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Angus, returning after his mysterious absence, bore the weight of a daunting task assigned by Emperor Zenumus. No one questioned him about the reason for his absence.

The mission, venturing into the treacherous deep sea of monsters, was no ordinary feat. The monstrous horde lurking within the crimson depths posed a dire threat to the magical realm, and only someone of Angus\'s calibre could face the challenge head-on.

Zenumus, trusting his brother\'s capabilities, didn\'t question Angus\'s actions. The brothers, bound by a deep understanding and loyalty, complemented each other\'s strengths. While Zenumus excelled in leadership and governance, Angus possessed the raw strength and combat prowess necessary for facing formidable foes.

The deep sea red, stained with an ominous red hue, concealed an unimaginable number of monsters. Tens of thousands of creatures, each more menacing than the last, awaited in the shadowy abyss.

*

In the dimly lit cavern that seemed to devour any trace of light, a young man found himself confined to a dark, subterranean prison. A young man in his late teens, he had no recollection of how he ended up in this darkened place. The only source of illumination came from flickering flames, casting eerie shadows on the rough-hewn, long corridors and the iron bars in front of him.

His surroundings were oppressive, damp, and reeking of despair. The air itself seemed to conspire against hope, a muffled symphony of distant echoes reverberating through the stone and metal confines. He could feel the chill seeping into his bones, a constant reminder of the unforgiving depths that surrounded him.

As his eyes adjusted to the perpetual twilight, he noticed the crude furnishings scattered around—a few worn-out straw mats on the ground, a battered wooden stool, and the glint of metal chains hanging ominously from the cavern ceiling, which were holding him by both wrists. The sound of dripping water echoed through the chamber, each drop a metronome counting the passing moments of his captivity.

His wrists bore the marks of confinement—bracelets embedded into his skin, a cruel fusion of metal and flesh. These grotesque adornments were both his shackles and his captors\' instruments of control.

His hands had now returned to their usual complexion, but at the wrists, there were spider web-like threads stretched from the bracelets.

He traced the contours of the metal with his fingertips, the cold, unyielding touch was a constant reminder of his helplessness.

In the midst of this underground purgatory, a realization dawned upon him—this was no ordinary prison. The stifling atmosphere, the metallic tang in the air, and the distant murmurs of unseen crowds hinted at a more sinister truth. He realized that he was in some underground prison-like place.

Days blurred into nights as he languished in the valley\'s depths. There was no natural light, no concept of time. He subsisted on meagre rations that appeared mysteriously, delivered by unseen hands. The only constant was the rhythmic thud of his own heartbeat, a lifeline that pulsed in tandem with the muted sounds of struggle echoing through the cavern.

The damp and confined cell became Jaegar\'s world as he languished in restrained captivity. His surroundings were an indistinct blur, and his vision was still clouded from the disorientation of his recent ordeal. Periodically, he was blindfolded and transported to an unknown location.

Muffled shouts and distant cheers reached his ears, hinting at the presence of a lively crowd. He couldn\'t discern exactly where those sounds came from. Ever since he came to senses, his mind was not thinking about the situation he was in; rather, he was worried about where his aunt was or what happened to her.

In the isolated darkness, Jaegar struggled to piece together the fragments of his reality. The cloth shrouding his head during these movements obscured the world outside, leaving him to rely on his other senses. The journey through these dark passages seemed to echo the collective excitement of a bustling city, or perhaps an arena filled with fervent spectators.

The disconcerting uncertainty of his situation weighed heavily on Jaegar\'s mind. Each passing moment in the oppressive cell heightened the urgency to comprehend his surroundings and discern the purpose behind his captivity. The distant sounds of the crowd persisted, a constant reminder of the enigmatic world that existed just beyond the limits of his confined existence.

Freed from the constrictions that bound him, Jaegar found himself able to move, albeit in a world stripped of magic. The intricate bracelets, once a source of torment, now felt like a seamless extension of his being. Upon closer inspection, the patterns on the thin bands revealed themselves as complex and mysterious.

Emerging from the confinements of the cell, Jaegar discovered he was in the heart of a subterranean city. The underground caverns housed a community of people dressed in tattered and worn attire. The ambiance was grim, yet a small arena hinted at a different aspect of their existence—one that involved fierce combat and primal struggles.

Jaegar\'s new reality became evident as he was thrust into the hands of Rhalf, a man who oversaw the brutal fights within the confines of the underground arena. Jaegar found himself entangled in a world where survival meant engaging in fist bouts, the echoes of struggle reverberating through the cavernous depths. The bleakness of this subterranean life became his harsh new reality.

Amidst the assembly of enslaved fighters, Jaegar found himself repeatedly summoned to the brutal arena by Rhalf. His initial fights ended in defeat, as he grappled with the remnants of the physical toll inflicted by the mysterious bracelets.

The underground society, overseen by Rhalf, thrived on the spectacle of combat—gambling, bets, and raucous cheers dominated the subterranean domain.

Despite his losses, Jaegar\'s resilience grew. He abstained from deploying his magical prowess, allowing his natural strength to gradually reassert itself. The crowded arena, filled with a cacophony of cheers and wagers, witnessed Jaegar\'s silent struggle to reclaim his magical prowess.

Among the spectators, Rhalf, the overseer of this grim spectacle, stood with an air of authority. His almond-shaped eyes, deep brown and calculating, observed the arena with a keen interest. The angular features of his face conveyed tales of experience etched into the lines of his skin, hinting at the harsh life he had lived.

Rhalf, accompanied by the enigmatic figure who had brought Jaegar from the mountain peak, remained an elusive presence in the underground world.

Xilong Li had been visiting the underground now and then. He took Jaegar for a reason, and it had been a failure because of the bracelets they put on him. Even they hadn\'t expected what happened to Jaegar. Continue reading at m|v-l\'e -NovelBin.net

Those bracelets were ancient artefacts that had a significant effect and made him unable to use magic but also made it impossible to gain access to his secrets in his body, as they were believed to be.

Jaegar, amid the tumultuous underground arena, harbored a gnawing recognition of the mysterious man who had orchestrated his descent into this unknown place. Cautious and mindful of the enigmatic figure\'s potential role in his predicament, Jaegar refrained from directly questioning him. Patience became his ally as he bided his time, determined to unravel the mystery surrounding his captivity.

The relentless fights within the pit exacted a punishing toll on Jaegar\'s already strained physique. The fistfights, an unforgiving regimen, hampered his recovery, threatening to undo the progress he painstakingly achieved.

The need for physical resilience and a clear-headed approach intensified. Jaegar grappled with the harsh reality of his circumstances, contemplating the demanding nature of the pit battles and their toll on his body.

Acknowledging his limited hand-to-hand combat skills, Jaegar drew upon fragments of earthly training. Slowly, he began to hone his physical prowess, adapting to the pit\'s brutal dynamics. Nourishing his body with whatever sustenance was provided, Jaegar prioritized healing and regaining strength.

In moments of respite, he engaged in meditation, seeking solace to calm the tumult within his mind.

Days elapsed, marked by the relentless rhythm of the underground world. In a recurrent cycle, Jaegar found himself once again summoned to the pits, where the looming uncertainty of each bout beckoned.

*

Jaegar absorbed the shocking revelation that he was far from the familiar confines of the Draguwen Empire. Pampaelo, the city he found himself in, belonged to the distant kingdom of Wrescia. The realization hit him like a physical blow, for he was hundreds of miles away from the academy, the imperial state, and any semblance of support.

The gravity of his situation settled upon Jaegar\'s shoulders, the weight of distance amplifying the urgency of his predicament. Escape seemed daunting, and he understood that he had to navigate this unfamiliar terrain alone, without the backing of the empire.

As Jaegar moved through the narrow streets of the underground area, he couldn\'t shake the feeling of being constantly watched. Shadows trailed his every step, and the ever-present eyes of Rhalf and Li, the man connected to his enslavement, loomed like an ominous spectre. The knowledge that his every move was monitored fueled a sense of vulnerability that Jaegar couldn\'t ignore.