"This is it," Vayunanda said, his voice steady, like the calm before a storm. He stood tall, his eyes reflecting the quiet resolve of someone who had seen more battles than most could even imagine.
Satya's heart raced. This was the moment they had been preparing for. The last trial before they returned to Bharat. The final test.
"So once we clear this, we return home?" Satya asked, his voice betraying the mix of relief and anticipation bubbling inside him.
Vayunanda didn't respond with words. Instead, he gave a single nod. It was all the confirmation Satya needed. His throat tightened, not just from the journey, but from the weight of what they were about to face.
Before them, the gate stood. Massive, monolithic. A rift in the fabric of the world itself. It didn't just beckon them—it commanded them.
Satya couldn't help but stare. The gate was unlike any other they had encountered. Its dual nature made it look as though it were two beings struggling for dominance—fire and ice, warmth and cold, two forces locked in an eternal battle.
It rose from the earth like a sleeping titan, a seam of glowing fire cutting through its middle, while the other half shimmered with a frost that chilled to the very soul.
A deep, unnatural silence filled the air. The ground trembled beneath them, almost as if the gate itself was awakening from a long slumber.
Satya's lips parted, but the words wouldn't come. His gaze flickered to Vayunanda, seeking reassurance.
"What… is this?"
The gate's form pulsed with an ominous energy.
[System Alert: UNKNOWN-CLASS HELL GATE DETECTED]Classification: Dual Heal GateType: Law of DualityRule: Only one soul per path. Communication disabled after entry. Both paths must be cleared to close the gate.
Satya turned to Vayunanda, a sense of dread settling over him. "We can't enter together?"
Vayunanda didn't hesitate. His expression was unreadable, but there was a sharpness in his eyes—a depth that made Satya feel like a mere child in the face of the task ahead.
"I'll take the right," Vayunanda said, his voice unwavering.
Satya's mind raced, his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. "Wait, what do you mean 'the right'—?"
But before he could finish, Vayunanda turned, already moving toward the cold, frosty side of the gate. The chill radiated from the fissure in the ground, and the wind howled, as if calling to him.
Without a single glance back, Vayunanda entered the ice, the gate sealing with a sharp, echoing crack.
Satya was left standing alone, the weight of his words and actions heavy in the air. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected it to happen like this.
But this was no time for hesitation.
He stepped forward.
The warmth of the fire pulled at him, swirling with tendrils of heat that beckoned him closer. The air shimmered with waves of rising heat, distorting the world ahead of him. He could feel the oppressive pull, urging him into the depths of the flame.
"Oorja?" he whispered, the name escaping his lips like a plea.
A soft hum filled his mind.
[System Online.]
Her voice enveloped him, comforting yet distant. "This is your path now, Satya. You must walk it alone."
He swallowed hard, forcing back the rising storm of doubt and fear. "I'll make it through," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
He took his first step into the fire.
The chamber that awaited him was like nothing he had ever seen. It wasn't filled with enemies or obstacles, but with something much more insidious: memories.
A massive mirror floated before him, suspended in the air, glowing with a soft, ethereal light. It was an odd, haunting presence—its surface more than just glass. It was alive. Sentient.
Within its reflection, Satya saw himself—not the powerful warrior he had become, but a small boy, clumsy and round-faced, struggling in the courtyard of his village.
The Satya in the reflection was failing. Over and over. He was younger, awkward, and trying to lift a simple wooden staff, tripping over his own feet, his face a mixture of frustration and determination.
The memory flickered, playing out before him like a film on repeat. The young Satya would fall, then rise again, dust himself off, and try once more.
A voice rang out in his mind.
[To Proceed: Sacrifice a Memory or Solve the Glyph of Flames.]
Satya's chest tightened. That memory—that moment—was more than just a scene from his past. It was the very essence of who he had become. The pain, the failure, the refusal to give up. It was where his journey began.
He couldn't just give it up. He couldn't.
The air felt thick, the flames flickering more wildly. The mirror pulsed, as if it was waiting for him to make a choice.
His hands clenched into fists.
"No," he whispered. "I'm not giving up on that."
He didn't want to lose it, but the mirror seemed to dare him. His heart pounded as he looked at the shifting symbols around the frame, etched in ancient runes. Fire swirled around them, and each failed attempt brought a new flare of flames.
Time blurred. Sweat poured down his face, and his muscles screamed for rest, but he didn't stop. He refused to stop. This wasn't just a puzzle. It was a test—one that would demand everything of him.
He closed his eyes.
Vayunanda's voice echoed in his mind, calm and patient, as it always had during their training:
"Every blade has rhythm. Every fire has breath. Stop chasing. Listen."
Satya took a deep breath, his mind clearing. He centered himself.
Then he listened.
He spun Krantivaal, letting the weapon guide him through the glyphs. The blade didn't force its way through the fire—it danced with it. The flames parted, the runes aligning with his movements. Each swing, each strike, was a melody, not of raw power, but of finesse.
The mirror cracked, not into shards, but into flickers of light—fireflies of memory, floating and disappearing into the air.
[Puzzle Solved. Memory Preserved. Mental Clarity +5.]
Next He stepped into the burning domain. Heat assaulted him immediately, a wave of blistering air warping the world. The terrain was scorched black, rivers of magma flowing lazily through cracked stone. Ahead, the shadows stirred.
From the horizon, they emerged—armored monster soldiers, more than a thousand of them, each radiating power beyond a 3-star rank. Clawed feet scraped molten rock. Eyes glowed with malice. Swords and axes raised.
Satya hesitated—but then his hand gripped Krantivaal.
"Breathe," he muttered, remembering Vayunanda's teachings.
The first wave charged. He didn't move.
When the first sword swung, he sidestepped with surgical precision, twisting under the blow and carving upward. The Krantivaal sliced through metal and bone like air.
[Enemy Eliminated – 3-Star Rank]
A dozen more rushed him. He turned, pivoted, ducked. Every step was practiced. Every movement—grace honed in flame.
He leapt off a collapsing boulder, spun midair, and unleashed a circular slash that sent shockwaves through the battlefield. Bodies dropped in droves.
More came. Hundreds.
He activated one of Krantivaal's glyphs—Agneyastra Form. Flame burst from the blade, and he became a moving inferno.
He fought for hours. Cuts appeared on his arms, sweat dripped from his brow, but his resolve only deepened. He remembered the mock battles with his master, the pain of falling, the discipline forged in repetition.
Monsters fell, one after another. Some breathed flame, others summoned shadow—but Satya adapted. He used their momentum, redirected their strikes, split skulls with upward strikes, cleaved limbs in smooth arcs.
[Total Eliminated: 1002]
The field fell silent.
Satya stood amidst the corpses, his clothes torn, armor scorched, but his blade steady. He breathed slowly, heart pounding. He had done it.
The path ahead of him now lay open, and with it came a new sense of clarity. He had made it past the first trial. But the real test was still to come.
Satya stood in the heart of the chamber, the fire swirling around him. The temperature was unbearable, the air thick with heat and the crackle of energy. But it wasn't the fire that made his heart pound—it was the looming presence before him.
The Gatekeepers.
Two massive, hulking figures stood before him, their molten forms glowing like the core of a dying sun. They were forged from molten stone, their eyes burning with a malevolent light. Each one was an embodiment of destruction—fire and fury incarnate.
The twin Gatekeepers cracked their knuckles in unison, their laughter booming through the chamber. It echoed, dark and mocking, like thunder before a storm.
"So, you're the little soul who thinks he can pass this gate?" One of the Gatekeepers sneered, its voice a deep rumble that seemed to shake the very ground beneath Satya's feet.
The other Gatekeeper chuckled darkly. "Foolish child. You think you're worthy of crossing? We are beyond your reach."
Satya's breath hitched. This wasn't just a trial anymore. It wasn't just a fight. These were not ordinary guardians. They were gatekeepers—the highest rank of guardians, five-star ranked, each one capable of reducing entire kingdoms to ashes. And he had to fight them both at once.
His hands shook as he gripped Krantivaal, his weapon feeling heavier than ever. His heart raced. His thoughts spun.
"How... how am I supposed to fight both of them?" Satya muttered to himself, fear creeping into his voice.
The first Gatekeeper took a slow, deliberate step forward. "You can't. Not alone. Not like this." Its molten fists clenched, causing the ground to tremble beneath their feet.
The second one stepped forward as well, its molten eyes fixed on Satya. "It's laughable. You think you're a warrior? You think you're ready for us?"
Satya's legs wobbled, a crushing realization sinking in. How could he possibly defeat two five-star ranked Gatekeepers? He was barely a rank 5 himself. Every ounce of his training, every weapon and power he had—none of it would be enough.
As the Gatekeepers closed in, Satya felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He couldn't breathe. His mind screamed at him to run, but his feet were frozen.
He fell to his knees, tears welling in his eyes. The immense pressure of the situation overwhelmed him. His body trembled, and he couldn't stop the sobs that wracked his chest. The fiery heat of the chamber burned his skin, but it was nothing compared to the burning shame in his heart.
"I can't do this," Satya whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm not strong enough... I'll never be strong enough."
He collapsed forward, his face buried in the dust of the arena. His body shook with despair, his fists clenched, but his energy was spent. His confidence, shattered.
This is the end, he thought. I'll never make it.
Suddenly, the deep voice of Vayunanda echoed in his mind, strong and steady as ever. "Satya... never lose early."
The words cut through his despair like a blade through fog. Never lose early.
Satya's breathing slowed as he lifted his head from the ground, eyes now burning with something new. A fire. A determination he hadn't felt before. Vayunanda... His master's words filled him with a quiet strength.
He wiped the tears from his face with a shaking hand, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I won't... I won't lose."
Satya stood up, the ground beneath him shifting as he took a step forward, his feet firm now.
The two Gatekeepers looked down at him with mocking smiles.
"Still trying, huh?" the first one said.
"Pathetic," the second one growled.
Satya closed his eyes for a moment, his breath deep and steady. This wasn't just about power. It was about strategy. About will.
He opened his eyes. The fire of resolve burned brightly now, and his hands clenched Krantivaal tightly. He wasn't just going to fight them. He had to outsmart them.
The Gatekeepers lunged simultaneously, their molten fists moving like meteors. Satya barely dodged the first strike, feeling the heat singe the air as the fist smashed into the ground where he'd just been standing. The shockwave threw him off balance, but he quickly regained his footing.
A quick glance told him all he needed to know—the Gatekeepers were a synchronized duo. Their strikes weren't random—they were coordinated. One would strike while the other prepared to attack, making it impossible to fight them one at a time.
If he wanted to survive, he had to kill them both at once.
But that thought filled him with doubt. How could he do that? How could he fight two of them? His body was already worn from the journey. His powers weren't enough to face both of them at full force.
Still, Vayunanda's words echoed in his mind. "Never lose early."
He clenched his fists, gathering every ounce of his willpower. His heart pounded, but there was no time to waste.
Satya darted forward, launching himself between the two Gatekeepers. He couldn't fight them head-on. Not yet.
He needed to divide them.
With a swift flick of Krantivaal, he sent a burst of flame toward the first Gatekeeper, forcing it to step back. At the same time, he pivoted, using his agility to avoid the second Gatekeeper's strike, landing behind it in one fluid motion.
It worked. The Gatekeepers stumbled for a moment, their synchronized attack disrupted. But it wasn't enough.
The second Gatekeeper recovered quickly, spinning around and bringing down a devastating blow that caught Satya off guard. The molten fist crashed into his side, sending him flying across the arena. Pain exploded in his chest as he hit the ground hard.
"Ugh!" Satya gasped, struggling to rise. His body was battered, and his vision blurred. But he didn't stop.
He had to keep moving.
"You still think you can win, little boy?" the first Gatekeeper taunted, stepping forward.
Satya could feel the energy draining from him. His muscles burned with exhaustion, his vision flickering. But he didn't give up.
He had no choice but to fight.
"Not yet," he whispered to himself, determination building again. He would survive. He would win.
The fight was far from over.
But Satya was ready.