The molten light of the Ninth Hall flickered like the heartbeat of something alive.
Kael stood at the center of the dais, the heat searing through his boots, the brand on his chest burning in rhythm with the molten rivers. Above him, the Witnesses murmured in a language older than debt. Chains sang from the walls — hundreds, maybe thousands — their voices a metallic chorus of judgment.
And from the pool of gold, the debtor rose.
It wasn't a creature so much as an idea given flesh: a giant bound in links of shining metal, each chain inscribed with words that writhed like maggots. Its body was shadow and light interwoven, its face hidden behind a mask shaped like a man screaming.
When it moved, the air itself groaned.
Kael's sword, Abyssfang, laughed. "Oh, I know this one. It eats promises."
The Chancellor of Chains leaned forward on his obsidian throne, eyes glowing like coins held to the sun. "You wished to be free, Kael Omari. Prove your worth. Sever the chain that binds your soul."
Kael lifted Abyssfang. "Fine," he said. "Let's see if it bleeds."
The first strike came without warning. The giant's arm snapped out, a chain whipping across the floor with enough force to shatter stone. Kael barely rolled aside, the impact sending a shockwave through the chamber.
The heat, the sound, the weight of the thing — it pressed on him from all directions.
He darted forward, sliding beneath another swing, slicing at the creature's leg. The blade met metal — sparks flew — but the chain didn't break.
Abyssfang howled in his grip. "Harder! You're cutting like a priest, not a killer!"
"Then shut up and help me!" Kael shouted back.
The sword's laughter deepened, echoing through his skull. And suddenly, he felt it — the blade pulling, drinking. The air shimmered as his own shadow rose behind him, mirroring his stance. His breath quickened; veins darkened on his arms.
The next strike bit deeper. The chain groaned, a line of black smoke curling from the wound.
The creature screamed — a sound like iron tearing.
Nia's voice cut through the chaos from the edge of the dais. "Kael! Its chains have words on them — that's its binding! Read them!"
He glanced up, squinting through heat haze. The words were shifting, burning into new forms even as he looked. Debt. Oath. Lie. Love.
His heart skipped.
Love.
For a moment, he saw something — not the hall, not the fight — but a memory. A young girl standing by a riverbank, braiding a white flower into his locks. Her smile bright. Her voice soft.
"When you go, come back. Promise me, Kael."
He had promised.
He had not returned.
The image shattered as the chain struck him full-force, flinging him across the hall. His back hit the wall, the breath knocked out of him. Blood filled his mouth.
"Still alive," Abyssfang whispered, almost tender. "Good. Keep dying slower this time."
Kael spat blood and stood, trembling.
Across the dais, the chain giant advanced, dragging its body forward, molten gold spilling from the cracks in its armor. Each step rang like a verdict.
Nia darted forward, daggers flashing, slicing through one of the smaller chains that anchored the creature to the floor. Sparks flew — the chain hissed, turning red-hot — and for an instant, the monster faltered.
Taye, pale and limping, lifted his hand from behind a pillar. His shadow stretched out, wrapping around the creature's ankle. "Move, Kael!"
Kael charged.
He swung Abyssfang in a wide arc. The sword shrieked, devouring the glow around it. The blade wasn't just cutting — it was consuming.
The chain cracked.
The light dimmed.
And then Kael drove the sword forward, straight through the creature's chest.
There was silence — then a detonation of sound and gold and shadow.
Chains shattered. The Witnesses' chanting turned to screams. The molten rivers surged, rising up like waves, swallowing the dais.
Kael was thrown backward again — this time into darkness.
When he woke, everything was quiet.
The gold was gone. The Ninth Hall was… empty. The walls still glimmered faintly, but the chains had fallen silent.
Nia knelt beside him, her crimson locks matted with sweat. "You're breathing. Barely."
"Where's the Chancellor?" Kael rasped.
"Gone." Her eyes flicked to the dais. "He vanished when you struck the final blow. But… look."
Kael turned.
In the pool of cracked stone where the debtor had stood, something lay half-buried: a single, broken link. It pulsed faintly, like a dying heart.
He reached for it. The moment his fingers brushed the metal, pain seared through his arm. Images flooded his mind — cities burning, faces pleading, a thousand voices crying out one word over and over.
"Owe."
He tore his hand back, gasping.
The brand on his chest had changed. The three rings were gone — replaced by a single mark: the broken link.
Nia stared. "What did you do?"
"Broke the first chain," Kael said, voice hollow. "But I think I just made the second one."
Abyssfang chuckled. "Oh, you did, boy. You just signed your name in blood across the Abyss itself."
Above them, faintly, the bells of Giltspire rang again — not the slow tolls of judgment this time, but the fast, furious rhythm of alarm.
Taye limped toward the stairs, eyes wide. "Please tell me that's not for us."
Nia peered up the tunnel, her face grim. "It's for us."
From the shadows beyond the hall came the sound of boots — dozens, maybe hundreds — and the flash of golden armor.
The Chancellor's voice echoed faintly from the darkness:
"Kael Omari. Congratulations. You've paid your debt. Now… pay mine."
To be continued…