Blood and Chains

The pits were more than just an arena—they were a statement. A declaration from the ruling guilds that power was the only law that mattered. Fighters bled for sport while nobles and criminals alike placed bets, turning suffering into spectacle. If Dorian wanted to destroy it, he would need more than just anger.

He would need a plan.

The outer perimeter of the pits was guarded by mercenaries from the local guild, men and women clad in mismatched armor, their weapons gleaming under the torchlight. Most of them were low-level fighters, hired thugs who took coin over conscience. Dorian could deal with them easily. The real problem lay within—the Enforcers, the ones who ran the pit itself. Men like the one who had taken everything from him.

He crouched behind a stack of rusted barrels, scanning the area. Calla was beside him, her small form tense with anticipation.

"You sure you can do this?" she whispered.

Dorian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting his breathing steady. He could feel his wounds, the dull ache of barely healed injuries, but his bloodline was working, keeping him on his feet. Keeping him alive.

"We don't have a choice," he murmured back. "You wanted your brother out. This is how we do it."

She swallowed hard, nodding. He could see the fear in her eyes, but beneath it, there was steel.

"Alright," she whispered. "What's the plan?"

Dorian traced a line in the dirt with his finger. "First, we need to take out the outer guards. Quietly. We can't afford to alert the Enforcers until we're inside. Once we're past them, we move through the prisoner cages, find your brother, and get him out before the alarms go off."

"And if they do?" she asked.

Dorian smirked grimly. "Then we make sure they don't live long enough to raise the alarm."

Calla didn't argue. She just nodded.

They moved quickly, sticking to the shadows, their steps silent against the damp ground. Dorian struck first, slipping behind a guard and driving his dagger into the soft spot between the man's armor plates. The body hit the ground without a sound. Calla watched, her breathing shallow, but she didn't flinch.

One by one, they dispatched the outer sentries, dragging the bodies into the shadows. Dorian wiped the blood from his blade and motioned for Calla to follow. They approached the entrance to the lower pits, where the prisoners were kept. The stench of sweat, blood, and rot filled the air, thick and suffocating.

Dorian felt the weight of his past press down on him. He had been here before, fighting for scraps, enduring pain for the amusement of others. Not this time. This time, he wasn't here to fight.

He was here to end it.

They slipped into the shadows of the underground tunnels, the distant sounds of battle echoing through the stone corridors. They walked briskly through the tunnels, Dorian navigating them perfectly, he had come back here a few times to scout it out. He had always intended to destroy the place, this was just the catalyst. It was needed, because he wasn't sure he would've ever mustered up the courage. He might've just left Greystone instead of confronting his past captors.

Speaking of past captors, he saw the first of the inner guard. There were 2 standing by a large, wooden door. He inspected them using [Cat's Eye].

[Lv. 24 Guard]

[Lv. 26 Guard]

They had their backs to the wall, and were around the corner. They couldn't see him now, but if he tried to approach them they would see him immediately. There was no way to sneak up on them. He knew what to do, but he didn't want to use her, it was dangerous - but necessary. 

"Calla, I need your help." He whispered as he turned to her, "I can't get close to them without them potentially shouting or tripping an alarm. I need you to lure them near this corner so I can kill them both swiftly."

Calla nodded, she was only 13, but life in Greystone forced you to become cold-blooded and mature. She stepped round the corner. And she had the attention of the guards now. Dorian's heart drummed in his chest, he hoped these guards weren't as evil as the rest. Some might just kill her for being in this place, or worse.

"Guards they need your help! There's a load of people trying to break into the pits and free the people!"

The guard looked at her and snorted, "We're not as gullible as you think we are, little girl." He took a few steps towards her, and hefted his spear. His companion stayed at the door, his eyes looking around for a sneak attack. "Now get the fuck out of here, before I stab you through the throat."