Months passed.
Not days.Not weeks.
Months.
Time inside the Veiled Sanctum was not counted by calendars or seasons. It was measured in aching bones, in torn muscles that healed thicker, in breaths learned under crushing strain.
At first, they counted the days.
Then the weeks blurred.
Eventually, they stopped counting at all.
Because every day became the same merciless cycle—dawn shattered by shouting,midday drowned in exhaustion,night swallowed by silence so heavy it pressed against their chests.
The grief they had carried into the Sanctum never left.
It changed.
Pain became discipline.Fear became awareness.Weakness became something to be hunted down and destroyed.
The six who now stood on the training grounds were no longer survivors clinging to one another.
They were forged.
The courtyard trembled beneath synchronized footsteps as morning light crept over stone.
"MOVE, YOU SLOTHS—!"
Captain Rhosyn Vale's voice cracked like thunder.
Before she finished—
Six bodies dropped.
Perfect push-up stance.
Knuckles biting into stone.Spines aligned.Necks straight.Breathing controlled.
Rhosyn halted.
Her boot scraped once.
"…I DIDN'T SAY—"
Down.Up.Down.
Already moving.
Lynx counted calmly."Twenty-seven… twenty-eight…" He glanced sideways. "Kaien, elbow."
Kaien adjusted instantly. "Focus."
Razan grinned through the burn. "If he slows, I'll carry him."
"Try it," Kaien replied flatly.
Eira moved fluidly between them, placing a hand on Razan's shoulder. "Steady. Control."
"I'm enjoying it," Razan laughed.
Draiven said nothing.
His movements were flawless—mechanical, efficient, relentless.
And Arin—
Arin was silent.
Every motion precise.Every breath measured.Eyes dark, alert, absorbing everything.
Rhosyn stared at them.
Months ago, this group would have collapsed.
Now?
They anticipated her.
"SPRINT FORMATION—!"
Already running.
"WEIGHT LIFTS—!"
Already lifting.
"STONE CARRY—!"
Already moving.
Together.
Rhosyn crossed her arms.
A dangerous smile crept across her scarred face.
"Again."
No groans.
No protests.
Just movement.
That afternoon, the inner courtyard gates opened.
Veteran warriors slowed.Voices dropped.
Marienne entered.
She didn't need armor.Authority followed her like a shadow.
Her gaze settled on the six.
"You've changed."
Lynx puffed his chest. "We hear that a lot."
"SILENCE," Rhosyn barked.
Marienne smiled. "You've done well."
Rhosyn grunted. "They stopped breaking."
Marienne faced them fully.
"You've endured what most never do," she said. "If you wish to advance further, you must cross a threshold."
Razan cracked his neck. "Say the word."
"The next stage grants real power," Marienne continued. "Spirit Arts."
Excitement surged.
"But first," she said, "prove yourselves."
Her hand gestured toward the city.
"A ranked arena combatant. Rank Fifteen."
Rhosyn smirked.
"You will defeat him."
The Grand Arena roared the next morning.
Blood-dark sand.Iron in the air.A living sea of noise.
At its center stood Gorath the Skullrenderer.
A mountain of scarred muscle.Leather straps crossing his bare torso.A massive rune-etched hammer resting against his shoulder.
His opponent collapsed.
Gorath didn't stop.
The hammer fell.
Once.Twice.
Screams erupted.
He grabbed the broken man and hurled him from the ring.
Cheers.Boos.Coins clattering.
"WHO'S NEXT?!" Gorath roared.
Razan's fists clenched. "That's him."
At the matchmaker's booth—
"Kids," the man sneered. "Go home."
They stared.
Silence stretched.
"All six?" the matchmaker asked slowly.
"Yes," Kaien said.
"Against Gorath?"
"Yes."
The man laughed. "You'll die."
Behind them, a hooded figure placed a heavy pouch of coins.
"On the six."
The bookmaker blinked. "You're serious?"
The hooded figure said nothing.
The bell rang.
They entered the arena together.
No theatrics.
Gorath laughed. "Six pups."
Kaien raised his hand.
They moved.
Physical combat only.
Razan slammed into Gorath's side, raw strength meeting raw strength.
Eira cut low, fast, precise.
Lynx's blunt arrows struck joints, forcing adjustments.
Draiven cracked the ground beneath Gorath's footing.
Arin slipped in, blade flashing, then out again.
Gorath roared.
The hammer slammed down, shockwaves ripping through the sand.
They staggered—
But held.
Minutes dragged on.
Sweat poured.Blood spilled.
They pushed him back.
Step by step.
Until—
Gorath's back hit the arena wall.
His grin returned.
Spirit energy exploded from his hammer.
The ground shattered.
Kaien was hurled aside.
Razan crashed hard.
Eira barely rolled clear.
"You earned this," Gorath snarled. "Now die."
Roots erupted—Draiven, straining, holding him for seconds only.
"NOW!" Kaien shouted.
Wind surged.Frost bloomed.Arrows multiplied.Stone rose.
Still—he endured.
Then—
Arin stepped forward.
Alone.
Blue energy pulsed along his dagger.
Gorath laughed. "You?"
Arin didn't answer.
They clashed.
Hammer versus blade.
One step.Two.
Arin was thrown back—caught himself—charged again.
Steel rang.
Blue energy flared.
Gorath faltered.
Just enough.
Razan slammed in.
Eira struck.
Lynx's arrow pierced deep.
Kaien's wind twisted the hammer aside.
Draiven shattered the ground beneath Gorath's feet.
Gorath roared—
And fell.
Silence.
Then—
The arena erupted.
Shock.Disbelief.Anger.
Coins spilled.Shouts of outrage.
"They were kids!"
"That was impossible!"
The referee raised their hands.
Victory.
At the betting booth—
The hood lifted.
Rhosyn Vale.
Lynx gaped. "YOU BET ON US?!"
She smirked. "I don't gamble. I invest."
Razan laughed breathlessly. "You're insane."
She turned serious. "You passed your first trial."
The six straightened.
"And now—"
A BOOM thundered across the city.
The ground shook.
Smoke rose in the distance.
Rhosyn's face drained of color.
They sprinted.
The market was destroyed.
Bodies lay broken.People screamed.Fire burned.
They helped—pulled survivors free, carried the wounded.
Then—
A banner rose.
Black cloth snapping in the wind.
A symbol—similar to the Veiled Sanctum.
But twisted.
Altered.
Wrong.
Rhosyn went pale.
"Back to base," she said sharply.
"Now."
A calm voice drifted from the smoke.
"So… these are the ones everyone's whispering about."
A figure stood beyond the dust.
Watching.
Interested.
The six tensed.
And the world shifted.