Arc 1 – Sands and Steel

  Chapter 12

  Eren stepped forward and pushed the reinforced door open.

  It groaned once.

  Then silence.

  He stepped inside.

  Rows of weapon racks lined the walls—rifles, blades, ammunition crates stacked with careless greed.

  He allowed himself the faintest nod.

  “Seems I was right.”

  But the room was more than an armoury.

  On the left side stood a long metal table bolted to the floor.

  Chains hung from the ceiling above it.

  Hooks.

  Pliers.

  Branding irons.

  Saw blades laid out neatly like surgical instruments.

  Dark stains soaked deep into the metal surface.

  Some fresh.

  Some old enough to have turned black.

  The smell was worse here.

  Blood.

  Rotting blood pooled in the corner drain, thick and clotted.

  Eren’s expression didn’t change.

  He moved past it.

  Near a crate shoved against the far wall, something familiar caught his eye.

  A long, heavy coat.

  Dark.

  Reinforced.

  Avelin’s.

  He picked it up and shook the dust from it.

  “Thought you’d look naked without this,” he muttered.

  He slung it over his shoulder and continued scanning.

  His own blades were stored carelessly inside a wooden chest, tied together with rope.

  He cut the rope, lifted one sword—

  Balanced it once in his palm.

  Satisfied.

  He sheathed both across his back.

  Then he turned toward another table.

  And paused.

  “How many weapons does she even carry?”

  Two daggers.

  A compact taser.

  A folding knife tucked inside a small leather wrap.

  Another thin blade hidden in what looked like a hairpin.

  He stared at the pile for a second.

  “She’s not paranoid,” he muttered. “She’s a travelling arsenal.”

  He gathered everything quickly, efficient and precise.

  Then—

  Footsteps.

  Multiple.

  Heavy.

  Voices echoing faintly from deeper within the structure.

  Eren froze for half a breath, then moved.

  Not toward them.

  Away.

  He slipped out of the armoury just as shadows stretched across the far end of the corridor. Two guards rounded the corner—another three behind them.

  Too many.

  Eren lowered his profile and sprinted back the way he came, boots barely whispering against the stone.

  If they reached the prison room first—

  No.

  He accelerated.

  ---

  By the time he turned the final corner, the prison chamber was no longer silent.

  The cages stood open.

  Every single one.

  Prisoners spilled into the cavern like a shaken hive—children clinging to strangers, women supporting the weak, chains dragging across the floor.

  Avelin stood in the middle of it all, calm in the chaos.

  She looked up as he approached.

  “Took you long enough.”

  Eren tossed her coat.

  She caught it mid-air and slipped into it without breaking eye contact.

  Then he handed her the pile of weapons.

  One dagger.

  Second dagger.

  Knife.

  Taser.

  She strapped them on with mechanical familiarity.

  He stared at her for a second.

  Eren scanned the room. “Silas.”

  Avelin jerked her thumb toward the corner.

  Silas was slumped against the wall again.

  Still unconscious.

  Blood trickled steadily from his nose.

  Eren raised an eyebrow.

  “I tried waking him up,” Avelin said flatly. “He wouldn’t respond.”

  “You broke his nose.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “He still didn’t wake up.”

  Eren crouched beside the merchant and lightly slapped his cheek once.

  Nothing.

  He stood.

  “And his sister?”

  Avelin’s expression shifted.

  “I checked every cell,” she said. “Every face.”

  Silence.

  “I didn’t find her.”

  The noise of freed prisoners filled the space behind them.

  Whispers.

  Panic.

  Hope.

  And somewhere deeper in the tunnels—

  Boots.

  Closer now.

  Eren’s jaw tightened slightly.

  “They’re coming,” he said.

  Avelin nodded once.

  “What’s the call?”

  Eren looked at the dozens of freed captives.

  Then at the corridor.

  Then back at Silas.

  And for the first time since waking up—

  He hesitated.

  Eren looked at Avelin.

  “Take them through the sewer exit,” he said calmly.

  “And you?”

  “I’ll slow them down.”

  That wasn’t what he meant.

  But it was enough.

  Avelin studied him for one second.

  Then nodded.

  “Move!” she barked at the prisoners.

  The chamber shifted into motion—feet scrambling, chains dragging, bodies supporting bodies. Within seconds the mass began flowing toward the sewer passage at the far end.

  Eren stepped to the prison entrance.

  Drew both swords.

  Steel whispered against steel.

  He stood still.

  Footsteps grew louder.

  Six sets.

  Confident.

  Rushing.

  The first guard rounded the corner—

  Then froze.

  Eren tilted his head slightly.

  “There’s more of you now, huh.”

  The six men spread into a loose semicircle at the corridor mouth. Two rifles. Three spears. One heavier build with a cleaver strapped to his back.

  “Drop the weapons!” one shouted.

  Eren didn’t move.

  The first rifle fired.

  Eren stepped.

  Not backward.

  Forward—diagonal.

  The bullet sparked off stone where he had been a breath earlier. In the same motion, his right blade flicked outward—

  Not a slash.

  A tap.

  The flat of his sword struck the rifle barrel, redirecting the second shot into the ceiling.

  Before the gunman could recover, Eren rotated inside his reach and cut once.

  Short.

  Horizontal.

  The man’s throat opened cleanly.

  He collapsed without finishing his breath.

  Five left.

  The spear line advanced together.

  Better trained.

  Eren watched their feet.

  Not their weapons.

  The first thrust came high.

  He pivoted, letting the spear slide along his shoulder guard, guiding it past him. His left blade came down—not at the man—

  At the shaft.

  Clean cut.

  The spear tip clattered uselessly behind him.

  He stepped into the guard’s space and drove the pommel of his sword into the man’s temple.

  Bone cracked.

  The body folded.

  Four.

  The second spear came low, aiming for his thigh.

  Eren jumped—not high, just enough. The blade of his right sword hooked the wooden shaft mid-air, twisting it downward. His left sword followed immediately—

  Upward diagonal.

  The cut split from hip to rib.

  The guard dropped, spilling red across the stone.

  Three.

  A rifle fired again.

  This one grazed his upper arm.

  Eren didn’t react.

  He accelerated.

  Closing distance erased advantage.

  The rifleman tried to backpedal.

  Too slow.

  Eren’s right sword struck the weapon aside. His left thrust forward—

  Straight through the man’s sternum.

  He pulled the blade free as the body fell.

  Two.

  The large one with the cleaver roared and charged.

  Finally.

  Eren shifted his stance.

  Lower.

  Balanced.

  The cleaver swung wide and brutal—meant to overpower.

  Eren didn’t block.

  He entered.

  Inside the arc.

  His shoulder slammed into the man’s chest as his right blade carved across the man’s inner arm, severing muscle. The cleaver dropped.

  Eren rotated behind him in one smooth step and dragged his second blade across the back of his knees.

  The big man collapsed forward.

  Eren finished him with a single downward thrust to the spine.

  One left.

  The last guard stood frozen.

  Spear trembling in his hands.

  “P-please—”

  Eren walked toward him.

  Calm.

  Measured.

  “You ran toward gunfire,” Eren said quietly. “That was your first mistake.”

  The spear lunged in panic.

  Eren sidestepped.

  His blade traced a thin line across the man’s wrist.

  The spear fell.

  The second sword followed—

  Precise.

  Clean.

  The guard crumpled.

  Silence returned to the corridor.

  Six bodies.

  Blood ran slowly toward the prison chamber.

  Eren looked at the bodies once.

  Then away.

  “I should catch up with the others.”

  He wiped one blade against a fallen guard’s sleeve and began walking toward the sewer passage.

  Calm.

  Unhurried.

  Halfway across the prison chamber—

  He stopped.

  Silas.

  Still slumped against the wall.

  Still unconscious.

  Eren stared at him.

  “…She forgot to carry him.”

  A brief silence.

  Then a quiet exhale.

  “Unbelievable.”

  He sheathed one sword, stepped over, and hoisted Silas over his shoulder like dead weight. The merchant’s head lolled uselessly against his back.

  “Wake up at least once in your life,” Eren muttered.

  No response.

  Of course.

  Carrying him one-handed, blade still in his free hand, Eren moved toward the exit corridor.

  The prison chamber gave way to the larger hall.

  The echo of distant voices grew louder.

  Not panic.

  Not chaos.

  Something else.

  Laughter.

  Low.

  Distorted.

  Wrong.

  He stepped through the archway into the throne room—

  And froze.

  The sewer exit was cut off.

  All the freed prisoners stood in the center of the chamber, tightly circled by guards. Spears pointed inward. Rifles aimed at backs and heads. No openings. No hesitation.

  Children were crying.

  No one dared move.

  On the raised platform before the throne—

  The tyrant stood.

  He held Avelin suspended slightly off the ground.

  Both her wrists were pinned together in one of his massive hands.

  Just one.

  Her arms stretched upward, trapped easily in his grip.

  Her boots barely touched the stone.

  Her weapons were gone.

  Blood marked the corner of her mouth.

  The tyrant didn’t notice Eren.

  He wasn’t looking at the prisoners.

  He wasn’t giving orders.

  He was laughing.

  Slow.

  Creeping.

  Unhinged.

  The sound rolled across the chamber walls like something crawling.

  And it didn’t stop.

  The laughter kept echoing.

  Something inside Eren shifted.

  Not panic.

  Not fear.

  Heat.

  Slow. Rising. Violent.

  His jaw tightened.

  Carefully—quietly—he lowered Silas to the stone floor against the wall.

  The merchant slid down limply.

  Eren didn’t look at him again.

  He sheathed the shorter blade.

  His hand wrapped around the hilt of the longer sword.

  The tyrant was still laughing.

  Still unaware.

  Eren moved.

  No warning.

  No words.

  One step—

  Then he vanished from where he stood.

  Boot met stone.

  Stone cracked beneath the force.

  By the time the nearest guard turned—

  Eren was already airborne.

  A single clean arc of steel cut through the torchlight.

  The tyrant’s laughter stopped.

  For half a breath, nothing happened.

  Then—

  Both of his arms fell.

  Cleanly severed at the shoulders.

  They hit the stone with a heavy, wet impact.

  Blood erupted outward in a violent spray.

  Avelin dropped from his grasp and collapsed to the ground below.

  Unmoving.

  The tyrant staggered back—

  A sound tore from his throat.

  Not pain.

  Rage.

  A guttural, animalistic roar that shook the chamber.

  Guards panicked.

  Some stepped back.

  Some raised their weapons too late.

  Eren landed between the tyrant and the prisoners.

  Long blade resting at his side.

  Blood sliding slowly down its edge.

  His eyes lifted.

  And what stared back at the tyrant—

  Was not calm anymore.

  It was fury.

  Cold.

  Focused.

  Unforgiving.