Leaves rustled across the forest; no matter how hard Vera tried, he couldn't pinpoint the sound in any direction.

  Each sound he looked toward, the wildebeests came a step closer.

  By the time he knew it, he was already surrounded.

  Breaths passed as usual; his heart beat the same.

  However, as he looked around, he realised that there was no visible end to them.

  Each breath slowed by a pace, each beat taking a moment longer.

  Vera felt his very conviction leaving his body.

  A slow breath followed... Vera closed his eyes, a longing for sleep holding his eyelids shut.

  The slow march of the wildebeests resounded through the forest, forming a symphony that echoed an absolute death.

  Both in mind and body.

  Vera's still breath morphed; the change halted the horde's march. Qi moving through his body at a calm pace. Each joint and extremity fortified to the bare minimum.

  A quiet intensity reappeared in Vera's eyes, half conviction and half bravado.

  Leaves rustled against the floor as he dropped low, dashing to the weakest point of the horde.

  Followed by their symphony, the horde started to converge in Vera's direction.

  As the breakthrough point got closer, the encirclement thickened.

  A silent thud followed by the sound of dripping blood. Vera's fist was covered in blood as a wildebeest's body lay lifeless. The leaves continued to rustle, and blood continued to drip, dull thuds turning to white noise.

  Fluid movements coupled with critical blows. Each step was foreshadowed by the rustling of leaves, now foreshadowed by the splattering of blood.

  The wildebeests charged towards Vera, their guttural bleating drowning out the dull thuds.

  Horns sliced through the air one by one, each aiming for Vera's flesh.

  Even as darkness left the eyes vestigial, Vera's exceptional senses warned him of each coming attack.

  In such numbers the wildebeests often crashed into each other. Their horns ripping open each other's guts. Even so, they charged at Vera, unbothered by their entrails being dragged across the earth.

  One by one corpses and blood drowned the earth, the terrain itself growing unrecognisable.

  Movements grew finer, their precision strengthening, not from growth but to mitigate exhaustion.

  Vera rubbed his eyes, wiping off the blood that obscured his vision. In his hands now stood the horns of a wildebeest, blood seeping from the veins that dangled beneath the horns.

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  The sight of wildebeests charging at Vera with their guts in tow showed Vera that fatal strikes were imperative.

  The wildebeests only found stillness in death.

  Despite the cold of the night, Vera's body ran hot, fresh layers of warm blood lathering his body.

  At some point Vera started using the horde's numbers against it. Weaving out of blows to make the beasts crash into each other.

  As his breaths stifled, Vera wiped his face, clearing blood from his nose.

  The thick scent of copper and faeces filled the air, rendering Vera's nose useless.

  A congregation of dull bleats with groans stained in death and pain, rendering Vera's ears useless.

  Movements that once came effortlessly turned to strained trudges. Barely being able to see out of his eyes, Vera trudged to the breakthrough point. His feet dragging through the entrails of innumerable beasts.

  The world turned over—Vera found himself lying on a bed of death.

  A wildebeest's intestine wrapped around his foot.

  Corpses sank lower as Vera got up. Blood dripped down his palms as he wiped his face.

  His eyes latched onto the moon, unmoved over what felt like an eternity.

  Arms like lead, breaths like gasps, head like a furnace.

  A loud scream erupted from Vera, only to be drowned out by the horde's symphony.

  Vera rushed into the horde ahead of him. No sense of refinement. No sense of fluidity. Only desperation remained.

  ***

  The symphony of the horde left demons and animals alike scurrying away from the forest.

  Yet a pair of eyes remained glued to the battle.

  "So you finally came here."

  "Did you finally realise this world was never enough for you..."

  In the presence of the symphony, his steps felt almost non-existent. Even so, it carried the weight of a warrior.

  The stars lit up the night sky, heightening the red hue in the air even more.

  As time passed Vera continued to fight, preserving himself to outlast the horde.

  Action regardless of outcome...

  The wind shrieked as Vera swung his lead-like arms. Movement regardless of outcome, yet it felt empty.

  The intensity Vera felt in his battle against Vast Heaven was not here...

  Where am I going wrong?

  The smooth movement of his qi grew violent, its golden shine tainted by a red hue.

  Horns ripped through Vera's skin, unable to pierce through his body. Nonetheless, blood flowed like a river.

  Only the sense of touch remained. The rest were overwhelmed by sheer volume. His very mind was overwhelmed; repetition turned thoughtful action to a blur.

  His trained body acted as the only sense of relent, preserving him for the next opponent.

  Challenger after challenger, the process of battle itself feels mundane.

  Unbeknownst to Vera, the horde was thinning. His own efforts coupled with the presence of another challenger.

  The eye of the storm split into two.

  Even though the horde had thinned, Vera's movements continued to deteriorate.

  Each swing widening by an inch...

  The symphony started to dampen... the sound of a visceral battle clawing at it.

  The cacophony that blinded Vera weakened. A moment's breath finally reached him.

  The blood that covered his eyes was finally wiped off.

  It was still night...

  Yet, a bright golden hue stood in the battlefield.

  Despite its refined shine, it moved like a mad beast. Biting into the neck of the beasts, ripping away at their bodies.

  Vera's body continued to fight the beasts, but his eyes were stuck to the golden hue.

  Each swing showed Vera where he went wrong.

  Relent?...

  Vera's movements grew feral.

  Why was I conserving myself? ...

  The skulls of wildebeests turned to mist as they met with Vera's fists.

  Preserving myself for the next challenger...

  Visceral screams escaped Vera as he ripped open a wildebeest maw.

  Did I think of myself as the champion? ...

  The sense of relent vanished, mirroring Vera's movements.

  How could mortal indignation exist in someone who relents?

  Vera no longer cared about whether or not he'd last till dawn. Each swing bore a sense of fullness.

  Every movement was filled with his everything. Thoughts of the next challenger disappeared.

  The heavens only respond to truth... At this moment Vera's body and mind reflected only the truth.

  Art over life.

  ***

  His very being stood undifferentiated from violence. Layers of blood and guts dried on his body. A carapace of death shielded his body from the light of dawn.

  As he knelt on a bed of corpses, he stared into the horizon. A horizon of golden majesty, devoid of its once ghostly hue.

  Now that he'd given his everything, there was nothing left.

  His body slumped into the bed it'd made. Vapour escaped his body at a steady pace, signalling the end of a war.

  The sound of the world around Vera returned. Nature's harmony akin to a lullaby; Vera's consciousness faded.