Rise of The Holy-Realm Rebel

I awoke to crippling pain in a simple cage, my sight felt dulled, probably due to the explosion's light, and the harsh hard ground beneath me was not the least bit comfortable. There were others within that confinement, but like me, they looked too weak to perform much movement.

I spent an unknown number of hours simply laying on that cold, seemingly wet surface to calm myself with a simple breathing technique that both lowered pain, and helped me fall into a partial meditative state.

It worked wonders, but it still took a long while before I could finally move. And by this point, others had also awoken.

'How am I still in one piece?' My self-inspection showed that despite having suffered the close range of an explosive device, I had not so much as a skin cut.

There was only one explanation for that reality. That is; those devices were never meant to kill anyone.

'They probably captured the base,' I shook my head, sitting up. Thankfully my eyesight had gotten normal. Two of the three others within the cage now sat up, their heads between their knees. They were dead on the inside.

"He's dead," I addressed them, nudging my head at the last guy who lay on the ground, unmoving.

"He stopped breathing a few hours ago," I revealed. But they only gave my words ear for a bit before returning to their thoughts of doom.

What had I expected?

My attention soon went to the rest of the room. It was wide and contained many other cages, and was also mostly dark—being barely illuminated by the strategically placed flaming torches, and a tiny window.

The very darkness felt thick to the touch... Oppressive.

Not too long after, the sound of metal bars sliding open echoed within that chamber of doom, and a group of men streamed in with bright torches; carrying an air of dominance.

Our captors.

And one more thing, all five of them exuded an aura, meaning they all were on the path to ascendance. The same destination I had gone into seclusion to attain.

Those who walked on the path to ascension were called 'Rebels'. Simply because they went against the natural order of things to strive to attain a level of might completely unnatural to the Human race.

The very world resisted such Individuals by planting various hindrances on their path to ascension, but those who continued to climb amassed more power to their existence.

I identified these 5 men as some such 'Rebels', but their power felt low. Lower than what I used to know. I however reserved my judgment for when I had seen more.

They went about strangely inspecting the caged men. No one made a sound, as everyone watched in wonder at what their fate was. They were men trained to battle, they understood what it meant to be captured as war slaves.

One of those five approached my area with coldness all around him. The sound of his boots clacking on that cobblestone surface grew in intensity as he crossed the distance. Oppressive.

"He's dead." My voice was the first to unfold in that entire chamber, and as such I felt the gazes of several tens of men land on my figure, or at least my general area.

Understanding that I addressed him, the man made a sharp stop before our cage. He stretched his flaming torch forward to see my face and I watched his eyebrow quiver a bit.

Not intending to be considered worthy of any attention, I pointed at the dead prisoner in our cell.

The man's inspective gaze remained on my body before he eventually followed the direction of my fingers to lay eyes on the unmoving man.

He limited himself to silence and simply walked away to continue his inspection.

I could only shake my head and sigh. 'I'd prefer I didn't have to suffer the pungent smell of a rotting corpse.'

After that, the entire inspection went by in a whiff. Soon the dark room returned to being dark. But thanks to their flaming torches I had managed to understand how wide that chamber was.

Several hours passed and at some point I closed my eyes, tired of that dark view. Heavy thoughts mostly containing bouts of confusion and growing frustration streamed into my mind.

I still didn't understand why I was there. Had I been capable of even one-third of my former might; escaping such a place to seek answers would have been too easy.

But despite my efforts, not an ounce of energy came to me. It took all I could to keep a level head. My situation was worse than bad.

'What could have possibly gone wrong?' I questioned myself searching my memories for an answer. Nothing came forth.

My breakthrough into the Heavenly-Realms had been something of great importance. I had spared no expense and had not skipped any steps to ensure all would be well.

"Now I'm stuck in an era I don't recognize… powerless," I muttered, experiencing deep pain. Sure I had expected to awaken a long time after I began my breakthrough process, but this hadn't been part of the deal.

Hours passed and I grew hungry, a phenomenon that had been rare in my days of glory. Had I really lost all my power?

'I'll have to get to a place with a higher concentration of Solarin to conclude.'

Strangely enough, I still felt the presence of the world's energy around me, but it remained thin— barely there even. I could not fathom what they could have done to attain such a poor state.

Sure, naturally there were places with lower concentrations, but this was a record low. An abnormality.

My ability to perceive remained, but that energy did not respond to me.

After hours of pondering, I began to consider my state to be a tribulation. A hindrance set by the world for me. Even if I had never heard of such a trial.

Unfortunately, all things still boiled down to finding an area with a more robust concentration of Solarin.

For this to happen I would have to escape imprisonment. I didn't even bother for now. It didn't seem like we were going anywhere for a long time. So I waited.

What felt like days eventually went by, and with this our bodies suffered. But much worse, the corpse started to stink.

We all retreated from the rotting body in an attempt to alleviate the horrible stench. But to no avail.

At some point, I ripped portions of my robe to shield my nostrils and mouth. This solution worked, but only for a short period.

This was torture.

Hunger couldn't exist before that stench, and I felt glad I couldn't puke due to the absolute emptiness of my stomach.

The stench eventually extended to nearby cells and everyone retreated.

At some point, I swore I would run mad. Fortunately, I wasn't the first to reach that state.

One of the three others within my cell banged the metallic bars with his hands. The horrid aroma that oozed out of the corpse had filled the entire chamber at this point. Due to the lack of big windows, the stench could only begin to extend further and further. Barely any new air washing it away.

"Someone do something about this!" He roared, razed. We had spent no less than three days in that condition.

He continued to bang the metal bars, and suddenly someone else joined from another cell. Then another, then another, then another.

Before I knew it the entire chamber thrummed violently with that noise. I refrained from joining simply because my efforts would barely be a notable addition to theirs.

Mere minutes after the banging reached its climax and stayed there in complete chaos, the metallic doors that led to that dungeon raked the ground and a series of individuals streamed in, furious. But at this point, even I would prefer death to that situation.