Abyssborn

The horses gradually slowed down, and the wagon came to a halt on the wide stone-paved street. The creaking of the axles subsided, replaced by a low rumble that seemed to breathe behind the massive gates. Nait craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse of the city beyond the enormous archway. His gaze was immediately drawn to the intricate carvings on the stone slabs of the gate. Golden lines intertwined, forming bizarre patterns that seemed to shift and dance under the sunlight.

"Is that... gold? Like, real gold?" Nait exhaled, leaning forward slightly.

"Small-town vibes..." Zein sighed loudly, clapping him on the shoulder. "The real question isn't whether it's real gold. The real question is how we're gonna pry it off. Think if I jump off your shoulders, I could reach it?"

"You definitely couldn't," Nait waved him off, but a faint smirk tugged at his lips.

"And you're definitely not stealing anything," Lucas cut in sharply. His voice hit like cold water on a hot stone, instantly dousing the playful banter. "Especially not here in the capital. Even the rats in the marketplace keep things in order."

Nait barely managed to mumble something in response before their wagon rolled through the archway, and the city unfolded before them.

Vordane was a living giant.

The noise here felt almost tangible: the murmur of voices, the clatter of horses' hooves, the clang of metal, and the shouts of merchants trying to out-yell one another filled the air. Tall buildings stood packed along the streets, their windows reflecting light, and narrow bridges between them formed a web-like pattern overhead. The streets teemed with people—everyone from velvet-cloaked nobles to scrappy delivery boys weaving through the crowd with trays in hand.

The air was alive with scents: spices, roasted meat, dust, and something unplaceable that made Nait instinctively hold his breath. In the distance, tall towers crowned with strange glowing spheres stood out. They gleamed like beacons, even in the bright daylight.

"Alright, fine, I'm impressed," Zein admitted, turning his head this way and that, as if trying to take in everything at once. "But who's the boss around here? The merchants, or maybe that guy over there in the hat? If I say he looks shady, is that offensive?"

"The boss here is the guy making more money in a day than you will in your entire life," Conrad snapped irritably. He gripped his hammer as if ready to swing it at any moment. "And shut up. You're getting on my nerves."

"Come on, Conrad," Zein leaned against the side of the wagon, leaning slightly forward. "You've obviously seen cities like this before. What's the verdict? Or is there some romance from your capital days you've been keeping secret?"

Conrad's grip on his hammer tightened as he shot Zein a cold glare.

"Here's my verdict: this city isn't a place for dreamers. You're either chasing prey, or you are the prey. So don't you dare act like a fool, kid."

"Still sounds romantic to me," Zein grinned.

Lucas turned to look at them, and Zein immediately fell silent.

"Vordane isn't just a city. It's the center of the world. Whatever happens here ripples through even the farthest corners of the country. No matter where you're from, remember this: here, power rules everything."

Nait finally tore his eyes away from the bustling streets to mutter, "Even... people like us? You know, nobodies from the sticks?"

"Especially people like you," Lucas replied. His tone was neutral, but that only made it colder.

The wagon stopped at a small square. Nait, the first to climb out, suddenly felt the city's noise crash over him like a wave. He turned to Zein, who was already by his side, as usual.

"It's beautiful, though," Nait said softly.

"That's until the first pickpocket snatches your coin pouch," Zein laughed. "And I'll have to think about whether or not I'll save you when it happens."

They followed Lucas, who led them confidently through the throng toward a building visible at the end of the street. Nait narrowly avoided bumping into people a few times. Some of them threw annoyed looks his way, but Nait barely noticed.

The building they were heading toward was massive and unyielding in its design.

The tall doors made of dark metal, framed by stone columns, looked like a gateway to another world. On the walls, faint lines could be seen—at first glance, they seemed like cracks, but as Nait looked closer, he realized they were not cracks but carved symbols glowing with a faint blue light from deep within the stone.

"So, what is this place?" Zein asked, tilting his head back to take it all in. "Let me guess: a prison? A temple? Or both?"

"This is the Order's Hall," Lucas replied curtly.

"A Hall? That sounds... way too cozy for a building like this."

Conrad scoffed again as he walked past them.

"Both of you, shut up. Let's go."

The doors creaked open, revealing an enormous hall.

Inside, the building was even more imposing than it appeared from the outside. The high vaulted ceiling stretched upward, seemingly endless, while on either side of the massive central hall stood statues—somber and majestic. Each depicted a figure wielding a weapon: a sword, a spear, and one with empty hands outstretched as if to embrace the entire world.

"Now this is what I call a reception area," Zein whispered, craning his neck. "Check out that one on the left. He's definitely a dentist. Look at that face—he's tortured someone for sure."

Nait stayed silent, feeling as though the statues were staring right back at him. Lost in thought, he didn't immediately notice the man approaching them.

The man was tall, with fiery red hair tied back in a careless ponytail, and wore a black uniform with a silver emblem on his chest.

"Lucas," he said, sounding mildly surprised to see him. "You actually brought someone new. Though I have to say, I wasn't expecting... uh, these."

His gaze swept over Zein, Nait, and even Conrad, who gave a brief nod but stayed at the back.

"People like them often surprise, Master Drake," Lucas replied evenly.

"We'll see, we'll see," the man muttered, crossing his arms. Then he clapped his hands loudly, the sound echoing through the hall. "Newcomers, to me! Move it, I don't have all day to wait for you to figure out where the bathrooms are!"

From various corners of the hall, participants began to gather. Nait noticed there were far more of them than he'd expected—sixty at least. Some looked confident, dressed in fine cloaks and armed to the teeth, while others were visibly nervous. A few stood with an air of smug certainty, as if they were already planning their victory speeches.

"Wow, what a mixed bag," Zein whispered. "I'll bet you three coins half of them don't make it past the first trial."

"Keep your bets to yourself," Nait muttered, trying not to reveal that he felt just as unsure as those here for the first time.

Master Drake scanned the group, his expression growing stern.

"Listen up, and I'll only say this once," he barked, his voice sharp and commanding like a hammer strike. "You're here because you want to prove you're worthy of the Order. But out of the sixty of you, only thirty will remain. Those who are weak, cowardly, or don't know why they're here will be gone by the end of the day."

A low murmur rippled through the crowd, but Drake silenced it with a single motion.

"The first trial is individual. No teams, no help. You'll have to show what you're capable of." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Each of you will be given a crystal. This isn't just an object—it's your life for the next hour. If your crystal is destroyed, you're out. All the points you've earned will go to the one who destroyed it."

A chill ran down Nait's spine. He instinctively glanced at Zein, who smirked and muttered, "Stick it in your pants, genius. At least you'll stand a chance."

"You should take this seriously, Zein," Nait grumbled under his breath.

"What's the point of stressing? We'll either pass or die. And I'm not planning on the second option."

Drake continued:

"The arena will have monsters. Their strength will vary. The stronger the monster, the more points you'll earn for killing it. Weak ones are worth one or two points. Mid-level ones, five to ten. Strong ones, fifteen to twenty. But remember: time is limited. An hour can be salvation—or an eternity."

His gaze lingered on each participant, as if he were personally assessing who was weak and who might survive.

"One more thing: you're allowed to form alliances. No one's stopping you from teaming up temporarily to take down a stronger foe. But! In the end, only thirty will remain. And the points will only be yours. Choose wisely who you trust."

He gestured toward a massive door at the far end of the hall. It was made of gray stone, with narrow slits glowing with a soft blue light.

"Once you pass through there, you'll be assigned to the arena. That's it. No luck, no advice. Let your actions speak. Move."

The door began to open slowly. Nait took a deep breath, feeling the sweat on his palms. Zein nudged him lightly with his elbow.

"Don't forget to breathe. Wouldn't want you dropping dead before the fun starts."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Nait muttered, trying to keep the tremble out of his voice.

Lucas watched them silently, as though evaluating how each of them was holding up. Conrad stood nearby, his gaze cold and distant, as if the entire situation didn't concern him in the slightest.

"You'll do fine," Lucas suddenly said, his voice quieter than usual.

The words were unexpected, but they eased some of the tension in Nait's chest. He nodded, clenching his fists.

As the crowd began moving toward the door, Nait, Zein, and the rest disappeared into the flow of people.

The chaotic and noisy crowd gradually began to form something resembling order as the participants moved toward the exit. Nait and Zein stuck close to each other. Lucas and Conrad remained behind, observing them like teachers evaluating students during an exam.

The corridors leading them onward were spacious, but each step echoed loudly, as if the Order's Hall itself was watching their every move. The exit door opened into a side street, which led to a large square.

The crowd moved slowly, some people whispering to each other, others walking in silence. Nait noticed a few individuals in the group who stood out, drawing attention without even trying.

The first was a girl walking ahead of the group. She had short blonde hair that shimmered in the sunlight. Her posture exuded authority, as though she was born to lead. Her silver armor gleamed, and the sword strapped to her back looked well-used, as if it had seen countless battles. Her face was calm, but her gaze was cold and piercing, like a judge who had already passed sentence.

"Now that's determination," Zein whispered, nudging Nait with his elbow. "That girl looks like she's ready to cut all of us down. Bet if you tried talking to her, she wouldn't even glance your way."

"Maybe she wouldn't, but… she's strong," Nait replied thoughtfully, feeling an odd tension in her presence.

A short distance away from her was a guy who seemed to be her complete opposite. His dark hair was long and tied in a braid. He wore simple clothing, but his expression was tense and wolf-like. A large bow was slung across his back, and a quiver of arrows and a small dagger hung at his waist. He didn't speak to anyone but seemed to watch everyone's every move with sharp focus.

"That one… a hunter?" Nait guessed.

"Hunter, assassin, what's the difference?" Zein snorted. "Look at his hands. Bet his fingers are sharper than blades."

"Cut it out," Nait said, trying to calm his friend, though he couldn't stop himself from glancing back.

Another participant who caught their attention walked slightly to the side. He was a tall guy with short, messy red hair sticking out in all directions. A sly grin lit up his face, like he'd already figured out how to outsmart everyone. He wore light leather armor, more like a traveler's gear than proper protection, and a battleaxe hung loosely on his back.

"Now that guy's just weird," Nait muttered, unable to look away.

"Yeah, but he's fun. I'm betting on him," Zein chuckled. "See the way he's eyeing everyone? That guy's ready to jump into any fight just for the thrill of it."

But the one who made Nait feel the most uneasy was a middle-aged man further down the group. His head was completely shaved, and his dark skin was smooth and unmarked. His face betrayed no emotion, but his very presence radiated strength and confidence. He moved with perfect grace, holding a staff that looked ancient but unbreakable.

"That one… something's off about him," Nait whispered.

"Damn right it is," Zein agreed. "He looks like he's here not for the tournament but to kill someone. Bet he's been in something like this before—and maybe even left bodies behind."

The crowd turned a corner and emerged onto the square.

The square was far larger than Nait had anticipated. In its center stood a massive stone platform, paved with smooth tiles and edged with glowing symbols. The blue light emanating from the symbols gave the impression that the platform was hovering slightly above the ground. Participants were already beginning to gather around it, and the tension in the air was palpable.

Columns rose above the platform, connected by invisible lines of light. Occasionally, flashes of lightning-like energy arced between the columns, vanishing without a sound.

"Teleportation, huh," Zein muttered, squinting at the platform. "Gotta admit, it's… uh, not exactly friendly-looking. Hope I don't end up at the bottom of some river."

"Focus," Nait murmured, his eyes locked on the symbols glowing on the platform. They were mesmerizing but unnerving at the same time.

"You know teleportation isn't the real concern, right?" Zein continued. "The real issue is what's on the other side. And hey, since it's every man for himself, I don't see the point in teaming up. We both know we're strong enough to rack up points and make it through."

Nait frowned, turning to his friend.

"Are you serious? You don't think teaming up might give us a better chance to last longer?"

Zein rolled his eyes with a grin.

"Look, I get it, you're all about the 'we're stronger together' thing, but let's be honest. We have no clue what kind of creatures we'll face out there. I just want to make sure I don't have to babysit anyone, okay? And you know I can handle myself. Same goes for you."

"But what if they team up against us, Zein? What then?"

"Then let them try!" Zein grinned broadly, clapping Nait on the shoulder. "What are you so afraid of? We'll make it into the top thirty, no sweat. It'll be easy-peasy, Nait. Just stay out of everyone's way, and you're golden."

"Easy-peasy," Nait muttered, though he wasn't convinced his friend's words were as reassuring as they were meant to be.

At that moment, Master Drake stepped up to the platform, his fiery red hair glinting in the sunlight. He raised a hand, drawing everyone's attention.

"Gather around, rookies! Don't make me repeat myself. We've got a plan, and you'll follow it if you don't want to fail!"

The crowd quickly moved closer to the platform, and Nait felt the air grow even heavier with tension. The once-chatty or indifferent participants now wore focused, determined expressions.

"Alright, you know the rules," Drake began, folding his arms across his chest. "Each of you will receive a crystal before you're sent off. The platform will randomly assign your starting positions in the arena. Don't worry, it's big enough that you won't bump into each other right away. But if you stand around doing nothing, you'll lose. Your goal is points. Kill monsters. The stronger the monster, the more points you earn. Simple as that."

He took a step forward, his voice hardening.

"Remember: your crystal is your life. If it's destroyed, you're out. And all your points go to the one who took it. So protect it, hide it, or prepare to leave in disgrace."

"Anything else?" Zein whispered to Nait. "Maybe he wants to tell us how to breathe properly, too?"

"Just listen," Nait whispered back.

Drake turned sharply and pointed to the platform.

"Step up one at a time. The platform will determine where you go. From there, it's all up to you. The clock is ticking. Show me what you're made of."

The crowd began lining up. Some moved confidently, others hesitated. Nait felt the crystal in his hand grow warmer.

"Your turn, big guy," Zein said with a smirk, stepping aside for Nait. "Don't forget—'easy-peasy.'"

"You better remember your own advice," Nait shot back, stepping toward the platform and trying not to think about what awaited him on the other side.

One by one, the participants stepped onto the platform and disappeared in flashes of blinding light. When Nait's turn came, he gritted his teeth, stepped onto the stone, and felt a chill course through his body. The symbols beneath his feet glowed brighter, the vibrations intensified, and everything around him dissolved into a radiant burst of light.

The world reassembled itself. Nait found himself in a forest—a dark, oppressive woodland surrounded him on all sides. Towering trees loomed overhead, their canopies lost in a dense fog. There was little light, and even the faint breeze weaving through the trunks felt like a warning. The ground beneath his feet was damp and slick. Somewhere in the distance, a low growl echoed, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

Nait looked down at the crystal in his hand. Its soft blue glow was oddly comforting, but he gripped it tighter, determined not to let it slip.

"Alright, let's do this," he muttered to himself.

Elsewhere in the arena, Zein was surveying his surroundings. He had landed in a rocky plain dotted with boulders. The air was dry and heavy, and each step kicked up clouds of dust. The landscape seemed desolate, but there was an underlying sense of danger—the silence here felt unnatural.

"Well, isn't this lovely," Zein said quietly, running a hand over the crystal in his pocket. His face was calm, almost amused. "Alright, beasts, let's see what you've got."

He looked up, focusing on distant shadows that began to shift against the backdrop of the rocks.

The game had begun.