"Glory isn't born in light—it's carved in blood."
The arena trembled beneath the roar of thousands, each voice a beast, each chant a war cry. The Dome of Ashvattha was alive—craving violence, exalting gods, and bearing witness to legends in the making.
Aarav stood on the blackened sand, chest bare, blood slick across his side where yesterday's fight had split him open. The Divine Mark on his shoulder shimmered faintly beneath the twilight sky, no longer quiet but humming with a restless hunger.
Across from him, his opponent emerged.
Bhimasura, the Mountainbreaker.
Seven feet of coiled destruction. A demigod born of a cursed lineage, flesh carved like granite, eyes hollow as grave pits. His Divine Mark burned crimson, a jagged symbol of Mahā-Krodha, the Deity of Wrath.
The announcer's voice cut the air like a blade.
> "Match Thirty-One. Aarav Sen, the Rogue of Kashi—versus Bhimasura, Son of the Devastation Lineage."
A hush fell. Then—BOOM.
Bhimasura charged like a collapsing hill. Aarav dodged left, sand exploding beneath him. He twisted mid-air and brought his heel down toward the giant's neck.
A palm caught his ankle.
CRACK.
Pain lanced up his leg as Bhimasura swung him like a weapon and slammed him into the ground. Stone split. Bones threatened to. Aarav coughed blood.
"You will not rise," Bhimasura said. His voice was deep. Distant. As if it belonged to an earthquake.
Aarav grinned with blood in his teeth. "Then you don't know how many times I've already fallen."
He thrust his palm out. The Divine Mark pulsed.
Flash.
The ground ignited. Threads of spectral energy burst upward like vines, binding Bhimasura's leg. Aarav used the distraction, pushing off the cracked earth with a roar and slamming his elbow into the giant's throat.
The crowd lost it.
> "When monsters face monsters… only gods decide the victor."
Bhimasura growled, grabbing Aarav by the throat. "No tricks. No light. Just bone."
He lifted him—and shattered Aarav's shoulder against his knee.
AGHH—
The world became red.
Aarav's vision blurred. He spat. Coughed. Laughed.
And then—the Mark screamed.
Like a storm finally breaking.
The veins across his arm glowed gold. Not just his. Another force bled into him—Ashvatha's memory. The God Tree's whisper echoed through his core:
> "Pain is the key. Open the gate."
He let it in.
The mark exploded with light.
And Aarav changed.
His body surged with divine current, speed amplified, agony forgotten. The next strike was a blur—Aarav's fist drove into Bhimasura's ribs with such force that the shockwave rippled across the arena wall, cracking the ancient obsidian stone.
Bhimasura staggered.
And Aarav didn't stop.
> "This is for every god who watched in silence. For every soul broken in chains."
He drove his fist again.
CRACK.
Ribs caved.
THUD.
Knee to jaw.
SLAM.
Palm to chest—Bhimasura was lifted off the ground, air erupting from his lungs.
And then…
Silence.
Aarav stood over the fallen titan. His body trembled. His aura raged.
The judge didn't even need to speak.
The crowd, silent for a moment, erupted like a volcano.
> "The Rogue of Kashi has broken the Mountain!"
Blood. Bruises. Broken bones. But Aarav stood. Breathing. Alive.
The Divine Mark dimmed, as if satisfied.
And in the corner, behind shadows and glass—
The Keepers watched.
One of them leaned forward. "He's awakening too fast."
Another whispered, "Let him. The deeper he goes, the louder the gods will scream."
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