Satya stood at the base of the looming Five-Star Hell Gate, feeling a chill crawl up his spine. This was no ordinary trial. A gate of this rank was infamous across realms, and its reputation was one of near-impossible survival. Vayunanda, his mentor, had warned him—this would test not just his strength, but his very will to live.
The sky above them darkened, clouds swirling like a violent vortex. The air turned cold, the ground beneath their feet beginning to crack and splinter. The Five-Star Hell Gate loomed in front of them, dark and menacing, its edges glowing with fiery red runes that pulsed with power.
"Get ready, Satya," Vayunanda said, his voice steady. "Once we enter, there's no turning back."
Satya's heart raced. He had faced many trials, but none like this. "What exactly are we up against?" he asked, his voice shaking despite his best efforts to mask it.
"You'll see soon enough," Vayunanda replied cryptically, his hand resting on his sword's hilt.
Without further hesitation, the two of them stepped into the gate, and the world around them shifted.
The landscape inside the gate was nothing like the ones they had encountered before. It was a barren wasteland of blackened stone, twisted and gnarled trees reaching into the sky like skeletal fingers. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur, and the distant sound of war drums echoed in the far-off horizon.
And then, from the shadows, they emerged.
Thousands of monster soldiers, their grotesque forms massive and inhuman, flooded the field. These were not the standard creatures Satya had fought in the lower-rank gates. No, these were hulking beasts with armor made of bone, their eyes glowing with the malice of the Hell realms. Some were monstrous beasts with six arms, others had serpent-like bodies, their scales glistening in the dim light.
Three towering gatekeepers stood at the forefront, their bodies as large as mountains. Each one was an embodiment of terror: one wielded a massive warhammer, another a spear made of blackened bone, and the third carried a shield so large it could block entire armies. These were the true guardians of the Five-Star Hell Gate.
Satya gripped his sword, his knuckles white with tension. He could feel the pressure of the situation in every fiber of his being. "We need a plan," he said, though his voice trembled.
Vayunanda glanced at him. "No time for plans. Just fight, and keep your focus."
The ground shook as the first wave of monsters charged toward them, their roars deafening. Satya's heart pounded in his chest, his instincts kicking in as he swung his sword, cutting down the nearest monster with a clean strike. His blade sunk into the creature's chest, blood and black ichor spilling out.
But there were too many. The monsters kept coming—endless waves of them, each stronger than the last. Satya fought fiercely, but for every one he took down, two more appeared in his place.
Then, a chilling roar cut through the battlefield. The gatekeepers began to move.
The first gatekeeper, the one with the warhammer, swung it with terrifying force. Satya barely managed to dodge, the hammer missing him by mere inches, but the shockwave from its impact sent him flying backward, crashing into the ground. His breath was knocked out of him, pain shooting through his body.
He struggled to rise, but before he could get back to his feet, the second gatekeeper, armed with a giant spear, charged at him. The spear's blade gleamed as it came down toward him.
"Satya!" Vayunanda's voice rang out, and in the blink of an eye, he was beside him, swinging his sword with lethal precision. He blocked the spear, sending the gatekeeper stumbling back.
But the battle was far from over. Satya tried to regain his footing, fighting against the monster soldiers. He hacked and slashed, his sword moving almost instinctively, cutting down dozens of creatures in rapid succession. But no matter how many he defeated, they seemed to multiply.
The gatekeepers, meanwhile, were unhindered. One of them, the one with the shield, stepped forward, creating a wall of impenetrable defense, forcing Satya and Vayunanda to fight in close quarters.
Vayunanda's movements were fluid, his strikes quick and deadly. He seemed like a force of nature, cutting down the monster soldiers with ease, his sword moving like a blur. He destroyed two gatekeepers in mere moments, their massive forms crumbling into dust. But even so, the third gatekeeper was still standing strong, its shield raised high.
Satya, though exhausted, continued to fight. His sword, now slick with the blood of countless monsters, began to feel heavier with each passing second. His legs wobbled from fatigue, his vision growing blurry. But he refused to give up. He had to push through.
Then, with a scream of frustration, Satya launched himself at the remaining gatekeeper. He charged, slashing his sword with all his might. The shield came down in defense, but with a burst of sheer willpower, Satya struck with an unexpected move. He planted his foot on the creature's shield, using it as leverage to swing up, his sword sinking into the gatekeeper's neck.
The creature howled in pain as it collapsed to the ground, defeated at last.
Panting heavily, Satya looked around. The monster soldiers were still closing in on them—countless numbers of them. The battlefield was strewn with bodies, and the stench of blood and death filled the air.
Before Satya could even process the enormity of the battle, he saw Vayunanda, standing amidst the carnage. His movements were fluid, graceful even as he cut down the remaining soldiers. With each strike, monsters crumbled into nothing. Within moments, the battlefield was silent, save for the distant echoes of the war drums.
Satya stood still, staring at the destruction. His body ached, his wounds stinging as he tried to regain his breath. He had killed hundreds of soldiers, but it had been Vayunanda who had truly carried them through the fight.
Vayunanda turned to Satya, his eyes scanning the young warrior. "You fought well," he said, his voice as cold and measured as always. "But you are nowhere near ready for what comes next."
Satya nodded, feeling the weight of the truth in those words. "I almost lost my life back there. I didn't feel ready for any of this."
Vayunanda's expression softened, just a fraction. "You need training. Not just physical. You need to understand yourself—your limits and your potential."
Training with Vayunanda
For the next several days, Satya underwent intense training. Vayunanda pushed him to his breaking point, never once allowing him to slack off. They trained at dawn and fought through the night. Satya's body grew sore, his mind stretched to its limits. But with every strike, every push, he felt himself growing stronger.
Vayunanda's methods were harsh, but effective. He taught Satya to read the flow of battle, to move not just with speed but with purpose. He sharpened Satya's reflexes, made him aware of every muscle in his body, teaching him to wield his sword with more precision.
"You can't fight like you did before," Vayunanda told him one evening as they rested. "You're not just a boy with a sword anymore. You have power now, and with that power comes responsibility. You need control."
Satya nodded, exhausted but resolute. "I understand. I'm ready."
Vayunanda then sat down beside him, his expression pensive. "You've come a long way. I can't say the same for myself, though."
Satya looked at him, curious. "What do you mean?"
Vayunanda's gaze turned inward, and for a brief moment, Satya saw a flicker of vulnerability. "I wasn't always like this. I wasn't always the one others looked up to. There was a time when I was just a soldier, lost in the chaos of the world. But I learned—through loss, through failure—what it meant to truly fight."
Satya was silent, understanding the weight behind those words. He could relate more than he ever could have imagined.
"I don't have much family left," Vayunanda continued, "but the ones I've lost shaped who I am now. That's why I fight, Satya. Not just for power, but for redemption."
Satya, his thoughts turning to his own painful past, finally spoke. "I know what you mean. I used to think I was just some leftover child. But now… I fight for a future. I fight to change everything that's been taken from me."
Vayunanda nodded, a rare smile forming on his lips. "Then we're alike, after all."