Chapter – Absolute Puppet
The air in the Grand Coliseum hung heavy with anticipation. A tension that wrapped around every soul like an invisible shroud.
The massive stone arena, carved from the ancient mountains of Eldoria, had seen countless battles but none like this.
The crowd thousands of commoners, merchants, warriors, and nobles from across the kingdoms had come for blood and glory. Now, they felt the shockwaves from every slash, rippling through the ground like distant thunder.
The initial roars had faded. They no longer screamed, no longer chanted. They were silent observers, watching two giants tear reality itself apart.
High above, the sun beat down mercilessly on the sand-strewn floor, where blood and sweat had mixed into a gritty paste.
The Protector, Kaelen Vorath Nemoran, stood firm. His massive frame was clad in armor forged from ancient drake scales. His sword, a relic of the Nemoran lineage, hummed with latent power, its edge glowing faintly from the previous clashes that had scarred the arena walls.
Kaelen knew this battle had only just begun.
He studied Rigorus Draeven, the enigmatic challenger whose reputation whispered through the winds like a curse.
What has this boy endured… to become like this? That face… that grin…
It was a smile that didn't reach the eyes, a mask hiding depths of torment Kaelen could scarcely imagine. Rigorus moved with an unnatural grace, his lithe form belying the explosive power within.
Before Kaelen could finish his thought, a blur of motion appeared behind him. Impossible in human terms.
The air whistled sharply as Rigorus materialized a void that sucked in light itself.
A sword, molten with blood that bubbled and hissed like lava, scraped across Kaelen's back. The strike burned through his armor, searing flesh in an instant.
It was instantaneous. Absolute.
Pain exploded in Kaelen's mind, but he bit it down, channeling it into fury. Blood trickled down his spine, warm and sticky, mixing with sweat.
He spun to face his attacker. The shadow was gone. Vanished into thin air.
Only a faint echo of laughter lingered on the wind.
"Dammit… running like a rat! Face me like a man, you bastard!" Kaelen barked, his voice booming across the arena.
Frustration coiled in his chest. He was the Protector, guardian of empires, yet this whelp toyed with him like a child with a doll.
The crowd murmured, unease spreading like wildfire.
In the lower tiers, a grizzled veteran named Thorne gripped his tankard tightly. "By the gods… that speed… demons move slower. Is this boy even human?"
His wife clutched his arm, pale. "Thorne… his eyes… they're empty. Like he's already dead inside."
Higher up, a portly Silk Road trader wiped sweat from his brow. Profit be damned. If that power turns on us… we're finished.
Whispers rippled through the masses awestruck, fearful, uncertain.
Kaelen finally looked up.
Above him floated Rigorus Draeven. A godlike figure. Calm menace. Expressionless. A blank slate that conveyed infinite malice.
His gaze… too strong. A glance pressed upon the mind like a vice. An abyss. Pure darkness.
From afar, the chill seeped into souls, making hearts stutter and breaths catch.
On the royal balcony, Princess Sylvara leaned forward, emerald eyes wide. "Oh… Lord… what has Rigorus turned into? That look… that look in his eyes…"
Her brother, Prince Draxis, hand on his ceremonial sword, whispered, "Sister… this is no mere duel. That man's power… it could unmake kingdoms."
The King watched, a gleam in his eye. Power like that… harnessed… we could crush our enemies. But at what cost?
Then Rigorus laughed.
Low at first, guttural… then escalating into a cacophony that shook the Coliseum's foundations.
Shockwave after shockwave rippled through the air, cracking flagstones, sending pebbles skittering.
The crowd shuffled, uneasy. Rigorus had lost reason or revealed something more.
He raised his hand, deliberately.
The storm clouds above split apart with a deafening crack, revealing nothing but pure, blazing blue sky.
"The command," he thundered, "FALL!"
Hundreds of swords rained down. No bodies, no physical form. Each radiated red energy, pulsing like a heartbeat, weighing tons in ethereal mass. Every strike precise. Every sword aimed for Kaelen.
The crowd gasped. Mothers shielded children. Elders muttered prayers.
Time seemed to pause in Kaelen's mind.
The swords hung like frozen stars.
Memories flooded him lazy afternoons in Nemoran halls, sparring with brothers, lessons from their father, the fear that had always haunted him.
Am I… afraid… of this boy? Not even twenty-five…
A dagger to his pride. Yet hope bloomed in his chest. A new sun had risen, bright enough to illuminate everything. Rigorus represented something new a force that could change the world.
Dammit… lost in thought… I might actually die. Rigorus… you are truly something.
With a surge of will, Kaelen channeled his essence.
"Absolute Puppet… Infinite Strings," he muttered.
Invisible threads extended from his fingertips, weaving through reality. They latched onto the descending swords, redirecting their paths.
The swords vanished not destroyed, hurled beyond the veil.
A deafening BOOM shook the Coliseum. The swords were sent into space, piercing the atmosphere. For a moment, the sky split wide open, revealing the void beyond. Gasps erupted; knees hit the stone in awe.
The King, Princess Sylvara, Prince Draxis, and the nobles Vandors, Alders, Kinds—stood frozen.
Some clapped. Others whispered in disbelief. All eyes were on Kaelen.
Far across the continent, under Nemoran rule, Vaelus perched atop a tree, seeing the rift. He grinned. "You still have it, huh? Who pushed you to use that? It eats your life force every time… I can't wait until we meet, brother."
Nearby, Kaelvron, meditating quietly, was shaken by the explosion. Eyes wide, heart racing. "If that's Kaelen or Rigorus… the world is changing faster than we thought."
High above the arena, Rigorus fell from the sky. His godlike poise crumbled. Limbs limp, eyes rolling back. Exhaustion had claimed him.
He landed beside Kaelen in the arena, kicking up dust like smoke from a dying fire.
Princess Sylvara gasped. "At least nobody's dead… but Rigorus… he's drained. And those swords… if they'd struck the ground… the Coliseum would have split in two."
The King rose, broad grin lighting his face. "RIGORUS… you bastard! Where have you been? With you… with you… we could kill all those bastards!"
The commentator's voice rang out:
"And the winner… KAELEN, THE IMPERIAL PROTECTOR!"
The crowd erupted, a storm of cheers and applause.
Kaelen stood over the fallen Rigorus, chest heaving, eyes a mix of respect and pity. This isn't the end, boy. You've ignited something greater.
Healers rushed to Rigorus. The Coliseum buzzed anew, whispers of legends born, of futures rewritten in blood and void.