The air smelled like burnt flesh and old blood.
Sir Cassiel stood up slowly. He didn't look like the hero from the murals anymore. He looked like a man who had been hollowed out by grief, leaving nothing but a shell of armor and regrets.
His white steel was stained black. His eyes leaked darkness instead of tears. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer crushing weight of what he had done to the children lying at his feet.
"You..." Cassiel whispered, his voice cracking.
He pointed the black katana at Kaizen. The golden streak on the blade pulsed like a dying heartbeat.
"You brought me back... to this despair."
Kaizen gripped the pan handle with both hands. His palms were slick with sweat, and his heart was doing gymnastics in his chest.
"No. I didn't bring you anywhere. You're the one who refuses to leave."
"SILENCE!"
Cassiel didn't run. He vanished.
It was pure speed. D-Rank speed.
Kaizen's eyes couldn't track it. He was an F-Rank awakened. To him, the Paladin simply dissolved into a blur of motion, a glitch in the world's frame rate.
He didn't see the slash coming. He didn't calculate the angle. He didn't have time to think.
But his body knew.
It was the raw, primal instinct of a small animal realizing a predator was about to bite its throat. It was the flinch response of a terrified extra who didn't want to die in a cutscene.
'MOVE!'
Kaizen's arms jerked upward. It wasn't skill. It was pure panic. He shoved the rusty iron plate between his face and the invisible death screaming toward him.
CLANG!
The sound was deafening. It sounded like a church bell being struck by a sledgehammer.
Sparks showered down like fireworks.
The black katana bit into the rim of the rusty pan.
It held.
The metal didn't shear. The rust didn't flake away. The pan held firm against the legendary blade because it wasn't just trash anymore. It was a D-Rank weapon facing another D-Rank weapon.
Steel against Iron. Despair against Garbage.
But while the pan held, Kaizen's body paid the price.
"GUH!"
The impact traveled down his arms like a lightning bolt. His elbows locked violently. His shoulders felt like they were being dislocated from their sockets. His feet slid backward, carving deep grooves into the blood-slicked stone floor.
'Heavy. He's so heavy.'
Kaizen gritted his teeth, his knees buckling under the pressure. Cassiel was pressing down, his face inches away, twisted in a mask of sorrow and rage.
"Why won't you let me forget?!" Cassiel screamed, pushing harder. "Why must I remember their screams?!"
Kaizen felt his bones creaking. He was losing. He was F-Rank. He was going to be crushed into paste right here on the temple floor.
Then.
Ding.
A small, unassuming number flashed in the corner of his mind.
[ Kinetic Energy Absorbed. ]
[ Multiplier: 1x ]
Kaizen froze.
He looked at the number. He felt the pan vibrating in his hands, humming with a strange, stored power.
'1x?'
The description came back to him. "Absorbed the kinetic energy of countless angry chefs."
It wasn't just a heavy hitter. It was a battery.
It took the hit. It took the force. And it held it.
Every time he blocked, the counter went up. And if the counter went up... that meant he could release it.
It wasn't about being stronger. It was about rhythm.
Kaizen looked at Cassiel's tear-stained face. He realized he didn't need to overpower the Paladin. He just needed to survive the beatdown long enough to return the favor.
A small, crazy smile formed on Kaizen's lips.
"You want to remember?" Kaizen grunted, straining against the crushing weight of the sword.
Cassiel blinked, confused by the smile on the boy's face.
"Then let me help you jog your memory."
Kaizen shoved the pan forward, breaking the lock.
He didn't retreat. He stepped in.