Chapter 277: First Trial (1)

Kane felt his own release building and did not hold it back.

He slammed in deep one last time and came hard, flooding her while her own orgasm hit in a long, shaking tremor that left her braced and breathing heavily against the table.

He stayed buried for two breaths, then pulled out. Seed leaked down the soft skin of her inner thighs.

Retha remained bent over for a moment longer before she slowly straightened, pulled her wrap back into place with steady hands, and turned to face him. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes dark, but her posture had not broken.

Kane fixed his own clothes.

"Thank you, Retha."

She inclined her head once, picked up the wine jug again, and returned to her duties as if nothing had happened, though every warrior in the room had seen it, and the scent of sex now sat openly in the air.

Marisa stepped up beside Kane, voice low.

"Adequate. They saw you take instead of ask. That will travel with the story of the underground fight. Now eat properly. The first trial begins when the incense is lit. You will not get another chance to adjust their opinion before you step into the circle."

Kane returned to the table, sat, and began eating in earnest.

Around them, the serving women continued their work, but the atmosphere had shifted.

The passive human who had sat quietly was gone.

In his place was the same man who had drawn the emperor’s blood and then bent an older maid over a table in full view of the hall without hesitation.

Kane finished the last of the meat and wiped his hands.

He glanced at Marisa as they left the side hall and stepped into the mid-morning light.

"Would you believe me if I said I didn’t get healed at all from that?"

Marisa’s mouth twitched.

For a moment she almost laughed, a genuine sound she cut off before it could fully form.

"That doesn’t matter. The point was never the healing. The point was the watching eyes. You gave them something to talk about besides the cuts you left on my brother. That is enough for now."

They walked together across a wide stone bridge that connected the main palace buildings to a lower open arena.

The sun was bright and clean, washing the black stone in hard light.

Beast warriors and council members already lined the upper terraces and the edges of the fighting floor. The atmosphere was different from the underground, less thick with musk and fear, more focused, almost formal.

In the center of a broad, raised slab of pale stone stood five figures.

They were deliberately distinct.

The first was lean and long-limbed, built for speed, with sharp fox markings and light armor that left his arms free.

The second was a heavy, broad-shouldered bull-blooded warrior whose horns had been capped with iron for the trial.

The third stood in a relaxed, almost casual stance, carrying no obvious weapon; his eyes tracked everything with the calm of a pure technician.

The fourth was taller and rangier, scarred across both arms, the kind of fighter who won by lasting longer than everyone else.

The fifth waited slightly apart, smaller than the others, with the restless posture and visible throwing knives of someone who preferred dirty angles and sudden openings.

A council member in formal bone markings stood at the edge of the slab, an older lion-blooded male who had spoken during the earlier debate.

He was the overseer for this measure. Grathak himself wasn’t present on the floor; he watched from a high seat on the northern terrace, red eyes half-lidded, still picking at a plate of meat.

Marisa stopped at the edge of the approach.

"Remember the rules. No killing. Submission or clean incapacitation only. The incense is already lit."

She nodded toward a tall iron stand where a thick coil of dark incense burned with a steady, pale smoke.

"When it runs out, the trial ends. Controlled strength. Nothing more."

Kane unstrapped Mjoldr and set the axe down on a waiting stone rack. The system window flickered briefly at the edge of his vision.

[Trial: First Measure – Control]

[Condition: Non-lethal only]

[Time Limit: Incense duration]

[Controlled Berserker Output: Available]

[Current throttle: 0%]

He rolled his shoulders once, feeling the ache from Grathak’s kick, and then simply jumped down from the approach onto the slab.

The landing was clean.

He walked forward across the pale stone without hurry until he stood at a comfortable distance from the five waiting warriors.

The overseer raised his voice so the terraces could hear.

"First Measure of the Three. The outsider will face the five in sequence. No killing. The incense is the clock. Begin when ready."

Kane looked at the first opponent, the lean fox-marked speed fighter, and gave a short nod.

"Whenever you want."

The fox-marked warrior moved instantly, closing the distance in a blur of footwork and sharp, testing strikes aimed at eyes, throat, and knees.

Kane let the first flurry pass, reading the rhythm, then stepped inside a low kick and answered with a short, precise elbow to the solar plexus.

Bam!

The air left the warrior in a rush.

Kane followed with a controlled sweep that put him on his back and a final knee that pinned the sword arm without breaking it.

The fox-marked male tapped the stone hard twice.

Kane stood and stepped back.

"One."

The system noted the exchange.

[Controlled Berserker Output: 25%]

[Efficiency: High – minimal excess force]

[Opponent 1: Submitted]

The second warrior, the heavy bull-blooded one, already stepped forward, iron-capped horns lowered, massive shoulders rolling.

He came in like a living battering ram, trying to overwhelm with pure mass and short, crushing punches.

Kane didn’t meet force with force.

He used the new, finer throttle of the Rage, letting just enough power rise to sharpen his timing, slipped the first charge, drove a heel into the side of the leading knee hard enough to buckle it without shattering the joint, then locked the thick wrist and used the bull-blooded warrior’s own momentum to send him face-first into the stone.

Thud.

A clean choke across the neck finished it. The large male struggled for a few seconds, then slapped the slab in submission.

Kane released him and stepped away again, breathing evenly.

"Two."

[Controlled Berserker Output: 30%]

[Residual strain: Low]

[Opponent 2: Submitted]

A low murmur moved through the watching terraces.

Two down, cleanly, without drawn-out struggle or unnecessary damage.

Vorra’s representative watched with open attention.

Several of the pure-blood heads looked less pleased.

On the high seat, Grathak’s red eyes had opened a little wider, the half-lidded boredom replaced by sharper interest.