Dande smiles, stopping just at the entrance to the tower.
Myles stops behind him, confusion flickering across his face. Dande turns to him with an unusually serious expression. "I know you have your doubts about my methods," he says, pulling off his strange-looking top and tossing it aside.
The movement reveals a toned body layered with markings Myles can only describe as tribal or warrior tattoos. Dark patterns twisted across Dande's skin like living scripture, some sharp and deliberate, others flowing like rivers carved into stone. For a brief moment, an image of one of his aunties flashes through Myles' mind. The memory vanishes almost instantly.
"But," Dande continues, flexing his fingers as though warming them for battle, "they have proven rather effective."
A deafening bang erupts behind Myles.
The air itself trembles.
Then a voice rings out, thunderous yet melodic.
"Today is the day I mark you, Yevthe."
It is a woman's voice, overflowing with passion and fierce determination. The force behind it makes Myles instinctively turn.
And then he sees her.
For a second, his thoughts simply stop.
Her eyes were sharp as twin blades, bright with challenge and excitement. Her lips stretched into a grin so wide it bordered on savage, full and stained a deep, royal purple. Her hair seemed almost unreal, made of some dense, textured material that gave it volume and softness while still carrying the same solid, root-like quality as Dande's family.
His gaze drifts lower before he can stop himself.
Her abdominals pull his attention immediately, defined with brutal precision beneath dark blue skin that seemed to glow beneath the sunlight. Though thinner and unmistakably feminine in shape, her presence somehow felt even more intimidating than Sebbeh's, though still slightly beneath Dande's monstrous aura. She stood at least eight feet tall, perhaps more.
Then Myles notices her clothing.
Cloth wrapped elegantly around her head, holding her thick hair high. More cloth bound itself around her full chest and impossibly narrow waist. The material hanging from her waist had been cut at the corners, allowing complete freedom of movement. Beads and bracelets decorated her left ankle, right wrist, and hips. The beads around her waist remained mostly hidden beneath the cloth, though the curve of her hips pressed them faintly against the fabric, making them just visible enough to catch the eye.
Dande's eyebrow twitches slightly as he notices Myles staring with his mouth very nearly open.
The boy had seemed more composed, more in control of himself. Perhaps he had judged him too quickly.
"Hmm. Kushi," Dande says casually, though amusement lingers in his tone, "I was beginning to wonder whether you had finally given up."
Kushi chuckles deeply. "Master, do you know why I insist on wearing these cloths?"
Dande smiles faintly. "Tell me again."
"My pride," she says without hesitation. "The pride of my lineage, my heritage, and your teachings."
She steps forward.
The invisible field surrounding the tower parts for her without resistance.
Then, in the distance, a horn blows.
Long.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Slowly, the loud roars of battle begin to dwindle. The chaos fades into murmurs as a massive crowd approaches the tower from every direction. People of all shapes and sizes emerge, some towering like giants, others closer to Myles' height. Many are bruised and bloodied, armour cracked and skin torn open, while others appear untouched, not even a speck of dust staining their clothing.
One by one, they kneel before the tower.
The atmosphere shifts immediately.
Dande nods approvingly before walking past Kushi to address the gathering.
"Warriors. Citizens. Prisoners." His calm voice carries effortlessly across the enormous crowd. "I, Yevthe, have been challenged once again by a champion among you."
He turns slightly, placing a large hand upon Kushi's shoulder.
"Kushi. She claims she will mark me this time."
Parts of the crowd burst into laughter.
Others cheer wildly.
Some snarl with open hostility.
Kushi merely smiles. She bows subtly towards Dande before lifting her chin proudly.
"I will prove to you that age is merely what it is," she declares, her eyes burning with certainty. "A number."
A strange wave passes through Myles' mind.
Not quite emotion.
Not quite energy.
Something deeper.
His heart pounds unexpectedly as he stares at her. He cannot explain why, but her words strike something buried inside him, something restless and unresolved.
"I, Kushi, champion of Kungu," she announces, her voice booming across the open space, "will mark the Yevthe, bringer of Kungu!"
The crowd erupts into deafening cheers.
Then, just as suddenly, silence crashes down.
Myles looks towards Dande questioningly, expecting him to direct him somewhere safer to watch the fight. He glances beyond the barrier surrounding the tower, feeling a flicker of intimidation at the countless warriors gathered outside.
Still, determination hardens his expression.
He steps beyond the barrier, carefully moving over the unconscious body lying nearby.
The instant he exits the field, it hits him.
Criole pressure.
Overwhelming.
The combined presence of hundreds of seated warriors crashes into him like an invisible ocean trying to crush his bones into dust. The sheer density of power almost forces him to his knees.
Several warriors glance at him briefly before immediately losing interest.
Others stare longer.
Curious.
Testing.
Watching.
Myles exhales slowly.
Then he releases a controlled amount of his own criole, careful and measured, just enough to stabilise himself without drawing too much attention.
The effect is immediate.
The pressure lessens.
Not because the others withdrew, but because he finally withstands it properly.
His training had worked far better than he realised.
More warriors begin stealing glances at him now as he calmly walks forward and takes a seat amongst them.
Myles watches as the two stand opposite each other.
The atmosphere between them alone feels enough to split the earth apart.
Then Kushi releases her criole.
Myles' eyes widen immediately.
It is denser than anything he has ever felt before, so dense it almost feels physical, like an invisible ocean suddenly flooding the battlefield. Even the barrier surrounding the tower fails to contain it entirely, strands of pressure leaking through the invisible field like steam escaping a sealed furnace.
He is relieved to realise he is not the only one affected.
Many of the people sitting as close to the tower as he is suddenly turn pale. Some clutch their chests. Others grit their teeth as blood trickles from their noses. A few collapse onto one knee, struggling just to breathe beneath the weight of her presence.
And yet…
Pride quietly tugs at Myles.
He cannot fully explain how he knows, but most of the warriors gathered here had lived long enough to be called ancient. Their experience alone dwarfed his existence.
Still, he was handling this better than most of them.
At least better than most.
The thought barely settles before a sonic boom explodes through the arena.
Kushi vanishes.
Or rather, she moves so quickly that Myles' eyes fail to follow her properly.
Her fist shoots towards Dande with enough force to distort the air itself, but just before impact, it stops.
Frozen.
Held in place by some strange invisible force.
The crowd sighs in collective disappointment.
Myles blinks in confusion.
What happened?
Is it over already?
Why does everyone seem annoyed?
Before he can even form another thought, Kushi exhales sharply and pulls her arm back.
Instantly, her criole condenses even further.
The pressure multiplies violently.
Several spectators who had been enduring it without issue immediately stand and retreat further back. Even some seasoned warriors rise with grim expressions, clearly unwilling to remain so close any longer.
Those too slow to move collapse unconscious.
Bodies hit the ground one after another.
Soon, only Myles and a small handful of others remain near the front.
Myles barely notices.
His attention is completely consumed by Kushi.
By her control.
By her elegance.
By the terrifying beauty of the way she moved.
Every gesture carried overwhelming force while somehow remaining graceful, almost dance-like. The battlefield trembled beneath her feet, yet she looked effortless.
Lia crosses his mind more than once.
Guilt flickers briefly in his chest.
Still… this hardly counted, right?
In his mind, this was no different from a celebrity crush.
Kushi moves again.
Shockwave after shockwave erupts across the battlefield as her attacks rain towards Dande in relentless succession. The air cracks repeatedly, splitting apart beneath each strike.
Yet Dande does not move. Why would he, she had yet to touch him.
Not even once.
If anything, the smile on his face only grows wider.
Prouder.
Kushi's grin stretches further as she unleashes another bombardment of condensed criole.
At this point, the barrier may as well not exist.
The pressure floods everything.
Myles is exposed to the full force of it directly now.
Yet somehow…
He remains standing.
All around him, eyes slowly turn towards him in disbelief.
Warriors.
Citizens.
Prisoners.
Shock spreads through the crowd as they realise the young outsider still has not fallen.
It seems Myles' training had done far more than merely "help".
"Enough," Dande suddenly says.
His voice is low.
Calm.
Yet the moment it leaves his mouth, a bone-chilling aura spreads across the battlefield.
"Stop this children's game."
Kushi finally halts directly in front of him.
For the first time since the battle began, her face becomes completely expressionless.
Calm.
Focused.
Silent.
Then…
She smiles.
And suddenly, she does it.
Myles does not even fully understand what changes.
But he feels it.
Dande's grin shifts instantly into one of genuine fatherly pride.
The release that follows is catastrophic.
The resulting pressure detonates outward like a collapsing star, blasting everyone except Myles several metres backwards. Warriors dig trenches into the ground, trying to resist it, while others are thrown outright across the patchwork field.
Even Myles' training cannot carry him through this.
His vision shakes violently.
His ears ring.
Every muscle in his body screams as he fights to remain conscious.
He refuses to look away.
Even now, he desperately wants to witness this fight.
But unfortunately…
It is to no avail.