Written by: Chris Chret © 2026
The colosseum smelled of iron, sweat, and old blood.
Beneath the stone vaults, the fighters prepared for another day that could be their last. The guards handed out armor — scratched, dented, worn by men who had never walked out of the arena alive. Helmets clashed against one another, straps were tightened, weapons were lifted and tested in hands that had already killed too many times just to survive.
Edric took a sword.
Not the biggest one.
Not the most beautiful one.
The one that fit his hand best.
He turned to his group — men broken by battles, but still standing.
"Today," he said loudly, "we do not fight only for our lives."
The gazes rose toward him.
"We fight for our friends as well. For those who fell. Today is the day of judgment for our survival."
He raised his sword.
"We will stand together. We will hold the line together. We will survive together."
He tightened his voice and shouted:
"Tell me — who are we?!"
The shout echoed.
"THE KNIGHTS OF THE ASH!"
"We will crush everything before us," Edric said through clenched teeth.
At that moment, the guard entered. The gates opened, but not for everyone. Part of the men were separated. Some of Edric's knights remained behind bars.
The others were pushed forward.
The colosseum greeted them with roaring.
Thousands of people were gathered. They screamed, pounded, demanded blood. On the honorary stand sat the king of Ashkar — the fifteen-year-old Kael Vashkar, accompanied by Iskra Azhara, Azran Al-Raqem, and Varyn Thornevald.
The fighters entered and knelt.
Edric was among them.
The battle began.
Edric's group was smaller. They held together, formed a circle. The others — savages accustomed to the colosseum — struck without mercy.
Steel clashed against steel. Fists against jaws. Men fell.
Edric shouted, swung, bled.
One man charged at him — Edric struck him directly in the eye. The man fell to his knees, then to the ground.
The fight continued.
Only a few remained.
Among them — a massive man. A monster. The one who had killed the most men in the colosseum.
Fear spread.
"Fall back!" Edric shouted.
He charged toward the giant.
The blow was terrifying.
A kick to the chest. The armor shattered. Edric flew, rolled through the sand, his face smeared with blood and dust.
He stood up.
He took off the armor and threw it away.
He raised his arms and shouted:
"I WILL NOT DIE TODAY!"
The crowd fell silent.
The giant charged with a mace.
Edric ducked — and drove the sword under the man's jaw, through the skull.
The body fell. The sword remained in the head.
The fight was stopped.
The survivors were taken back to the colosseum's prison.
When they returned to the remaining knights, they were met by silence. They were less than half of those who had gone out. All wounded. Broken.
Hope was dying.
But King Kael looked at Edric differently.
⸻
In Dravion, the twins Nocten and Aurel Thornevald sat on the thrones.
A letter arrived.
From Serpentis.
The words were clear:
The island would sink.
Ships without number.
Revenge for the sins of their father.
Nocten crushed the letter.
"We must act. Now."
"No," Aurel said. "It is better to wait for them."
"If you want — stay," Nocten replied. "I am going to fight for our land. Together. For the first time."
Aurel was silent.
Then he said, "Prepare the ships."
They set sail at night. They arrived in the morning.
Silence.
They continued through the forest of the Eldershade Wilds.
And then — arrows.
Men fell before they realized where they were coming from.
Knights of Serpentis — around one hundred and fifty — hidden in the trees.
A battle of shadows.
Nocten took a spear and drove it through the tree — and through the man behind it.
In the end, they destroyed the archers.
But it was a trap.
The echo of the battle summoned the King's Guardian of Serpentis. A massive army appeared.
Dravion was smaller. Exhausted.
"Hold together!" Aurel shouted.
But Nocten was already running.
And Aurel had no other choice — he followed his brother, as did the remaining knights.
Clash.
Swords. Blood. Fear.
The King's Guardian of Serpentis fought fiercely and destroyed everything before him and became fear among the ranks of Dravion.
The twins fought as one. Two blades — one circle. Around them, about twenty bodies fell.
Then the Guardian entered.
Two against one. But the Guardian was more experienced.
Swords clashed and a fierce fight began.
An epic battle.
Nocten was stabbed in the stomach.
"RETREAT!" Aurel shouted.
He pushed the Guardian back.
The Guardian let them go.
He wanted a second meeting.
Retreat to the ships.
Defeat.
Too many fallen.
Serpentis won the battle.
The ships sailed back.
Nocten fought for his life.
Blood flowed from him as the sea swallowed the traces of their defeat.
And in the darkness, fate laughed.
End of Chapter 10.