Pride.
It was an emotion felt by all. Every sentient being, no matter their race or origin, carried it in so form, be it quiet self worth or inflated ego.
So pride ca from simple dignity, the unwillingness to be cheated or disrespected. Other tis, it stemd from a belief of superiority, a conviction that one stood above all others.
But pride, like any emotion, could be broken.
And when broken, it gave birth to sothing else, dread, sha, fear.
Yet, to shatter pride, one had to be willing to get their hands dirty.
Most balked at that.
But Atticus had no such qualms.
Carius's hand trembled as he pushed himself off the ground. The truth was now clear, he knew exactly what Atticus was trying to do.
"You're wasting your ti—"
But Atticus vanished again.
CRACK!
Another open handed slap exploded across his face, sending him tumbling once more. Dust erupted with each crash, stone shattered beneath his weight.
Blood and spit spilled from his mouth as he coughed and turned his head, breathing ragged.
Then he looked up and saw those eyes.
Cold. Detached. Disdainful.
The way Atticus stared at him, it wasn't with hate. It wasn't even with anger.
It was apathy.
As if he wasn't even worth a sword. As if he was beneath notice.
Carius gritted his teeth.
"I'll gouge out those eyes," he growled, staggering to rise again.
But before he could even find his footing;
CRACK!
Another slap. Another detonation. Another violent tumble across the field.
This ti, his vision blurred. He shook his head, trying to clear it. But Atticus still walked toward him. Still silent. Still looking down on him.
'Those infuriating eyes…'
Carius's fist clenched harder. Rage surged through his entire being. He tried to rise again;
WHAM!
Another open palm crashed into his face, hurling him through the air again.
"Ugh!" he groaned, landing on the earth. His cheek throbbed, and as he reached for it, he saw it was now grotesquely swollen.
Still, he forced himself up, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.
Atticus was approaching. Still silent.
Suddenly, Carius chuckled before he laughed, broken, wild. His swollen lips turned in a crooked smirk.
"You think you can humiliate ?" he rasped, the words sounding weird due to his battered mouth.
"I am Carius! I've turned civilizations to dust! Slaughtered millions! Entire nations kneel before !"
He pushed himself upward, wobbling.
"I am—"
CRACK!
Another slap thundered across his face, cutting off his words mid sentence, sending him crashing to the earth once more.
This ti, the world fell silent.
Eletantron's eyes were glued to the scene, his jaw clenched, knuckles cracked beneath the pressure of his grip.
Atticus's ssage rang loud and clear.
Carius wasn't the only one being humiliated.
He was the Dinsari Apex. Their pride. Their sword. Their symbol of supremacy.
And now he was being reduced to trash.
It wasn't just Carius being shad, it was the entire Dinsari race.
The space around them warped violently, clouds thickening as killing intent bled into the heavens.
Teeth clenched. Hearts pounded. Rage simred beneath their skins.
And yet… they watched.
They could only watch.
They watched as their Apex struggled to stand.
Carius groaned, his body slumped against the earth. His breath ca in shallow, ragged gasps, eyes blurry and unfocused. His limbs trembled, his face numb from the repeated impacts.
His body twitched and he forced his head up, gritting his teeth.
And then he saw it.
Felt it.
The eyes.
Countless eyes.
Millions. Watching him. Judging him. Pitying him.
They burned even more than the slaps.
They scorched deeper than any wound he could ever get.
Carius hated them. He hated them with his entire being.
Those wretched, condescending eyes, like they were better than him.
'Who the hell do you think you are…'
His mind roared, enraged. Then his voice erupted, not at anyone in particular, but as though he was talking to the world itself:
"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! You think you're better than ?! I AM—"
"Who… who the hell do you think you are…"
His voice was trembling now, broken. And to many, pathetic.
CRACK!
Another slap detonated across his face like a teor strike, silencing him once more. His body twisted mid air before crashing into the dirt again.
Groaning, Carius clawed at the ground, fingers digging into the soil as he dragged himself forward.
"Who… who the hell do you think you are…"
His voice was trembling now, broken. And to many, pathetic.
"I… I am Carius… I'm better than all of you…"
All races, all eyes, everyone watched the scene in dead silence.
Then, Carius heard footsteps coming from the side. Before he could even turn;
WHAM!
A foot collided with his face, launching him across the field once again.
His body twisted through the air like a broken doll before crashing to a stop.
This ti… he couldn't move.
His arms were heavy, and pain radiated from every inch of his body. His bones scread, his muscles gave out.
'How did it co to this…'
He thought, staring up at the sky through blurred vision.
'I made plans… layers upon layers of plans. It should have worked. I should've won…'
'But I failed again… just like back then…'
His mind drifted to his past.
He had always been a planner. A tactician. He crafted contingencies, foresaw traps, moved pieces like he was a god above n.
But in his past life, an oversight had cost him everything. A loved one had betrayed him and he had died filled with regrets.
And this ti, when he had been reincarnated, he abandoned his every emotion. Forsook his family. And most importantly, trusted no one.
Only himself.
And yet… he still failed.
'How?'
His mind scread.
'How did I fail?' He didn't understand it. He couldn't understand.
Slowly and painfully, Carius turned onto his back.
His gaze landed on Atticus, approaching in silence. Even until now, he hadn't spoken a single word.
Carius's eyes widened. Then… he chuckled.
Blood spilled from his lips as the laugh escaped, raspy and faint.
"It's you…" he muttered.
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