The Wheel Of Samsara - 42 Lines that Can’t be Crossed II

Nemeus was using his divine sense to probe Amon Kressler as he slowly left the platform and walked to the waiting hall. In the dark red space, his scarlet eyes shone with a sanguine light as he focused his perception on the ring the boy wore in his finger.

Nemeus was long past the point of simply sensing Qi with his divine sense. When the towering man wanted, the world presented itself to him through gold and black. There was no matter, there was only the Divine Language.

Everything he saw was combinations of the godly runes. The way the air flowed from the lungs of a cheering spectator, the light quaking of the ground as the crowd jumped on their seats, the blue of the sky. Everything was the Divine Language. Everything was nothing more than an array formation.

Even the people themselves, they were billions of complex formulas that broke apart and recombined thousands of times per second. Arthur had told Nemeus once that maybe if one went deep enough, one would be able to peer into the thoughts of the people they target their divine sense at and read them like an open book. Maybe even peer at the makings of the soul was possible.

As such, Nemeus had no real difficulty to look past Lya’s illusion, seeing the true form of the ring in Amon’s finger. He narrowed his eyes and his mane-like fiery hair seemed to stand on end as he sent an enraged bellow.

“LYA!”

He called, transmitting his voice to the ring. His deep voice seemed more like the howling of a beast than the shout a human could give. Still what answered Nemeus was silence. His scarlet eyes were bloodshot as, like a beast, he started to growl and the muscles in his body bulged.

“LYA!”

The dark-red space started trembling as if it was going to shatter when Nemeus howled her name again. His deep voice echoed through the space for a long time, more and more distorted as it slowly faded away into silence yet again.

Nemeus took a deep breath, calming himself. His rage was mostly gone, but the savage look in his eyes remained. A cold expression was all his face showed as he said in a soft, but chilling voice, “Ignore me if you want. I’ll make you show yourself.”

Then, he closed his eyes, as if focusing. He would make sure to be discrete as he sent her a message that no one else noticed. He opened his eyes and his gaze fell on the shiny box lying on the table as a bloodthirsty smile made its way into his lip, making him reveal a sharp row of fangs. For all intents and purposes, Nemeus was a beast enjoying the thrill of the hunt.

“Eh?” Amon suddenly shuddered as his ashen hair stood on end. He stopped on his tracks as he walked to the waiting hall. He had a bad feeling. He turned his eyes to the green cabin where the important guests were watching the competition, but the feeling soon faded away.

Somehow, the finger he had the interspatial ring on started to itch and the ring seemed somewhat hot, but it only lasted for a moment. In the blink of an eye, it was as if the feeling was never there. Amon was confused as he started walking again, picking up his pace.

“Lya?” He asked in a low voice as he crossed the golden gates. To his surprise, Lya didn’t answer. Amon’s expression turned serious as he looked at the ring in his fingers.

“Is everything okay?” Amon asked in a worried tone, a bit agitated.

“Yes, don’t worry.” Lya’s voice echoed in his mind calming him down a bit. Nevertheless, he could feel something strange with her. “Just… be careful in the next fight.”

Amon gave a slight nod, but worry seethed deep within his mind.

He got into the waiting hall, where the same woman of the last day was waiting for him. She gave him a polite bow and gestured him to come with her. Amon quietly followed her to a room in the Medical Center.

“We will call you when the next phase starts.” The woman said, bowing again and leaving.

Amon jumped on the bed and closed his golden eyes. He started replaying the fight with the red-haired youth in his mind. Maybe there was an easier way to get things done. As he thought about the fight he couldn’t help but remember Erin. He was certain Erin was as arrogant as that youth, even if weaker.

Amon’s hands started trembling without him noticing. He somehow felt excited as he remembered the look in Erin’s eyes when he threatened him. Deep down, hiding in that coldness, Amon was sure he saw a shred of hesitation. Erin was apprehensive.

“I sure hope we face each other.” Amon mumbled to himself. The room was dark, as Amon hadn’t lit the lamps on it. Because of that, it was impossible to see the savage smile he had on his face.

—

‘Knock! Knock!’

Amon jumped from the bed as soon as he heard the knocking on his door. He opened it swiftly, being greeted by the same woman as always. He gave her a nod and promptly left for the waiting hall.

It had been nothing but a couple of hours since his fight had ended. It looked like none of the winners had any serious injury, so the break after the fights were done was somewhat short.

The other fifteen competitors were already waiting in the hall. Amon couldn’t hide his eagerness as he saw Erin between them. They locked eyes, exchanging cold looks. Erin couldn’t hide the displeasure on his face as he glanced at Amon.

The Third Elder appeared again, his voice as calm as ever as he instructed them. “Please, line up again. We will draw lots a second time.”

“The eight winners in the next fights will be guaranteed entrance to the Inner Sect. Tomorrow they will compete for extra prizes from the sect. The loosing eight will also compete tomorrow for the remaining two slots of promotion.” The Third Elder sent them a long and piercing glance as he looked at each competitor in the eyes.

“I wish you all good luck.” He said as he gave a gentle smile, making his wrinkled face seem even older. Nevertheless, his eyes were as energetic as ever.

As they lined up again, Amon couldn’t help but stare at man the clad in black a few spot ahead of him in the line. He was almost sure the man was Daniel, even if he hadn’t seem his face. He turned insecure as a multitude of possibilities made their way into his mind to justify him avoiding Amon.

Amon couldn’t help but turn a bit sad. He grew hesitant as he tried to call Daniel’s name. At that moment, the man turned to him, his face still covered by the hood. The chilling aura he exuded made Amon even more uncertain, but he steeled himself.

As he was about to call Daniel, the man put a finger in front of his face, signaling Amon to keep quiet. Amon was dumbstruck, and in his moment of confusion, the line started moving. He was in a daze as the line moved, following it without even noticing his surroundings.

The Third Elder announced something to the crowd, but Amon didn’t hear what it was. He simply looked at that back clad in black with a blank look in face.

He started having a bad feeling again, as if something bad was about to happen. He looked at the green cabin again, and the worry he had before started resurfacing. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He close his eyes and shook his head, clearing his mind.

He had to focus. He had to win. He needed to get in the top ten, or at least leave a impression great enough in one of the Elders to turn into a disciple. He closed his fist tightly as the competitor started to touch the box and their numbers started to shine.

Erin was one of the firsts in the line. When it was his turn, he walked with firm steps to the box, and grabbed it firmly. The golden light shone on him like a beacon, and his red clothes seemed to be set ablaze as a huge number 4 was projected above him.

After Erin, was the man in black. Like a few hour before, he seemed to slide to the box, touching it with his left hand. He got a number 1, so he would be the first to fight. As he saw that Amon’s senses seemed to explode.

“What the hell is happening?” He thought, lost in confusion. Why was he having such a bad premonition?

“I need to take the number 4.” He started mumbling to himself nonstop, trying to calm down and put his worries aside. It soon was his turn. As he walked to the box, he couldn’t help but cast a glance to the man in black that was sitting in one of the cushioned seats.

Time seemed to slow down as Amon looked at that golden box. He extended his fingers to it, during what seemed like an eternity. He felt the coldness of the box as he grabbed it, looking at how the light shone through his fingers, falling on his face.

Then, the box flashed once, and Amon looked in shock to the number above him.

“BASTARD!” He heard Lya screaming with all her power inside his mind. Her voice was somewhat desperate, somewhat regretful, as if she realized she made a mistake. Still, to Amon it felt as if it was nothing but a distant sound, an echo brought by the wind from a far away place.

Nothing seemed to affect him, because Amon had lost the capacity to think as he looked at number floating above his head.

A huge number 1 was project in the air, deciding his opponent in his next fight.