THE WARRIORS OF TWO WORLDS

chapter five

The Blur between two worlds

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The crowd roared like thunder as Jaden stood in the middle of the Octagon. Blood dripped from his arms. His body was covered in cuts, but his eyes looked calm — too calm for a man who had just killed five fighters in a row.

“Bring me the next one,” he said, his voice low and cold.

Kael, his master, stood by the gate watching him closely. He had trained Jaden for months, maybe years — it was hard to tell in this world. Jaden had grown stronger than Kael ever imagined. But there was something different in his eyes now — something dark.

“Enough, Jaden,” Kael said, stepping into the arena. “You’ve proven your strength. You don’t have to keep fighting.”

Jaden’s head turned slowly toward him. “You told me strength is all that matters here. If I stop now, they’ll call me weak.”

The crowd shouted for more blood. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Kael sighed and looked toward the gate. “Then face him,” he said quietly.

The gate opened, and a tall man with golden armor walked out. His body was huge, his shoulders were broad and he was twice the size of Kael.

His name was Ragnar, Kael’s former student — and the strongest warrior of the Octagon.

When Jaden saw him, he smiled faintly. “So, you saved the best for last.”

Ragnar cracked his neck and drew his blade. “I heard you killed thirty men this week. Let’s see if you can kill me too.”

The air turned heavy.

Even the crowd stopped shouting. The chanting died down and the arena spoke volumes with both men staring at themselves.

One can feel the blood lust at it peak between both fighters.

Kael stepped back, fear flashing in his eyes. He whispered to himself, One of them won’t leave this place alive.

Then the bell rang.

Ragnar charged first, swinging his blade with deadly speed. Jaden dodged, the tip of the sword cutting a line across his cheek. He didn’t even flinch. His fists glowed faintly — the strange energy that had grown inside him since he came to this world.

He hit Ragnar once in the chest. The impact sent the man stumbling back. The crowd gasped.

Ragnar growled, blood dripping from his lips. “You’re no normal man.”

“I was never normal,” Jaden replied.

They clashed again and again — metal against bone, blood against dust. Each hit shook the arena. Jaden’s speed increased, his punches sharper, his breath louder. But Ragnar’s sword finally cut deep into his side.

Jaden dropped to one knee.

The crowd roared louder. Kael took a step forward, but Jaden raised his hand, stopping him.

“I’m not done yet,” he said weakly, pushing himself up. “Not yet.”

He charged again. His punches came like lightning, his eyes glowing bright white. Ragnar’s armor cracked, his sword broke in half, and before he could react — Jaden’s fist went straight through his chest.

Ragnar fell with a loud crash.

Silence.

Everyone froze, staring at Jaden.

He stood there, covered in blood, breathing heavily. Then he looked at Kael — the man who had saved and trained him.

“I did it,” Jaden said softly. “I became the strongest.”

Kael nodded slowly. “Yes… but at what cost?”

Jaden looked at his hands. They were shaking. He could no longer feel anything — not pride, not sadness, not even pain.

“I can’t feel…” he whispered. “Why can’t I feel anything?”

Kael walked toward him, but before he could speak, the sky above them began to change. The clouds twisted. A loud sound filled the air, like thunder and screams mixed together.

“What’s happening?” Kael shouted.

The ground cracked beneath Jaden’s feet. The arena started to shake. Warriors screamed as the walls fell apart.

“Master!” Jaden yelled, reaching for Kael’s hand.

Kael grabbed him, his voice trembling. “Remember who you are, Jaden! Remember your world!”

Then everything went white.

When Jaden opened his eyes, he was lying on a cold floor. The sound of beeping machines echoed around him. The smell was clean and sharp — not like the dust and blood of the arena.

He blinked. The white ceiling above him looked familiar.

He turned his head and saw a mirror. His reflection stared back — short hair, clean skin, no scars.

He gasped. “What… what is this?”

He sat up, his chest rising and falling fast. His body felt weak, but when he looked at his hands, he could still feel the weight of the punches he threw. He touched his face — smooth, no cuts.

The door opened, and a nurse rushed in. “You’re awake!” she said, surprised. “You’ve been in a coma for a week. You were found unconscious in the gym.”

Jaden stared at her. “A… week?”

She nodded. “You were lucky. You’re one strong fighter.”

Jaden didn’t reply. His heart pounded as her words echoed in his head. A week? But in the Octagon, it felt like years. He had fought, bled, killed… lived.

He stood up slowly, ignoring the nurse’s warning. He walked to the mirror again and looked at himself.

He touched his reflection and whispered, “Was it all a dream?”

But then — for a split second — he saw something behind his reflection. The shadow of Kael, smiling sadly at him.

Jaden stumbled back. His heart raced. The nurse didn’t seem to notice anything.

“Sir? Are you alright?” she asked.

He forced a small smile. “Yeah… I’m fine.”

But deep inside, he knew he wasn’t.

The world felt too quiet. Too soft. The sounds of the arena, the smell of blood, the rush of the fight — they were all gone. But his body remembered. His heart remembered.

As he walked out of the hospital, he looked up at the cloudy sky.

“Kael,” he whispered, “was that your world… or mine?”

The wind blew softly, carrying the faint sound of cheers — or maybe it was just his imagination.

Jaden took a deep breath, his hands clenching.

There has to be a sign. There has to be scars. Jaden dashed out of the wardrobe rushing towards the toilet.

He yanked open the door and rushed towards the mirror taking off his shirts. But his face went pale the moment they were off.

" Where is it? Where did it all go?!" he shouted as he stared back at himself.