Soul Sword : The empire's last game

The market buzzed with the aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling meats, the joyous laughter of vendors, and the fluttering of fabric as people navigated through the packed streets. Kael maneuvered through the commotion, maintaining a steady pace behind his younger sister, Mira. She was petite, just past her twelfth birthday, with dark curls bouncing as she excitedly pointed at trinkets showcased on wooden stalls.

"Kael, look! This one features carvings of the sun and moon together," she exclaimed, raising a simple wooden pendant.

Kael offered a faint smile, tousling her hair. "You've always enjoyed tales about the sky," he murmured, though his gaze shifted elsewhere. A feeling of apprehension tightened in his stomach, his instincts honed from years of navigating the streets of the Kingdom of Ashes. He wasn't of noble blood, unlike the others summoned to the game. He was merely a commoner, struggling to survive in a city where power was claimed by those who dared to seize it.

And someone was about to seize something that wasn't rightfully theirs.

It occurred suddenly—too suddenly. One instant, Mira was admiring a bracelet, and the next, a hand emerged from the shadows. A rough, scarred man seized her wrist, yanking her toward the entrance of an alleyway. She gasped, her eyes wide with fear.

Kael reacted instinctively.

His body propelled forward, the world around him stretching, each motion appearing slower to his eyes than it ought to have been. His heart raced, and the intervals between each beat grew impossibly prolonged. The moment his fingers clenched into a fist, time snapped back into reality—too fast, too forcefully.

In the next instant, the man was on the ground, gasping for breath, gripping his throat. Kael's fist had struck him with an incredible strength, far beyond anything he had ever experienced before. The alley walls quivered slightly, dust falling from the stone.

The air was saturated with an unusual static, as if something unseen were pressing against the very fabric of reality.

Mira stumbled back, holding her wrist where bruises had already started to appear. Her gaze flickered between Kael and the writhing man, her breath trembling. "Kael… what did you—"

The world transformed.

Darkness seeped into the corners of his vision. The alley warped, the sounds of the market faded away. He found himself not on cobblestones anymore—he was in an entirely different place.

Black stone extended in every direction, a coliseum filled with shadows and lost cries. The pillars encircling it loomed like silent observers, waiting, watching. Figures occupied the arena—warriors, heirs, all wielding weapons that throbbed with dreadful power.

And above them, an unoccupied throne.

Resting upon it, a blade lay. It was not merely a weapon—it had life. It pulsed with something ancient, something insatiable.

The Soul Sword.

A single voice—deep and echoing like a divine resonance—spoke:

"A throne awaits. A challenge begins. Will you claim your fate? "

Then, reality returned abruptly.

Kael faltered, gripping his head as his breaths came rapid and irregular. The alley remained unchanged, with Mira's voice a faint echo. The thief had already regained his footing and blended into the crowd, but Kael hardly noticed. His mark was searing.

He pushed up the sleeve of his worn coat. There, inscribed on his forearm, was a sigil—a blade surrounded by shifting, ethereal flames. It throbbed in sync with his heartbeat.

The weight of his vision crashed down on him.

This wasn't a fantasy. It wasn't an illusion. This was genuine. He had been summoned.

The game had commenced.

He breathed out unsteadily, his fingers curling into a fist. He had spent his life enduring, always just managing to survive. But this—this was different. This was destiny demanding something from him, something he wasn't certain he was willing to relinquish.

Would he battle?

Did he truly have any option?

Mira tugged at his sleeve, her voice quiet. "Kael… your eyes. They've changed. "

He blinked, his breath halting. He turned to the reflection of a shattered mirror lying abandoned by the alley wall.

And understood what she meant.

His eyes were no longer brown.

They glowed with golden light, dancing like two sun's.

What was happening?

The thief had vanished. The market sounds had returned, muffled and disjointed, as if he were hearing them through water. But Kael hardly acknowledged it. He felt. . . disassembled. The raw power that had surged within him left a void, an emptiness where his heartbeat should have been steady. He clenched his fists, urging them to stop trembling.

His mind spun, trying to decipher the significance of what he had witnessed. The words were ingrained in his soul now, irrefutable. A throne awaits. A challenge begins. Will you claim your fate?

Fate? What fate? He was an ordinary man. A nobody. A street urchin who barely managed to feed his sister. He held no claim to a throne, no right to be pulled into whatever cruel game the world had devised for him. And yet… the mark on his wrist still blazed, evidence that the vision had indeed been real.

A shiver crept down his spine. This power… is it truly mine? Or is it something else forcing its way into me?

His gaze dropped to Mira, who grasped his arm, her wide eyes filled with worry. Her lips moved, but the words didn't reach him initially. Only when she squeezed his wrist did reality snap back into focus.

"Kael? " Her voice was small, delicate. "What happened to you? "

He swallowed hard. How could he respond? I halted time. I witnessed a vision of an arena that shouldn't exist. A voice informed me I have a fate I never desired. He couldn't convey any of that. She already regarded him like he was slipping away.

So he mustered a shaky smile. "It's nothing. " The deception was bitter on his tongue.

Mira did not trust him. He could observe it in the way her eyebrows furrowed, in the manner she clung on.

For the initial time, Kael experienced genuine fear. Not from the force that had surged within him. Not even from the obstacle ahead of him.

He was terrified that the instant he engaged with fate, he had unknowingly started to forfeit the life he had struggled so valiantly to maintain.

Kael tightened his fists, compelling himself to calm his breathing. No one evades the Empire's Game.

And now, he found himself as a player.