Stark
ran until his legs gave out, exhaustion crashing over him like a
wave. His only thought had been to put as much distance as possible
between himself and them.
But
now, his temporary strength from Krul’s
spell had disappeared long ago.
He
leaned against a rock, chest heaving. His body burned from the
sprint, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight in his chest.
Krul
had been captured.
Because
of him.
The
thought gnawed at him. What would happen to Krul? Torture? Execution?
Stark had no illusions about the fate that awaited someone like the
Devil of Kastar. The Empire’s
hatred for him was very evident.
His
legs trembled. He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to
still the shaking, trying to clear his head and cool his body.
The
sun had begun to set, bathing the horizon in orange. The desert heat
faded, giving way to the chill as nightfall approached.
His
eyes drifted across the landscape—and then stopped.
A
pass?
A
narrow path cut through the rocky terrain, flanked by low cliffs.
Stark frowned. Had
that been there before?
He
rubbed his eyes. I
must be exhausted maybe that’s
why I didn’t notice.
Still,
he couldn’t
afford to rest for long. He had to keep moving. He had to find a way
out of this new predicament.
He
could hunt, but this was far from the devil’s
territory. He had no idea what kinds of beasts roamed these lands,
what strengths or weaknesses they had. Food would be much harder to
come by.
And
survival would be even harder.
Stark’s
senses sharpened as the lingering effects of the spell faded. Every
sound felt amplified—the faint rustle of critters beneath the sand,
the subtle movements of insects skittering nearby.
’s…
unsettling.
Then—a
footstep.
His
head snapped toward the sound. Nothing.
His
breathing hitched. He was sure he had heard something.
Sweat
beaded on his forehead as his eyes darted around, searching. Am
I imagining things?
“I
finally found you.”
The
voice came from behind.
Stark
whirled around, his heart beating loudly.
A
tall, armored man stood a few paces away, a spear resting in his
grip. Broad-shouldered, muscular, battle-worn. The insignia on his
armor was identical to the one Arlen bore.
An
Imperial Knight.
The
man studied him with an amused expression, scratching his beard.
“You’re
that slave, right?”
Stark’s
fingers instinctively tightened around the hilt of his sword. “W-Who
are you?”
The
knight let out a short chuckle. “Does
my name even matter? You’re going to die anyway.”
Stark
staggered back. The man’s
presence was suffocating—stronger than the knights he had faced
before.
His
blood ran cold.
He’s
like that man with scarlet eyes.
The
knight grinned, noticing Stark’s
reaction. “Yeah? So what?”
Stark
swallowed hard, forcing out the words. “T-That
man… he made a Life Pact with Teacher. He promised I’d be safe!
He—he said no one would harm me!”
The
knight’s
grin widened.
Then
he threw his head back and laughed.
“AHAHAHA!!!”
The
sound sent chills down Stark’s
spine.
“You
actually believed that? The pact only ensured you left the
battlefield safely. The Grandmaster won’t harm you—sure.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
But
me?”
The
knight raised his spear.
“I
was never part of the deal.”
“That’s
why he sent me to kill you outside the battlefield.”
Kvran
smiled, leveling his spear at Stark.
Stark’s
blood ran cold.
Krul
had been tricked.
Everything—the
sacrifice, the pact—it had all been for nothing. And now, he was
going to die at this knight’s
hands.
He
stared in disbelief, words failing him.
Kvran
chuckled. “I’m
Kvran. Nice to meet you, filthy slave.” His grin widened. “Now,
let me send you safely to the afterlife.”
Rage
burned endlessly inside Stark. That smirk. That mocking tone.
“You
call me filthy, yet you stoop to this?” His voice trembled with
fury. “IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL A KNIGHT?? A FUCKING DOG BASTARD!!”
He roared.
Kvran’s
grin faltered.
“You…”
Stark
ripped his broadsword from its sheath, dagger in his other hand.
“Come
at me, you putrid bootlicker.”
Kvran
moved.
In
an instant, the knight closed the distance, his spear lunging
straight for Stark’s
heart.
Too
fast!
Stark
barely deflected the blow, stumbling back toward the narrow pass. His
muscles screamed in protest—he could sense the attacks, but his
body couldn’t
keep up.
Kvran’s
spear whistled through the air, aimed for Stark’s head.
Stark
jerked sideways, the blade missing by a hair. A sharp sting. Blood
trickled from a fresh cut on his cheek.
He
exhaled sharply. “Barely
dodged that…”
Kvran
strode forward, relaxed. “You
dodge well—for a novice.”
’s
underestimating me. Good. A chance would come.
Without
warning, Stark whipped his dagger forward.
Kvran
reacted instantly, flicking his spear to deflect it.
The
moment the knight’s
focus shifted, Stark lunged, scooping a handful of sand and flinging
it at his face.
A
direct hit.
“Tch—runt.”
Kvran cursed, momentarily blinded.
Stark’s
blade shot forward, aimed for his chest.
“Too
slow, you little runt.”
Kvran’s
instincts took over. Steel met steel. With a brutal counter, the
knight snatched Stark by the collar and pivoted, slamming him into
the ground.
CRACK.
The
impact rattled Stark’s
bones. His vision blurred. Pain exploded in his back.
Blood
pooled in his mouth.
“Ugh…”
He croaked throwing up some blood on the sand.
Move.
Move, damn it.
Gritting
his teeth, he rolled away, pushing himself onto his knees just as
Kvran regained his bearings.
The
knight wiped the sand from his face, expression dark.
The
real fight had just begun.
“Don’t
expect a quick death after this stunt you pulled.” Kvran’s voice
was low, edged with amusement.
Stark
wiped the blood from his lips and glared. “I’d
rather die fighting than submit to scum like you.”
“So
be it.”
Kvran
charged.
Before
Stark could react, a hand clamped around his face.
Then—he
was flying.
The
world blurred as Kvran hurled him like a ragdoll into the narrow
pass.
CRACK.
Stark’s
body collided with the rock wall, a tremor shaking through the stone
from the sheer force. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he slumped to
the ground, coughing violently.
Before
he could catch his breath, Kvran was there.
A
fist tangled in his hair—then pain exploded in his ribs.
THUD.
THUD. THUD.
The
knight’s
knee drove into his gut, again and again.
“Gh—Agh—”
Stark’s body convulsed with each brutal impact. Something cracked.
Then another. His ribs. His leather armor split, useless against the
raw force.
Still,
he refused to fall.
His
fingers dug into the stone wall as he staggered upright.
Kvran
tilted his head. “You’re
tenacious. I’ll give you that.”
Stark
laughed. A wet, broken laugh. Blood dripped from his lips. “Hah…
Fuck you.”
Kvran’s
smirk disappeared.
The
spear flashed.
“AGHHHHHHH!!!”
A
searing pain exploded.
Stark’s
scream ripped through the narrow pass as the spearhead pierced his
shoulder, tearing through muscle and bone.
Kvran
twisted the weapon.
A
sickening crunch.
“Scream
more, you worthless bastard.” Kvran’s voice was mocking, but his
eyes held no emotion.
With
a brutal kick, he ripped the spear free.
Blood
spurted from the open wound. Stark reeled back, his vision swimming
as his body instinctively pulled him deeper into the pass.
“Enough
playing.” Kvran’s voice was cold as he leveled his spear at the
battered Stark.
Damn
it!
Desperate,
Stark hurled a handful of sand and loose rocks at the knight’s
face.
He
lunged, blinded by pain and rage, sword swinging wildly.
Kvran
barely flinched. A sharp flick to Stark’s
wrist—his sword clattered to the ground.
But
Stark didn’t
stop.
With
a feral scream, he lunged again—this time, his teeth sank deep into
Kvran’s
forearm.
“Tch—fuck
you, filthy sewer rat!” Kvran cursed, kicking him away.
Stark
staggered but didn’t
fall. Blood dripped from his shoulder, his breath came in ragged
gasps.
He
leaned against the narrow rock wall, barely keeping himself upright.
Kvran’s
next attack was coming.
Stark
could see it—
The
spearhead glinted. Time slowed.
He
watched it slice through the air, gliding toward him in eerie
silence.
Is
this it?
He
closed his eyes.
Then—
A
blinding light erupted.
Suddenly,
the ground vanished beneath them.
They
plummeted into the abyss.
“WHAT—?!”
Stark gasped.
“The
hell—?!” Kvran shouted, caught off guard.
Then—
sudden stillness.
When
Stark opened his eyes, he was standing—not falling.
A
narrow stone pathway stretched before them, lined with fire-lit lamps
that flickered. A soft breeze ran through the cavern.
He
looked down at himself.
His
wounds were gone.
The
pain in his ribs? Vanished. The gaping shoulder wound? Healed. It was
as if the battle had never happened.
Kvran
noticed too. His expression darkened.
Annoyed,
the knight swung his spear at Stark’s
throat.
Stark
flinched.
But
the spear stopped right before hitting him as if he was enclosed in
an invisible barrier.
“What—?”
Kvran’s eyes narrowed.
Then
Stark noticed a shackle
One
thick, dark chain bound his wrist—the other end attached to Kvran.
Kvran’s
fury boiled over. “What the hell is this?!” He yanked at the
chain, but it held firm. “Is this your doing, you bastard?!”
Before
Stark could answer, glowing writings materialized.
The
letters hovered in the air, shimmering blue, moving like they were
alive.
It
was written in Kastari.
[This
is a trial to test your worth. Members bound by the shackle cannot
harm each other.]
[To
complete the trial, One must find the Red-Eyed Raven and retrieve its
treasure.]
They
had stumbled into a dungeon.
