Chapter 8: Awakening

The smace pulsed like a living heart in Rishi’s hands, its once-golden surface now glowing with a fierce crimson hue. The assassins—trained killers—hesitated for the first time. They had come expecting an orphan with no real power. Instead, they were facing something else entirely.

Rishi could feel it—the raw energy coursing through him, the whispers of the smace’s spirit seeping into his mind. The world around him slowed. Every movement, every heartbeat, every breath was crystal clear.

Then, they attacked.

The First Kill

The first assassin lunged forward, his dagger aimed at Rishi’s throat. Instinct took over. Rishi’s body moved before his mind could process it—he sidestepped effortlessly, twisting the smace in his hands.

CRACK!

The heavy weapon connected with the assassin’s ribs, sending him flying into the brick wall. A sickening crunch echoed through the alley. The man didn’t get up.

The second assassin hesitated only for a second, but Rishi was already moving. He swung the smace in a sweeping arc, forcing the masked fighter to leap back. But something was different. The smace… extended.

The energy surrounding the weapon lashed out like a whip, striking the assassin even though he was several feet away. He screamed as the red energy wrapped around his arm, burning through his clothing.

Rishi’s eyes widened. The smace… changed shape?

The assassin collapsed to the ground, clutching his burned arm.

Two down. One left.

The Warrior Awakens

Rishi felt a shift deep inside him—something primal. The smace recognized him. Power surged through his veins, and then—his body transformed.

His tattered clothing burned away in an instant, replaced by golden armor that shimmered under the dim light. A crimson sash wrapped around his waist, its ends flowing with unseen energy. His bare arms, once lean, now gleamed with strength, encased in intricate golden bracers. His boots, reinforced with the same celestial metal, felt like they belonged to a warrior of legend.

He was no longer just an orphan.

He was chosen.

The last assassin—the one who had spoken before—remained still, watching. He was different. Stronger. Smarter.

Rishi gripped the smace tightly, leveling it at him.

"You’re next."

The man chuckled, stepping forward fearlessly. Unlike the others, he didn’t draw a weapon. He simply raised his hand.

And suddenly, Rishi couldn’t move.

His muscles locked. His breath caught in his throat. A force unseen, yet suffocating, wrapped around his body.

"What the—?!"

"You’re not ready, boy," the man said, his voice calm but laced with power. "The smace is powerful, but power without control is useless."

Rishi gritted his teeth, fighting against the invisible hold. It was like being caught in a steel vice. But then—he felt it.

The smace fought back.

The red energy flared violently, shattering whatever force had bound him. The man’s eyes narrowed in surprise as Rishi broke free.

Rishi wasted no time. He charged.

But in an instant, the man vanished.

A Warning Left Behind

Rishi skidded to a stop, scanning the alley frantically. The assassin was gone. No sound, no trace.

His breath came fast and heavy. His heart pounded. His hands still trembled from the rush of power.

Then, a voice echoed from the shadows.

"This is only the beginning, Rishi."

The orphan turned in every direction, searching for the source.

"Others are coming. More powerful than you can imagine."

A chill ran down Rishi’s spine.

"If you wish to survive… learn control."

Then, silence.

The smace in his hands dimmed, its crimson glow fading back to its usual golden sheen. The armor he had been wearing shimmered—then vanished, leaving him in his regular clothes once more. The air felt colder, emptier.

Rishi clenched his jaw. His enemies were stronger than he had thought. And now, they knew his name.

He had won this fight.

But the war had just begun.

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