Chapter 114: Ren vs Rakan (2)
Meanwhile, the fight in the arena was growing fiercer.
Rakan was giving everything he had, but he could feel his strength waning. He was certain he had hit Ren with his blade—the feel of metal piercing flesh was familiar. But shockingly, Ren seemed unfazed. And then, a hard hit to Rakan’s leg produced a sickening sound. His bone had cracked. The pain was almost unbearable.
However, in a strange way, this pain was a relief to Rakan. It meant he wasn’t dreaming. It meant he was here in this arena, and not trapped in that nightmarish cage from his memories.
He tried to get up, his vision all hazy, and noticed Ren was also struggling to his feet.
Rakan couldn’t help but wonder about Ren’s past. "What has he been through to be so unyielding, to keep rising, refusing to be defeated?"
"They’re pushing themselves way too hard. This isn’t what I was expecting," Olivia commented from the stands, shaking her head in disbelief.
"I can’t even imagine having that kind of determination," she added softly.
A tiny panda, colored in contrasting shades of black and white, tumbled about at her feet, seeming displeased.
She looked over at Luther, "Sir, you have to end this now."
"The fight goes on until one of them can’t stand anymore. Only the last one standing is fit for the job," Luther replied coldly.
Away from the Tower, there might have been hints of the old Luther. But here, under the Queen’s shadow, he was a different person. He was entirely devoted to fulfilling her every wish.
The final moments of the fight were drawing near. Ren was gaining the upper hand over Rakan. But even after taking hit after hit, Rakan would always somehow find the strength to stand up, gripping his sword tightly with his one good arm.
"Let me have some of his blood, then I can split him right down the middle. He’s getting on my nerves," a strange voice said, coming from the hilt of Ren’s sword.
Despite his injuries, Rakan still tried to hold himself up, using his blade to keep from collapsing.
"Just give up," Ren advised, choosing not to deliver the final blow. Instead, he put away his red-tinted sword.
"Enough," echoed in the thoughts of all the alphas watching.
But Rakan, leaning on his blade, refused to surrender. Every now and then, there would be a spark from the exposed wires of his broken mechanical arm.
With immense effort, he looked up, searching for Kestrel on the high platform. And there she was, tall and majestic, her eyes fixed on him.
Rakan’s mind drifted back to the time when Kestrel had first asked him if he wanted to live. He did want to live, but life had become an uphill battle. His mechanical arm was gone, and his psychic landscape was in shambles, close to shattering.
All he desired was to repay the kindness Kestrel had shown him, but it looked like he’d fall short.
Kestrel, clad in a flowing white dress, stood on a raised platform, watching the battlefield with an unreadable expression. Then, a pair of large, golden eyes appeared behind her from the shadows.
Many had wondered about Kestrel’s psychic incarnation. "What would the psychic incarnation of such a powerful beta look like? Perhaps a cute bunny, a tiny kitten, or maybe a gentle deer?"
But now, it partially revealed itself to the gathered alphas.
It was massive and mysterious, with an overpowering presence. Those gleaming golden eyes stared down at everyone, making it hard for them to maintain eye contact.
Soft tendrils danced in the shadows behind her. Suddenly, one enormous tendril, dotted with suction cups, rose from the ground of the arena. It gently touched Rakan’s forehead.
Rakan, who had been so defiant, momentarily froze. It was as if he’d been put under a spell. He closed his eyes and crumpled to the ground.
To everyone’s shock, the tendril then wrapped around Ren’s arm, curling its tip affectionately.
...
Rakan slowly regained consciousness, finding himself floating in a green liquid of a healing pod. His psychic incarnation, a majestic black unicorn, wasn’t in his psychic landscape.
It was outside, next to the pod, allowing Kestrel to tenderly stroke its dark mane. Its horn drooped down low.
Squatting next to the unicorn, Kestrel gently patted its head.
"Sorry, I let you down," Rakan thought, hoping she’d pick up on his thoughts. "I only wanted to be with you on the journey to the Eyehole."
"You didn’t let me down," a comforting voice replied in his mind.
Rakan realized he was still inside the healing pod, with tendrils swirling around him in the liquid.
Though the pod blocked outside noise, the voice spoke directly to his mind.
"You need to fix your psychic landscape. Why didn’t you find a beta to help you after you came back?"
This mental connection made conversation easier, especially when voicing deep-seated emotions.
"I didn’t want anyone to see... the chaos inside," Rakan admitted. His psychic landscape was a nightmarish realm, full of haunting memories and visions of destruction. It was teetering on the edge of collapse.
Rakan had considered seeking help from the betas in the Tower multiple times. He often found himself standing outside the Empire’s grooming chamber, hesitant. The memories that haunted him were deeply personal, and the idea of others witnessing his moments of captivity and potentially ridiculing him held him back from seeking assistance.
Eventually, he abandoned the idea of grooming, convinced that no one could possibly heal his fragmented psychic landscape.
"Would you like me to assist with your psychic grooming?" Kestrel typically spoke in short, direct sentences. However, within this realm of mental communication, where thoughts flowed seamlessly, her voice felt warmer.
Rakan remembered the times he had shown his vulnerabilities before Kestrel, even breaking down and expressing his deep-seated desire to survive.
The unicorn affectionately nuzzled Kestrel’s hand with its horn.
Taking a deep breath, Rakan let down his psychic barriers.
Submerged in the green healing fluid, a gentle tendril shielded his eyes.
His psychic realm was represented as a vast forest. Currently, a fierce fire blazed through it. This inferno had been raging for a while, belching dense smog that blanketed the skies. Flames consumed beautiful gardens, thick woods, and luminescent meadows, obliterating the sanctuaries of many spirits.
He sensed Kestrel’s soft sigh.
Dark clouds clustered overhead in this psychic realm, and soon, a gentle rain began. It wasn’t torrential or sudden but tender and soothing. The rain persisted, steadily dousing the fire.
As the raindrops continuously fell, they revived the charred landscape. Wisps of white mist danced through the recovering woods, and small streams washed away the ashen remnants. The burdens and pain that once suffocated Rakan’s heart started to dissipate in this consistent downpour, making everything seem more manageable.
Amid the sound of rain, Kestrel’s voice echoed:
"You’re hurt, and you need the help of a beta."
"This healing might be a process, taking many sessions."
"I’m headed to the Polluted Zone soon. Can you consider seeking aid from another beta?"
Rakan remained silent.
Green shoots began sprouting from the scorched earth in his psychic forest, signaling his answer.
"I’m sorry I had plans to join you on the journey to the Eyehole. But it seems there’s someone more suited for that."
"This individual is formidable, even more resilient than I."
"It’s okay. As long as we’re both alive, there will be countless chances for us to fight side by side."
"He’s right. I was shortsighted. What you need isn’t just protection, but a true partner in battle. I can’t wait to witness your strength."
"The journey ahead is fraught with danger. Ensure both of you come back safely."
"Remember our promise to reunite if we both got out of the Erdtree’s Polluted Zone?"
"We can renew that promise."
"Once you’re back from the Polluted Zone this time."
"Once I’ve fully recovered."
"We’ll see each other again."
