The Death Trials were no ordinary spectacle. They were ritual, sport, and execution rolled into one—a tradition dating back centuries to the earliest days of the Freehold. Five warriors entered. One left. If any refused to fight, they were burned alive in the cage of flame.
Neron stood shirtless at the gate to the blood-soaked pit. Around him, the crowd of slavers and minor nobles chanted, "Zoryan! Zoryan!" The night air smelled of roasting meat, burning pitch, and fear.
He rolled his shoulders. His weapon for the trial was a Valyrian steel kopis—not his own, but looted from an ancient battlefield and awarded to him by Commander Orys as a final insult.
"Let's see if the fireborn fool earns his own death," the man had sneered.
Fine. Let them laugh.
Tonight, the system would bleed the pit dry.
📛 Combat Initiated — The Death Trials
His four opponents emerged:
The Boar, a towering brute with a warhammer.
Kessa, a dual-dagger assassin from Leng.
Togar, a former soldier of Old Volantis, with a shield and spatha.
And finally, Ser Penthar, a disgraced knight of Valyria with a gold-crusted longsword.
The gong sounded.
And chaos began.
Neron moved first—straight for Togar, feinting high, then rolling low to hamstring him. Blood sprayed. The Volantene went down with a scream.
Kessa came in fast from the flank. Neron pivoted, catching one of her blades in his armband, then twisted, slicing open her abdomen with his kopis. She fell back, shrieking, clutching her guts.
The Boar charged. Neron didn't retreat.
He ran forward to meet the hammer's arc—ducked—stabbed upward into the brute's throat. The massive body collapsed like a felled tree.
Only Ser Penthar remained.
They circled each other. Penthar sneered. "You fight like a Braavosi mongrel."
"And you talk like a corpse," Neron replied.
Their blades met in a burst of sparks. Penthar was fast—noble trained, precise. But Neron had something no one in the Freehold had ever seen:
System-assisted reflex tracking.
He predicted Penthar's next strike mid-swing, stepped into his guard, and headbutted him.
Then he drove the kopis between his ribs.
The knight gasped and sank to his knees, the crowd dead silent.
[Combat Mastery +3][New Skill Unlocked: Intimidation (Tier 1)][Special Reward: Commander's Mark of Favor – Dragon Egg Claimed][Unit Recruitment Unlocked – Gladiator Rank: Elite]
The silence broke into thunder. The crowd roared. Commander Orys stared in stunned silence as Neron raised his bloodied blade and called out to the men below the pit:
"I don't fight for Zoryan. I fight for the future! If any of you are tired of bleeding for masters who call you dogs, stand with me."
At first, only one stood—the tattooed Summer Islander, M'Koro, eyes gleaming.
Then a dozen more.
Then thirty.
That night, Neron stood at the edge of the pit. The dragon egg was placed before him, still pulsing.
He touched it—and felt something awaken within his blood.
[Dragon Bond Initiated]Species: Verdant Flame Drake (Unhatched)Name: [Pending]Bond Status: Inert – Hatchery RequiredNew Emberlord Perk: Dragon Whisper (Passive Aura – Dragon morale +20%)
"Soon," he whispered to the egg, "we rise together."
He turned to his new men.
"First we claim this camp. Then… we take Tyria."
[End of Chapter 3]