Aarav barely had time to blink before the Golden-Eyed Man moved again.
No wasted movement. No hesitation. Pure, calculated destruction.
A fist blurred toward Aarav's face.
He ducked.
A gust of wind howled past his head, the sheer force of the strike splitting the stone wall behind him.
Aarav twisted, aiming a counterattack at the man's ribs—only for his fist to pass through empty air.
He was already gone.
A cold whisper brushed against his ear.
"Too slow."
Aarav's instincts screamed.
A knee drove into his back.
CRACK.
He felt something snap. His vision went white as he was sent skidding across the arena floor.
Dust and blood trailed behind him.
Aarav groaned, forcing himself up. His arms shook. His spine ached.
The Golden Tyrant stood unmoved, hands still in his pockets.
Aarav coughed, tasting iron. "What the hell… was that?"
The man's gaze remained unreadable. "That was mercy."
Aarav wiped his mouth, glaring. "Give me the real thing, then."
A pause.
Then—the man smiled.
"Fine."
The air turned heavy.
Something unseen descended upon the arena.
The torches flickered. The stone trembled. The chains in the arena creaked under an invisible weight.
Aarav's muscles tensed. His body screamed at him to run.
This wasn't normal power. This was something else.
Something ancient.
The man took a single step forward. That was all.
And the world collapsed around him.
Aarav's vision swam.
His breath caught. His heart pounded.
The air pressed against his skin like a crushing tide. His lungs burned. His knees buckled.
Aarav grit his teeth. What… is this?!
The Golden Tyrant's voice was calm. Absolute.
"Kneel."
Aarav's body moved against his will.
His knees slammed against the stone.
He couldn't stand.
It wasn't an attack.
It wasn't a technique.
It was pure, unrelenting presence.
The weight of authority.
Aarav gasped for breath. His body screamed. His mark burned.
No retreat. No hesitation. No fear.
His fingers dug into the ground.
His legs trembled.
He forced himself up.
Inch by inch.
Aarav grinned through the blood dripping down his chin.
"Is that all you got?"
The Golden Tyrant paused.
His golden eyes gleamed.
And then, for the first time—he laughed.
The Golden Tyrant's laugh echoed through the arena.
Cold. Amused. Like a king watching an insect struggle.
Aarav gritted his teeth. Every part of his body screamed in protest.
His bones felt like they were cracking under the weight of the man's presence. His muscles refused to move. His lungs burned as if they were drowning.
But still—he didn't fall.
The Golden Tyrant tilted his head. "You refuse?"
Aarav smirked, wiping blood from his lips. "Kinda hard to kneel… when I'm too busy standing."
The man stopped laughing.
The temperature around them dropped.
A mistake.
Aarav saw it in his eyes. The slight flicker of surprise. The way his golden gaze narrowed just slightly.
This man—who had crushed him with just his presence—hadn't expected him to resist.
That meant something.
Aarav took a step forward.
One step.
And the weight cracked.
The Golden Tyrant's eyes flashed.
"Interesting."
The invisible force intensified.
The ground beneath Aarav splintered. His veins felt like they were boiling.
And yet—his foot remained firm.
He pushed harder.
Another step.
The chains hanging from the arena's walls rattled violently.
A third step.
Aarav exhaled slowly. His fingers twitched.
He could move.
The Golden Tyrant's smirk returned. "So, you have some will after all."
Aarav rolled his shoulders. "Enough to break you."
He moved.
A blur of motion.
Aarav's fist cut through the air—aimed straight for the man's jaw.
The Golden Tyrant didn't dodge.
He caught it.
Aarav's knuckles slammed into something unmovable.
A sudden shockwave exploded outward. The entire arena trembled.
Dust and stone erupted into the air.
Aarav locked eyes with the man.
And then—a grin.
The Golden Tyrant's grip tightened.
Aarav felt his bones strain.
Then—a whisper.
"My turn."
Before Aarav could react—a fist buried itself in his ribs.
BOOM.
Aarav's body launched backward.
The world spun. His breath was gone. His vision blurred.
Then—impact.
His back slammed into the stone wall.
CRACK.
The entire structure caved in.
Dust and rubble collapsed over him.
Silence.
Then—footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate. Unstoppable.
Through the dust, the Golden Tyrant emerged.
He ran a hand through his golden tattoos, eyes gleaming.
"Get up, Oathbearer."
Aarav's vision flickered.
His mark burned.
His body refused to stay down.
He grinned through the blood.
"You hit like a bitch."
The Golden Tyrant's smirk widened.
And then—he moved again.
Aarav's body rebelled against him. Every muscle screamed, every nerve burned. Pain was everywhere.
And yet—he refused to fall.
He staggered forward, spitting blood onto the cracked stone.
Across from him, the Golden Tyrant stood unmoved. His golden tattoos glowed like molten veins, pulsing with power.
Unshaken. Untouched.
Aarav clenched his fists.
This wasn't a fight.
It was a demonstration.
A show of absolute dominance.
And Aarav hated it.
"Still standing?" The Golden Tyrant's voice was calm. "Or just too stubborn to admit defeat?"
Aarav wiped his mouth, grinning. "Bit of both."
A pause.
Then—a laugh.
"Good."
The air cracked.
Before Aarav could react—he was gone.
Aarav's instincts flared. Move.
He twisted—just as a golden fist carved through the air.
BOOM.
The entire arena floor shattered beneath them.
Stone fragments flew, dust exploding outward.
Aarav's heart pounded. That punch—if he'd been even a second slower…
The Golden Tyrant turned his head. He wasn't even trying.
Aarav lunged.
A blur of motion—he struck out with a flurry of punches, each one aiming for a weak spot.
Throat. Ribs. Jaw. Solar plexus.
Impact.
But—no reaction.
Aarav's fists crashed against something unmovable.
The Golden Tyrant barely flinched.
Then—his arm moved.
A single, effortless backhand.
Aarav barely had time to block before the force sent him skidding backward.
He dug his feet into the ground, stopping just short of the arena's edge.
His breath was ragged.
The Golden Tyrant sighed. "Is that all?"
Aarav growled. "You're pissing me off."
The Golden Tyrant smiled. "Good. Anger is fuel."
He lifted his hand.
And the world changed.
Aarav's stomach dropped.
The arena vanished.
The sky above turned gold.
The air became heavy, thick with something ancient.
And then—he saw them.
Golden chains.
Thousands.
They coiled through the air, each link etched with script older than time.
They hovered above him, around him, beneath him.
Waiting.
Aarav's heartbeat quickened. "What the hell is this?"
The Golden Tyrant's voice was soft. "A lesson."
The chains moved.
Aarav braced.
But they didn't strike.
Instead—they wrapped around his arms, his legs, his throat.
They didn't crush him.
They didn't strangle him.
They simply held him.
Frozen. Trapped.
The Golden Tyrant stepped forward.
His golden eyes glowed.
"This is power."
Aarav struggled, but the chains didn't budge.
His muscles strained. Nothing.
The Golden Tyrant tilted his head. "You think strength is enough?"
The chains tightened.
Aarav gritted his teeth.
His mark burned.
His veins pulsed.
His vision blurred between past and present.
The weight of something dormant stirred inside him.
And for the first time—the chains cracked.
The Golden Tyrant's gaze sharpened.
"Oh?"
Aarav exhaled slowly.
A grin formed on his bloodied lips.
"Your move, golden boy."
A single crack ran along the surface of the golden chain.
Thin. Small. Insignificant.
But the Golden Tyrant noticed.
His golden eyes narrowed.
Aarav grinned. "Not so unbreakable after all."
The Golden Tyrant's expression remained unreadable. "You think a scratch means victory?"
He raised his hand—and the world shifted.
The chains tightened.
Not just around his arms. Not just around his legs.
But around his soul.
Aarav choked.
The air vanished from his lungs.
The golden links burned against his skin.
This wasn't physical restraint. This was something deeper.
Something that made his body feel hollow.
His heartbeat slowed.
His vision darkened.
The Golden Tyrant spoke.
"Kneel."
Aarav's muscles spasmed.
His body wanted to collapse.
His limbs trembled.
The weight was crushing.
But then—he laughed.
A weak, hoarse chuckle.
"You keep saying that."
The Golden Tyrant frowned slightly.
Aarav clenched his fists.
The golden chains rattled.
His blood boiled.
The mark on his skin flared.
Something ancient. Primal.
A voice—not his own—whispered in the depths of his mind.
"Do you wish to break?"
Aarav didn't hesitate.
"No."
Then fight.
The chains cracked further.
The Golden Tyrant's gaze sharpened.
Aarav moved.
Chains snapped like brittle glass. A shockwave tore through the air.
The Golden Tyrant took a step forward—but Aarav was already in front of him.
A fist burned with raw force.
He swung.
Contact.
A single punch landed against the Golden Tyrant's chest.
And for the first time—the man staggered.
The arena shook.
The sky rippled.
Aarav stood tall.
Breathing heavy. Body broken.
But still standing.
The Golden Tyrant exhaled.
And then—he smiled.
"Interesting."
---