The first thing Caesar noticed about Greyhold was the silence.
Not the natural kind—the wind, the waves, the calls of distant birds. This was the silence of restraint. Of eyes watching from behind slats. Of breath held behind bolted doors. A silence enforced by fear.
The trio stood at the edge of the arrival platform, just outside a black stone arch etched with the words:
> "Here, lies break before bodies."
Beyond it stretched a city built into the slope of a sheer cliff, its buildings fastened together by iron beams and anchored in chains that reached into the mist above. Every rooftop was a blade. Every alley, a trap.
Caesar stepped forward. The moment his foot touched the cobbled path, a cold sensation crawled down his spine.
Jack's voice was low. "I don't like this place."
Leo winced, leaning slightly on Jack's shoulder. His arm was bandaged from the damage his unstable card had inflicted. "Feels like a prison inside the prison."
Caesar agreed. "Let's find out the rules here before we step on another card trap."
---
A Welcome of Sorts
As they entered the city's outer ring, a group of figures emerged from the mist—dressed in gray cloaks, faces covered in emotionless masks. They moved in sync, silent and eerie.
At their center stood a man with sharp silver eyes, wearing a long coat sewn from different fabrics, like a patchwork. His hair was black, streaked with white at the temples, and a thin smile curved his lips.
"I thought you'd arrive today," he said. "The Ascension Trial always spits the survivors out around dawn. You must be Caesar."
Caesar didn't reply immediately. "And you are?"
The man gave a shallow bow. "Name's Mire. I act as the intermediary here. Greyhold doesn't believe in open war, so we prefer… psychological confrontation."
Jack raised a brow. "Mind games?"
Mire grinned. "Let's say… illusions. Manipulations. Challenges of the soul." He turned, gesturing toward the inner city. "Greyhold is divided into Circles. Each Circle tests a different aspect of control. You must pass through three to be considered for an audience with the Warden."
Leo groaned. "A city with boss fights. Lovely."
Mire ignored the sarcasm. "Each Circle has its own master. Beat them in a duel—on their terms—and you earn the right to climb. But remember…" His voice dropped.
> "Here, the cards attack your mind as much as your body."
He tossed a deck toward Caesar. It wasn't Caesar's deck—but a new set of cards, colorless and thin as silk.
"Your normal decks won't function in the first Circle," Mire explained. "You'll be using Mirror Cards—your abilities inverted, refracted, distorted."
Caesar's jaw tightened. "And if we refuse?"
Mire's smile widened.
"No one refuses Greyhold. They only vanish in it."
---
The First Circle: The Hall of Mirrors
They followed Mire deeper into the city, through narrow alleys where shadows moved against the walls but never took shape. The Hall of Mirrors was a circular structure, sunk into the stone like an eye into a skull. Its walls were made of obsidian glass, each reflecting not light—but memories.
At the entrance stood a woman in black robes, face veiled, holding a single card.
"The Duelist of Reflection," Mire whispered. "She tests identity."
The woman spoke. "One must enter. One must watch. One must forget."
Her voice was flat, inhuman. The rules glowed in runes above the door:
> One duelist enters alone.
One companion watches through the mirror.
One companion is forgotten—temporarily removed from memory, perspective, and record for the duration of the trial.
Jack raised a hand. "I'll take 'watch.' I've got good pattern recognition."
Leo glanced at Caesar. "Guess that makes me the ghost."
He said it casually—but Caesar noticed the hesitation in his eyes.
Caesar nodded. "I'll duel."
---
The Mirror Duel
Inside the Hall, Caesar faced his own reflection—only it wasn't just him. It was him twisted. The reflection sneered, holding the same cards, only inverted.
> Caesar's "Phantom Step" became "Shadow Linger"—leaving him vulnerable after teleport.
His "Hollow Maw" card had split into "Jaw of the Past"—which summoned images of old trauma rather than dealing damage.
The duel began.
The reflection attacked first, triggering "Memory Pierce"—and suddenly Caesar was reliving the moment his mother was dragged from their home by masked guards, her screams swallowed by the night.
He staggered. The illusion felt real.
Through the mirror, Jack watched, his hands gripping the railing. "He's bleeding memories."
On the other side, Leo—now forgotten—stood in a gray limbo, unable to interact. He watched shadows of his friends flicker like ghosts.
Caesar fought back—not with strength, but focus. He remembered Mire's words: "Here, cards test the soul."
He used "Shadow Linger" to bait the reflection, letting his echo fall behind while he moved wide. Then, activating "Jaw of the Past," he turned his trauma into weaponized illusions—projecting them onto the reflection.
His mirror self hesitated. The illusion stuttered.
Caesar launched a final card: "Thread Severance"—a risky Mirror Card that disconnected the reflection from the source memory.
The duel ended with the reflection breaking like glass.
The Hall went still.
---
The Reward
Outside, Leo snapped back into memory, gasping as though surfacing from deep water.
"Holy hell," he muttered. "That was creepy."
Jack helped him up. "You were gone. Like… really gone."
Mire appeared at the top of the stairs, applauding lightly. "Well done. Very few pass the first Circle their first try. Your prize—"
A card floated down toward Caesar.
Card Gained: "Inverted Truth"
Force an opponent to reveal the real cost of their most powerful card.
Caesar took it silently. The duel had rattled him more than he let on.
Mire motioned toward the rising slope of the city. "The second Circle awaits. But be warned—it doesn't test identity. It tests trust."
---
The Second Circle: The Web of Wills
The Web of Wills wasn't a building, but a plaza woven with crisscrossing lines of light. Floating nodes hovered above pedestals, each containing a duel condition and a penalty for betrayal.
As they entered, a voice rang out—not a Warden, but another challenger.
A boy, maybe sixteen, with white hair and dark gloves. His deck shimmered in eerie green.
"New faces?" he said. "Perfect. I need sparring partners."
He tossed them each a small card—a pact shard.
"We duel," he said. "Two-on-two. But the twist? Each of us must bind ourselves to a pact condition. If you break it, you lose your mind for a minute."
Jack blinked. "What kind of conditions?"
The boy grinned. "Things like: Don't lie. Don't defend a teammate. Don't speak."
A screen formed above the Web, listing potential pacts.
Each player had to pick two.
Caesar took:
Don't defend a teammate.
Don't use cards from memory.
Leo took:
Don't speak.
Don't move first.
Jack took:
Don't lie.
Don't disable opponents.
The boy, meanwhile, picked unknown ones—his face never changing.
The duel began.
---
The Game of Rules
Immediately, Caesar found himself hesitating. Leo took a hit—he wanted to block, to defend, but his pact flared red with warning.
Jack shouted, "Behind you!"—and then cursed. His second pact activated. He'd spoken, but it had required truth. And that had exposed his true health count to the enemy.
The boy smiled wider. "This is why I love Greyhold."
The fight became a chessboard of self-restraint. Every move had to be triple-checked. Every instinct suppressed.
But Caesar noticed something—the boy never seemed to be penalized. Not once.
Which meant...
"Jack," Caesar muttered, "use 'Inverted Truth' on him."
Jack hesitated, then nodded—and triggered it.
The result?
A shockwave of light. The boy's face froze in horror.
> "Pact Falsehood Detected."
Penalty Applied: Mind Disruption—3 minutes.
He collapsed, convulsing.
Leo blinked. "He faked his pact?"
Mire's voice echoed again—though he wasn't there.
"In Greyhold, trust is currency. And forgery has a price."
---
Moving Forward
After the match, Caesar gained another card:
Card Gained: "Truthweaver's Oath"
Bind two targets to a visible pact. If either breaks it, the other suffers instead.
A terrifying tool.
The trio left the Circle of Trust subdued.
Two Circles down.
One remained.
---
End of Chapter 10