From a very young age, Uriel had always wondered why his father hated him, why he was beaten for the slightest mistake he made, why the world he lived in couldn't be a little kinder, a little fairer.
As he grew older, that feeling only intensified with time. At the end of the day, Uriel came to understand that the world was unjust, and if he didn't act, then no one would do it for him. In this unfair world, he knew he was no one—just a speck of dust.
Even so, he kept moving forward, determined to change his surroundings, to give the most precious thing he had ever had in his life a chance to escape the violence of his home.
If there was no light in this dark world, then he would become a small point in the darkness; if there was no warmth in this cold world, then he would become a small ember for the people he loved.
But no matter how much he wanted to be someone good who lived in peace, he understood the world wouldn't allow it. In the end, for every good person there were two bad ones in the world—that was something the old man always told him.
No matter what we did, in the end evil would always prevail over good. He understood that, but in this tower Uriel saw an opportunity, an option he had never before envisioned in his life.
If in this world there would always be two bad people for every good one, then all Uriel had to do was purge the evil. Uriel no longer hesitated; he didn't ask himself unnecessary questions like when he killed Malach—this time was different.
Normally, when Uriel struck someone in the face, he felt pain. However, his body, enhanced by his stats, had no such problem. Uriel's fist crashed into Masson's face, leaving him unable to say anything—not even to groan.
Elijah quickly understood what was happening: the injured man wasn't as hurt as he appeared, and his first reaction was to try to grab Ininise's arm to prevent the fight from turning into a group battle. Uriel knew they were unaware of Ininise's class, or if they had realized it, then they didn't know she lacked mana to cast spells.
But that advantage wouldn't last long, so every second that passed brought them closer to defeat while those two remained standing.
Of course, Elijah didn't expect the girl—who had looked fragile and defenseless just moments ago—to move with an agility that far surpassed his. At that moment, he stopped caring that the woman before him was the most beautiful he had ever seen.
She had become an enemy who threatened his life, and he had to kill her immediately, so he drew his greatsword, ready to cut her down.
Uriel, of course, was worried about Ininise, but unfortunately, this was the only way they had a chance. If he had stayed protecting her, things wouldn't have gone this well.
Masson, however, was well-trained. Instead of crouching to cover his face in pain, he quickly moved away, trying to take a step back. But his arm was firmly seized by Uriel, who wasn't about to let him escape.
Quickly, he summoned his hammer and tried to end everything with a blow to Masson's head. If he could land even one, a fracture was guaranteed, which would allow him to win the fight immediately.
But Masson wasn't the type to stand still and accept death. Uriel was slow and predictable when it came to fighting with weapons, so it wasn't difficult for Masson to shift his center of gravity, dodging and crouching with skill.
He summoned his knife and aimed for Uriel's kidneys and liver. Uriel sensed where the vicious attacks were headed and tried to move quickly along with Masson. The knife sank deep into Uriel's body; however, it struck his sides—not a vital point. He would still suffer heavy bleeding later, and the blade might even be poisoned.
But Uriel was happy, because all of those possibilities meant he wouldn't collapse immediately and could keep fighting.
He had to avoid further injuries, so he closed the distance, pressing his body against Masson's. From that range, it would be too difficult to stab him—but that wasn't Uriel's goal. What he wanted was to end this fight here and now.
"Let me go, you bastard!"
Uriel couldn't summon his mace—he was too close, and his arm was occupied preventing further stabs from Masson. However, there was something he had trained his entire life, something that had even been reinforced in combat classes.
The old man knew Uriel would likely have clear deficiencies due to his lack of skill with bladed weapons like swords and maces; but when it came to knives and hand-to-hand combat, Uriel could bet he had more experience than most people trained in combat academies.
His body was very resilient thanks to his class; Uriel knew it, just as he understood that Masson's body, being of a rank class, was the opposite. Couldn't hit him with the mace? Then Uriel himself would become the mace.
Uriel dropped all his weight forward and slammed his head into Masson's. He barely felt it; it was a strange sensation. The first blow was hard—it even hurt a little—then came the second and the third. Without realizing it, carried away by the fight, Uriel kept smashing his forehead into Masson's head over and over again. He felt some blood enter his mouth; it was inevitable—and disgusting.
After a few moments, the sense of hardness from colliding with broken skull bones turned into something very different. Uriel noticed it now felt soft and viscous to the touch. When he opened his eyes, he saw that part of Masson's head had caved in, while blood mixed with pink brain matter.
Before him, there was nothing left but a brutally deformed corpse. Uriel let it fall to the ground, lifeless.
Masson no longer existed in this world.