As the words faded from her mouth, my body became weightless.

  Gravity became irrelevant as I watched myself being driven far away from the city stone. It was as if Michelangelo were repainting The Creation of Adam, but in reverse.

  I, a creature molded by the gods and the system, was being pulled away from the one thing I held dear—the opportunity to make the world a better place for the ones I loved most.

  Then came the healing and the mana replenishing. It arrived like a wave at first, then a breeze. My body faced the sky as I floated, intoxicated by the soothing sensation.

  I was transported into a complete state of well-being, something I hadn't felt in weeks—maybe months—since life hadn’t been easy juggling university and work.

  In that moment, though, I was at peace with myself, completely transfixed by the feeling of being replenished.

  That sentiment was only replaced when a voice reached my ears.

  It was the motherly voice of my deity.

  "Our reach can't find you anymore," she whispered, her voice filled with regret.

  The masculine voice came after, a grumble of annoyance.

  "We wanted to give you something great, kiddo. But they didn’t let us."

  That was the nicest thing that side of the god had ever said to me, which prompted a small smile on my face.

  "The good news is that your adversary can't be aided either. It'll be a clean fight," the motherly voice came again.

  "That man has a beast inside him, Zachary. Let loose yours to defeat his—to defeat his god. He’ll probably find another one to sponsor, but killing the bastard will buy you more time to get stronger," the masculine voice said in my other ear, its tone laced with urgency, like a coach in the corner of a ring.

  And accomplish more… a lot more. The feminine voice followed. It'll be merciful to end his life. I approve it.

  It will be excellent to see his blood bathe the halls of your new city—the first one, the masculine voice hissed. Give it all you've got.

  Kill him. They said in unison as my feet touched the ground.

  I opened my eyes, and finally, my surroundings became distinguishable. We were at the top of the mountain, and all our allies stood in a circle.

  I could sense a veil between me and them—the kind that burned upon touch. The city stone was no longer at the center of the arena, nor was the hostess of the show.

  She appeared in the air, though, like a hologram in the sky, only showing her upper half. A microphone in one hand, she smiled from ear to ear.

  "Good night, Multiverse!" she called as I glanced over my shoulder.

  I saw all the familiar faces behind me, etched with worry and, at the same time, relief. They weren’t fighting a giant anymore, and no one seemed hurt.

  Tress stood there, holding hands with Mary and Elk. Mila was close with her friends, Emilia and the two Arahaktar as well. The elder Myriad and his son also stared at me intently, waiting for the fight to begin, probably fearing for my life.

  I wanted to reassure them I wouldn’t die, but I doubted my voice would reach them.

  "A duel for a city stone! The first of this edition, but we hope it’s not the last! We still have hundreds upon hundreds being disputed as we speak, and don’t worry—you’ll be able to watch all of them in our extended show later tonight, as well as in our extended cut on the Ascension Platform."

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  She reassured the audience and then looked down.

  "This, though, is a battle to be watched with keen eyes. Friends on the first day, enemies ever since. Both deem the other a traitor and are sponsored by gods that hate each other."

  "We couldn’t create a narrative like this even if we wanted!" She smiled, and for a moment, I wondered if this had been planned somehow, but I couldn’t see how.

  With each word she spoke, the views in the corner of my vision exploded—billions of people were watching my viewpoint right now, along with at least a hundred deities.

  They kept coming and coming, and knowing that, the hostess kept stalling to push the numbers even higher.

  "On one side, we have Zach Walker, our only dual-classer of this edition! A mage and a rogue, sponsored by the god of Mercy and Destruction—one of the Death deities—the reclusive dual figure of Lyrathos!"

  "On the other side, we have Max Jankovic, a brave warrior. He’s never shied away from victory and has done everything necessary to survive our games. His taste for blood and unwavering anger caught the attention of the God of Blood himself—Margn the Great!"

  She let the silence sink in as I stared across the arena. Max had his eyes locked on me as he stretched his arms and neck. I was doing the same, preparing my body for the confrontation. The most important one yet—the one I knew would happen sooner or later. Better now than later.

  "The rules will be the same as always in these cases. Since deities tend to intervene when their protégés' lives are at risk, we've disabled all communication and any ability to access powers granted by the gods. There will be no midfight boons—no boons at all. We’ve carefully evaluated both competitors and decided they can each choose one weapon, even one given by the gods, since theirs are of similar power."

  "The duel will last for twenty minutes or until one of you is dead. If the timer reaches zero, we’ll analyze who took more damage and decide a winner objectively." She looked down at me.

  "Zach, please choose your weapon and show it."

  I raised my hand, and my ceremonial dagger appeared—slower than when I had the gods’ bracelets, but still there.

  I no longer had the high constitution buff and no friend to save, but I’d still gain strength for every minute in battle.

  She asked the same of Max, and he raised a short sword.

  As the light shone over the blond man, I finally saw the weapon for what it truly was. I could see the black leather straps wrapped around his fingers on the hilt and some of the metal on the blade, but most of it was drenched in blood—blood that oozed and dripped onto the ground beneath him. A boon he could keep, just like the one I carried.

  That was the weapon that could turn blood into blades in the air, but I supposed the shield and speed buff weren’t coming from it. Those were the boons he couldn't use, just like I couldn’t summon and resummon my weapons quickly or juggle them as I had learned earlier today. There would be no poisoning or stunning effects from my blade in its different forms.

  A blade fight, like in the old days. But the bastard had the reach advantage. What were my advantages?

  I was stronger, taller, and had higher stats—higher than any of my friends. We hadn’t spent a single day without struggling or fighting to earn more levels or shards.

  Besides, I had gained several extra points through a lot of titles, and those were still with me.

  So I counted: I had more physical prowess, longer limbs, and better stats. He had his magical blade, a cunning mindset, and his hatred for me.

  Lyrathos had said the man had a beast inside him, but I had one too, and I wasn’t planning on holding it back.

  As we stared at each other, I finally understood what the gods had been talking about before—how I had an uncertainty rooted inside me. That was why I remembered the first few words we’d traded before he attacked me.

  I remembered he had lied, but he had also told the truth. He was a bastard, but he was still human.

  That was the seed of doubt—the seed I destroyed inside myself.

  He was human, and he’d probably done one or two good things in his life before and after the show. But he was also a monster—one that would throw anyone in front of the train to save his own ass.

  One that always chose violence when given the option, one that dehumanized others when needed. Tonight, I’d fight him on equal terms.

  No matter how human he looked to my eyes.

  In my mind, he was a rabid animal—one that needed to be put down. I decided in that moment, I wouldn’t say a word to him.

  I’d only speak through metal and metal alone.

  "Are you ready to fight?" the hostess asked from the skies.

  We both nodded at the same time. My armor disappeared, and my clothes were replaced with a simple white t-shirt and trousers. I had no shoes anymore, and my inventory was empty.

  "Fight!" she commanded.

  I roared and dashed toward Max, hearing him echo my primal scream as he rushed to meet me.

  I knew he was going to try something dirty, and I knew it would be soon—I just wasn’t expecting to be completely unable to see where it was coming from.

  The air crackled behind me.

  A blood attack!

  I realized it just in time and rolled to the ground, ready to reassess and see what had happened to his blade after that.

  But as I commanded my body to roll onto my back, I saw—too late—that I’d rolled directly toward one of his blood blades protruding from the ground.