Lucian didn't flinch when Draven stepped closer.
Not because he wasn't afraid—he was—but because something inside him refused to back down.
Fear was expected.
Collapse was optional.
The Warden glared at Draven. "I said leave."
Draven tilted his head, chains clinking lazily. "Make me."
That snapped a ripple through the training hall. Conversations died. Fighters slowed their drills. Even the air thickened—like the Pits itself was waiting to see who would break first.
The Warden didn't repeat himself.
He simply stared.
It was enough.
Draven laughed, stepping back with a mock bow. "Relax, Warden. I'm only paying respect to the dead man walking."
Lucian's fingers twitched.
Draven pointed at him with a chain-wrapped hand. "Tonight, you survive her blade. Tomorrow, you die to mine."
Lucian matched his stare. "You're confident for someone who didn't fight me himself."
Draven's grin sharpened. "Jarek was the weakest of us. _I_ am the one who finishes what my blood starts."
Lucian's veins dimmed and steadied—not flaring uncontrollably this time, but pulsing in something closer to resolve.
The Core approved.
Draven noticed. His grin widened further.
"Oh, I'm going to enjoy tearing that glow out of you."
He turned and walked away, chains dragging behind him like the tail of a metal serpent.
Once he was gone, the Warden exhaled. "Draven is not like Jarek. He does not fight for rank. He fights for blood."
Lucian wiped sweat from his brow. "Then let him come."
The Warden raised an eyebrow. "Bravado looks ridiculous on you."
Lucian groaned. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Lucian rubbed his jaw. "I really don't get you."
"You're not supposed to," the Warden said. "Not yet."
Before Lucian could respond, another figure approached—quiet, unnoticed until she was already beside them.
Sera Thorn.
She carried a small leather satchel and wore a look that said she would sooner punch the sky than offer comfort. But something like concern flickered behind her eyes.
"You need this," she said curtly.
Lucian accepted the satchel. "What is it?"
"Protein mix. Dried meat. Healing herbs," Sera said. "Because tonight, you'll bleed."
Lucian frowned. "Helpful."
"Not for your sake," Sera said. "Kaelis doesn't go easy. The stronger you are, the more interesting the fight is for her."
Lucian swallowed. "Does she… enjoy hurting people?"
"No," Sera said. "She enjoys exposing truth."
The Warden nodded. "Kaelis does not test bodies. She tests purpose."
Lucian felt something cold settle in his chest. "And if I don't have one?"
Sera's voice softened just slightly. "Then she'll break you until you find one… or die in the attempt."
Lucian stared down at the training mat.
The shadows around him stretched longer as the runes overhead dimmed—the Pits' version of dusk creeping in.
The Warden clapped his hands sharply. "Enough. Lucian needs focus, not fear."
Sera stepped back. "Then hurry. Time isn't waiting."
Lucian turned toward the center of the hall again.
"I'm ready to train," he said.
"No," the Warden replied. "You're ready to understand."
Lucian blinked. "Understand what?"
The Warden gestured around the hall. "Every fighter here knows what drives them."
A woman slammed her fists into a stone pillar—
raw power.
A man wrestled a beast twice his size—
domination.
A pair of siblings sparred in perfect harmony—
unity.
The Warden pointed at Sera. "She fights for creed."
Then he pointed at Lucian.
"And you fight because…?"
Lucian's mouth opened.
Closed.
He had no answer.
"Exactly," the Warden said. "And that is lethal."
Lucian clenched his fists. "Then tell me what my purpose is."
"No," the Warden said. "Find it. Before Kaelis finds it for you."
Lucian felt heat crawl up his throat. "And what does she see?"
"That is not mine to say," the Warden replied. "But I will tell you this—Kaelis never tests someone who lacks potential."
Lucian blinked. "So… she thinks I can climb?"
"She thinks you are dangerous," the Warden corrected.
Lucian froze.
"Dangerous?" he repeated.
"Yes," the Warden said. "To yourself. To others. To the world above."
Lucian felt the ground tilt.
The Core beat harder—
not unstable,
but awakened by some truth it already knew.
The Warden's voice dropped.
"Kaelis sees a path for you that you cannot yet see. That is why she fears you."
Lucian's breath hitched. "Kaelis fears me?"
"Yes," the Warden said. "And fear makes her blade sharper."
Lucian felt the Core pulse harder at that.
Sera nodded grimly. "Whatever she sees… it's enough that she's preparing for you. That alone should terrify you."
Lucian's heart hammered.
"Great," he muttered. "So she thinks I'm a threat and Draven wants me dead. This keeps getting better."
"If it makes you feel any better," Sera said, "half the Pits wants you dead too."
Lucian glared. "You're terrible at reassurance."
Sera shrugged. "I'm a Thorn. We don't comfort. We inform."
Lucian rubbed his temples. "Fantastic."
The Warden clapped his hands sharply, pulling Lucian's attention back to him.
"This is your final hour before the fight," the Warden said. "No more drills. No more footwork. No more practice."
Lucian frowned. "Then what?"
"Sit," the Warden commanded.
Lucian hesitated. "Sit?"
"Yes," the Warden said. "Sit, breathe, and listen."
Lucian reluctantly sank onto the mat.
The Warden knelt in front of him. "Close your eyes."
Lucian obeyed.
"Now," the Warden said. "Tell me the first thing you remember from your past life."
Lucian inhaled slowly. Memories swirled.
A battlefield.
A voice.
A blade.
Silver eyes.
Pain.
"Kaelis," Lucian whispered. "I remember her. I remember… she killed me."
The Warden nodded. "Good. Now tell me the last emotion you felt before you died."
Lucian's hands trembled.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Not confusion.
Something softer.
Something that hurt more than death.
"Love," Lucian whispered.
Sera's eyebrows shot up.
The Warden's expression didn't change.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Lucian swallowed hard. "What does that mean?"
"It means," the Warden said, "you are not driven by survival."
Lucian opened his eyes. "Then what drives me?"
The Warden's gaze sharpened.
"Connection."
Lucian felt the words strike something inside him—a truth he hadn't named, but one the Core recognized instantly.
His veins pulsed—
bright, clear, not unstable—
alive.
Sera stepped closer. "Connection is dangerous in the Pits."
The Warden nodded. "And powerful."
Lucian inhaled deeply.
Maybe he didn't know everything yet.
Maybe he didn't remember enough.
But one thing was becoming clear—
He wasn't fighting for survival alone.
He was fighting for answers.
For memory.
For the truth behind that blade, that girl, that love, that death.
And for the Core whispering inside him, guiding him toward something larger.
The Warden rose. "Your purpose is awakening. Good. You will need it tonight."
Lucian looked up. "Warden… what if Kaelis kills me again?"
The Warden held his gaze.
"Then you climb from the ashes," he said, "and steal that skill too."
The Pits changed when night approached.
Training slowed.
Tension thickened.
Fighters drifted toward the observation balconies like vultures sensing a kill.
Runes dimmed to a quieter green, pulsing like the heartbeat of something massive buried below.
Everyone knew a Marshal's duel was coming.
Marshal duels didn't happen often. And when they did, the entire underground world listened.
Lucian tightened his wraps around his wrists, breath steady but tense. The Warden walked beside him in silence, guiding him through winding halls toward the Arena core.
Fighters stepped aside as they passed.
Some murmured.
Some smirked.
Most simply stared.
To them, he wasn't Lucian.
He was spectacle.
Prey.
A flickering candle about to enter a hurricane.
The Warden stopped at a massive iron door carved with swirling ash sigils.
"This is the preparation chamber," he said. "Kaelis is already inside."
Lucian's heart thudded. "So this is really happening."
"Yes," the Warden said. "Whether you're ready or not."
Lucian inhaled slowly. "Any final advice?"
The Warden thought for a long moment.
Then he said:
"Yes. Don't die."
Lucian groaned. "That's it?"
"That's it."
Before Lucian could shove him, the Warden added:
"And listen. Kaelis doesn't fight to kill you. She fights to teach you. But her lessons are pain written in muscle and memory. Do not confuse pain with failure."
Lucian nodded slowly. "And if I do fail?"
"Then at least fail interestingly," the Warden muttered. "I've bet on you."
Lucian blinked. "You what?"
But the Warden pushed him through the door before he could respond.
The preparation chamber was quiet and glowing with faint torchlight. A single raised platform stood at the center, covered in ash-dusted mats. Weapons lined the walls—though none would be used tonight.
Kaelis stood alone in the middle of the room.
Silver-eyed.
Composed.
Still as a blade in its scabbard.
She didn't look at him right away. She stood with her back turned, practices slow breaths as if reaching inward for something he couldn't see.
Lucian swallowed.
This wasn't the Kaelis who oversaw ranked matches.
This wasn't the cold Marshal of steel and judgment.
This was someone preparing for something personal.
Something she didn't entrust to the world.
Lucian cleared his throat. "I'm here."
Kaelis opened her eyes.
The room shifted.
Not physically. Not visibly.
But Lucian felt a pull—like her presence alone altered the air around them.
"Lucian Raine," she said softly. "You're trembling."
Lucian stiffened. "I'm not afraid."
Kaelis approached him slowly. "You should be."
Lucian bit his tongue.
She stopped a few feet away, studying the faint glow in his veins.
"The Core inside you responds to me," she murmured. "That is… inconvenient."
Lucian felt his breath hitch. "Why? What am I to you?"
Kaelis inhaled sharply—as if the question itself wounded her.
"You are a memory I cannot forget," she whispered.
Lucian blinked. "But… Sera said—"
"Forget Sera," Kaelis cut in. "Forget the Warden. Forget this entire place. Tonight's duel is between you and the fragments buried inside your Core."
Lucian swallowed. "And you know those fragments."
Kaelis closed her eyes.
"Yes."
"How?" he pressed quietly.
She opened her eyes—pain in her gaze.
"Because I killed you in the last life," she said. "And I watched you die in my arms."
Lucian's chest constricted. "Why?"
Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes—but didn't fall.
"Because you asked me to," she whispered.
Lucian staggered back as something broke open inside his mind—
a flash of memory—
silver eyes above him—
a battlefield of ash—
a blade descending—
his own voice whispering:
_Do it._
Lucian gasped as the Core pulsed violently, surging heat through his veins.
Kaelis's expression hardened instantly. "Stop. Breathe. Do not let it destabilize you."
"I—I don't understand," Lucian said through gritted teeth. "Why would I ask you to—"
"Because you were becoming something terrible," Kaelis said. "Something neither of us could control."
Lucian's spine chilled.
"And now," she continued, "the world has allowed you to return. To rise. To evolve again."
Lucian stared at her. "Do you think I'll become that again?"
Kaelis's jaw tightened.
"I don't know."
The silence between them quivered.
Kaelis finally stepped back. "Enough memory. You're not ready."
Lucian clenched his fists. "Then why fight me?"
Kaelis exhaled.
"Because evolution requires confrontation," she said. "And you evolve when pushed by someone who understands the shape of your soul."
Lucian felt his throat grow tight. "And that's you."
"Yes," she whispered. "Whether I want it or not."
A horn echoed through the Arena halls above—
the call signaling the start of a Marshal's duel.
Kaelis straightened.
"Prepare yourself," she said. "This duel is not about winning."
Lucian frowned. "Then what is it about?"
Kaelis's eyes glimmered.
"Revelation."
The Arena was already packed.
Fighters filled the balconies. Guards lined the walls. Even Beastmasters and high-ranked warriors who rarely watched lower duels came to see this one.
Marshal duels were rare.
Marshal duels involving a reincarnator were unheard of.
The moment Lucian stepped onto the ascending platform, a wave of whispers surged.
"That's him."
"He's glowing again."
"He looks terrified."
"He should be."
"No reincarnator lasts long against Kaelis."
The Arena floor lifted.
And Kaelis stepped into the circle opposite him.
She wasn't armored.
Wasn't armed.
She wore simple fighting wraps around her hands and feet—nothing more.
Yet she radiated more danger than Draven, more threat than any beast.
Her eyes met his.
"Lucian Raine," she said. "Your test begins."
Lucian swallowed. "What do I do?"
"Show me who you are," Kaelis said softly. "Not your Core. Not your fear. You."
Lucian clenched his fists.
"I don't know who I am."
Kaelis stepped closer.
"Then we begin by stripping away who you are not."
She raised her hand—
and the ash-sigils around the Arena lit up with silver flames, sealing the space.
Lucian felt the Core surge.
And Kaelis whispered:
"Fight."
Lucian barely had time to blink before Kaelis moved.
Not ran.
Not lunged.
Simply **appeared** in front of him—a blur of silver eyes and controlled breath.
Her palm struck his chest.
Lucian flew backward.
His body hit the Arena floor hard enough to send a shockwave through his ribs. He gasped, rolling to his side, struggling to inhale. The Core pulsed, flaring faintly in response.
Kaelis didn't follow up.
She simply stood there.
Waiting.
"Get up," she said quietly.
Lucian staggered to his feet, legs shaking.
"You didn't even give me time to prepare," he said, breath shallow.
"I gave you five chapters of time," Kaelis said flatly. "Prepare faster."
Lucian glared and dashed forward—
Chain Footwork guiding him—
Feral Instinct powering his stride.
He shifted left—
stepped inside—
drove his fist toward her jaw.
Kaelis tilted her head.
Lucian's punch hit empty air.
She tapped him behind the neck—
not enough to injure—
but enough to send him stumbling again.
"Too slow," she murmured.
Lucian spun and swung again—
high, low, feint, pivot—
but Kaelis evaded every motion with impossible fluidity.
She wasn't reading him.
She wasn't reacting.
She was **anticipating** him.
Memories pressed on him—
her blade
his dying breath
her tears
his whisper—
_Do it._
_End it._
_Please._
Lucian faltered.
Kaelis saw it instantly.
She swept his leg out from under him, sending him crashing onto his back.
The crowd murmured.
"He can't touch her."
"Not even close."
"She's dismantling him."
"Why is she holding back?"
"She hasn't even started."
Lucian pushed himself up again.
Veins flickering—erratic, unstable—reacting to his fear and frustration.
The Core pulsed sharply:
**WARNING: MEMORY INSTABILITY**
**EMOTIONAL OVERLOAD DETECTED**
Lucian clenched his fists. "Stop holding back."
Kaelis's eyes narrowed. "No."
Lucian snarled, "You said you wanted to teach me."
"And I am," Kaelis said. "Lesson one—control your Core, or it will kill you faster than any opponent."
Lucian dashed forward again.
Kaelis didn't move.
Lucian's fist flew toward her face—
only for Kaelis to catch it effortlessly.
Her fingers tightened just enough to make him wince.
"You fight like a man escaping something," she murmured. "Not like one moving toward anything."
Lucian growled, "Then tell me what I'm supposed to move toward!"
Kaelis twisted, flipping him over her shoulder. Lucian hit the ground hard.
"You tell me," she said. "Your purpose is not mine to give."
Lucian rolled away as she stepped forward, her shadow cutting across his vision.
"You trained with Jarek's instinct," Kaelis said softly. "But that's not your power."
Lucian forced himself up, panting. "Then what is?"
Kaelis pointed to his chest—the glowing veins pulsing violently.
"That," she said. "Connection."
Lucian froze.
"That is what your Core responds to," Kaelis continued. "Not violence. Not anger. Not pride. But the bonds you make."
Lucian shook his head. "That makes no sense. How does connection help me fight?"
Kaelis moved.
Lucian attacked on instinct—
Chain Footwork—
Feral aggression—
pivot, strike, dodge—
But Kaelis slipped past every blow like a memory he couldn't hold onto.
She whispered into his ear as she passed him:
"Connection does not make you fight alone."
Lucian whirled—and finally landed a hit.
Barely.
A grazing blow across her forearm.
But it was something.
His Core pulsed—
green light surging in response—
**COPY POSSIBILITY: 1% — TARGET: KAELIS DORNE (MOTION READING)**
Lucian's breath caught.
Kaelis smiled faintly.
"Good," she murmured. "Now evolve it."
Lucian blinked. "How—"
Kaelis kicked him across the Arena.
He slammed into the railing, coughing blood.
The crowd erupted.
"Finally, some blood!"
"She tagged him hard."
"He's done."
"He should yield."
Lucian forced himself to stand.
The Core pulsed painfully as memory and instinct clashed inside him.
He caught her movement before she made it.
Not perfectly.
Not clearly.
But he felt it—
a faint tug, a shift in the air.
She moved left—
and Lucian moved too.
She struck low—
Lucian blocked—
barely.
She swung high—
Lucian ducked—
late, but not flat-footed.
Kaelis smiled, sweat forming at her temples.
"Yes," she breathed. "That's it."
Lucian's veins glowed brighter.
The Core surged—
**MOTION READING (1%) ACQUIRED**
**AGILITY +1%**
**SENSE AUGMENT +1%**
Lucian blinked.
Kaelis's next move wasn't visible.
It was _felt_.
A whisper of intent.
A flicker of momentum.
Lucian countered—
fist rising—
blocking her strike—
The crowd gasped.
Kaelis stepped back, eyes sharp.
Lucian panted. "Did I… stop you?"
"You reacted," she said. "But you didn't decide."
Lucian frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Kaelis said, "your body moves toward connection… but your mind still runs from truth."
Lucian's heart hammered. "Then push me."
Kaelis nodded once.
"Very well."
She blurred.
Lucian felt dozens of strikes before seeing any of them—
each one barely blocked, barely evaded, barely survived.
His Core pulsed harder—
veins glowing—
light cracking across his skin—
**UNSTABLE STATE APPROACHING**
**CORE OVERLOAD RISK**
Lucian clenched his fists. "I can handle it!"
Kaelis struck him in the chest—
not hard enough to kill—
but hard enough to collapse him.
He gasped on the ground.
Kaelis knelt beside him.
Her voice was soft. And devastating.
"You cannot evolve while running from your death."
Lucian swallowed blood. "Then show me. Help me remember."
Kaelis shook her head.
"No," she whispered. "But I can show you the shape of the path."
She pressed two fingers to Lucian's forehead.
A flash tore through him.
A battlefield.
A broken sky.
Himself—standing tall, glowing, monstrous—
and her—crying, bloodied—
raising a blade toward him with trembling hands.
_"Please… stop. Please stop before you destroy everything."_
_"I can't."_
_"Then forgive me."_
The blade fell.
Lucian screamed.
The vision shattered.
Kaelis pulled her hand away sharply.
Lucian collapsed, gasping, clutching his head.
The Arena went silent.
Kaelis stood over him, expression agonized.
"I did not want you to see that," she whispered. "Not yet."
Lucian's voice cracked. "What… what was I? What did I become?"
Kaelis closed her eyes.
"You became someone who no longer saw people," she said. "Only power."
Lucian shook. "And you killed me for it."
"Yes."
Lucian forced himself to his knees.
"And now? Do you think I'll become that again?"
Kaelis opened her eyes.
"I fear it," she said softly. "But I also hope you won't."
Lucian's Core pulsed—
calmer now—
as if soothed by truth.
He rose unsteadily.
Kaelis smiled faintly.
"Then your lesson is complete," she said. "Stand."
Lucian stood.
The Arena lights dimmed.
The sigils lifted.
Kaelis raised her voice for all to hear:
"Lucian Raine has completed the Marshal's Trial."
A wave of stunned whispers swept the crowd.
"He survived?"
"He didn't die?"
"No reincarnator lasts through that!"
"What does this mean for the ranks?"
"Is he going to climb?"
Kaelis looked at Lucian once more.
Quietly.
Intimately.
"You still owe me a promise," she said.
Lucian blinked. "Which one?"
Her voice trembled.
"Don't make me kill you again."
Lucian's breath caught.
Before he could respond, a metallic clatter echoed in the hallway behind the Arena.
Chains.
Draven Coil's voice boomed through the entrance:
"Lucian! Your turn with the Marshal is over."
The crowd spun toward him.
His chains rattled like a threat forged into steel.
"Now," Draven growled, "I'll show you how a Coil settles a blood debt."
Lucian swore under his breath.
Kaelis stepped back, eyes flickering with warning.
"Your next trial," she murmured, "begins now."