Welnar slowly stands up, Kali’s lifeless hand slumping to the ground. The Collector stands a fair distance away, watching. Waiting… His body healed itself as much as it could, but some parts of his armor ended up melting and solidifying onto his skin… It should be immensely painful, yet he doesn’t bat an eye.

  “Are you finished with your mourning? I would like to wrap this up.” He says, pulling the greatsword out of the ground. Welnar doesn’t respond.

  “Hey. I asked a question.” The Collector says, his tone more annoyed now. Welnar still does not respond… Instead, Welnar unleashes an overwhelming pressure upon the Collector that shakes him to his very core… Invokes a primal fear. To his surprise, his body trembles involuntarily. “What is this?”

  Blue veins of mana begin to run all throughout Welnar’s body… And he begins to push his body past its limits. The veins of mana pulse and grow larger with power as he pushes it even further. His mana begins to naturally adapt itself, its capabilities… For the sole purpose of killing the Collector.

  Welnar closes the distance in the blink of an eye, throwing a left hook that is closely followed by a secondary blast of mana! The blow stuns the Collector, Welnar striking with a gut punch. The Collector takes the punch, trying to swing downwards upon Welnar with his sword… But by the time he swings, Welnar disappears from view. A kick to the head from the side staggers the Collector, who turns to face Welnar once more…

  The veins of mana pulse again, growing even larger. They pulse another time… But now… Welnar himself, seems to get a bit bigger. His muscles begin to bulge, his skin turning a shade redder, sweat beginning to form and that sweat evaporating to steam. His primal mana runs rampant through his body, giving great strength… But tearing his body apart in the process.

  He can feel Monarch trying to say something… But he doesn’t care. Welnar doesn’t care for the consequences… He just needs the thing in front of him dead.

  The ground beneath him cracks, and Welnar is upon the Collector before he can react. A flurry of blows pummel and batter him! He tries to swing through the flurry, but Welnar slips under it and follows with a devastating uppercut! A cross, a hook, a body blow, The Collector is faced with an overwhelming assault at blinding speeds. Another wild swing, but this time Welnar sidesteps it, grabbing the wrist with one hand and the shoulder with the other… Yanking him into a powerful knee to the gut! He coughs and drops his sword, the injuries quickly piling up. Immediately after the knee, Welnar brings that same leg behind the Collector’s and sweeps, slamming him to the ground!

  The ground cracks further from the powerful throw, and Welnar climbs on top of him… Sending blow after blow for his head. Blinded by his rage, he doesn’t even consider trying to use the Scarlet Armory to his advantage… The Collector regardless has no choice but to try and weather the storm, keeping his arms close to his head until an opportunity presents itself… His forearms are battered again and again… His plating denting inwards, bit by bit… The killing intent that invoked that fear into The Collector has not wavered in the slightest.

  …Now’s his chance! He shifts his head to the side to avoid a punch, opening a rift and pulling out a shortsword, thrusting up for Welnar! His blade meets flesh, but rather than hitting the head as he expected… His blade would go through Welnar’s wrist, down to the cross guard. Is he nuts?! Regardless, it seems to have startled him enough that he can throw him off, both of them getting back to their feet. The Collector eyes the greatsword he had dropped… Welnar does the same. Is he thinking of taking it? The crazy bastard doesn’t even seem bothered by the sword through his wrist…

  The Collector opens a rift, pulling out the warhammer once more… Slamming it on the ground as Welnar dashes for the greatsword! A shockwave rings out from the point of impact, and in a cone in front of him the ground cracks, suddenly shooting upwards in massive chunks of debris. Welnar loses his footing in the process, stumbling before he can reach the sword. “Invoke: Haste.”

  The Collector closes in on the sword and picks it up first, swinging down upon Welnar. The Scarlet spear flies in, blocking the slash with the shaft and shoving it aside… Only for Welnar to get up, grabbing the spear and harnessing its power as he twirls around, creating a whirlwind of flame around him! The Collector jumps back from the flames, but as he does the spear is thrown straight at his head! It scrapes along the side of his helmet, having just barely tilted his head enough to avoid it… Only to be met with a fist where his head had been going. An already devastating hook becoming an even more brutal blow with the Collector leaning into it, his brain is utterly rocked as he staggers back, legs buckling and his body ceasing to respond for a moment. He hadn’t even seen Welnar exit the whirlwind…

  Another blow to the gut rattles his body, ribs cracking underneath immense force. It’s then that the Collector notices that Welnar’s body… It’s tearing itself apart even further.

  While within the whirlwind, Welnar had pushed his mana a step further, strengthening himself even more. His skin has begun to tear, giving way to flesh beneath. His mana itself is running low, and soon he’ll have to start using his soul energy as a substitute. A faint voice rings in his mind. {“WELNAR YOU IDIOT, THE HEART! GET THE HEART!”} Monarch yells. She’s been yelling at him this entire time, trying to get him to calm down. {“DON’T YOU DARE DIE ON ME AFTER WE’VE COME THIS FAR, PLEASE WELNAR!”} She continues.

  As he feels ribs cave in beneath his fist, Welnar feels his own knuckles crack. His reckless punches and mana flow is seriously taking its toll, but the pain doesn’t register to him. He follows up on his gut punch with a haymaker, sending the Collector soaring back, only stopping once he hits a tree. The heart… He needs to claim his heart. With a wave of his hand, the translucent, purple sword forms in his grasp. The Collector slowly tries to get to his feet…

  “I’m ending this…” Welnar mutters. And he dashes forward in the blink of an eye, his blade aimed for the heart. But it stops, just before… The Collector barely managing to hold onto Welnar’s wrist. For the first time, he catches a glimpse of the Collector’s eyes. There’s a fire burning inside them… A fire of determination, just like him.

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  But his hold is weak. He’s grown exhausted. It seems he can’t even open a rift anymore…

  “I know your type… You think you’re some hero, don’t you? Some icon of justice?” The Collector says. “Don’t fool yourself… You’re a monster, just like me.”

  “SHUT UP!” Welnar screams, and with a final push the purple blade pierces straight through the armor, and into his chest. The Collector coughs, blood spilling from the gaps in his helmet. Welnar yanks the blade back, pulling with it the Determined heart. The Collector’s hand goes limp… And he falls to his knees.

  {“Welnar, listen to me. You need to breathe. Breathe Welnar…”} Monarch pleads, her voice growing clearer now. Welnar takes a deep, shaky breath in… Slowly letting it out. The veins of mana pulsing with power die down, and eventually disappear entirely as his body returns to normal. But the pain, the wounds still remain. His skin is torn all over his body, his muscles screaming with agony from being over used, his knuckles shattered. Welnar stumbles, trying to catch himself but failing. He lies in the wet dirt, the rain still pouring upon him… The purple sword disappears, leaving the soul in Welnar’s hand. He clutches it to his chest, trying to crush it… But he can’t. He’s too weak. His vision is growing blurry…

  {“Just rest Welnar… You’ll live.”} Monarch calmly says.

  Slowly, Welnar’s vision fades. Eventually, everything goes dark. His mana gets to work within his body, making adaptations at a rapid pace… All in the name of survival. No matter what.

  …

  Welnar bolts awake, looking around in a momentary panic. It’s dark… Underneath him is… A bed? A sudden burst of pain running through Welnar’s body causes him to freeze up. He also notices the subtle glow of the orb he’s holding… He still has it? {“Monarch?”} Welnar tries to call for her. No answer. She must still be asleep…

  To his side, a couple meters out a door opens. Light shines through, and a man steps in before gasping quietly. He leans his head back out the door… “Hey, your friend is awake!” Calling out to someone else, then walking over to Welnar and lighting a candle on the table beside his bed. It’s… A monk? Blue robe, bald young man… They look strikingly similar, and if not for them speaking earlier Welnar definitely would have mistaken him for the first one he met. Wait, how did he get here in the first place?!

  “Your body is still healing. Please, lay down and rest.” The monk says.

  “H-how… How did I get here?” Welnar asks, slowly laying back down… His body aching the whole way.

  “One of my brothers found you passed out in a bloody heap. Apparently you two have met before, so he brought you back to our mountain. I don’t know how you survived such a long trip being passed out the whole time… But you did.”

  “How… Long?”

  “Ten days.”

  Welnar sits there a few seconds, simply processing that. Ten days? How, that shouldn’t be physically possible! Unless… Welnar looks at his hands. His body definitely seems skinnier, malnourished…

  {“Your mana put your body in a sort of stasis. Kept only the bare minimum going to keep you alive, and from deteriorating too much.”} Monarch says, having finally woken up. {“Now that you’re awake again though… Expect to eat like a pig soon.”}

  The concept of Survival… Just how far can it go to keep him alive? The thought mildly concerns Welnar, but he pushes it back for now. Another person walks into the room, this time with a familiar voice. The monk he met back in that ramen shop…

  “It is good to see you alive, friend.” He says. He pats the other monk’s shoulder, the two of them nodding before the first leaves.

  “So… What happened back there? Do you remember?” The monk asks. Welnar recalls the memory as best he can…

  “I was fighting that… That knight looking bounty hunter. I beat him… I-I got his soul.” Welnar says, holding up the orb he still holds now. The monk gives him a quizzical look. “Did you now?”

  “I’ve got it right here!” Welnar says, pointing to the orb. {“He can’t see it. Don’t bother.”} Monarch says. Welnar sighs, lowering his hands as the monk looks at him as if he’s gone insane. He may not be wrong.

  “I… Also saw your lady-”

  Welnar suddenly regains consciousness again. What happened? He’s still laying down… Did the monk even notice? He doesn’t seem worried or anything… All he can remember is… One sentence… “Make them pay.”

  {“Welnar? You okay?”} Monarch asks. {“Your mind is racing.”}

  {“Did I… Pass out? Just now?”} Welnar responds with his own question.

  {“No, you… Didn’t. It didn’t seem like it at least.”} She says. Welnar sighs… Something weird is going on.

  “What’s your name?” Welnar finally asks the Monk.

  “Oh, yes. I suppose we’re long overdue for proper introductions… My name is Charles Seloo.” The Monk says.

  “I’m Welnar, Welnar Bismorg.”

  “Well, glad we meet once more Welnar… Even if the circumstances were rather dire. Now, how about we get some food in you? Can you walk?” Charles asks with a smile.

  Slowly, Welnar sits up in bed… “Yeah, I think so… You can go on ahead, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Charles nods, getting up and walking to the door. “Take your time.” He says, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. With a bit of struggling, Welnar does manage to get onto his feet… And now he can finally get a good look at himself. Seems they bandaged him up all over, although at this point he isn’t bleeding anymore. Welnar tries to stretch, but he doesn’t get very far before the pain overwhelms him. Then he feels his stomach growl… Yeah he definitely could use something to eat. Welnar decides to put the soul down on the table beside his bed for now, seeing as nobody else can see it… No chance it’ll get stolen.

  There is still one question that burns in Welnar’s mind, though. What happened back there, when Charles tried to tell him something? Something about a lady… Who?

  {“Monarch, what did Charles say about that lady?”} He asks.

  {“What? You weren’t listening? And what do you mean that lady-”}

  {“Just entertain the idea.”} Welnar pleads. With a bit of confusion, Monarch relents.

  {“Okay… Well he was talking about ██████████”} Welnar feels a sudden, overwhelming headache come on. What… Did she just say..?

  {“Welnar? Welnar are you alright?”} Monarch asks, sounding worried. The headache begins to subside.

  {“I’m… I’m fine. Whatever you and Charles are trying to tell me, I… It's like my brain refuses to process it, or something.”} Welnar explains. He isn’t entirely sure if that’s the case, but it would make sense. He hears a quiet gasp from Monarch.

  {“Welnar, what do you remember from your fight with the Collector?”}

  Welnar recalls the battle as best he can… But now that he’s more awake and alert, he can tell that his memories are fragmented… He was fighting, but… Was he alone? Yes… Wait, no! But… Who was he with? No matter how hard Welnar tries, he can’t recall them. He just feels a vague sense of… Loss.

  “Make them pay.” Welnar hears those words echo in his mind once more. Why does he remember them so vividly? Where did he hear them, and… Why do they invoke such a strong motivation in him?

  {“Welnar, Let's just get you something to eat. We’ll worry about this later.”} Monarch says. She has an educated guess as to what’s happening to Welnar, and the thought… Deeply concerns her.

  {“If you say so Monarch.”}