"Cringe?"
The Monk repeated the word. It sounded like he was tasting poison.
"You call... five thousand years of atonement... cringe?"
"Yep," Kaizen popped the 'p' sound. He leaned casually against a pillar, though his knees were secretly knocking together like castanets. "I mean, look at you. You're arranging dead flowers for a headless statue. It's giving 'Drama Queen' energy."
The Monk's hands clenched. The frozen stem in his grip pulverized into dust.
"You know nothing," the Monk whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and rising fury. "You did not hear their screams. You did not feel their small hearts stop beating against your blade."
He turned fully toward Kaizen. His eyes, hidden beneath his hair, burned with a golden, terrifying light.
"They were pure! They were innocent! And I..."
"And you killed them," Kaizen interrupted, yawning. "We get it. You had a bad day at the office. You slipped on a banana peel and decapitated a kindergarten class. It happens."
[ Aggro Rising... ]
The air in the temple grew heavy. It felt like gravity had just doubled.
Kaizen's heart was hammering against his ribs. 'I am insane. I am literally insulting a holy warrior who could vaporize me with a sneeze. My survival instinct is broken.'
But greed for survival instinct was screaming: YES! HE'S CHARGING UP! I am about to get my cool katana!!
"Bad day?" The Monk's voice rose to a roar. The stone floor beneath him cracked. "It was the end of days! I was their shield! I was their light! And I became their executioner!"
"So?" Kaizen shot back, stepping forward. "So you dress up in rags and cry about it for five millennia? Does that bring them back? Does your snot and tears un-kill them?"
"SILENCE!"
"You're not a Saint," Kaizen sneered, poking the bear with a rusty stick. "You're just a coward hiding in a ruin because you're too scared to face the truth."
"I SAID SILENCE!"
BOOM.
The Monk snapped.
A shockwave of golden mana exploded from his body.
Kaizen didn't even have time to dodge. The force hit him like a physical wall, blowing his hair back and rattling his teeth.
"About time," Kaizen grinned maniacally, shielding his eyes.
The world shattered.
The grey stone walls dissolved. The frozen flowers vanished. The peaceful, rotting silence was ripped away.
FLASH.
The smell hit him first.
Copper. Iron. Ash.
The smell of a battlefield.
Kaizen blinked. The temple was no longer a ruin. It was whole, but it was a slaughterhouse.
The pristine marble floor was slick with black ichor and red blood. Bodies were everywhere. Monks in shredded robes. Paladins in dented armor. Demons dissolving into smoke.
It was That Day.
The visual filter had shifted from "Grey Depression" to "High-Contrast Horror."
Kaizen looked around. The Monk was gone.
In his place, in the center of the carnage, was a figure kneeling in a pool of blood.
He wore armor of white steel, now stained crimson. His helmet lay discarded on the floor, revealing a face twisted in eternal agony.
He was cradling three small, lifeless bodies.
And beside him...
Lying in the muck, stabbing into the stone floor...
The Sword.
It wasn't a Greatsword anymore. It had melted, twisted, and reforged itself in the heat of the Paladin's despair.
It was a Katana. The Saintsplitter!
Pitch black, like a shard of the void, but with beautiful murals of gold running down the spine. It was beautiful. It was tragic. It was the coolest loot Kaizen had ever seen.
The kneeling Knight slowly lifted his head. His eyes weren't golden. They were hollow, black pits leaking dark tears.
He looked at Kaizen.
He reached for the black katana.
Shinnnng.
The sound of the blade being pulled from the stone sounded like a scream. He picked up the helmet and put it on…
Kaizen swallowed dryly. His leg shook uncontrollably.
'Okay. I wanted the boss fight. I got the boss fight.'
A red system window slammed into his vision.
[ SYSTEM ALERT ]
[ Dungeon Updated: The despairing Last light of Sun ]
[ Rank: D ]
[ BOSS ENCOUNTER STARTED ]
[ Sir Cassiel, The Fallen ]
[ Rank: D (Corrupted) ]
Kaizen gripped his Rusty Pan of Doom.
"Alright, Sir Cries-A-Lot," Kaizen whispered, sweating bullets. "Let's see if trash can beat trauma."