The tip of my spear will be the last thing my enemies will see before they leave this plane. All within the reach my blade will perish. Woe unto you who stands before me.

My spear will never fail to pierce its target for my aim is always true. My spear will parry all attacks that come. Nary a graze will blemish my skin.

I will show you why you will never reach me. But I will always reach you.

High Champion Spearmeister Celeres Hasta

7th Bearer of Martial Noble House Hasta

He did not know how long he was unconscious. He only had vague recollections of why he became unconscious.

BasketSlayer.

His last target. His first failure.

The demon spirit residing in his blade took over his being. He remembered that he lost. Lost the fight. Lost control of his body.

The demon spirit took complete possession of his body. Pitiful. Pathetic. A wretched mistake. He lost to his own weapon and failed to kill his target. He needed to rectify his mistake.

When he regained consciousness he still couldn’t move. He cannot open his eyes and had to rely on his ears to make sense of what was going on around him. His sensations were numbed and he could barely feel his body.

At the least, he could feel that he was floating in some kind of liquid. A regenerative solution. He could remember the sensation from a time that he was heavily injured. That meant he was in the city hospital.

He could hear parts of conversations between the healers attending to him, although his hearing was still fuzzy and there was a slight ringing sensation in his ears.

The demon possessing his body was exorcised by the BasketSlayer. The healers were chatting about it.

That name again.

Rage built up deep inside him. It was a different sensation from the one he normally feels. In the past, he thirsted for killing, for making his victims feel despair, letting them know that they were about to die. Now, it was a thirst for revenge.

He did not care about looking into the BasketSlayer’s eyes when he kills him. He just wanted to feel his flesh beneath his nails as he rips him apart.

Frustration added to his rage. Frustration that he was immobilized, that he was still weak.

The healers were talking about the military; they wanted to take him away for questioning. After he recuperated, his next destination would most likely be inside a dungeon. There would be heavy punishment for using a prohibited item and for harboring a demon spirit.

Matters regarding the killing of void children also shouldn’t be public knowledge. If he was questioned and his mind was probed, there was a large chance that this information would be leaked. The people do not know that void children are on rare occasions, born to normal parents.

He can’t have that. No. He needed to escape. He can’t kill the BasketSlayer if the military imprisons him.

The regenerative solution he was floating in worked wonders. High tier healing spells continuously bathed his body.

Yet, he did not move at all; he did not show any sign that his muscles have recovered, albeit only partially. He was trained in assassination techniques that included stealth; erasing one's trace, including signs of life. He slowed down his heartbeat and relaxed all the muscles in his body; the healers were puzzled, he should be recovering but it seemed that his body was atrophying.

He waited. He was patient. Never opening his eyes.

A few days passed.

The time was near. The body of a killer was nearly healed. The pursuit of the target that should have never escaped was about to begin.

Two healers were in the room with him. He could sense them. He smiled inwardly at the thought that he was about to begin his path of revenge.

They’re going to die first.

He never killed indiscriminately before. Killed without toying with his victims But now, he will kill anyone that stands in his way of revenge.

BasketSlayer must die.

While he was silently brooding all the deaths that he will cause, two thumps, like heavy sacks dropped on the ground.

What was that? Should he open his eyes?

“Yo!”

Loud footsteps walked away from the two healers. They’re knocked out, he assumed.

“Getting cozy in here, huh? Wow, these facilities are really top of the line! We didn’t have this stuff back then.”

This voice. It was familiar…

“It’s ‘bout time that you should be awake. I thought that I could visit you. Sorry, I didn’t bring flowers.”

He let out a small growl inside his breathing mask. Slowly, he flexed the muscles all over his body, his fingers clawed in anticipation. He was grinning beneath his mask.

There were several clangs and clinks as the person who entered the room tinkered with the various medical equipment inside, seemingly amazed at their designs.

“Woah… just look at all of these! I don’t even know what this thing does.” There was the sound of something being rattled vigorously. “Oh, I broke it. Grakk, Hey, don’t tell them that I broke this.” The rattling metal sounded again.

Why was this man here? A blessing from Paximillon, he thought. Such a fortunate occurrence. Now, he no longer needed to search the city for this man.

The footsteps drew near him. He began drawing in deep breaths, circulating the mana in his body in a rhythm. Come, nearer, he urged silently in his mind. Although his eyes were still closed, all his other senses were focused on the movements of his target.

BasketSlayer.

Many thanks to this man for coming willingly to die.

“Hey. Is this how you greet me? By pretending to be asleep?”

Sicarius opened his eyes, full of fury, he looked at the black robed men. His prey. His fists, tightly clenched, swung out towards the glass barrier of the vat. While his fists were in mid-swing, he cast several ability boosting spells simultaneously, turning his skin into a layer of black armor, imbuing his body with enough strength to tear apart steel like a piece of wet paper, and greatly increasing his speed.

BasketSlayer will not escape. Sicarius' mind was racing, formulating the onslaught of attacks that he would unleash upon his prey.

A jolt of electricity run across his body, fleetingly stunning him. He tried to move and reach for the sides of the vat, but he found out that he was once again paralyzed.

His bloodshot eyes darted to the man standing by a console at the foot of his container.

“You!” Sicaruis could barely get the words out of his mouth due to anger. “What did you do to me?!”

“Surprise! I’m surprised too,” the BasketSlayer said. “This control panel actually had a button to contain patients inside them. It’s probably for situations when the patients go on a rampage or something, just like what you were about to do!”

It was different from when he was recovering. His muscles then were still undergoing repair but now, it feelt as if he was hemmed in from all sides by skin-tight wall. He grunted as he strained against the enchantments stopping his movement.

The BasketSlayer had a slightly entertained look on his face as he watched the man inside the container struggle.

The vat was more than three meters tall and about a meter and a half in width. It was cylindrical in shape and floated in the center of the room. Directly above and below it were high tier healing seals that continuously casting spells. Besides the healing seals, there was a large glowing red seal, a containment spell.

The BasketSlayer tutted at Sicarius. “You shouldn’t break hospital equipment. Those are paid for by the taxes of the people. You should take care of public property. That’s what it means to be an upright citizen.” Then he added in hushed tones, “Don’t tell them I broke something here.”

“Do you think this containment spell will stop me?” Sicarius then roared through the glass with all his might, his anger rising from deep within his bowels.

“Of course, it will stop you. That’s powered by the mana node. And that’s a high-class containment spell, mind you. I think, in the past there were pretty bad incidents of patients going wild that they had to place that. Really nifty. For me.”

Sicarius continued straining with all his might, his body was covered with a red aura. The vat began to rattle and shake, the liquid inside started bubbling. “When I get out of here, I will make you wish that you were never born. I will pick your muscles from your bones, sinew by sinew. I will pluck out your eyes and feed them to you. I will kill you slowly, healing you and torturing you, again and again.”

“Aw, you wanted to kill me,” BasketSlayer said with a mocking expression on his face. “I wanted to let you out of there but since you just want to kill me then I think I won’t let you out anymore. I’ll turn up the energy of the containment spell since you don’t want to be friends.” He pushed buttons on the control panel while whistling a tune.

Veins began popping out of Sicarius’ head. “I’ll strangle you with your innards! I’ll skin you alive and bathe you with acid! I’ll cut wounds all over your body and pour maggots over you!”

“You’re a seriously sick man.” The BasketSlayer walked near the vat, stepping over the seals below it. He tapped on the glass separating him from the madman and sneered. “You expect to get out of this vat alive? I always feel sad when dashing people’s dreams but I have to give it to you straight. You will be dying inside there.”

“Release me! You will die by my hands!” Sicarius wasn’t listening to his intended prey anymore. His mind clouded with anger. He was so fixated on killing the man in front of him. Foam was starting to come out of his mouth.

The BasketSlayer just smiled while the madman raged on. He picked up something inside his basket and showed it to Sicarius. It was broken medical equipment. “What should I do with this? I was thinking of just taking it so no one will know I broke it. Or do I leave it here? I really don’t know how to fix this thing. I’m afraid the hospital staff will get angry at me. I can’t pay for this thing. I’m really poor and this looks really expensive.” He wiggled the thing before Sicarius.

“How dare you make fun of me! You’re nothing but my prey! I am the hunter and I kill my prey! I will not be denied of my rightful kill!” Sicaruis’ eyes glowed red. His mana lines were already visible running all over his body. The vat shook some more as the assassin gathered more and more of his power.

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot to ask. Who sent you? To kill me I mean. I’m so lovable that I’m surprised that someone wants to kill me.”

Sicarius answered him with a string of threats about the most heinous tortures that he could think of.

The BasketSlayer sighed and rolled his eyes. “I guess I’m not getting any straight answers from you. Five get out. I have something for you to do.”

“Yes, master.”

Sicarius stopped screaming as he heard the cacophony of voices answering his prey. He looked around for the source of the voices but he couldn’t find anyone else in the room besides his prey and the two unconscious healers.

He noticed something rising up the throat of the BasketSlayer.

The BasketSlayer grasped his mouth with his hands and opened it wide, black fumes were rising from his throat. He opened his mouth wider, unhinging his jaws and stretching his skin. More smoke came out, even black liquid started to rise.

Something was forming over the BasketSlayer, a floating black mass was squirming, pulsating.

Sicarius gaped, transfixed at the demon spirit that materialized before him. A horrific image of a half blown head.

What magic was this?

His prey had a demon spirit inside him.

It was all very clear.

This man was a heretic.

A heretic that should be cleansed! Paximillon had given him a mission! He’s destined to kill this man. Many void children died by Sicarius' hands, along with a few void mages that they were able to trap. He had done so much for the God Paximillon. He wasn’t unstable, insane, or a psychopath as the people around him called him.

A saint! He was a saint chosen by Paximillon to vanquish demon spirits.

He understands now. He understands why he takes great pleasure in killing his victims. They were heretics. What’s wrong with feeling joy when doing the work of God?

This man before him carries a demon spirit. There were probably more inside of him. It was Paximillon’s will that he should die.

“Master, the man is smiling,” Five said.

“Huh?” The BasketSlayer transformed his hand into feathered claws. “Don’t mind him. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” He reached out for the corrupted spirit with his draconic hand. Five wriggled between his ethereal claws as he slowly held it close to the glass of the vat. With a smile on his face, he pushed the demon spirit into the vat.

Sicarius tried to pull his outstretched fists that were near the edge of the vat. His face contorted as he realized what the BasketSlayer was doing. “No! Stop! Get that thing away from me!”

“Dammit, his head is far away, I can’t transform the rest of my arm into ethereal material.” Basketslayer pushed the demon spirit into the right fist of Sicarius. “Five, you’ll have to settle with this. Devour his soul starting from his arm.”

“I obey your command, master.” The half-head was slowly diving into Sicarius fists.

“There, I deposited you directly into his body. That makes your job easier. Don’t fail me.”

“Master, I will not fail you.”

BasketSlayer withdrew his hand from inside the vat. “I’m ordering you around. Guess that makes me your master for real.” He turned and walked around the room while his servant started his meal.

“Paximillon save your follower!” Sicarius prayed with his lungs. “Not again! I will not be possessed by a demon!”

“What do you mean by ‘not again’? You were possessed the last time. This time, your soul is being eaten. Corrupted spirits don’t normally immediately eat the host’s soul since the body will wither and die. You won’t be possessed if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sicarius closed his eyes and started steeling his mind as the demon spirit started nibbling the edges of his soul. He was destined to cleanse the world of heretics. This couldn't be happening to him. He refused to give up. Numerous heretics were waiting to die by his hands. He wouldn't accept the situation that he couldn’t do anything about his impending death.

The black armor covering his hand began to unravel, revealing his skin that was slowly rotting. An unseen force was slowly eating his arm, traveling to his shoulders, leaving behind a trail of dead flesh.

“Others will come after you! You heretic! You will die in the end! I will have my revenge!”

The BasketSlayer shrugged off the threats and stooped down to examine one of the unconscious healers. He poked the healer laying on the floor. “What will happen to them if I kill you? Will they get fired because their patient was killed while they were on duty? I hope not. I really don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

He stood up and looked at the convulsing assassin. “Five, make sure to search his mind for the location of the place where they hunt for the hiding void mages. Also search for the identity of the one who ordered me killed. Although I have a good guess as to who it is.”

Intense, blinding pain, like something that he had never before experienced in his life. His body was dying. Sicarius knew that he could do nothing about it. The demon was chewing on his soul, a quarter of his body was already consumed. This is the end for him. He gritted teeth then bit his tongue. He would not let this BasketSlayer have the satisfaction of hearing him scream in pain.

The BasketSlayer watched him with mild interest. “I wonder what will happen if I keep feeding Five the souls of strong people. Maybe he’ll grow a body or something, like the other demon spirits. Why the grakk is Five just a head?” His face suddenly lit up. He held up a finger and said, “That’s a nice idea for a project!”

Sicarius' organs were failing, eaten by the creeping decay. This was what his victims felt when they were about to die. Helpless. Certain death. He smiled while enjoying his memories of the dying moments of the people. He will not succumb to pain. He wouldnot surrender. He was determined not to end up like his victims.

This BasketSlayer would not see his eyes despairing. There's no way out. He has failed. But this BasketSlayer will die. The others will come for him. The church will not let this matter go. Others will kill this man for him. He will have revenge in the end.

The eyes of the BasketSlayer, full of hopelessness as he realizes that he has made a mistake in killing Sicarius, regretting making light of Sicarius. The eyes. Always the eyes. The shock his body was going through from being consumed by a demon spirit was numbing the pain. He contented himself imagining the dying moments of the BasketSlayer when the other assassins will catch him. Such a happy sight. Paximillon will not let him go unavenged. God will not let his loyal servant's killer go unpunished.

He began to laugh while coughing up blood.

The BasketSlayer began laughing as well. “Five, laugh with us as well. It would look awkward if he laughs alone. At least we’ll keep him company before he dies.”

An assassin who failed to kill his target, a basket carrying black-robed man, and a demon spirit with a score of voices laughed. Their mirth filled the room.

After a while, the assassin was no longer laughing.

"Seriously. What do I do with this broken thing?"

THWACK!

A body bounced off the inside of the purple shield covering the stage. The person was instantly teleported out of the ring.

The arena was showered with rays of light as the monster inside was fully healed, ready for the next challenger.

“What’s wrong Felix? You’re not enjoying this?”

Felix shook himself from his deep thought and turned to his sister. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking about…about the you-know-what.”

His sister pouted at him. “You said you’ll take me out to watch the beast-taming event. Then after this, we’ll watch the first round of the fight. This is no fun if you’re just thinking about that stuff. We should be cheering!”

“I’ll be cheering when the BasketSlayer comes!”

“Yeah! I’m going to cheer for him too!” Felixia’s face instantly brightened when her brother showed excitement.

“These armored sloths are boring to watch though. They’re the generic type of strong beast.”

“They’re not going to bring out the most powerful monsters until near the end of this event.”

“I know, I know,” Felix said. “But they’re not really doing anything. Just knocking people unconscious.”

The large expanse of the arena was divided into two parts. The smaller part was for the beast-taming competition while the larger was for the fighters of the tournament.

There were four large rings for the beasts. The rings were covered by a large conical purple shield, a more powerful shield than what was normally used in arena fights. Participants are teleported in and were teleported out when the judges determined that they have failed.

On the fighter’s side, four stages, a few times larger than the ones used in beast-taming, were being prepared. They were very wide, incorporating several terrains within each stage. That was why the fighter’s side of the main arena was still being organized by dozens of mages and engynares with their spiderlike constructs.

The four beasts featured on the taming side were all giant armored sloths. It was a high B rank due to its resilience and high defences. Its giant claws can rip an armor to shreds and it moves with unnatural speed for such a colossal beast.

Exceedingly muscular and covered by a hardened carapace that naturally gathers earth essences from the surroundings; the giant armored sloth has no natural predator while it roamed and fed off the foliage of trees. They were also able to use a crude variety of earth spells due to having abundant earth essences stored in their thick armor plating.

“What do you expect them to do? The magic that they use all comprise of defensive spells and buffing their armor,” Felixia said. “Aren’t they supposed to be fast? They’re just defending and swatting the people away when they get too close.”

“They are very fast, but they are quite lazy as well. It’s a surprise that they retained their speed while evolving into armored creatures.”

“Oh, so now you’re a biomagi?” Felixia was smirking at him. “Could you just focus on one field at a time?

“You just reminded me of what I was thinking about earlier.”

Felixia folded her arms and gave her brother an exasperated look. “Since we got that…that…you know what that is, you’ve been staying up late at night and just gluing your eyes to the data orbs.”

“I’m learning a lot from that…thing.”

“What? How are you doing that? I can’t even understand a part of it.”

“I’ll teach you next ti-”

“No!” Felixia stuck her tongue at him and folded her arms. “You’re getting too serious with that thing.”

“But it could potentially be a-”

She inflated her cheeks and looked at him.

Cheering exploded from the crowds. The siblings watched one ring with a giant armored sloth bound by ropes of light. Its long multijointed arms were stuck to its sides, rendering its deadly claws useless. Another set of glowing magical ropes materialized to bind its feet. It fell to the ground like a massive tree that was cut.

It snarled at the man floating over it. A mage with a lazy expression on his face. The crowds were cheering him on. It was obvious that the beast had no chance of winning against him. The mage turned to the people and waved at them, encouraging them to cheer louder for him.

Crunch!

The mage was sandwiched between the shield and a humongous boulder.

A flash of light and the mage was instantly teleported outside the ring. A collected “aw” of disappointment exhaled from the audience.

Felix placed his hand flat across his face. “That guy forgot that giant armored sloths can use other types of earth spells and not just defensive ones.”

Other participants from the three other rings also lost. A new set of participants were teleported in.

“Where was I,” Felix said. “Yes, I was talking about that design. I feel like there was something missing from it. I’m not sure. There are two parts present. One from the First Emperor and the other from Emperor Malvar. Yet, I feel that the design of the you-know-what was somehow lacking.”

Felixia turned to face him, her cheeks still inflated. She began punching him as he went on to talk about his project.

He held up his hands in resignation. “Fine, fine, fine. I’m not going talk about it anymore. It’s brother and sister bonding time!”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

Felixia turned back to her happy self once again.

"Hey Felixia. Let's go out for a bit. I want to buy something."

"This isn't connected to your project, is it?" Felixia looked at Felix suspiciously.

"No! We're going to the merchant stalls outside. Let's buy baskets!"

His sister clapped her hands together and laughed out loud. "That's a great idea! Let's buy one for Aileen as well!"

"You're just going to piss her off."

"Yep!" Felixia hugged her brother.

Felix ruffled his sister's frizzy hair. "Let's scream really loud when the BasketSlayer comes out. He's going to be in the first set. I hope he wins. The competition is really tough this year."

"I'm going to scream with all my might so that he will win!"