Raizen's heart hammered in his chest as he was shoved into the cold stone arena. The sound of steel doors clanging shut echoed through the dark chamber, sealing his fate. His body ached from the previous battle, but he pushed aside the pain, focusing on the imminent fight. He knew better than to trust the World Government's promises of justice. This was a mockery, a trial of strength disguised as a legal proceeding, a method to strip him of his humanity.
The trial was set on a vast, circular arena, its edges lined with walls of iron and steel. Above him, the cold eyes of the Justicars watched from a high, shadowed platform. The silence of the arena was deafening, broken only by the sound of the distant waves crashing against the island's shores.
Raizen stood alone in the center, the weight of the redacted files still heavy in his hands. He had fought his way through the vault, uncovered the truth, and escaped the clutches of the Justicars — only to be caught by their trap. Now, he would face the price for his defiance.
His crew was nowhere to be seen. The trial was meant to strip away their support, force him into isolation. Yet, Raizen had faced worse odds before. The fight for freedom had never been about fairness; it was about survival.
A voice boomed from above, the tone chilling in its detachment. "Raizen, son of the Crown of Shadows, you are here to stand trial for your defiance against the World Government. But first, you must prove yourself worthy of life itself. Only those who survive the trial will be granted freedom. The rest… shall be forgotten."
The crowd roared to life. The Justicars — their faces hidden behind masks — observed with impassive eyes, watching to see how the legend of Raizen would crumble before them. Raizen didn't let his gaze linger on them for too long. He knew this would not be a fair trial; it would be a spectacle, a way to break his spirit.
As if on cue, the gates on the opposite side of the arena began to grind open, revealing his first adversary — a hulking, monstrous figure, armored from head to toe in dark, jagged metal. His movements were slow but deliberate, each step shaking the ground beneath Raizen's feet. He wielded a massive hammer, the head of which was large enough to crush stone.
Raizen's breath steadied. He didn't have the luxury of hesitation.
Without a word, the giant charged, the hammer raised high. Raizen leapt into action, his instincts kicking in. He ducked beneath the swing, the air crackling with the force of the hammer as it slammed into the ground, creating a shockwave that sent dust and debris flying into the air.
Raizen's sword flashed through the haze, slicing across the giant's side. The blow was shallow, but it made its mark. The armored beast howled in pain, and the ground trembled beneath him as he swung again — faster this time.
Raizen rolled, narrowly avoiding the next swing, and pushed himself to his feet, his eyes scanning for weaknesses in the behemoth's armor. The trial had begun, but Raizen knew this wasn't just about survival. This was a message. The Justicars wanted to show him the futility of his rebellion, the futility of his existence. But Raizen wasn't about to let that happen.
With a grunt, he charged forward, using the momentum of the giant's hammer strike against him. He dodged to the side, weaving through the monster's heavy strikes, and landed a powerful blow to the joints of the armor. Sparks flew as Raizen's sword bit deep into the metal.
The giant staggered, momentarily disoriented. Raizen took advantage of the opening, delivering a final, precise strike to the giant's neck joint. The metal cracked, and the behemoth fell to the ground with a thunderous crash.
Breathing heavily, Raizen stood over the fallen body, his sword dripping with dark, oily blood. The crowd was silent, but the Justicars remained unfazed, their cold eyes locked on him. The first challenge had been met, but Raizen knew there was more to come.
As the giant's body was dragged away, a new wave of adversaries emerged from the gates. This time, it wasn't just one opponent, but a group — a team of highly trained Justicars, each armed with blades, spears, and cruel weapons designed for one purpose: to break Raizen.
The odds were stacked against him, but Raizen's mind was sharp. He couldn't afford to waste any energy. He knew the arena well, and if he could use the terrain to his advantage, he had a chance.
The first Justicar lunged at him, swinging a spear with deadly precision. Raizen blocked the attack with a swift parry, his sword ringing as it deflected the blow. He pivoted, ducked beneath the second spear, and drove his blade through the Justicar's torso. The first down.
Raizen moved like a whirlwind, his strikes calculated and merciless. The others hesitated, momentarily thrown off by his ferocity. Raizen knew that hesitation would be his greatest ally in this deadly trial. One by one, he disarmed and incapacitated his foes, moving with speed and precision that defied the expectations of the Justicars.
But just as the last Justicar fell to the ground, the ground beneath him began to rumble. A loud mechanical whirring echoed from below, and the floor of the arena split open, revealing a final adversary — a massive war machine powered by forbidden technology. It was a towering construct, its body covered in plates of thick, enchanted metal, with arms that could crush a man in seconds.
Raizen's eyes narrowed as the machine's heavy footfalls shook the ground beneath him. He had fought men, monsters, and beasts — but this was different. The odds had just escalated.
The machine's arms swung at him, and Raizen dodged, narrowly avoiding the crushing blows. But there was no time to hesitate. Raizen darted in and out, his sword clashing against the machine's impenetrable armor, sparks flying with each strike.
He needed a weak spot. He needed to find it — fast.
Then, with a flash of insight, Raizen saw it. The machine's joints — the connection points between the armor plates. A swift strike to those weak points would bring it down.
With a roar, Raizen launched himself at the machine's arm joint, driving his blade deep into the crevice. The machine staggered, its arm jerking back, and Raizen didn't hesitate. He moved to the other side, striking the joint again, and then again, until the machine collapsed with a deafening crash.
Panting, covered in sweat and blood, Raizen stood over the wreckage. His body was bruised, his strength drained, but his resolve burned brighter than ever. The crowd was silent, the Justicars unmoving.
For a moment, there was no sound. Then, a single figure appeared from the shadows, the leader of the Justicars, stepping into the arena with a cold smile. "Well done, Raizen. You've passed the trial. But you are far from free."
Raizen's eyes locked onto the leader's, the weight of his victory mingling with the heavy price he had paid. This was only the beginning.
He'd survived the Trial by Fire, but the real battle — the one for his soul, for the future of the world — had yet to come.
END OF CHAPTER