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CHAPTER 54
A Lesson in SurvivalPain became Lian’s first teacher in the fighting pits.Not the sharp, merciful pain of a blade or the sudden snap of bone—but the slow, grinding agony that sank into muscle and marrow, teaching endurance through repetition. Every breath scraped his ribs. Every movement sent lightning through his shoulders. The sand beneath his boots was already dark with blood—some of it his.The crowd roared above him, a living beast made of hunger and noise.“Get up!”A boot slammed into his side, knocking the air from his lungs. Lian rolled instinctively, coughing as grit filled his mouth. He barely had time to raise his arms before the next blow came—fists like stone crashing into his guard.He absorbed it. Let it pass through him.Survive first. Fight second.That was the rule of the pits.His opponent was massive, bare-chested and scar-latticed, swinging with the confidence of someone who had killed him many times before. The man grinned as he attacked again.“Thought you
CHAPTER 53
INTO THE FIGHTING PITSThe stench hit Lian before the sound.Blood. Sweat. Rot.It clung to the air so thickly it coated his tongue, seeped into his lungs, settled into his bones. The underground fighting pits lay beneath the eastern slums, carved out of old stone and forgotten tunnels, far from the palace—but no less cruel.Lian stood at the entrance, shirtless, chains still hanging loosely from his wrists as if the world refused to let him forget what he was.A slave.Or at least, what he used to be.A guard shoved him forward. “Move.”Lian staggered a step, boots scraping stone. The crowd’s roar rolled up from below like thunder trapped underground—thousands of voices shouting for blood, for pain, for spectacle.For death.He descended the steps slowly, forcing his breathing to stay even. The Blood Key beneath his skin pulsed once, faint and warm, as if sensing the violence ahead. He ignored it.Not yet.The pit opened into a massive circular arena carved from black rock. Iron cage
CHAPTER 52
THE BLACK GHOST’S SHADOWThe name spread before Lian did.Black Ghost.It moved through the battlefield in whispers and screams, carrying on blood and fear. Soldiers shouted it like a curse. Rebels clung to it like a prayer. Somewhere between myth and nightmare, the name had stopped belonging to him.And yet—he felt it settle into his bones.The palace grounds burned.Flames crawled up shattered pillars, licking at banners torn from their poles. The air stank of ash, iron, and something older—something wrong. The broken seal pulsed beneath the earth like a wounded heart, each throb sending tremors through stone and flesh alike.Lian stood at the center of it all.His cloak hung in tatters, shadows pooling unnaturally at his feet, stretching longer than the light allowed. The Blood Key throbbed beneath his skin, no longer just a mark but a presence—hot, alive, hungry.Around him, bodies lay scattered. Some stirred. Some never would again.Mira reached him first.“Lian,” she said, her
CHAPTER 51
The Last Stand BeginsThe morning air was thick with tension, charged like the calm before a violent storm. Every breath felt heavy as the rebels gathered at the edge of the forest, their faces drawn tight with resolve and exhaustion. The weight of what was to come pressed on them like a crushing stone. The final assault on the palace wasn’t just a battle—it was their last chance for freedom, their only hope to end the reign of gods and kings alike.Lian stood at the forefront, cloaked in shadows as the Black Ghost he had become. His eyes, dark and fierce, scanned the mass of rebels before him—men and women hardened by loss, betrayal, and dreams of a new dawn. His voice cut through the quiet like steel.“This is it,” he said, his words measured but powerful. “Today, we reclaim what was stolen. The Blood Key is no longer just a curse—it is a weapon. And it will be the end of their tyranny.”Mira stepped forward, her presence calm yet commanding. Her gaze met Lian’s, steady and unwave
CHAPTER 49
THE DEPTHS OF DESPAIRThe world ended quietly.Not with fire or screaming crowds or the roar of gods—but with silence.Lian lay on his back in the ruins beneath the shattered outer wall, staring up at a sky choked with ash. Snow drifted down in slow, lazy spirals, melting as soon as it touched the scorched stone around him. He couldn’t feel the cold. He couldn’t feel much of anything at all.Betrayal hollowed a man faster than any blade.The rebels were gone.Some dead.Some scattered.Some—traitors.He squeezed his eyes shut, but the memories burned brighter in the darkness.The ambush.The signal that came too early.The gates opened from the inside.And the look on Jarek’s face—the man who swore loyalty in blood—when palace soldiers poured through the breach.I’m sorry, Jarek had mouthed, even as he turned away.Lian’s fingers curled into the dirt until stone cracked beneath his nails. A low sound crawled up his throat, something between a sob and a growl.“I trusted you,” he whisp
CHAPTER 49
THE DEPTHS OF DESPAIRThe world ended quietly.Not with fire or screaming crowds or the roar of gods—but with silence.Lian lay on his back in the ruins beneath the shattered outer wall, staring up at a sky choked with ash. Snow drifted down in slow, lazy spirals, melting as soon as it touched the scorched stone around him. He couldn’t feel the cold. He couldn’t feel much of anything at all.Betrayal hollowed a man faster than any blade.The rebels were gone.Some dead.Some scattered.Some—traitors.He squeezed his eyes shut, but the memories burned brighter in the darkness.The ambush.The signal that came too early.The gates opened from the inside.And the look on Jarek’s face—the man who swore loyalty in blood—when palace soldiers poured through the breach.I’m sorry, Jarek had mouthed, even as he turned away.Lian’s fingers curled into the dirt until stone cracked beneath his nails. A low sound crawled up his throat, something between a sob and a growl.“I trusted you,” he whisp
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