The battlefield was a nightmare of blood and steel.
Cries of warriors echoed through the air, clashing auras painting the sky with streaks of destruction. **Vinay's rage had turned the war into a storm of devastation, and yet… Rudra stood at a distance, watching.**
**Unmoving. Unfazed. Uninterested.**
His piercing gaze flickered between the chaos, his expression unreadable.
His arms remained folded. His blade untouched. His aura hidden beneath an eerie calm.
He simply watched.
The battlefield beneath him raged like a beast, yet **Rudra did nothing.**
While Rudra remained still, another warrior was fighting for his very existence.
**Raiden.**
A commander from Vinay's army—one of the **most skilled swordsmen among the mid-tier ranks.**
He wasn't the strongest. He wasn't the smartest.
But he had **pride.**
**He had ambition.**
He had spent **his entire life** proving himself to those who never gave him a second glance.
**Raiden had once been weak.** A street fighter in the slums of the empire, scraping for food, living in filth, fighting for survival.
Until **Vinay found him.**
Vinay saw the fire in his eyes, the hunger, the refusal to back down even when faced with impossible odds.
**"Serve me,"** Vinay had said years ago. **"Earn your place."**
And he did.
**He trained. He bled. He killed.**
For Vinay.
For his own **worth.**
He had clawed his way **up from the dirt**, gaining respect, proving himself as a warrior.
And today, on this battlefield, he would show the world **his strength.**
Even if it killed him.
**Sorin stood before him, unfazed.**
A mid-tier commander of the Goodie Hunters, a warrior whose aura **radiated sharp, disciplined power.**
Their blades had clashed before.
Now, they would clash **for the last time.**
Raiden took a breath, gripping his sword, his aura crackling like lightning.
**"This is my moment,"** he muttered to himself. **"I will not lose."**
Then he moved.
Faster than the eye could see.
His sword lashed out, **a strike so fast it could sever steel.**
**Sorin blocked it with ease.**
Raiden's eyes widened.
Sorin countered, his sword **slicing through the air like a storm.**
Raiden barely dodged. **A line of blood appeared on his cheek.**
For a moment, neither moved.
Then—
They attacked at the same time.
Raiden was fast. **Sorin was faster.**
Raiden was strong. **Sorin was stronger.**
With every strike, **Raiden felt himself slipping.**
His movements grew slower. His arms heavier. His body weaker.
He refused to fall.
**He couldn't fall.**
But deep down—**he knew.**
This was not a battle he could win.
Raiden lunged, putting every last ounce of his strength into **one final attack.**
Sorin stepped forward.
**One strike.**
**One perfect, precise strike.**
Raiden's blade stopped inches from Sorin's neck.
Sorin's sword **was already buried in Raiden's chest.**
Raiden gasped.
His sword slipped from his fingers.
His vision blurred.
He fell to his knees.
**No. No. NO.**
This wasn't supposed to happen.
He had worked too hard. He had suffered too much.
He couldn't lose.
He couldn't **die like this.**
He turned his head—**and saw Vinay.**
Vinay was far away, wreaking havoc upon the battlefield, his aura burning like a god's fury.
Raiden wanted to call out.
To scream.
To beg.
**But Vinay wasn't looking at him.**
Vinay didn't even notice him.
Raiden had always been **just another soldier.**
His vision darkened.
His body collapsed.
**And Raiden was gone.**
And through it all—Rudra simply **watched.**
He had seen Raiden fall.
He had seen Vinay's destruction.
He had seen the battlefield **turn red with blood.**
Yet, he remained still.
Silent.
Unmoving.
**What was he thinking?**
No one knew.
**Because Rudra never spoke unless he needed to.**
His power was unmatched, yet he chose not to act.
His presence was suffocating, yet he made no move.
**He was a mystery.**
And in this war—**he would remain a mystery.**
For now.