I am the Only Son of Nyx

It was silent inside the room save for the soft prickling sound of water.

A cloth emerged from the bucket, heavy and dripping, and rose into the bright light before it pressed against the nape. The hand holding it squeezed firmly—and the water bled from the cloth and ran in thin, glistening rivulets down the landscape of a wide back.

Each droplet traced the ridges of muscle and valleys of ruined skin.

And then, it dripped soundlessly onto the floor.

Kai’s back was a ruinous battlefield.

Lacerations crisscrossed the flesh like the aftermath of some brutal campaign.

Some were long, straight lines that ran from the top of his shoulders to the base of his spine.

Some were shallow and already began to scab, and others were deep enough to show the pale suggestion of bone beneath the torn meat.

Bruises bloomed in every shade of purple and black, clustered along his ribs and spine, and a few carried a faint, sickly smear of green—old blood trapped beneath the skin, still waiting to be reabsorbed.

Kai’s hand pressed hard against the wall.

His fingers turned white as a groan escaped him heavily—forced through clenched teeth.

Just the wet, gentle touch from the water stung—and seeped into his bones. It was a grinding burn of wounds that had been pressed and chafed and kept open for hours beyond their time limits.

He hissed and rode the wave of pain until it ebbed.

Once the cloth dried, he submerged it into the bucket on the table beside him, soaked it—and then pressed it against his nape again. The battle against Barbara had been entirely one-sided; that much was clear.

Kai had blocked and dodged her attacks and read her movements almost flawlessly.

He used his Ending Fragments, which required no mana, only stamina, only the will to keep moving in order to earn that flawless victory. But the wounds on his back—had been opened the entire time.

And the combat suit was tight, a second skin with no room for his skin to breathe.

Naturally, it was really bad for his lacerations.

Each movement scraped the harsh fabric over the wounds like sandpaper against raw flesh—grinding them deeper and keeping them wet and angry. Kai had endured the uncomfortable pain until the battle ended, then slipped away the moment the second round was over.

He can’t keep enduring the pain for much longer.

It was the reason why he rushed out of sight.

Keeping a strong front is certainly most important right now—as it would put pressure on his enemies and make them wary. He could use their wariness to his advantage, so he was firm on maintaining an air of invincibility.

And honestly, he was surprised that he had lasted as long as he did.

Now, he had already peeled the combat suit down to his hips, baring his torso, and the relief that washed over him was almost overwhelming. But there was no time to savour it. Kai still needed to deal with the lacerations before the final round began.

It was the determining fight—him against Chester.

Kai knew that Chester would make even more preparations for the final round after watching how Barbara was defeated rather easily, so he needed to be in top condition. Fortunately—he found the healing cream.

He cleaned what he could, and then reached for a dry cloth on the table.

Fearing what he might do after he became the Red Prince, the grey-masked Angel decided to bring him what he needed. Of course, it would be better if he brought a healing vial rather than only using the healing cream, but that would be asking for too much.

Kai took a break and tossed the dry cloth onto the wooden table.

He then stared into the stone wall, but he saw more than only stone.

Flashes of what happened earlier.

His mind replayed the instant before his final punch shattered Barbara’s mask. It was a vicious punch, but the force was too much. Even though he expected to hurt Barbara with that punch, the impact was beyond his expectations.

And then, his gaze drifted to his own mask resting on the table to his side.

Since the stadium had been prepared for the tournament, the indoors were filled with oxygen.

So, he had removed it earlier.

Now it sat there on the table, waiting like a second face he had set aside.

Having a mask pressed on his face all the time was not comfortable at all.

Every student would take their masks off whenever they had the time, and that includes Kai.

Kai reached for the mask and brushed his thumb against it, feeling the material, checking if it was different than his normal mask. And as he expected, it was different. "It’s certainly made from a different material."

He knocked it with his knuckles a couple of times, and the sound it made was heavy.

"A way stronger material."

Then, his eyes naturally shifted to his right hand.

On the second day of being tortured, around the start of the night—Kai managed to replicate a portion of the roots that Asher and his squad had inside their bodies. Not a perfect replica, but enough to make a difference.

Now, there are roots spreading from his main Primordial Lock towards his right arm.

Kai was expecting a change, but he didn’t feel much from it.

But the fact that his punch shattered Barbara’s mask instantly must be because of this.

He has no doubt about it.

"I’m confused..." Kai clenched his right fist, opened it, and repeated. He was trying to feel the power in it. "My strength stat didn’t change at all, but my punch was certainly stronger. Hm, I wonder why that is."

Kai shook his head and averted his attention away.

One last time, he patted the lacerations—with the cloth to make sure they were dry, and then grabbed the healing cream. He opened the lid and blew it out of his mouth, bracing himself for the pain.

Deciding not to hesitate anymore, Kai scooped the cream with four fingers and then applied it onto his back.

"Arghk!"

Brak—!

Kai recoiled from the pain, knocking the table with his knees.

He pressed his forehead against the cold stone—and slammed his forearm against the wall as the healing cream seared into his wounds. It should not have hurt this much. But Hensen had coated his back with something before the whipping.

Something that made every lash, and every touch after, feel like fire.

Now, added to the healing cream, it must’ve created a reaction that scorched his nerves.

Just then, Kai heard the door creak open.

He turned his head halfway over his shoulder. "What is it now? I’m not done yet."

Of course—he had expected it to be the grey-masked Angel who was right outside the room. No one else should’ve been in this area. But when he received no answer whatsoever, a frown settled on his face.

He turned fully and found himself facing two familiar faces instead.

Bree and Matilda.

Both stood by the door, staring at him with clear shock on their faces.

Kai looked behind them and saw the grey-masked Angel was still right outside—but he made no move to stop these two. Regardless, these two shouldn’t be able to enter this area, as there are many eyes watching.

On the other hand, Bree and Matilda stared at Kai’s ruined back.

Considering how Kai performed earlier, they were hopeful that his condition was not bad.

No—they were quite certain that the torture hadn’t been that bad.

Perhaps only his mana was drained completely to lower his chance of winning, but that was not the case at all. Kai performed extremely well in the second round while enduring the pain on his back.

And that realization shot a shiver down their spines.

Even though they were aware that Kai was being tortured somewhere in the garden, hidden and out of sight, knowing was not the same as seeing. Dorian had told them that Kai was whipped by High Angel Hensen.

And at most, the whips would only leave behind bleeding marks.

But now, calling these lacerations bleeding marks didn’t seem to do them any justice.

The two even saw one that almost reached the bone.

Frankly, it was surprising that Kai could still fight as he did earlier with these wounds.

Both of them were quite certain that had they been in Kai’s position, laced with brutal wounds on their entire backs, they wouldn’t be able to endure the pain, wouldn’t be able to stand, much less participate in the tournament.

"What are you doing here?" Kai asked, already turned to face them.

His voice was flat and cold, making it clear that they weren’t welcome right now.

"Kai..." Bree rasped, and then pointed at his back. "Your back... Let me help you."

"It’s nothing." He waved his hand dismissively—putting on the persona of invincibility once again, even in front of these two. "You’ll only get into trouble by coming here. Go back to your seats and wait for the final round."

Even without him needing to say it out loud, it was clear that Kai was still angry.

He was still blaming himself for what happened to Abigail and Talitha.

Both got in the crossfire.

"It’s not your fault," Bree said softly. She could see it now—the reason Kai could fight like this despite his wounds was because of his anger for what happened to those two sisters. "Abigail and Talitha made their own cho—"

"Stop." Kai raised his hand. "It’s not the time to talk about them."

Even the thought of those two made something hot coil in his chest. He had searched for them earlier when he had first stepped into the arena, but then he’d stopped himself. He didn’t want to know. Not yet. Knowing would only negatively impact his mind.

Just save that for later.

Right now, all he needed to do was to win the tournament.

Carefully, Bree tried to approach, but stopped before taking her second step.

She stopped when Kai’s eyes narrowed.

"Don’t come near me," Kai warned. "Just stay there if you have something to say."

Bree was at a loss for words.

All she wanted to do right now was to help him. To hug him. To be his comfort.

It didn’t matter how little it made a difference, as she would be happy even with the slightest.

But Kai didn’t allow her to do that.

’His focus was solely on the tournament,’ Matilda thought inside. She could see that Kai was being like this, not wanting any comfort, soft words, or gentle touches because he didn’t want distractions. Didn’t want his fire to be weakened by Bree, or her. ’He’s... He’s drowning in bloodlust.’