The seventh rune still flickered faintly when the eighth trial began.

  Surya barely had time to stagger to his feet before his next foe emerged — a hulking figure wreathed in dark smoke, wielding a spiked war hammer. The air itself seemed to grow heavier as the shadow stepped forward, dragging its weapon across the floor with a bone-chilling screech.

  Surya gritted his teeth, forcing his battered body to move. Blood crusted his face, his muscles screamed with every motion, yet he stepped forward, blade trembling in his hand.

  "You will not fall here..."

  The war hammer slammed down, shattering stone where Surya had stood moments before. His battered instincts kicked in, and he twisted to the side, slashing low. His blade scraped against iron-like armor, barely leaving a scratch.

  The shadow figure turned, swinging the hammer in a deadly arc. Surya barely ducked, but the wind pressure alone sent him staggering.

  "Too strong..."

  The hammer came down again, this time striking his shoulder. White-hot pain shot through him, and Surya collapsed to one knee. The shadow loomed over him, hammer raised high.

  "Move!"

  Asura's Strength flared within him — muscles surging with power beyond his limits. With a roar, Surya drove his blade upward, striking the hammer’s shaft before it could descend. The weapon twisted mid-air, forcing the shadow to stumble.

  Surya surged forward. His body moved without thought — his blade plunging into the figure's side. The shadow staggered back, black smoke hissing from the wound.

  But it wasn’t finished.

  The war hammer swung wide. Surya barely dodged, but the shockwave slammed him into the wall. His body screamed in agony, yet his hand still gripped his sword.

  "Get up... get up..."

  The shadow charged.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  In that instant, Astral Perception sharpened his vision — the flow of energy within the figure became clear. A flickering core — vulnerable yet deeply embedded.

  Surya hurled his blade with everything he had. The sword spun through the air — striking true. The shadow collapsed into smoke, and the eighth rune blazed to life.

  The observation hall fell silent.

  "The eighth..." Rudra muttered, his voice heavy with disbelief. "Only the Senapati and the king have ever passed that mark."

  One of the advisors shook his head. "He’s nearing his limit. This can’t continue..."

  The king entered then, having just arrived. Silent and imposing, his gaze lingered on the glowing runes — unwavering and intense.

  "Let him finish," he said quietly. His voice carried through the room like thunder. None dared speak after that.

  Surya knelt in the trial arena, limbs trembling uncontrollably. His vision blurred, every breath like fire in his lungs.

  "I can't..."

  But the ninth figure emerged.

  A monstrous warrior clad in jagged armor, wielding a crimson halberd. Dark flames licked across its blade, each step it took scorching the stone floor.

  Surya staggered to his feet. His blade — his only weapon — was still embedded in the previous foe’s remains.

  "No sword..."

  The figure lunged. Surya twisted aside, narrowly dodging the searing blade. His battered reflexes barely kept him from being skewered.

  "Too fast... too strong..."

  The halberd lashed out again — this time grazing his ribs. Blood sprayed across the floor. Surya staggered back, barely able to lift his arm.

  "I can’t win like this..."

  His vision blurred further. The flames danced, the figure’s movements a blur of deadly precision.

  "There’s no pattern... no opening..."

  Then he felt it — a flicker of something deeper. Battle Instinct surged within him. The flames seemed slower. The figure’s stance — the angle of its shoulders — he saw it all.

  "Now!"

  Surya darted low as the halberd descended. His fingers closed around a broken spear haft from an earlier battle. With a roar, he lunged forward — the spear shaft driving into the figure’s elbow joint. The shadow flinched.

  "Now — while it’s open!"

  His other hand shot out — grabbing the halberd itself. Flames scorched his skin, but he gritted his teeth and twisted the weapon free.

  With a primal roar, Surya spun the halberd in his hands, driving its flaming edge into the figure’s chest.

  The shadow screamed — dark fire erupting around them both. The heat seared Surya’s flesh, but he refused to let go. He pushed deeper, driving the blade to the figure’s core.

  The shadow collapsed into smoke.

  The ninth rune blazed fiercely, lighting the entire arena in crimson fire.

  Surya fell to his knees, vision darkening.

  "He did it," someone whispered.

  "Nine... the impossible..."

  Rudra’s face was grim, yet his eyes flickered with something else — pride.

  "He’s... still breathing," Rudra said quietly.

  The king, silent as ever, merely turned. His words were few, but they carried weight — words spoken only once Surya’s trial had reached its impossible conclusion.

  "The Prince will finish what he started."