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The ref tried to intervene, but Cain impaled Thera on his horn and then ripped her in half with it like it was a knife. He held the two halves of her shredded corpse, letting her blood pour down onto his face and paint him red, all while he continued to scream in a berserker’s euphoria. Once the crimson spray had slowed, he tossed Thera aside and pointed to the crowd.

That previous single thought of her own indecency was wiped out by the tidal wave of her curiosity. About the only thing that she was still aware of was her father’s steady breathing and making sure not to wake him. Taking care not to cause too much disturbance on the mattress, she gently shifted further down the bed. Her dad was still unfolded like starfish, so her legs had to slide out alongside them as she brought her face down to the level of his pelvis.

“Don’t you lecture me. You’re just fighting so that people will like you. You’re so desperate for their approval, yet have the nerve to call me spiteful. My path as a warrior doesn’t lead to acknowledgment or people carrying me on their shoulders. I don’t fight in life because I want to be idolized. I fight to understand myself, to know my limits, to know what I’m capable of, and to go even farther. The challenges I’ve overcome, the setbacks I’ve endured, the boundaries I’ve surpassed! Those are what define me as a man, as a warrior! I walk this path because life is most valuable when you have to fight for it!”