Night settled over the Veiled Sanctum like a soft curtain, quieting the corridors and dimming the lanterns that lined the stone walls. The six newly sworn warriors—Arin, Kaien, Lynx, Eira, Razan, and Draiven—followed the attendant down a long hallway. Their steps were heavy, not from exhaustion, but from the weight of the vow they had just taken.
Finally, the attendant stopped before a large wooden door.
"This is your room," she said gently. "All six of you will stay here."
She opened the door and stepped aside.
Inside were six beds arranged neatly in a circular space. The room was warm, lit by soft amber crystals embedded in the walls. A few shelves, a wash basin, wooden lockers, and a circular window showing the midnight sky completed the space. For the first time in days, the six felt something familiar—something safe.
They filed in slowly, choosing beds, sitting down with a heaviness that wasn't physical but emotional. For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Lynx exhaled loudly and flopped back onto his bed.
"So… we're really doing this."
Kaien leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling. "Feels weird, doesn't it? One moment we're Veilbreakers… the next moment we're in a hidden order older than kingdoms."
Razan chuckled weakly. "Remember how cheerful we used to be back at headquarters? The laughter? The stupid bets? Lynx stealing food every night?"
"I didn't steal," Lynx protested. "I borrowed."
"You never returned anything," Draiven muttered.
Eira smiled faintly, her eyes softening. "Those days were good… we didn't realize how good."
Silence returned, but this time there was warmth in it—nostalgia, memory, longing.
Arin sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. His voice was soft when he finally spoke.
"I… I wasn't very open with everyone back there," he admitted. "I didn't talk much. Didn't joke much. I wasn't close to many of our comrades."
The others watched him, listening quietly.
"But I respected every single one of them. Their strength. Their kindness. Their loyalty." His eyes darkened with grief. "Even if I didn't show it… I cared. I wanted the best for them."
Eira's voice was soft. "They knew, Arin. They always knew."
Arin exhaled shakily. "I hope so."
A heavy silence settled again—one filled with memories of faces they would never see again.
Kaien broke it gently. "Do you think… the training tomorrow will be as crazy as Marienne hinted?"
Razan snorted. "Bro, she said 'grown warriors cry.' That's not a good sign."
Lynx pulled a blanket over his head dramatically. "I'm too handsome to die from training."
Eira rolled her eyes. "Relax. Whatever it is, we'll manage."
Draiven nodded. "We survived the Warriors' Fall. We survived the Wraith's trials. We can survive this."
Arin looked at each of them, one by one.
"Whatever comes tomorrow," he said slowly, "we face it together."
Kaien lifted his fist. "Together."
Razan bumped his own against it. "Till the end."
Eira smiled softly and joined her fist. "For the Veilbreakers."
Lynx grinned. "For everything we lost."
Draiven added his own hand. "And everything we'll reclaim."
Arin placed his hand in the center.
"For the future we will create."
They pulled back, the circle broken but the bond stronger than ever.
Minutes later, the room dimmed, and one by one, the six drifted into sleep—carried by exhaustion, hope, and the promise of a new beginning.
THE NEXT MORNING
A roaring voice smashed through the peaceful silence—
"GET UP! ALL OF YOU. NOW!"
The door slammed open.
A woman charged into the room like a storm given human form.
She looked around thirty to thirty-five—broad-shouldered, hardened muscles visible even beneath her attire: a leather battle tunic reinforced with steel plates at the shoulders and forearms, metal bracers on her legs, and a long dark cloak fluttering behind her like a shadow. Her presence alone commanded respect—cold, sharp, unyielding.
Her hair was tied back tightly, scars lining her arms, and her eyes held a fierce fire.
She was the kind of warrior people moved aside for without being told.
"I am Captain Rhosyn Vale," she barked. "Instructor of your physical training. And from this moment on, I OWN your zmornings."
Razan whispered, "Bro she looks like she could punch a mountain.
Rhosyn heard him.
"OUT OF BED!"
The six jerked upright like they'd been struck by lightning.
Kaien attempted, "Uh, do we have time to change or—"
"No," she snapped. "No washing. No eating. No preparing. You move as you are."
Lynx muttered, "She's a demon."
Rhosyn's head snapped toward him. "I HEARD THAT."
Lynx shut up immediately.
She pointed at the door. "MOVE!"
They scrambled out of the room, barely keeping pace as she marched ahead, her steps thunderous.
"This is the first day of your training," she declared. "Your bodies are soft. Weak. Pathetic. Before you learn anything else, I will BREAK you down—"
She turned sharply.
"—and build you up stronger than steel."
The six exchanged terrified glances.
TRAINING BEGINS
The courtyard was already filled with warriors doing brutal drills—push-ups with boulders on their backs, sprinting through obstacle tracks, lifting logs twice their size.
Rhosyn pointed to an enormous field.
"RUN."
"For how long?" Razan asked innocently.
"Yes," she said.
And so, they ran.
And ran.
And ran.
Until their lungs burned, their legs shook, and sweat poured like rain. When they slowed down, Rhosyn roared—
"FASTER!"
After what felt like hours, she ordered—
"PUSH-UPS. NOW."
Then—
"SIT-UPS."
"BURDEN SQUATS."
"GRAVEL CRAWLS."
"HANG-CLIMBING."
"STONE LIFTS."
Their visions blurred. Their arms trembled. Their limbs felt like dead logs.
But they continued.
Because they had sworn a vow.
In the middle of their exhaustion, the six noticed two massive figures walking through a corridor nearby.
Boran the Boulder Breaker.
Valko Ironfang.
Both fully armored, both looking far too energetic for men their size.
All six froze mid-exercise.
Kaien blurted, "HEY—YOU TWO! YOU'RE FROM HERE?!"
Lynx, despite panting heavily, pointed at them accusingly. "You scammed us! You two pretended to hate each other and made money off bets!"
Razan added, "Enemies outside, best friends inside?! That's cheating!"
Boran laughed, voice booming. "Ah, the six newcomers!"
Valco grinned. "Welcome to the Sanctum, little warriors!"
Arin frowned. "So… your fight was staged?"
Valco shook his head. "Not staged. In the arena, we fight with real fury. Glory matters."
Boran added, "But outside? We're brothers. Fought together for decades."
Kaien blinked. "So you're really from the Sanctum?"
They nodded proudly.
"This Order saved us," Boran said. "Made us strong. Gave us purpose."
"Now we repay the debt," Valco added.
The six looked at them with newfound respect.
Before they could continue, Arin noticed something behind them—on the other side of the courtyard.
Warriors were training with… powers.
Ice walls rising from the ground.
Blades coated in shimmering light.
Arrows made of pure energy.
Cloaks of flame dancing around fists.
Arin whispered, "Who… who are they?"
Boran followed his gaze.
"Those," he said reverently, "are Spirit Artists."
Arin repeated, "Spirit… Arts?"
Valco folded his arms. "Spirit Arts are the purest control of the energy that flows through all things. Every warrior is born with a natural talent… but Spirit Arts refine it, sharpen it, elevate it."
Kaien stepped forward. "But we are born with innate abilities, right? I can use wind. Draiven can shape earth. Lynx can multiply arrows mid-air. Eira's sword gleams with magic."
Valco shook his head with a grin. "Innate talent is just the beginning."
Boran added, "Spirit Arts let you surpass what you're born with. Master your energy. Transform it. Even change your natural power entirely."
The six stared, stunned.
Lynx breathed, "We can change our powers…?"
"Yes," Boran said. "If you work hard enough."
Rhosyn's voice thundered across the courtyard—
"NEWBLOODS! STOP TALKING!"
The six jumped.
Valco chuckled. "Run along. The Devil Trainer calls."
Razan paled. "Devil… what?"
Moran smirked. "That's what we call her. Captain Rhosyn Vale—the Devil Trainer."
The six froze.
Lynx whispered, "We're dead."
They sprinted back to training.
THE END OF A TORTURE DAY
By sunset, they collapsed into their beds—soaking with sweat, bodies trembling, clothes torn, lungs burning.
Razan groaned. "This was… this was hell."
Eira fell onto her pillow. "I can't move."
Draiven mumbled, "She's not human."
Kaien nodded miserably. "She's a demon in armor."
Lynx whispered, "I saw my ancestors today."
Arin didn't speak. He lay silently, thinking.
Just then—the door opened.
It was the young woman who had guided them on their first day.
She looked at Arin.
"You have a visitor."
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Arin's fatigue evaporated. He stood, fists clenched, heart beating fast.
The others watched quietly as he followed her out.
She led him through a silent hallway, then stopped at a door.
"He's waiting inside."
Arin pushed the door open.
The Wraith stood before a large window, hands behind his back, watching the arena below where warriors fight even at night.
Without turning, he spoke.
"A lively place, isn't it?"
Arin swallowed. "Wraith..."
Back in the room, the five sat together, whispering.
"Who could be visiting Arin?" Kaien wondered.
Lynx frowned. "We didn't tell anyone where we are."
Eira hugged her knees. "It's been a while… he should have returned by now."
Razan nodded. "Yeah. Something's up."
Suddenly—
The door opened.
Arin entered.
He looked different.
His eyes burned with a mix of determination, fury, and cold resolve. His fists were clenched, body stiff, expression unreadable.
The five immediately stood.
"Arin?" Eira asked softly. "What happened?"
He didn't answer at first. He walked to his bed, sat down, staring straight at the door he'd walked through.
Then he spoke quietly—but with a steel edge.
"We need to get stronger."
Lynx blinked. "We know, bro—"
"No." Arin's tone sharpened. "Stronger than we've ever imagined. Strong enough to crush the ones who wronged us. Strong enough to avenge our comrades. Strong enough to tear down every monster in our path."
A chill ran through the room.
Kaien placed a hand on Arin's shoulder. "We're with you. Always."
Eira nodded. "We didn't need a speech to know that."
Razan smirked. "We're already fired up."
Draiven added, "We'll get revenge. For everyone we lost."
Kaien raised his hand in a solemn vow.
"For our comrades."
The others lifted theirs.
"For our comrades."
Arin whispered—
"For those who died believing in us."
Their vow echoed through the room like a promise carved into steel.
Marienne stood in her private chamber, studying old scrolls when she sensed a presence.
"The door's open," she said without looking.
The Wraith stepped inside silently, closing the door behind him.
She smiled lightly. "Even after all these years… your presence still surprises me."
The Wraith shrugged lazily. "I try."
She shook her head fondly. "The six of them… they're spirited."
"Spirited," the Wraith agreed. "Reckless. Bold. But full of fire."
Marienne smirked. "Especially Arin."
The Wraith said nothing.
She studied him closely.
"He is… special, you know. He carries something rare. Something dangerous. His powers resemble yours."
Silence.
The Wraith looked at the old mural on her wall—the one depicting the ancient war. His own youthful image stood in the center of it.
Marienne exhaled. "He needs your guidance. Your support."
Still, the Wraith remained quiet.
Finally, Marienne spoke softly.
"Tell me… by any chance… is the boy like you?"
A long silence stretched.
Finally, the Wraith replied in a quiet voice—
"In my life of uncountable centuries… I've seen countless warriors rise and fall. Trained legends. Buried heroes. But you—Marienne—remain one of the finest I've ever known."
Marienne flushed slightly, touched deeply.
But then—
The Wraith added casually,
"…top ten, at least."
She blinked.
He continued,
"Or top twenty. Let's settle on top fifty."
She glared. "You haven't changed a bit."
He smirked. "And you still rise to it."
Marienne sighed with amusement, then her expression darkened.
"So… it was the work of him, wasn't it?"
She spoke a single name—
"Astra Vox."