that turned into a deep, malevolent laugh, reverberating through the air with an indescribable sense of power.

  “Don’t make me laugh,” Hitory said, a twisted smile on his face, as he let out a breath laced with pleasure. His eyes, now glowing with a dark radiance, stared down the Knight with an intensity that seemed to melt reality itself.

  The scars on his body, now fully visible and still growing, formed patterns resembling broken chains. With every second, they expanded, reflecting both his growing power and the emotional instability consuming him. He had changed—not just physically, but in essence.

  Hitory, now possessed by an overwhelming force, charges toward the knight with relentless determination. His body moves with lethal precision, and with a swift, furious motion, he delivers a violent punch to the knight’s left rib.

  The force of the impact creates a shockwave in the air, and the sound of the blow echoes like a contained explosion.

  Although Hitory is fully immersed in the battle, his stance leaves no doubt: he is left-handed. The punch, coming from the left side, was an unexpected strike to the knight, who had no time to react properly.

  The impact is brutal. The knight is thrown back by the punch, his body launched toward the wall like a projectile. However, before hitting the wall, something astounding happens. His feet, in an almost supernatural motion, dig into the ground with absurd force. Dust erupts beneath them as he halts his own momentum, stopping mere inches from collision.

  Amid the dust still dancing in the air, Hitory appears again, advancing with merciless fury. Without giving the knight time to recover, he throws another direct punch, smashing into the knight’s armored chest with tremendous strength. The metallic clang of the impact echoes, but Hitory doesn’t stop—punch after punch, each strike fiercer than the last, pushing the knight backward until his body slams violently against the stone wall, cracking it with the sheer force.

  The dust slowly clears, revealing the knight slumped against the wall. For a moment, silence takes over the arena. The knight lowers his head, inspecting his body—his armor is deeply dented, nearly unrecognizable, covered in cracks and scars from Hitory’s brutal onslaught.

  He raises his gaze slowly, and his voice echoes, laced with disbelief—and a hint of respect.

  “Is it possible... someone with such strength? A mere human... able to do this to me?”

  The dark gleam in the knight’s eyes wavers for a moment, as if doubt begins to creep in.

  Hitory appears before him once more, unrelenting, unleashing a devastating flurry of blows with his bare hands. Each strike rumbles like thunder, crushing the armor inch by inch until the metallic body is irreparably mangled.

  The knight, still against the wall, seems on the verge of collapse, his steel frame emitting low groans, as if it were... whispering.

  Suddenly, a muffled, almost agonizing voice breaks the silence:

  “Free me... please, free me...”

  Hitory, panting, narrows his eyes, still consumed by his dark strength. He stares at the armor, confused, trying to understand where the plea came from. A shadow of who he once was begins to resurface, bringing a flicker of hesitation—but not enough to hold him back entirely.

  “What are you saying?” — he asks, his voice filled with suspicion.

  “Free me...” the voice repeats, clearer this time, like a desperate prayer.

  Hitory furrows his brow, his gaze growing even darker.

  “Free you...?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh, tilting his head. “Free you from what, you filthy scrap metal?”

  Silence falls again, but the glow in the empty eyes of the armor begins to shift...

  — “I was once a King... of a kingdom now buried by time and earth. This place... these ruins where we now stand, were once my castle.”

  The voice from the armor carries a deep weight, each word heavy with bitterness and regret.

  — “But I was never meant to rule... No, the throne did not belong to me. It was my elder brother’s. The perfect king, beloved by all.”

  A chill runs down Hitory’s spine. Something in the way the armor speaks makes the air feel denser, more suffocating.

  — “But love and admiration were not enough for me... Pride was my sin. My hunger for power grew until nothing else remained. I killed him with my own hands, forever staining royal blood.”

  The ground beneath Hitory’s feet seems to pulse, as if the castle itself had awakened upon hearing the confession.

  — “But the throne I so desired became my prison. The castle closed in on me... and the darkness welcomed me. An ancient curse fell upon this place, sealing my soul in this iron shell and dooming the kingdom to eternal oblivion. Now, I am but a fragment of what I was... a trapped spirit, awaiting release.”

  The voice grows deeper, almost guttural, as the light in the armor’s eyes flickers with deadly intensity.

  — “But you... you have a chance to be different. Or... to be consumed by your own ambitions, just as I was.”

  Hitory clenches his fists, feeling the heavy energy of the chamber surrounding him.

  — “Why tell me this now?” — he asks, tension building in his voice.

  The armor tilts its head slowly.

  — “Because... perhaps I see something familiar in you. Or maybe... this is just another test.”

  End of Episode 24: “Where Death Hesitated”