Chapter 22 – Echoes of Blood and Betrayal
The arena was ancient, carved into the bones of Zenith itself. Though modern tech had fused into its bones energy screens, shifting barriers, climate simulators it still breathed with history. Titans once trained here. Monarchs had dueled. And today, the factions of Zenith returned to the circle, not just for honor, but to claim dominance in front of thousands.
The tournament opened with fanfare. Floating screens hovered high, broadcasting the matchups. Colorful projections danced across the sky, highlighting each faction's chosen champions. Cheers erupted as names were called: Aurora from Ivory Spear, Jexel from Black Sun, Mirael from the Crystal Sect. These were names etched into Zenith's student hierarchy symbols of control.
Then the announcer hesitated.
A hush fell as an unfamiliar name glowed across the skies:
Combatant: Grey-Null. Affiliation: Independent.
The silence stretched unnaturally long.
In one of the upper boxes, the Council of Student Factions leaned forward. Beneath their masks and sigils, some faces went pale. Others frowned. Aralyn smirked, her hand resting under her chin.
"He's going to break everything," she whispered to herself.
And he did.
Samuel stepped into the arena wearing black, trimmed with faint silver no emblems, no rank, no title. Just presence. His face was bare, his eyes calm. There was no cheer. Just stunned awe.
His opponent a senior ranked third in the Ivory Spear grinned mockingly.
"You think you can just show up and"
Samuel moved.
A flash. A burst. A silence that dropped like a blade.
One second, the opponent had stood ready, staff charged with elemental sigils. The next, he was on the ground, weapon shattered, limbs trembling, eyes wide in terror. The crowd hadn't seen what happened. Neither had the overseers.
Samuel walked away without a word.
And Zenith changed forever.
Behind the Curtains…
In the Oath's stronghold, guarded by shadows and symbols, chaos brewed. A body had been found one of the scouts Samuel trusted, killed by internal energy rupture. It was no accident. A message was carved into the wall above the corpse, etched in crimson light:
"The Unseen must remain Unformed. Cease."
Aralyn stood above the body, eyes narrowed. The other core members Jace, the tactical illusionist, and Tera, the code-seer stood silent.
"We have a traitor," Aralyn said coldly.
"Or a warning," Tera murmured, fingers already scanning the residual energy threads.
Samuel arrived moments later, expression unreadable. He looked at the message for a long moment before turning to the others.
"Lock everything down. Triple encrypt the interface relay. No one leaves, no one speaks."
Jace growled. "Should we counterstrike?"
Samuel's voice was low. "Not yet. Let them think they rattled us."
His system pulsed. New directives surged:
> New Trial: Integrity of Shadows.
Protect your core from collapse. Identify the traitor. Strengthen your bond or face dissolution.
He accepted silently.
But a part of him stirred with something darker.
A new skill unlocked beneath the system's cold interface:
> Unbound Revelation: Eye of Dissonance – Level 1.
See what others conceal. Shatter falsehoods at will.
Samuel's irises flickered for half a breath, then returned to normal. He turned and walked toward the training chamber. He didn't need sleep. He needed strength. More than ever.
Elsewhere…
Within the academy's forbidden district beyond walls sealed to most students a circle of robed figures gathered around a construct of data and bone. A surveillance feed of Samuel's fight played again and again.
"He's growing exponentially."
"The Unseen Oath wasn't supposed to stabilize. What altered the flow?"
A figure stepped forward taller, with crimson marks etched into their robes. Their voice carried ancient weight.
"It's time we awaken the Obsidian Trial. Force him to show his hand."
Another voice echoed: "And if he survives it?"
"Then we mark him."
Back at the Arena…
The second round began. Samuel was matched against two elite combatants from rival factions an unusual trial, justified as a "balance of power."
He didn't flinch.
Instead, he removed his coat, revealing symbols burnt faintly into his arms remnants of system-awarded trial victories. His expression was calm, but the air around him thickened like coiling gravity.
The duel started.
It ended before the crowd could blink.
Two bodies. One victor.
Silence, then uproar.
Samuel stared at the sky as lights exploded overhead, thinking not of the crowd but of the message left by the traitor.
"The Unseen must remain Unformed."
He smiled.
"Then we'll become something they can't even name."