Jinn BLADE-Chapter 48 | Prelude to Cruelty

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours—and before long,

three days had passed.

Jinn and his friends had been separated during that time, each sent to train under a different mentor—chosen carefully by Merilyn herself, under the order of Venedix.

These mentors were certainly not ordinary teachers.

Some were strong warriors, others were masters of eidra, and a few had lived through pain and loss that shaped them into something tougher than steel.

Each child trained in their own way—through sweat, pain, and struggle.

Not just to fight—but to survive what was coming.

And now, that moment had come.

*GONG! *GONG! *GONG! freewebnoveℓ.com

The deep, ringing sound of large bells echoed through the air.

At first, far away... then louder—closer. The bells called everyone's attention. Not just the fighters, but the whole city.

The second ritual awaits.

Outside the walls of House Sorellia, Jinn and his group stood side by side.

They looked different now—stronger, sharper. The fear in their eyes had lessened, replaced by something else.

Something ready.

Merilyn walked in front of them, leading them forward.

They moved together through the stone streets. Their boots hit the ground in quiet rhythm. All around them, people gathered—civilians watching with wide eyes and hushed whispers.

Some stared. Some pointed. While the others simply watched in silence.

"There they are..."

"They're the ones from the first trial..."

"I heard one of them has crimson eidra."

"Yes—it's that child right there! The one with crimson hair!"

But Jinn paid no mind to the voices.

His eyes stayed forward. He had trained for this.

His sword, Fangeryth, rested on his hip—attached to an intricate sheath that hanged on a leather belt.

The crimson energy inside him buzzed softly, warm—but steady. His muscles still ached from the days before—but he kept walking, never slowing down.

The group crossed a wide bridge, looking down at the lower parts of the city—markets, homes, and tiny people below. Above them, the sky was cloudy and gray, and the weather—cold as usual, yet the winds blew harder than before, as if waiting for something to happen.

And still, they walked—as the cold did not bother them one bit, the eidra within them made them resistant to Juggernot's cruel weather.

They continued to walk upon the stone roads.

Toward the edge of the city.

Toward the place where the second trial waited.

Toward whatever came next.

Towards Destiny.

Jinn wore a serious face, his eyes were sharp and narrow as he looked ahead.

His mind drifted back to his training with Zendrell—the way eidra surged through his body, the feeling of power in every movement.

That strength... it was now his to wield.

He shifted his gaze toward his friends walking beside him.

Each of them carried a different look. Their steps were steady, their faces calmer—but behind their eyes, there was something new.

Not fear.

Not pain.

Something deeper, harder.

They definitely had changed.

Jinn couldn't explain it in words, but he felt it. Their training had left marks on them—not on their skin or faces, but somewhere inside. Whatever it was they went through... it had awakened something.

He placed his hand and tightened his grip on the handle of Fangeryth, then glanced at Merilyn who walked in front.

"So what do we expect in the second ritual?" Jinn asked, his voice steady.

Merilyn didn't answer right away.

Her long coat moved gently with the wind as her boots tapped against the stone road. She walked in silence, eyes fixed ahead.

Then, without turning around, she spoke just one word.

"Cruelty."

Jinn stared at her back, the weight of that word sinking into his chest.

Merilyn's statement was only one word, but the weight it carried felt as heavy as steel.

Whatever the second ritual held, Jinn knew one thing for certain—it would involve even more blood.

He clenched his fists slightly, feeling the pulse of eidra still resting within his veins. It responded to his focus—his will.

He hoped—no, he believed—that the power he had gained from Zendrell's training would be enough... when the time came.

"Worry not, children," Merilyn spoke again, her voice calm but steady. "Remember the teachings of your mentors, and you shall pierce through this ritual."

She turned to them with eyes that, for once, seemed soft and filled with something close to motherly care.

"I shall meet you all again when the time comes."

As those words faded, they arrived at the looming gates of the slave encampment. The noise from within was overwhelming—even through the thick metal doors, they could hear the voices of nobles, slaves, and common folk alike.

Laughter, cries, murmurs of anticipation—it was a twisted festival.

Two soldiers stood at the gate. They clicked their heels, saluting Merilyn before pulling open the heavy doors with practiced ease.

Merilyn stepped back, giving the children a slight nod and a faint sad smile.

"Use all of your eidra wisely—my children."

Jinn furrowed his brow, his eyes hardening as he stepped forward. His body moved on instinct now, driven by a will forged through days of brutal training.

"No use waiting," Verhedyn muttered, smirking faintly as he followed close behind.

One by one, the others stepped through the gate.

Orin, at the very back—paused.

Her hand trembled slightly—not out of fear, but something deeper.

She looked back at Merilyn, her teacher—her guide. The woman who had told her to temper the fire within.

In that brief glance, Orin remembered her words, her warnings.

She felt it too.

A raging flame inside her—a fury that refused to die.

But something else stirred now.

A foreign wind. Gentle... calming.

Like a hand resting on her shoulder, reminding her she was more than anger, more than vengeance.

The two forces clashed within her, flame and wind, rage and peace.

She didn't know yet which would win.

But for now, she moved forward, steady and firm.

And so, the children of House Sorellia walked into the second trial—into a place where strength would be tested, where despair would reach for their hearts.

Would their training be enough?

Would they rise—or break?

Only time would tell.

A step toward strength.

A step toward freedom.

And for Jinn...

another step toward his dream.