House of Judgement - 03

A few days passed inside the Argent Sanctum, Aden diligently training under Varek's watchful eye. But despite his best efforts, progress was slow, and the doubt in Varek's eyes grew with each passing day.

One morning, Aden was called from his cell, he marched through the winding halls of the Sanctum. His mind racing with possibilities, but his grip was iron, unyielding.

They stopped before a heavy wooden door, banded with iron and carved with runes of power. One of his captors knocked, the sound echoing in the silence, and then the door swung open, revealing a room filled with some of the most dangerous people Aden had ever seen.

Gladiators and Black Knights, their faces hard, their eyes cold. Aden recognized them from the novel, their names and deeds etched in his memory.

Lyra Voss, a ruthless strategist who would one day betray the Vascos. Garrick the Iron, a hulking berserker destined to die in the Siege of Crimson Peaks. Lady Cindra, a silent assassin with a cursed blade, who would remain loyal to the Vasco family until the very end.

Ser Varek stood at the head of the table, his face impassive as he regarded Aden. "Aden," he said, his voice flat. "You're here to show your face to the Commander. A formality, nothing more."

Aden was dragged to a corner, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. He watched as the council discussed and made decisions for various operations, addressing rumors from all throughout the empire.

Halfway through the meeting, a name was mentioned that sent a chill down Aden's spine. Kairus Varkaine, a "sword prodigy" gaining traction in the southern provinces after rescuing his county by discovering Valatium ores in their county's mountain ridges.

'Kairus... the events from the novel had already begun... I'm already behind.' Aden thought, his heart sinking.

The council dismissed the rumor, moving on to discuss a leading bandit group gaining traction in the west province, right beside Vasco territory. They planned to eliminate the bandits, their voices hard with determination.

But Aden couldn't focus on their words, his mind reeling with the realization that the events of the novel had already started, and he was powerless to stop them.

'I need to get stronger,' he thought, his jaw tight. 'I need to change the story, before it's too late.'

He had a long way to go, but he wouldn't give up. He couldn't give up.

The future depended on it.

After the meeting, Varek and Aden stood in the dimly lit hallway, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows across the stone walls. Aden's voice was urgent, his eyes pleading as he spoke.

"Ser Varek, I need your help," he said, his voice trembling with intensity. "I need to ascend to a higher realm, to grow stronger. Please, help me."

Varek's eyes narrowed as he examined Aden's body, taking in the lines of strain and fatigue etched into his face, the tremor in his hands. "Your mind and body are too weak, Aden," he said, his voice flat. "If you can't last in the training chamber, you will surely die."

Aden's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I don't care," he said, his voice low and fierce. "I need to train, and I need to do it now."

Varek's lips quirked into a smirk as he saw the determination burning in Aden's eyes, the fierce resolve that refused to be denied. "Very well," he said, his voice tinged with something like approval. "Follow me."

He led Aden through the winding halls of the Sanctum, their footsteps echoing in the silence. The air grew colder as they descended, the walls slick with frost, the torchlight flickering and dim.

At last, they reached the Original Bloodfrost Pits, a vast, circular chamber with walls of black stone, the floor a churning sea of ice and snow. The temperature swung wildly, from scorching heat to paralyzing cold, the air shimmering with the change.

Varek turned to Aden, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "Use anything and everything you know," he instructed, his voice hard. "Try to survive."

And with that, he shoved Aden into the pit.

Aden stumbled, his boots slipping on the icy ground, his arms windmilling for balance. And then the golems were upon him, their obsidian blades glinting in the torchlight, their movements swift and relentless.

Aden fought with everything he had, his sword a blur of steel, his weakened mana channels screaming in protest. The golems pressed him from all sides, their blades slicing through the air, their movements a dance of deadly grace.

Aden ducked and weaved, his body twisting and turning as he sought to avoid their attacks. He lashed out with his sword, the blade clanging against obsidian, sending sparks flying into the air.

But the golems were relentless, their attacks coming faster and faster, their blades drawing closer with each passing second. Aden's breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding in his chest, his muscles burning with the strain.

He stumbled, his foot catching on a chunk of ice, and one of the golems seized its chance. Its blade flashed in the torchlight, slicing across Aden's arm, drawing a line of bright red blood.

Aden gritted his teeth, the pain a searing fire in his arm, his blood dripping onto the icy ground. But he refused to give up, refused to surrender to the golems' onslaught.

He pushed himself harder, his movements growing faster, more desperate. He lashed out with his sword, the blade a blur of steel, and one of the golems shattered, its obsidian body crumbling to dust.

But there were still more, their attacks coming from all sides, their blades a whirlwind of death. Aden fought on, his body pushed to its limits, his mana channels stretched to the breaking point.

The golems pressed in on Aden, their obsidian blades flashing in the torchlight, their movements swift and relentless, his weakened mana channels screaming in protest.

But as he fought, he began to feel a surge of hotness filling inside his body, a glint of aura beginning to appear around him. Varek's eyes widened, his face a mask of disbelief.

'Impossible,' he thought, his mind reeling.

'No matter how hard he trains, it should take him years to master aura manifestation of the body.'

But Aden paid no heed to Varek's shock, his mind focused solely on the battle at hand. The golems lunged at him, their blades slicing through the air, and Aden moved to meet them, his sword flashing in the dim light.

And then, suddenly, Aden sat down on the ground, his legs folding beneath him, his sword falling from his hand. The golems lunged at him, their blades poised to strike, but Aden paid them no mind.

He closed his eyes, his face a mask of serenity, and let the energy flow through him. Varek watched in astonishment, his hand moving quickly to the control panel at his side. With a flick of his wrist, he deactivated the golems, their bodies freezing in place, their blades still poised to strike.

Aden sat motionless, his body thrumming with power, his mana channels swelling with energy. Varek could see the change happening before his eyes, the change that was taking place within Aden's body.

'You've got to be kidding me...,' Varek thought again, his mind reeling.

'To this day, I have never seen a metamorphosis happen to a knight who hasn't even reached the level of a Genesis knight, let alone a second-tier knight.'

Metamorphosis is a process that happens when your body and mind subconsciously is push past its limits it leads to enlightenment, and when that enlightenment reaches its ultimate peak, you open up more of the meridians in your body, which allows you to handle much more mana than before.

Metamorphosis usually happens to a knight when they reach enlightenment while at the level of a Genesis knight to ascend oneself into the realm of a Gladiator.

But there was no denying what was happening before his eyes. Aden's body was changing, his mana channels refining, his meridians opening up to the power that flowed through him.

On and on it went, the metamorphosis taking place in a matter of moments, Aden's body undergoing changes that should have taken years to achieve. Varek watched in silent awe, his eyes wide with disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest.

And then, at last, it was over. Aden opened his eyes, his gaze clear and focused, his body thrumming with newfound power. He rose to his feet, his movements fluid and graceful, his body feeling unusually light.

He knew it, even before Varek said a word. His body felt different, stronger, more powerful than ever before. His fist held more power than usual, his movements were sharper, more precise.

Varek stepped forward, his eyes glinting with something like pride. "Well, Aden," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "It seems you've managed to surprise me yet again."

Aden looked up at him, a smile playing across his face. 

And with that, he turned and strode out of the Bloodfrost Pits, his body thrumming with power. Varek watched him go, a smile playing across his face, a glimmer of hope burning in his eyes.

'Perhaps,' he thought, 'I may be witnessing the birth of a true Swordsmaster.'