A grand trophy

The injured knight, driven by panic, stumbled backward, shield raised in a desperate attempt to shield himself. Kazimir, calculating and patient, seized the opportune moment. Rather than delivering a final blow, he propelled himself into the air, both legs extending in a powerful kick aimed at the knight's shield. The impact sent the knight sprawling, crashing into his comrades with a cacophony of clattering armor.

With a triumphant roar, Kazimir asserted his dominance. Engaging both Ghostly Step and Ghostly Clone simultaneously, he wove a complex illusion. The arena bore witness to the illusion of two Kazimirs converging upon the disoriented knights. In reality, there was only one, but the clever use of these techniques created a confounding spectacle.

The knight leader, recovering from the initial chaos, hastily raised his sword to parry an incoming axe—or so he believed. The ringing clash was merely an illusion, and as the knight triumphantly defended against the phantom attack, a sudden gleam of Orcish steel manifested from the side. With a visceral, wet sound, the knight's head was cleanly severed from his shoulders.

Upon vanquishing the knight leader, Kazimir extended his right hand towards the lifeless body. A peculiar substance, resembling a mist of white and blue hues, appeared to be drawn from the fallen knight and coalesced within Kazimir's palm. His grim declaration echoed in the arena, "Your soul is mine!"

This arcane ritual revealed a clandestine facet of Kazimir's capabilities—he possessed the ability to assimilate the souls of his defeated foes. The knight leader's essence was not the first to be absorbed; the same fate befell the bandits who had previously assaulted Kazimir.

The reason why Kazimir did not use his soul skills until know was not because he did not know how to use them, but because he needed more souls. He realized that he can do that after killing the first bandit and that's when he felt the hunger for the first time. 

A sinister laughter escaped Kazimir's lips as he reveled in the acquired souls. His eyes, once ordinary, now bore a subtle shade of purple, an eerie manifestation of the otherworldly power coursing through him. As the remaining knights recoiled in terror, a collective shout of "A demon!" resonated through the arena.

In a mocking tone, Kazimir seized the opportunity to further terrify his adversaries. "A demon? Where?" he quipped, punctuating the jest with an axe swung with ruthless precision. Each blow found its mark, cleaving through the defenseless knights as they futilely attempted to flee towards the entrance. Instead of salvation, an agonizing demise awaited them as the cold steel met the back of their heads, extinguishing the feeble hope that had momentarily flickered within them.

Thunderous roars resonated across the arena as the orcs reveled in the thrill of a fierce battle, their primal instincts fully awakened.

Seba, visibly satisfied with the results, bellowed, "Fellow Orcish warriors! Behold Kazimir, who faced his adversaries with a defiant grin, surrounded on all sides. Unyielding, potent, and an unstoppable force. On his inaugural day, I propose we embrace him as one of our own! Does anyone dare not agree?"