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Chapter 43 - Awakening in Chains

Russ didn't remember hitting the ground.

One moment, the Executioner was dust in the wind. The next, cold darkness swallowed everything.

When his eyes finally flickered open, the first thing he felt was the ache—deep, bone-deep, every nerve screaming. The second thing he noticed was the clink of iron. His wrists and ankles were bound by thick black chains etched with runes that pulsed faintly like dying embers.

Qi-sealing chains.

Russ tried to summon shadow—nothing. Tried blood ignition—still nothing. It was like the air had been sucked out of his soul.

The room smelled of damp stone and old blood. Dim torches lined the walls, their flames flickering with an unnatural blue hue.

---

The Watcher

From the shadows ahead, a voice purred.

"Impressive. You managed to kill my Executioner. Few ever do."

A figure emerged—tall, robed in black and crimson, face hidden behind a mask shaped like a snarling bat. The mask's eyes glowed faint violet.

Russ narrowed his gaze. "Who the hell are you supposed to be? His boss?"

The masked figure chuckled. "Not quite. Let's say… I own the contract on your life."

He stepped closer, the air thickening with oppressive qi—so strong Russ could barely breathe. This wasn't like the Executioner's power. This was older, darker.

---

Blood Price

The man's gloved hand hovered over Russ's chest, and a searing heat pulsed from the chains into his veins.

Russ gasped—his own blood was being siphoned out in glowing red streams, swirling into the figure's palm.

"That blood of yours," the man said softly, "is worth kingdoms. It carries the Talen shadowline, the voidborn curse, and… something else."

Russ clenched his teeth. "You're… not… taking it."

The man's voice deepened, turning almost reverent. "Oh, I'll take every drop if I must. But first… I want to know how much pain you can endure before you break."

The chains tightened, their runes glowing brighter, and Russ's vision dimmed under the agony.

---

The Spark

Then—something flickered in the back of his mind. A small ember, buried under layers of exhaustion and pain.

The Void Pulse.

It answered not his qi, nor his blood, but his will.

Russ's lips curled into a faint, defiant grin. "You… picked the wrong prisoner."

The man tilted his head. "Oh?"

---

The Breakout

The torches' blue flames shivered as shadows pooled under Russ's feet. The chains vibrated violently, the runes sputtering.

A dark wave exploded from him—not qi, not magic, but the void itself tearing reality's seams.

The shackles cracked.

The masked man staggered back, his violet eyes narrowing behind the mask. "Impossible—those chains are forged from—"

Snap.

Russ was free.

He surged forward, shadows whipping around him like living serpents. His scythe—summoned from the void—formed in his grip, still glowing faintly from the last kill.

The masked man raised a wall of blood-qi, but Russ's scythe cut through it like water.

---

The man laughed even as Russ's blade grazed his mask, leaving a thin line. "Good. You might actually entertain me before I kill you."

Russ's glare hardened. "No… I'm killing you first."

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