ARCADES

Steady horse steps echoed along the dusty trail as Kalamari and Tozi made their way toward Thruans.

It was a two-day journey.

Kalamari, so focused on the road ahead, almost forgot he wasn't alone. Lost in thought, he barely noticed the shifting skies or the rhythmic gait of the horses beneath them.

Tozi, clearly bored, decided to spark a conversation.

"So, uhmm… where were you after the war?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Kalamari looked up as if pulled from a deep memory, his gaze distant.

"Well," he said slowly, "I happened to be in the Spirit Realm. With the other Overlords."

He paused, then added, "Well, my body was on Earth."

Tozi raised a brow, intrigued.

"You know, during the war, I think I fought alongside the Masters of the Arcades."

Tozi laughed in disbelief. "No way! I thought you were F-rank back then."

Kalamari chuckled. "As funny as it sounds… that same F-rank kid landed a hit on Lord Veth during the war."

Tozi's laughter faded into stunned silence. Despite his doubts, part of him believed it—he had faced Kalamari in combat once and knew the strength the man carried.

"Damn," Tozi said, shaking his head. "So tell me… did you look into his eyes and make him fear you?"

Kalamari tried to hold back his laughter.

"No," he said, grinning. "I ran immediately."

They both burst into laughter at Kalamari's blunt honesty.

After the moment passed, Kalamari grew quiet again. His tone shifted.

"Well… on my way out, running for my dear life, I knew most of the warriors would come after me. So I just kept going. Never looked back."

He paused.

"There was this one moment I'll never forget… I had to choose—either I jump or I surrender."

Tozi leaned in, eyes wide with anticipation.

"How high?" he asked.

Kalamari turned to him, face suddenly serious.

"So fucking high," he said, eyes intense, "that if anyone landed, their body would've shattered to pieces."

Tozi jerked his head back, both startled and irritated. "Wooo! Was it really that high?"

Kalamari dropped the act, laughing.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding. Honestly… I don't even know. But it was high enough to knock me out for years."

Tozi nodded slowly, still trying to decide if he was being messed with.

Kalamari continued, his voice calm again.

"The reason I was out for so long was simple—my soul had already left for the Spirit Realm."

"And in order for me to return, I had to train there, in spirit. But if my body had been awakened by someone on Earth before I was done… I'd have had to finish my training here."

"Fortunately, I'd already mastered my training in the Spirit Realm. So once I woke up, I just needed to spend a little time blending that training back into my physical self."

Tozi looked over, clearly impressed, but said nothing.

The road ahead was still long—but now it felt a little lighter, the silence filled with memories, laughter, and a little awe.

---Kalamari looked down, his expression shadowed with distress.

Tozi noticed the change. "Why the long face, Kalamari?"

Kalamari's voice was low and full of memory. "I remember Master Olark like it was yesterday. I failed him once… I won't fail him again."

Tozi's face softened with shared grief. "I miss my master too. The last time I saw her was when I gave my last bow before heading to Whoops for training."

He smiled faintly. "Master Nina. She was the second A-rank in the Arcades. Remember her?"

Kalamari suddenly pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a halt. He stared at Tozi, wide-eyed.

"Wait… you mean Master Nina was your master?"

Tozi chuckled, not understanding the reaction. "Yeah. She was my master—I was one of the E-ranks she trained."

Kalamari blinked in disbelief. "Wow… that's wild. Master Nina is my mother."

"I don't usually call her by name, but I'm surprised she trained you—as an E-rank."

Tozi grinned. "She's your mom? That's really cool. No offense, but… she's really hot."

Kalamari raised a brow.

Tozi continued, chuckling nervously. "But you don't really fight like her."

Kalamari narrowed his eyes. "Bro… she died before I even turned E-rank. How do you expect me to fight like her if I didn't get any of her training?"

Tozi's smile faded, clearly embarrassed. "Don't mind my clumsiness," he muttered.

Kalamari shook his head with a sigh.

The two continued riding until the sun dipped beneath the hills. Nightfall crept in, and the sky glittered with stars. Soon, they found a quiet spot off the trail to rest. They lit a small fire for warmth and shared a meal of bon luzania. Around the crackling flames, they laughed and talked long into the night, reminiscing about their good times and bad.

Eventually, sleep came.

---

Morning

"Kalamari! Tozi! Brother—wake up! We've got company!"

Tozi shot up as Kalamari shook him awake. His fists clenched instinctively, scanning the surroundings.

They were surrounded.

A circle of armed bandits closed in on them, wild and ragged men with cruel eyes and skull like tattoos on their bodies. These weren't just thieves—they were outcasts, feared across the kingdoms. They thrived on fear, taking what they pleased, doing terrible things just for the thrill of it.

The bandit leader sat on a tall black horse, towering above the two warriors with a smug expression.

"Two travelers, huh?" the man said, voice cold and amused. "Your names aren't important. But your food, your clothes, and your horses… those are very, very important."

One of the bandits held up a heavy money pouch, grinning.

"Boss, look at this! They got so much coin, it's like they robbed a king's wallet!" He chuckled darkly. "Heh heh heh…"

The bandit leader grinned wider. "Well then. Because of that little bonus, I guess we'll spare your lives. Take their stuff, and let's keep moving."

The bandits began to move in—but Kalamari raised his voice, sharp and commanding.

"You're not leaving here with any of our things."

He stepped forward, eyes hard as steel. "Drop whatever you've taken, and we'll spare your lives."

The flames of the dying campfire flickered in his eyes as he frowned, unmoving.

For a moment, everything fell silent.

Then—

"Ha ha ha ha ha!"

Laughter erupted from the bandits, loud and mocking, echoing through the trees. Not one of them realized who they were dealing with.

The bandit leader chuckled along, barely able to speak through his laughter. "You will spare us?" he scoffed. "Tell me he's kidding. He can't be serious."

But when he looked at Kalamari's face and saw the unshaken resolve in his eyes, the laughter died.

"Alright," the leader said, his voice cold now. "Enough with the chuckles… Yakima. Kill them both."

Yakima grinned as he stepped forward, pulling out a tiny curved blade. He didn't get far.

Before Yakima could take his fifth step, Kalamari vanished.

In a blur of motion, Kalamari reappeared in front of him—fist crashing straight through Yakima's skull with terrifying force. Bone shattered, blood exploded into the air, and Yakima's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

The desert went deathly still.

Kalamari stood over the corpse, his blood-soaked hand still clenched. He gave a deadly smile, then slowly licked the blood from his knuckles.

"Twenty-seven lost bandits," he said, his voice dark and steady, "looking for someone to rob and kill... ended up meeting the man who'll end their lives—without breaking a sweat."

The remaining bandits stared in horror. Some stumbled backward, eyes wide, hands trembling.

The leader's gaze darted across the circle. He saw the fear creeping into his men's faces—and felt it curl around his own heart like a snake.

Kalamari took a step forward.

"You were given a chance to live," he said coldly. "But you laughed—as if you were immortals."

He scanned their terrified faces.

"Twenty-seven of you. No—twenty-six now. You were just passing through, you said. Decided to take what was ours. And now, since you insist... we won't go down without a fight."

"Twenty-six against two?" He smiled darkly. "Let's even the odds."

Some of the bandits began shaking their heads, their courage fading fast. They didn't want to die. They weren't ready.

But a few—arrogant and hardened by rank and power—still stepped forward, weapons drawn. They believed strength alone could save them.

At that moment, the shadows shifted.

From Kalamari's shadow, a dark figure emerged—Nylok, his silent companion of death.

From Tozi's body, a swirling presence detached itself, taking form—Void, his inner spirit of chaos.

Gasps rippled through the bandits.

A woman near the edge of the circle whispered, voice trembling, "Who... who are you?"

Kalamari turned to her, raising one eyebrow, his face grave.

"Like he said," he replied, voice sharp as steel. "It's not important."

---

Watch out for Chapter 9 — as Kalamari unleashes chaos on the bandits in an epic battle that will decide who survives... and who doesn't.