Chapter 5: The Duel of Brothers
The air inside the Draeven Coliseum was thick with tension.
Stone seats overflowed with clan members, disciples, elders, and curious onlookers. The sacred arena, once used only for rites of passage and ceremonial challenges, now braced itself for a personal war — a duel between blood brothers.
And when Rigorus stepped into the ring… the world held its breath.
Not because of his posture or the worn cloak fluttering behind him, but because of the weapons he carried.
The White Fang and The Black Fang — twin swords forged from the fangs of the Dragon King and Queen.
Whispers exploded like wildfire.
"Isn't that…?"
"It can't be…"
"Those belonged to Celestia Draeven!"
Even the elders rose from their thrones in disbelief.
On the opposite end, Kairos stormed into the ring like a thunderclap — broad-shouldered, cloaked in ceremonial black armor, and wielding Vandalmourne, the brutal blade of their late father.
But when his eyes locked on the twin swords strapped to Rigorus's back… his fury was instantaneous.
"You—" Kairos's voice trembled, not with fear, but betrayal. "She gave you those blades?"
Rigorus said nothing.
Kairos advanced. "Those are sacred! Our mother's most treasured weapons! You vanish for years, show up uninvited, and she hands you the legacy of our bloodline?!"
Rigorus kept calm, his gaze focused and grounded. "I didn't take anything. She gave them freely."
"Don't act righteous with me, coward!" Kairos roared. "You left! Ran from your shame, from your clan, from me! Now you walk back in like some hero?"
The crowd fell silent.
"You want her love? You want my place?! I'll bury you before that happens!"
Without another word, Kairos launched forward. The duel had begun.
Clang!Their swords met midair, the sound ringing like thunder.
Kairos struck first — brutally, relentlessly. His blade style was fast and punishing, refined from years of elite cultivation. Vandalmourne came down in arcing slashes, forcing Rigorus onto the defensive.
Rigorus blocked with White Fang, parried with Black Fang, but every blow shook his arms.
He wasn't faster. He wasn't stronger.
Not yet.
Each step he took left cracks in the arena floor as Kairos pushed harder.
"You can't keep up!" Kairos spat. "You think a week of training makes you my equal?"
Rigorus gritted his teeth and slid back, narrowly dodging a vertical slash that sliced into the stone.
"I'm not your equal," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm your shadow. The one you tried to bury."
Kairos roared, his eyes wild. "Then die like one!"
He slammed his elbow into Rigorus's ribs and followed it with a devastating uppercut with the flat of Vandalmourne. Rigorus was launched into the air and crashed down hard.
From the crowd, Naelira gasped. Her hands trembled at the edge of the ring.
"STOP IT!" she cried. "He's bleeding! He's going to die!"
But the elders did nothing.
Kairos stood over Rigorus, sneering.
"You're nothing, Rigorus. You never were. And now… I'm going to finish what Father started."
He raised Vandalmourne for a fatal strike.
But just before the blade came down—Rigorus rolled, barely dodging it.
And then everything changed.
A low hum filled the arena. The wind died.
Rigorus slowly rose to his feet… and exhaled.
His aura — long suppressed — erupted.
An invisible pressure crushed the air. Dust lifted. Loose rocks vibrated. Even the spectators felt it — a deep, resonant energy that wasn't violent, but alive.
A quiet storm of pain, grief, and spiritual depth.
Kairos stumbled back.
"What the hell is this…?"
Rigorus's eyes glowed faintly. "This… is what I created. While you trained with masters, I listened to the world. While you drew power from pride… I drew it from pain."
"Rage of the Heart: Origin of Ambient Resonance."
The spiritual pressure doubled.
The arena cracked under his step as Rigorus charged forward. White Fang clashed with Vandalmourne — but this time, the impact sent Kairos sliding backward.
Rigorus was faster. Sharper. Precise.
And his strikes carried weight — not from brute strength, but from emotional resonance. He was syncing with the feelings of the crowd, the grief of his past, the pain he buried.
Kairos screamed in frustration. "STOP IT! I AM THE FUTURE HEAD!"
"You're a coward hiding behind titles."
Rigorus launched a shockwave punch that didn't even touch Kairos — but the force alone sent him flying.
Kairos scrambled to his feet, a gash bleeding down his cheek.
"NO MORE!"
He slashed wildly, cutting through the air — but Rigorus was already behind him.
The tip of Black Fang kissed Kairos's throat.
Gasps filled the coliseum.
It was over.
Rigorus slowly lowered his sword and turned away.
But hatred doesn't die easily.
From the dirt, Kairos snarled. He reached into his sleeve and pulled a hidden dagger, sprinting toward Rigorus's exposed back.
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
Naelira screamed, "RIGORUS!!!"
Clang!
The dagger was blocked — not by Rigorus.
By Liora.
She stood between them, her own blade intercepting the killing blow.
Kairos froze.
Liora's voice was cold and steady. "You lost the moment you drew a dagger behind his back."
Guards rushed in, and Kairos was finally restrained. He roared, cursed, spat — but no one listened anymore.
The arena… fell silent.
Then it erupted in thunderous applause — not just for Rigorus's victory, but for his return.
Aftermath
Rigorus stood in the center of the coliseum, exhausted, bloodied, but victorious. His swords hummed with quiet approval.
He didn't smile.
He only looked up to the sky and whispered:
"I didn't come back to win. I came back… to reclaim myself."
Kairos was dragged away in chains.
Naelira rushed to Rigorus's side, eyes wide with both fear and admiration. "You scared me," she whispered.
Rigorus glanced at her, barely standing. "I scared myself."
From the shadows, the elders watched… and whispered.
"He's no longer the boy we cast out."
"He's something else entirely."
And as the sun began to set over the Draeven Coliseum, Rigorus stood alone — twin swords on his back, the echoes of his heartbeat still resonating with the world around him.
The war within had only just begun.
Shadows and Echoes
The coliseum had begun to empty.
Only a few remained — Liora, Naelira, the guards dragging Kairos away… and Rigorus, still standing in the center of the arena, bathed in twilight.
His breath slowed. The ache in his body deepened. The twin swords on his back now felt like memories carved in steel.
For a moment, everything was still.
He looked down at the cracked arena floor. Blood — both his and Kairos's — had stained it. But it wasn't the pain that stuck with him.
It was the silence.
The kind that followed betrayal. The kind that lingered when you realized your greatest enemy… was your own kin.
"This was never just about strength," he thought.
"It was about being seen. Being heard. Being… remembered."
He clenched his fists.
"For them… for the ones who died at Saint's Hollow."
"For the child who cried for his mother, and heard only thunder."
Footsteps approached softly.
Naelira placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her voice quiet. "You didn't just win, Rigorus. You reminded them who you are."
He nodded slowly but didn't speak.
His eyes drifted to the highest tower of the coliseum — sensing something.
Unseen by the others, a lone figure stood in the shadows, wrapped in a dark traveling cloak. A long scarf fluttered behind them. Their face hidden, their aura restrained… but powerful.
They watched Rigorus for a long time.
Then, with a whisper of wind, the figure vanished — as if they had never been there at all.
Rigorus turned away, gaze distant.
"One battle down…""But the war — the real one — is only beginning."
He walked toward the exit with Naelira and Liora flanking him on either side.
And behind them, the coliseum stood silent once more… echoing with the footsteps of a boy who had come home — not to be accepted.
But to challenge fate itself.