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Cyrilo flashed a wry smile. “All the low-rank fighters have been purged, so now the real show will begin. Besides, with this tournament going on, I barely get any customers during the day, so I might as well close up and go see what all the fuss is about.”“Man, this is so cool,” said Daniel. “I feel like I’m in ancient Rome. All we need is a few lions and some Christians to feed to them.”

Eventually, he had to stop and rest, unable to complete his workout. The fact that it was so challenging meant that he was doing something right. He assumed the lotus position on the floor and began meditating to regain his strength. Now that he was no longer moving, the crushing force of the magical restraints eased, while still keeping his mana suppressed. Curious, he decided to practice his spiritual sense training. The Harajin had a method of invisibility known as Bakudan, in which they would slow the flow of their mana, near to the point of a complete halt, and that stillness would allow them to blend in with their environment, as if reality itself had overlooked them. It also helped hone one’s awareness of the ethereal.

“But I CAN’T make up for what I’ve done, don’t you understand? I can’t bring back the people I’ve killed. I can’t heal the people I’ve hurt. I can’t undo the damage I’ve wrought. One lifetime is not enough to properly repent for my sins, so why bother living? Maybe N-N-N-N… he… should have just killed me. I don’t deserve to live for what I’ve done. He said he would take everything from me, every sensation I can enjoy, every thought and feeling that makes me who I am, my hopes and dreams. He was right, it took it all, but he let me keep me life. I wish he hadn’t. I don’t deserve it.”