Morning sunlight spilled across Veylorn, gilding the rooftops in pale fire. From the guildhall balcony, Kael watched the streets below churn with whispers and eyes that lingered too long.
Since the night in the catacombs, his name had grown sharper, heavier. Some spoke it with awe, others with fear. And some—like the Council—spoke it with malice.
Selene entered, her face pale. "Master… a summons. The Council demands your presence in the Forum. They say if you refuse, they'll brand you an outlaw."
Nyra growled low, her claws flexing. "Let them try."
Kael took the scroll, unrolling it. Gold seal. Formal lettering. Veiled threat.
He smirked. "So the kings of coin want to test me." His eyes gleamed with hunger. "Good."
---
The Forum of Chains was a vast amphitheater at the city's heart, built of marble stained with blood. Merchants, nobles, and mercenaries crowded its steps, the stench of perfume mixing with sweat and steel.
At the highest dais sat the Council—seven figures cloaked in silks, each heavy with jewels and smugness. Their voices ruled the city, their coin bought armies.
And today, they wanted Kael broken.
He strode into the arena with Nyra and Selene at his sides, Aurelia trailing in crimson silks. Gasps rippled through the crowd at his presence.
"That's him…"
"The Slave Guild's conqueror."
"Too bold. He won't leave here alive."
A Councilor rose, his belly round, his rings gleaming. "Kael Draven. You have disrupted order. Seized power not yours to claim. By law, your life belongs to us. Kneel, and we may yet show mercy."
Kael laughed. The sound echoed through the arena, sharp and mocking. "Kneel? To fat merchants who hide behind guards and gold? I kneel to no one."
Gasps. Murmurs.
The Councilor's face purpled. "Then prove your worth in the old way. Trial by combat."
The crowd roared approval. The Forum loved blood more than words.
---
From a gate at the far end, chains rattled. A massive figure emerged. Seven feet of muscle wrapped in iron, a great axe resting on his shoulder. Scars crisscrossed his body, his eyes burning with mindless fury.
"The Council's Champion," Selene whispered. "They call him Rothgar the Unbroken. He's killed a hundred men in this arena."
Kael's smile sharpened. "Then today, he dies to one more."
---
The horn sounded.
Rothgar charged like a beast unleashed, his axe whistling through the air. Kael ducked, chains flashing to catch the blade—but the impact jarred his arms to the bone, nearly shattering them.
The giant bellowed, kicking Kael across the sand. Blood sprayed from his lips as he rolled, his wounds screaming.
The crowd roared. "Rothgar! Rothgar!"
Nyra snarled, trying to leap into the arena, but guards held her back. Selene gripped the bars, her knuckles white.
Kael staggered to his feet, blood dripping from his chin. The Champion charged again.
Kael's chains lashed out, wrapping Rothgar's limbs. The brute strained—and the chains snapped like twine.
The axe came down. Kael twisted aside, but not fast enough. The blade split his shoulder open, crimson spraying across the sand.
Pain. Blinding, raw pain. His knees buckled.
The system's voice thundered in his skull.
[Mortal Danger Detected.]
[Evolution Threshold Approaching.]
[Will you Submit… or Ascend?]
Kael roared, dragging power from the pit of his desire, his rage, his lust for survival. His aura exploded outward, crimson fire flooding the arena.
Chains burst from the sand, sharper, darker, binding Rothgar's limbs with a scream of iron. The Champion fought, straining, muscles bulging—but Kael's aura crushed him, bleeding strength from his body, feeding it into Kael's veins.
With a savage cry, Kael wrenched the axe from Rothgar's hands and drove it into his chest.
The giant's scream echoed through the Forum before it cut off in a wet gurgle. Blood spilled, and the Champion fell.
Silence. Then an eruption of cheers, fear, awe.
Kael stood, bloodied, broken, but alive. His aura flared, wrapping the arena in suffocating lust and dominance.
The Councilor who had spoken earlier paled, sweat dripping down his brow.
Kael pointed the bloodied axe at them. "You wanted proof of my worth? Consider it given. This city does not own me. I will own it."
The crowd roared. The Council sat frozen.
---
But in the shadows of the Forum, Kael's eyes caught movement.
A figure cloaked in black, a serpent mask glinting faintly in the torchlight. Watching. Waiting.
The Serpent Cult.
Kael's lips curled into a cold smile. "Let them come."
The city was his battlefield now. Council above, cult below. And Kael Draven stood between them—bleeding, burning, and unbroken.