Chapter Ten (Part IV) — 2,500-Fold
The gravity surged again.
2,500 times.
The air thickened into something almost solid, pressing down on bone, muscle, breath. The reinforced floor groaned beneath us as the runes ignited in rapid succession, struggling to stabilize the strain.
Stone cracked.
Then healed.
Again.
Again.
I should have been crushed.
I wasn't.
Excitement flooded my veins instead.
My pupils shifted—light blue, sharp and luminous. Aura rolled off my body in tight, controlled waves, not exploding outward but clinging close, reinforcing every movement.
For the first time—
I leaned into it.
No hesitation.
No fear.
BAM!
My fist met my brother's head-on.
The shock rippled through my arm, rattling bone, but I didn't pull back.
BAM! BAM!
Kicks collided mid-air.
Elbows clashed.
Knees struck.
Every exchange was brutal and precise—skill against skill, instinct against instinct. There was no room for wasted movement under this pressure. Every step demanded intent. Every strike carried consequence.
We weren't sparring anymore.
We were testing limits.
Azharyon's smile vanished, replaced by focus.
Good.
I ducked under a sweeping kick and drove forward, shoulder-first. He twisted, countering with a downward strike that grazed my collarbone—
Pain flared.
I welcomed it.
Pain meant I was still growing.
> [System Notice]
Gravitational Stress Threshold: Exceeded
Adaptive Synchronization: Ongoing
Accessible Power Output: Stabilizing…
The world narrowed.
Sound dulled.
All that remained was motion.
Impact.
Breath.
My blood roared—not violently, not recklessly—but with clarity. Each heartbeat aligned with my movements, each pulse sharpening my control.
Azharyon slid back, boots carving trenches through stone.
His eyes widened—just a little.
"You're enjoying this," he realized.
I grinned.
Under 2,500-fold gravity—
I was alive.
And somewhere deep beneath the seals—
Something ancient watched.
Waiting.