Seth's legs kicked the ground with explosive power, propelling him forward. Ahead, the Rogue's cruel smile faltered, replaced by a deep frown. "Is he dumb?" he muttered, watching Seth charge directly toward the ward covering the ring.
The moment Seth's foot crossed the line, pain erupted through his body. It was a clean, transfixing agony, as if thousands of blazing swords had slashed every single one of his nerves, reminding him of the pain during Kreytorus' trial back when he had learned Link.
Without an ounce of hesitation, he completely surrendered himself to his inner beast. Fighting the Barbarian Gnoll in the Desert of Misery, being scorched alive thousands of times by the One-horned Imp, getting crushed another thousand more by the Skeleton Knight; pushing his body to the very brink of its limits was part of his Path.
Pain wasn't something that could stop him.
Driven by both rage from his heart and the fury of his core, Seth closed the distance in just a few strides. The Rogue's eyes went wide as he jerked his dagger down toward Elena's neck.
But in a flash, aether surged through Mantle of Terror inside Seth's Well. He extracted every single ounce of Darkness from his surroundings and pushed all of it into the spell. Within his teardrop, Nightmare dug his claws into the teardrop's domain's ground and joined him, driving some of his own aether into the straining grooves through Link.
An aura of extreme bloodlust exploded outward. The physical wave of pure dread enveloped the Rogue in a suffocating grasp. The combatant of the empire froze. His dagger halted inches away from Elena's throat.
Before he could even twitch, Seth was there.
His gauntlet crashed into the Rogue's face, snapping his head to the side. The from the combatant’s left cheek barely had time to resonate that the right one was crushed by Seth’s other fist. The Rogue's knees buckled, and his body went limp, but Seth grabbed him by the neck to hold him upright and drove his gauntlet into his opponent's gut. Another blow followed, smashing his chin from underneath and rattling his teeth.
The Rogue stumbled backward. Two more punches came and ate the last shred of his protective barrier. The azure layer vanished in wisps—yet it didn't matter.
Seth lunged again and rammed his fist into the Rogue's face. A wet, sickening tore through the silent arena as the young man's nose shattered beneath the gauntlet. The impact hurled him a few yards away, causing him to crash against the arena's white sand.
Fueled by the energy of his core, Seth rushed forward despite the intense pain. He was prepared to pounce at the fallen Rogue. To finish him. To him.
Ahead, the other Bridani combatants finally stirred, but a wave of fear washed over them—all color drained from their faces, and their bodies locked into place, courtesy of Mantle of Terror and its suffocating presence.
The moment Seth was about to leap, something appeared on the corner of his vision: a dagger flashing toward his neck.
Instinct took over, and Iron Fist's rock surged around his gauntlet as Seth raised his arm to block the blade. A sharp of steel on stone resonated and the owner of the weapon, the Dark Assassin Kaelen, stepped back, a hint of surprise flickering in his dark eyes.
The ward still flooded every fiber of Seth's body with agonizing pain, causing him to roar the moment he charged forward.
Seth's rock-clad fist flew toward the Rank-60 Dark assassin. The frail-looking combatant moved to the side, his body fading and leaving an illusory afterimage behind—but Seth's instincts were heightened like never before.
In a blink, he twisted his torso and changed the course of his punch. Iron Fist slammed into Kaelen's upper chest with tremendous force, launching him into the air. The moment the Dark Assassin hit the arena's floor a dozen feet away, he sprang back to his feet. A flicker of anger finally broke through the stoic mask that served as his face.
Yet before he could run back toward Seth, a voice boomed across the coliseum.
"Enough."
The empress was on her feet, standing barely a foot behind the rail that separated the upper platform from the arena below.
Seth's mind was still a white-hot cloud of rage, but his body was anchored in place by an invisible force. From up there, the empress glared at Kaelen. "Neophyte of the Black Reapers," she said, her voice cold as frozen steel. "Return with the others."
The woman's gaze then snapped to Seth, and obvious contempt appeared on her face. "How impudent of you to throw this little act of yours. You are lucky we already concluded our discussions. If we hadn't, I would have you executed for this."
The woman turned slightly to face the Oracle Snake, which was still in the arena. "Xylos. Come. We are leaving."
Yet the massive legless reptile did not obey and instead turned its white head toward Seth. An instant later, its mesmerizing, purple eyes glowed with an intense light.
Seth's heart skipped a beat, and in a split second he let the wild, untamed energy of his core take over his mind—to hide everything. Nightmare, Link, all his secrets. All of it.
The ward's searing pain still tore through him, but now it only fed the burning rage of Feral Instinct. Hot blood dripped from his green eyes as he locked his gaze on the empress, who now frowned at the defiant snake. Seth's core roared within him and flooded his limbs, urging his body to fight the invisible weight pressing on him.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
To break free and thrive. Again. And again.
The Oracle Snake hissed, and its forked tongue flickered while its aether voice shared the unfiltered thoughts inside Seth's mind.
"Hsssssss. Stepping stone… You are nothing more than a stepping stone. I'll crush you and rise to the top… I am the predator. You are the prey."
A heavy silence fell over the entire coliseum, and for a moment, the sound of a single falling coin would have rung out like a giant bell. Then, the air around the empress ignited. Her expression twisted into one of cold fury as she raised a hand, a spear of brilliant, royal blue flame surging in her palm.
In the stands, Orwen and Drack shot to their feet, yet before they could even move, the man in plate armor next to the empress spoke with a voice that cut through the air:
"It is against the laws and the war amendments of the NEVAK to kill any citizen of the opposing nation outside of the Warfare Rifts during the first eighteen months of conflict. If you kill this Primalist, Empress Freydis, there will be reprisal."
The empress' jaw clenched and a muscle twitched in her cheek. For a long, tense moment, the spear of blue fire burned in her hand, threatening to scorch Seth alive. A few seconds later it finally vanished, and the woman vigorously spun on her heel. "Xylos! Come!"
This time, the snake obeyed. The glow in its eyes faded, and it slithered across the arena floor, flowing up the marble wall to reach the platform just as the empress disappeared into one of the coliseum's corridors.
The supervisor from the Bridan Empire lifted his hand, and the oppressive ward covering the ring finally vanished. The pain filling Seth's body abated instantly. Every muscle urged him to drop to the ground, but this was not the moment to show weakness. Feeling Seth's will through Link, Colossus and Nightmare sent a steady stream of aether his way.
The scarred woman, Floria, helped the Rank-40 Rogue to his feet. He was clenching his face, blood dripping freely from his broken nose and mouth. The moment their supervisor waved for them to leave with him, the young man glared at Seth. "We will see each other in the Warfare Rifts."
Seth raised a hand and clenched it into a fist. "And I'll kill you there."
The Rogue's eyes widened, but before he could retort anything further, Floria turned and forced him to follow as she half-dragged him away. The Dark Assassin, Kaelen, was the last to leave. He paused, staring at Seth for several seconds, their gaze meeting from across the arena. Then the frail youngster silently walked away.
A soft hand grabbed Seth's wrist, causing him to glance back. Elena had just risen to her feet and was right behind him. "You didn't have to interve—" she began before stopping mid-sentence, her gaze locking onto his face. "Seth, there's blood coming from your… eyes."
Seth wiped off his cheeks with the lower part of his palm, careful to avoid the hard steel of his gauntlet. To his surprise, his hand came away smeared with red. "It's nothing."
He spotted Director Cranner in the distance behind the noblewoman. The man's face—which had been almost always devoid of emotion before—seemed to be contorted by both anger and . Beyond him, on the royal platform, King Theron was looking down at Seth with the same mixture of emotions.
He didn't need the Oracle Snake to know the men's thoughts.
Seth had obviously made a strong impression for Kastal—but he had also openly challenged the sovereign of another nation. On top of that, as a commoner he had proven himself to be stronger than most of the nobles standing beside him. And to make matters worse, he had done it while using a fighting style that was but elegant.
The king turned and said something to the NEVAK representatives. Almost simultaneously a loud horn rang through the arena, followed by an announcer declaring the end of the exhibition matches. The sparse crowd in the stands immediately began to disperse, their conversations drifting through the vast coliseum like a fading murmur.
Elena's gaze dropped to Seth's hands, and she examined the gray stone of Iron Fists still encasing his gauntlets. "Since when do you have an Earth affinity?"
Seth's green eyes widened. With a thought, he let the spell dissolve into dust. "Umm... it suddenly appeared after coming back from the Desert of Misery," he lied, the excuse feeling flimsy as soon as it left his lips. "I talked with Professor Storm, and she said she's never seen anything like it… But it could be something unique to Primalists. Like a way to adapt and survive certain environments."
Elena's expression made it clear she didn't buy it, just like she hadn't bought any of his other lies, yet before she could say it, a loud, cheerful voice boomed from the arena's entrance.
"Hey, kid!"
Seth turned to see Orwen striding toward him with a wide grin on his face. Drack, Lyria, Krystel, Toren, and Professor Reat were right behind the man, along with three other people Seth had never seen before. The only ones missing were Yline and Handrik, the branch's Enchanter. They had likely stayed behind in Trogan because they were busy crafting or selling goods.
One of the newcomers was a woman with blue eyes and a chestplate of leather so dark it was almost absorbing all light from around her; another was a mountain of a man with short-cropped hair in plate armor that rivaled Drack in terms of size. The last was a lean, bald archer with a longbow slung over his back.
"This is Zyana, Alexis, and Nidal," Orwen said, gesturing toward the three new faces. "They run the Oskon headquarters of the Champions of Chaos."
The woman in the leather armor, Zyana, gave Seth a scrutinizing look. "Orwen and Celine have told us good things about you… and you've clearly lived up to the reputation."
The large man, Alexis, nodded. "Solid performance out there."
Nidal scratched his forehead beside him. "It'd say it was a bit too bestial to my taste and also quite… bold."
Orwen laughed and clapped Professor Reat's back. "Calvin finally got us a recruit with guts! The kid clearly fears no one!"
"But he should!" Lyria chimed in, shaking her head in disbelief. "Telling the empress of the Bridan Empire that she's your stepping stone, Seth… that's… I don't have a word for how stupid that was!"
Seth rubbed his neck sheepishly. Letting his inner beast speak had been intentional, but the words that followed hadn’t been. "I was acting on pure instinct with all the pain."
"Yeah, we saw that," Orwen answered with a chuckle. "You were roaring like a beast."
Zyana, the blue-eyed woman, frowned and looked at Seth. "I have to know, how did you fight through an Agonizing Ward? I only know a handful of Silver Wielders who can remain conscious in one for such a long time inside… that's a first for an Iron."
Seth's mouth twisted awkwardly to the side. "Well… pain is basically a friend when you're a Primalist."
"I know a lot of Iron Primalists," the woman immediately retorted. "None could have done that."
Before Seth could come up with another lie, Elena spotted her parents approaching and walked over to meet them. Krystel, the Priest of the Champions of Chaos, watched her go, then turned to Seth.
"Yeah," she said, a knowing smile materializing on her face. "But I don't think those Primalists had such a beautiful motivation."
Seth grimaced, slightly relieved by the change of topic, as Lyria and Zyana exchanged glances and Orwen laughed once again. "Alright, enough talking! Let's go get an ale to celebrate Seth's crushing victory!" The leader of the branch winked at Seth. "Besides that, we can't stay around here for too long. That potion of yours won't last forever."
Seth nodded. As the adrenaline finally began to fade and left a bone-deep exhaustion taking its place, he followed the Champions of Chaos out of the arena. Just before he walked through the large archway to exit, he glanced one last time at the stands, then at the two empty stone chairs on the royal platform.
The brief exchange between the sovereigns had likely sealed everything; the rewards had been decided, which Seth knew would be the Legacies. The empress wanted them reclaimed. The king wanted to keep them. But neither would personally bleed for them. Not a drop.
The pawns—himself, Elena, Jenna, Devus, Henry, Selena, students of the academies, Adventurers, soldiers of the army—would all be the ones thrown into the Warfare Rifts. They would be the ones to fight and die while the empress and the king remained safe, throwing feasts and celebrations in their luxurious palaces.
Both nations were truly rotten to their cores.
(NOT UPDATED, will do once he cast Identify):
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Thank you so much for reading!
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21 25!! advanced chapters on !