Aarav's heartbeat was steady. Controlled.
The temple's air felt thicker now, heavier. Not with dust or heat, but with something unseen—something ancient.
The god stepped forward.
Its movements were slow, deliberate, yet each step shook the entire temple. The throne behind it pulsed like a heart, glowing in time with Aarav's own.
"You fight well." The god's voice was deep, carrying the weight of centuries. "But war is not just about strength."
Aarav clenched his fists, his knuckles still slick with the remains of the warriors he had shattered. "Then what is it about?"
The god smiled.
And then it moved.
Aarav's body reacted before his mind did.
Instinct. That was the only thing that saved him.
He dodged left—barely. A gust of wind roared past his ear as a fist the size of a boulder missed his skull by inches. The temple floor behind him shattered, stone erupting into the air.
Aarav skidded back, eyes wide. He hadn't even seen the god move.
The War God did not give him time to recover.
It was already in front of him.
Aarav raised his arms in reflex—too slow.
A backhand strike caught him in the ribs. The world tilted. His body left the ground, launched through the air like a ragdoll.
CRASH!
He smashed into a pillar, stone breaking beneath him as he coughed blood. His vision blurred, his limbs screamed in protest.
The god strolled forward. Unhurried. Unstoppable.
"A warrior does not just attack."
Aarav tried to move—his body refused.
"A warrior endures."
The god raised its foot.
Aarav forced his body to react, rolling aside just as the god stomped down. The impact shook the entire temple, cracks spiderwebbing across the floor.
Aarav barely made it to his feet before the god appeared in front of him again.
Too fast. Too strong. Too perfect.
A single strike—and it would be over.
Aarav's mind raced.
Aarav stepped in.
Instead of dodging, instead of bracing—he moved toward the strike.
The god's fist, large enough to crush a man's skull like fruit, came down like a meteor—unstoppable.
And yet—
At the last possible moment, Aarav twisted his body, shifting his weight. Not to block. Not to counter.
To redirect.
His open palm met the god's wrist, his other hand pressing against the massive forearm. He pushed sideways, using the god's own force to shift the attack away.
BOOM!
The ground behind him shattered.
The god raised an eyebrow. "Hoh?"
Aarav exhaled, sweat trickling down his temple. His body screamed at him, muscles trembling from the sheer force he had just diverted.
But it had worked.
He had survived.
Endurance was not just about taking the hit.
It was about understanding it.
About controlling it.
The god nodded slowly. "Good. You're learning."
And then, it attacked again.
This time, Aarav didn't hesitate.
He moved with the strike, flowing instead of resisting. When the god's knee came up, he twisted, letting it graze past his ribs instead of taking the full force. When an elbow came crashing down, he shifted, letting the impact slide off his shoulder.
He was still getting hit. He could feel his bones strain, his muscles burn.
But he was lasting.
And more than that—he was adapting.
The god was not invincible.
Its attacks followed a rhythm, a pattern buried beneath its raw power.
And now—Aarav could see it.
The War God grinned. "Show me."
Aarav's eyes flashed.
His muscles screamed in protest as he pushed off the ground, closing the distance.
His fist shot forward—and for the first time, the god blocked.
CRACK.
The sound of impact echoed through the temple. The god's arm trembled slightly from the force.
And then—Aarav saw it.
The War God's smile widened.
His strength wasn't enough. His speed wasn't enough.
Then what was left?
The god's fist came crashing down.
And this time—Aarav did not dodge.
The god's smile was a warning.
Aarav's fist had landed, but before he could react, a hand larger than his head snatched his wrist.
Then—
The world spun.
Aarav felt the god's grip twist, his own momentum turned against him. His feet left the ground, his body flung like a broken kite.
BOOM!
He crashed into the temple floor, the impact sending cracks racing outward. Pain exploded through his ribs, his breath caught in his throat.
Before he could recover—a shadow loomed over him.
The god's foot descended.
Aarav barely rolled aside as the ground exploded where he had just been. Chunks of stone rained down, dust filling the air.
Too fast. Too powerful.
This wasn't just a battle.
It was a lesson.
The War God's voice echoed through the chamber. "You learn quickly."
Aarav coughed, wiping blood from his lip. His vision blurred at the edges, but he pushed himself upright.
No.
He wasn't done yet.
Pain was a teacher.
And right now, he was learning.
---
The god charged.
It wasn't a lunge, nor a sprint—it was a force of nature.
Aarav had a second to react.
And in that second, he did not dodge.
He stepped in.
The god's arm came down in a devastating arc, aimed to break him.
But Aarav had seen the pattern.
Just before impact, he twisted his body—not away, but with the attack. The god's strike grazed past his ribs, missing by the smallest fraction.
Then—he struck.
A single, precise punch to the god's ribcage.
It wasn't meant to break.
It was meant to test.
The god halted.
For the first time, its expression shifted—not in anger, not in pain—but in approval.
"Good."
The god took a step back. The air in the temple changed.
Aarav exhaled sharply, his entire body trembling from exhaustion. But he stood firm.
The War God raised its hand.
The battle was over.
But the war was just beginning.
---