Nigel’s body tensed in shock.

  His mind froze for a fraction of a second.

  Then—steel flashed.

  A single vertical slash.

  Dovak’s greatsword split William in two.

  Smoke.

  The body vanished instantly. Not real, just another illusion.

  Nigel exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself.

  He took a step forward—

  And his legs gave out beneath him.

  The ground rushed up to meet him, but he forced his body to catch itself before collapsing completely.

  Pain.

  A deep, searing agony burned through his side.

  Nigel’s hand trembled as he lifted his shirt to inspect the wound.

  His stomach twisted.

  The area around the puncture site was turning black.

  Dark veins spread outward, pulsing beneath his skin—and they were growing.

  Fast.

  The flesh around the wound boiled, as if it were melting from the inside out.

  Nigel had never seen a venom like this.

  And he had no idea what kind it was.

  His breathing steadied.

  Panicking wouldn’t help. It wasn’t like there was no solution.

  Nigel forced his fingers to stop shaking, reaching into his inventory with practiced speed.

  A small vial appeared in his hand.

  Liquid Life, the label read.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  He popped the cork with his thumb and downed the contents in one gulp, giving him instant relief.

  His wounds sealed almost instantly—even the puncture left by the dagger.

  Nigel clenched his fists, as the healing process caused some serious pain.

  The poison vanished like it wasn’t even there in the first place.

  Liquid Life was a miraculous concoction, designed to accelerate the body’s natural regeneration at a chemical level. Though it couldn’t heal diseases.

  The rich used it to delay the symptoms of terminal illnesses, prolonging their lives by days, weeks, or even months—if they could afford it.

  Nigel understood why.

  A surge of power came with Liquid Life and lasted only seconds.

  But Nigel used it well.

  In a single, blinding motion, he lunged toward Dovak, who had no other choice but to fend off several illusions while Nigel was recovering, and with one brutal arc of Reaper, five enemies fell at once.

  Then, just as quickly as it had come—

  The high faded.

  His body returned to normal.

  The dull ache of fatigue settled in again.

  "You good, man?" Dovak grunted, knocking several illusions back with a powerful swing.

  "For now…" Nigel muttered, slashing the throat of another incoming attacker.

  "What if we get the hell out of here and find William?," Dovak suggested as he started moving toward the edge of the plaza.

  They moved quickly, cutting down a few remaining illusions as they went, until finally—the buildings swallowed them again.

  They were back in the streets of the Citadel.

  Dovak suddenly halted.

  Nigel stopped just behind him.

  Then—

  Dovak dropped to one knee and placed his palm flat on the ground.

  He exhaled slowly, then pressed his weight into the earth.

  A message appeared above his wristband.

  [K?MPANA]

  The moment the skill activated, a deep, resonant chime rang out.

  Like a massive bell had been struck, sending a vibration rippling through the very fabric of the Citadel.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The ground hummed beneath them, the sound carrying outward.

  It wasn’t harsh or violent.

  It was subtle. Gentle. Almost comforting.

  But its reach was far.

  Nigel narrowed his eyes. "What was that?"

  Dovak sighed. "K?mpana…" He muttered the name like it annoyed him.

  "One of my skills. It creates a sound wave that sends out a controlled vibration across a limited area."

  Nigel tilted his head. "And what’s the point of it?"

  "Everything produces vibrations."

  Dovak dusted off his hands as he spoke.

  "With K?mpana, I’ve learned to read them. When its wave collides with something I’m looking for, I can detect its presence."

  Nigel’s eyebrows lifted. "That’s actually pretty us—"

  "Yeah, yeah." Dovak waved him off. "But there’s a catch."

  His lips pressed into a thin line.

  "I need to have felt the vibration before. Otherwise, I have no idea what the hell I’m detecting. Maybe rough shapes, or people if they’re near enough."

  Nigel nodded slowly. "So, I suppose you were trying to find William."

  Dovak’s expression hardened.

  "Indeed, my man, indeed. We’ve only spent a few hours together, so I barely got a read on his frequency, but… I think he’s about two hundred meters from here."

  Nigel gritted his teeth.

  "And?"

  Dovak’s gaze darkened.

  "He’s not alone."

  They ran.

  They weaved through the labyrinth of streets, pushing past debris, navigating around collapsed buildings—

  And then, finally—

  They found him.

  William lay motionless, face down on the ground.

  Three figures stood around him.

  Their bodies rigid. Unmoving.

  Their eyes locked onto something in the distance.

  Illusions.

  Nigel gritted his teeth.

  "Probably left behind by Charles."

  Dovak’s fingers tightened around his greatsword. "Bastard’s using them as watchmen."

  Nigel nodded.

  If they got too close, the illusions would activate.

  Or worse—they’d attack William instead.

  They had to take them out without giving them a chance to react.

  A simple plan formed in Nigel’s mind. One that just required speed and raw brutality.

  "Dovak."

  His voice was low, barely above a whisper.

  Dovak tilted his head slightly.

  "I’ll handle the two on the left with Reaper. The moment I move, you charge the one on the right and cut it down before it can react."

  Dovak cracked his neck. "Got it."

  Nigel met his gaze.

  Then—he moved. "Now!"

  They launched forward.

  Nigel’s scythe cut through the first two illusions in a single, fluid motion.

  The figures flew apart, their bodies dissolving into black smoke before they even hit the ground.

  At the same time, Dovak thundered forward.

  His greatsword swung in a clean arc.

  The final illusion never saw it coming.

  The blade sliced through its neck, severing its head instantly.

  The body barely had time to shudder before it disappeared.

  The moment the last enemy was gone, they rushed to William’s side.

  Nigel knelt beside him, carefully turning him over.

  His face was covered in blood.

  A deep gash split the side of his head, just above his left temple.

  Nigel’s stomach tightened.

  The bleeding had stopped, but…

  "Damn it…" He muttered, reaching into his inventory.

  A small vial appeared in his palm.

  Liquid Life. The last one he had.

  He uncorked it, tilting William’s head back slightly before pouring the contents into his mouth.

  For a moment—nothing.

  Then, William’s wounds began to mend.

  The gash sealed itself, leaving only a thin scar cutting through his hairline.

  His muscles relaxed, the tension fading from his body.

  Nigel let out a small breath of relief.

  "Alright."

  He hoisted William onto his back, securing his grip.

  Dovak adjusted his sword.

  "Let’s move."

  Without another word, they left the scene behind.

  They walked for about ten minutes before finding a narrow alley they could use for cover. There, they carefully set William down against the wall.

  "I don’t think he’ll wake up anytime soon," Nigel muttered. "That hit to the head was bad. He should be healed, but let’s hope there’s no permanent damage."

  "And what do we do? Carry him with us? Leave him here?" Dovak asked, his voice laced with concern.

  In his current state, William was dead weight.

  Leaving him behind would be the logical choice—it would make things easier, give them a better chance of surviving the tournament.

  Nigel thought of leaving him there, but something flashed in his mind.

  A smile from an old friend, and a single thought: What would he do now?

  ”We keep moving together, ” he said, with an unreadable expression.

  Dovak sighed in relief.

  “Good. Wasn’t a fan of ditching him either.”

  He reached into his inventory and pulled out a small cylindrical device. Without hesitation, he stabbed it into the ground and pressed a button on top. Thin rods extended outward, forming a large octagonal frame.

  Nigel frowned. "What is that?"

  "An amplifier." Dovak tapped it twice. "Think of it like K?mpana, but instead of activating my skill, it just expands my range. Not as precise, but good enough. Should last three hours—give or take."

  Nigel watched as he finished setting up the device and then sat down beside it, keeping one hand pressed to the ground.

  "So you can sense vibrations even without your skill?" Nigel asked, pulling a bottle of water from his inventory.

  Dovak nodded. "Yeah, but it’s like feeling a tremor without knowing where it’s coming from. K?mpana lets me pinpoint exact targets. This thing just…" He shrugged. "Makes the picture less blurry."

  Nigel took a sip of water, letting the explanation settle. It made sense.

  The plaza remained eerily quiet, shadows shifting with the dim light above.

  For nearly two hours, they stayed on alert—barely speaking, barely moving. Their ears strained for the faintest sound, their bodies tensed in silent anticipation.

  Every so often, Nigel glanced at William. His breathing was steady, his injuries healed, but his body remained motionless, as if his mind had yet to return.

  The weight on Nigel’s chest was lighter now.

  The decision to stay had settled something inside him—not erased the guilt, but lessened its grip.

  Then—

  A groan.

  "I… what… what happened?"

  William.

  His voice was hoarse, his head slowly turning. His eyes, still unfocused, darted between them.

  Dovak grinned. "Took a hell of a beating, that’s what."

  Nigel leaned forward. "Charles slammed you into a building. Knocked you out cold." He paused, then added, "We found you and used Liquid Life to fix you up. Otherwise…" He gestured vaguely. "You’d be as good as dead."

  William blinked sluggishly. His thoughts were still scrambled, but the mention of Liquid Life snapped him back to reality.

  "Wait—Liquid Life? That stuff’s expensive as hell!"

  "I know," Nigel said, tearing open a ration pack. "Good thing there was a two-for-one special."

  William stared at him.

  "...You're joking."

  Nigel didn’t even blink. "Am I?"

  William opened his mouth to argue—then closed it.

  Dovak snorted. "Damn. First time I’ve heard you crack a joke, and it’s about overpriced miracle juice."

  Nigel ignored him and reached into his inventory, pulling out a strip of dried meat.

  "Here. Eat."

  William hesitated at first, but once he took a bite, he devoured it like a starving man.

  Nigel handed him another. Then another.

  He kept eating, shoveling down every piece offered like his stomach was bottomless.

  Finally, he let out a satisfied sigh. "I think I’ve had enough."

  He swallowed, then hesitated.

  "Uh… thanks," he said quietly. "For saving me. And… everything else."

  "No problem, man," Dovak said, clapping him hard on the back.

  William nearly choked.

  Dovak winced. "Oh, uh… my bad."

  William coughed a few times before looking up at Nigel, his expression more serious.

  "Why?" he asked. "Why did you save me?"

  He clenched his fists.

  "Why waste Liquid Life… on me?"

  Dovak opened his mouth to speak, but Nigel answered first.

  "If we want even the slightest chance of making it through the Chaos Tournament, we need to stick together. Preferably alive," Nigel said. "Besides, no healing item can fix brain damage—except for the one I gave you."

  He made it sound like a purely strategic move. Like saving William’s life was about survival, not sentiment.

  But as he watched William stare at the ground, gripping the fabric of his sleeve, Nigel found himself gripping the Reaper a little tighter.

  Deep down, he knew the truth.

  He just wasn’t ready to say it.