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Chapter 15 - The Arena of chains

Aarav stepped into darkness.

The stone corridor stretched endlessly ahead, the air growing heavier with every step. The walls were lined with torches, their flames burning an unnatural blue.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind him.

No going back.

A voice echoed in the shadows.

"Another has arrived."

Aarav's muscles tensed. He wasn't alone.

The corridor opened into a vast, circular arena—its ground cracked and scorched, the remnants of past battles etched into the stone.

Massive chains hung from above, some coiled around enormous pillars, others dangling freely into the abyss below.

At the center of the arena stood three figures.

They turned to face him, their eyes gleaming with hunger.

The tallest of them—a scarred warrior with arms wrapped in chains—grinned.

"So, you're the new Oathbearer."

Aarav rolled his shoulders, his fingers itching to move. "And you are?"

The warrior's grin widened. "Your first real fight."

With a sudden motion, he raised his arm—and the chains around him came to life.

They snapped forward like vipers, hissing through the air toward Aarav.

He barely had time to react.

Aarav dove to the side, rolling across the stone as the chains struck the ground where he had just been. The impact shattered the floor, sending debris flying.

He landed on his feet, breath steady. Fast. Strong. Deadly.

The warrior laughed. "Don't die too quickly, Oathbearer. The real fun hasn't even started."

The other two figures moved.

Aarav's gaze sharpened. Three against one. No retreat.

His first true battle had begun.

Aarav's heart pounded. Three opponents. One exit.

No retreat.

The scarred warrior with the living chains stood at the center, a predator's grin stretching across his face. The other two fighters flanked him—a lean woman with daggers glinting in her hands and a hulking brute whose arms were covered in jagged, bone-like armor.

Aarav's mind raced.

The Oath's first commandment—No Retreat.

If he tried to escape, the mark would kill him.

No choice. He had to win.

The chain-wielding warrior raised his hand.

"Break him."

The woman vanished.

Aarav barely had time to react before a dagger sliced through the air toward his throat.

He twisted. A breath too slow.

The blade grazed his cheek, drawing blood. She's fast.

Aarav countered, lashing out with a kick. She danced away, barely touched.

Then, a shadow loomed over him.

The brute's fist came down like a hammer.

Aarav rolled back just in time as the impact cracked the arena floor. If that had hit, he'd be paste.

The scarred warrior laughed.

"Not bad, Oathbearer. But let's see you dodge this."

The chains lunged.

Aarav pivoted, narrowly avoiding one—but a second chain coiled around his wrist.

The moment it touched him, a crushing force wrapped around his arm.

Pain flared. Like his bones were being ground to dust.

Aarav gritted his teeth. He planted his feet and yanked—twisting his body to pull the scarred warrior off balance.

For a second, it worked.

Then—a dagger flashed toward his ribs.

Too fast.

No time to dodge.

Aarav made a split-second decision.

He leaned into it.

The dagger stabbed into his side, just missing anything vital. Pain flared—but he moved.

With a snarl, he drove his knee into the woman's stomach.

She gasped—but before he could follow up, the brute was already swinging.

Aarav barely raised his arms in time.

The punch connected.

It felt like getting hit by a truck.

Aarav flew backward, smashing into the stone floor.

His vision blurred. Ribs cracked. Blood filled his mouth.

The chain-wielding warrior approached, his smirk unwavering.

"Disappointing."

Aarav coughed, wiping blood from his lips.

His mark burned.

A reminder.

No retreat. No hesitation. No fear.

A slow grin spread across his face.

"That all you got?"

The warrior's smirk faltered.

Aarav rose to his feet.

His breathing was ragged, his side bled freely—but his stance was steady.

Something shifted in the air.

The woman took a step back. The brute hesitated.

The scarred warrior's eyes narrowed.

Aarav rolled his shoulders. "My turn."

Aarav exhaled slowly, his grip tightening. Pain didn't matter. Blood didn't matter.

Only one thing mattered—winning.

The scarred warrior's smirk returned. "Still standing? Good. This will be fun."

The chains lashed out again.

This time, Aarav moved first.

Instead of dodging, he charged forward, twisting his body at the last moment. The first chain missed—but the second coiled around his forearm again.

Aarav snarled.

"You think I'll fall for that twice?"

Before the chain could constrict, he yanked it forward with all his strength.

The warrior's eyes widened—caught off guard.

Aarav used the momentum.

He lunged forward, twisting midair, and drove his knee into the warrior's face.

CRACK.

The sound of breaking bone filled the arena.

The warrior stumbled back, blood gushing from his shattered nose. His chains writhed wildly, no longer under full control.

Opportunity.

Aarav spun—just as the dagger-wielding woman reappeared behind him.

He caught her wrist mid-strike.

Her eyes went wide. Too late.

Aarav turned, yanking her off balance—then smashed his elbow into her jaw.

She collapsed.

A roar tore through the air.

The brute charged, his fists like hammers.

Aarav barely dodged. The ground cracked beneath the impact.

Too strong to fight head-on.

Aarav's gaze flickered to the chains. Still moving. Still alive.

Use them.

With a fierce grin, Aarav dashed toward the scarred warrior's chains.

The brute followed, swinging wildly. Predictable.

At the last moment, Aarav leapt—grabbing hold of a chain mid-air.

The brute's momentum carried him forward—straight into the chain's path.

The warrior had no time to react.

The chain coiled around the brute's neck.

His eyes bulged. He gasped for air, clawing at the steel tightening around his throat.

Aarav landed, panting.

The scarred warrior wiped blood from his nose, eyes blazing with fury.

"You little—"

Aarav didn't let him finish.

With one last burst of speed, he closed the distance—drove his fist into the warrior's stomach—and followed with an uppercut to the jaw.

The warrior staggered.

Aarav spun. A brutal kick to the head.

He collapsed.

Silence.

The arena rumbled.

The remaining chains went still.

Aarav straightened, his breath ragged, his body aching—but victorious.

Above, the Keepers watched in silence.

Then—a slow clap.

A voice rang out. Cold. Amused. Dangerous.

"Not bad, Oathbearer. But let's see how long you last."

Aarav's eyes snapped up.

A figure stepped forward from the shadows.

Someone stronger was waiting.

Aarav turned toward the voice.

From the shadows of the arena's upper level, a lone figure emerged—tall, poised, and wrapped in flowing black robes. The flickering torchlight revealed intricate golden tattoos lining his arms, pulsing like veins of molten metal.

But it was his eyes that sent a chill down Aarav's spine.

They weren't human.

Twin pools of gold. Deep, ancient, watching.

The fallen warriors—the chain wielder, the dagger-wielding woman, the brute—trembled. Even in unconsciousness, their bodies recoiled.

Aarav's grip tightened. This guy… he wasn't normal.

The man slowly descended the stone steps. Unhurried. In control.

He clapped again, the sound ringing through the silent arena.

"Impressive."

Aarav said nothing. His instincts screamed at him.

The man stopped at the arena's edge, standing above the battlefield. His gaze swept over the broken fighters before settling on Aarav.

"You fight like a beast, but you lack discipline."

Aarav exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "And who the hell are you?"

A smirk. "A lesson."

The air shifted.

Aarav barely had time to react before the man moved.

Too fast.

One moment he was above—the next, he was in front of Aarav.

A fist drove into Aarav's gut.

The impact was like a thunderclap.

Aarav's eyes widened. Air was gone. Strength was gone. His ribs screamed as he was launched backward, crashing into the stone wall.

His vision blurred. What… was that?

He forced himself up, spitting blood.

The golden-eyed man hadn't even changed stance.

This is different.

The previous fighters had been strong, but this was something else entirely.

Refined. Precise. Controlled.

Aarav wiped his mouth. Pain meant nothing. He had to keep moving.

The man tilted his head. "Still standing? Maybe you're not completely hopeless."

Aarav's lips curled. "Then stop talking and fight."

A pause.

Then—a smile.

"As you wish."

The ground beneath them cracked.

Aarav tensed. The real fight had just begun.

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