Jinn BLADE
Chapter 52 | Towards Gravemarch

Chapter 52: Chapter 52 | Towards Gravemarch

A deafening horn blared through the camp.

The timer had hit zero.

Then came the explosions.

*Bang! *Bang! *Splat!

Chokers detonated in perfect sync, each blast marked by a flash of light and a spray of blood.

"N-No! No! N—"

Screams were cut short. Bodies collapsed where they stood. The scent of iron then filled the air.

Those who had failed to form teams lay still on the ground—unmoving, cold, and already dead—reminders of what hesitation cost in the Empire of Zerafhon.

Jinn’s group stood firm amidst the chaos. Ten figures. Each one different. Their presence drew attention immediately.

From the nobles seated above, whispers spread like wildfire.

"Now that’s a strange mix..."

"Isn’t that one a Drakkar?"

"This team might actually be worth watching."

The murmurs rippled, growing even louder—until the voice of the announcer cut cleanly through the noise.

"As per usual—the slaves shall be sent to their designated planet, Gravemarch—where they must survive for exactly one month," the announcer declared as he raised a single finger.

"Furthermore, hundreds of drones will monitor every team from the moment the slaves arrive. Every step, every fight, every death—it will all be broadcasted live to your devices, whether you’re at home, in your ship, or simply walking the streets."

"Just great..." Verhedyn muttered under his breath, already dreading the idea of being watched constantly.

Before he could say more, a loud roar thundered across the field—coming from the towering Drakkar.

"They shall witness my strength! And know fear!" the beast bellowed, pounding his chest with pride.

Heads turned.

Even the announcer chuckled, clearly amused which was present in his tone.

"Someone’s fired up!"

He then continued. "Every ten days, trucks loaded with supplies will be sent across the planet. You may share them with others... or steal them. That choice is yours."

Jinn’s eyes were fixed on the projections above—live footage of Gravemarch’s terrain.

The towering trees cast vast shadows across the forest floor. A jagged mountain loomed in the far distance, its peak hidden in mist.

"I recommend we camp up in the trees," Jinn said, eyes still locked on the feed. "If what Biyo said is true about the beasts that stalk the forest floor—then higher ground will give us a better chance."

"That seems reasonable," Vox agreed with a slow nod. He then turned to Biyo, who stood quietly, gaze distant and unreadable.

"Biyo? what do you think?" Vox asked.

The older warrior blinked, as if pulled back from thought.

Biyo then spoke with calm confidence, "That’s a good plan—but it won’t be enough. The beasts can and will climb. If we’re going to survive, we need to defend ourselves properly. A simple camp atop trees won’t cut it. We need a structure—fortified and surrounded by walls."

"But that’ll take too much time," Orin cut in,

"The sun will set before we even finish the walls—assuming we’re using the wood from the surrounding."

Biyo gave a small grin. "Don’t worry. I’ve got that handled."

He then turned his gaze toward the towering Drakkar standing nearby—who, coincidentally, matched him in height and sheer presence.

"You, Drakkar—you’ll scout the surrounding area from above when we I start to build when we land."

The Drakkar narrowed his eyes, then slowly leaned closer until he was face to face with Biyo. The air between them thickened.

"Who are you to give me orders, large meat?" the Drakkar growled, his voice deep and rumbling.

"I take commands from no one."

"That’s because your oh-so-great contribution, oh mighty beast, is absolutely essential to our survival!" the mysterious man said, a mocking grin on his face as he spoke.

Orin scoffed, "Tch, you don’t get to say anything here, thief!"

"Oh, I apologize sincerely!" the man said, bowing his head just enough to seem respectful before continuing. "The necklace truly looked just like my daughter’s! I acted on a simple mistake."

"Yeah, right," Orin replied, rolling her eyes with clear disbelief.

*Growl

"There’s no point in arguing here, meats—I’ve decided that my great self shall scout ahead to showcase my amazing scouting skills as a drakkar!" the drakkar snarled, pounding his chest with a resounding thud.

The mysterious man bowed again, his movements deliberate and elegant. "And what might your name be, oh great beast?"

"I am Verkaryon," he followed, flashing a confident smile. "A humble baker from my homeworld."

Jinn curled a part of his lips as he knew that was an obvious lie.

A baker my ass.

The power the man had just displayed didn’t belong to any baker—Jinn could sense the undeniable presence of a powerful eidra manipulator. That only gave him more reason to keep his guard up around this one—this one called Verkaryon.

The drakkar thumped his chest once more, the deep reverberation filling the air. "I am called Garan," he said proudly. "And I hail from the berserker tribe of drakkar!"

"Berserker, you say?" Biyo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "We too have a Berserkir faction back home."

*LOUD CHEERING!

Yet their conversation was interrupted by a loud cheer, even more deafening than the horn from before. The sound erupted suddenly, shaking the very ground beneath them.

The slaves, startled, turned their heads toward the source of the cheer, and Jinn followed their gaze.

He narrowed his eyes, his attention drawn to the center of the commotion. There, a girl stood, surrounded by soldiers and nobles alike.

She looked strangely familiar. It was the young girl jinn had met at the dreadnought—the one who had briefly stopped him and the guard escorting him.

As if sensing his gaze, the girl’s eyes locked with Jinn’s. Confusion clouded Jinn’s expression as he tried to place her, but the girl only smirked in reply, a glint of something mischievous in her gaze.

"I-I can’t believe it!" the announcer stuttered, his voice cracking with excitement as he spoke. "Princess Ezrena is here!" His words rang out, echoing even beyond the encampment, sending the thousands of civilians into a frenzy of cheers and applause.

*LOUD CHEERING!

She raised her hand in a casual greeting, a subtle smile crossing her lips for just a moment, before she returned her expression to its usual calm—her eyes turning back toward Jinn. Without saying a word, she reached into her pocket, pulling out something small. She turned to her guard, handing it to him in silence.

The guard bowed briefly, then, with a resounding crack, he jumped down from his position, the force of his landing sending dust flying into the air around him.

*Bang!

The ground seemed to shake beneath his feet.

The surrounding nobles and civilians murmured in surprise, their voices a low hum of curiosity and wonder as they watched the soldier approach. The murmurs quieted as the guard made his way toward the slaves.

He stopped when he reached Jinn.

"The princess requested that I give this to you—boy," the soldier said, his voice cold as he brought out an obsidian stone, its surface dark and gleaming in the sunlight.

Jinn raised an eyebrow, studying the stone carefully. "And what is this?" he asked, his tone cautious.

The crowd—civilians, and nobles alike—fell silent, watching closely. They all knew what it was, even if Jinn did not.

It was rare for royalty, especially princesses or princes, to attend House Sorrelia’s slave rituals. But when they did, it was customary for them to give out these crystal-like stones to slaves they found...

Interesting.

It was an unspoken mark of attention, one that could change the course of a slave’s life.

The guard’s grip tightened on the stone before he pressed it firmly into Jinn’s hand. "Don’t lose it—or you’ll die."

Without another word,

*Bang!

the soldier leaped back toward the princess’s side, his jump powerful yet also graceful.

The announcer’s voice cut through the silence, his words eager and excited. "The princess herself has taken an interest in someone!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing across the crowd. "This hasn’t happened in... a few hundred years!"

*LOUD CHEERING!

As soon as the announcer finished speaking, the air was filled with a deafening cheer from the civilians, their excitement could be felt.

"Will this boy rise to her expectations?" The announcer thrust his arm to point toward Jinn, then clenched his fist tightly, his voice dripping with anticipation. "Or will he die in the maws of the beast at Gravemarch?"

A subtle click rang out from a device in front of the announcer, and suddenly the transporter began to whir even louder, the sound rising in pitch as it powered up even more.

*Brrr... *BZZZZZ!!!

The tension in the air was thick, and the announcer’s voice rang out one final time, "Welcome to Gravemarch—claw your way, steal, survive, and kill whoever stands in your way! The second ritual officially begins!"

"Soldiers!" the announcer cried out, his voice booming. "Send them all to that planet!"

At his command, the warden raised his hands, signaling for the soldiers to line up the slaves, guiding them group by group toward the teleporter. The field of energy around the transporter shimmered and pulsed with power, ready to send them to their destination.

With a loud zwoop, the first group of slaves disappeared into the energy field, vanishing in an instant as the transporter whirred. One by one, the others followed, slipping through the portal and into an unknown place at Gravemarch.

Jinn narrowed his eyes, his resolve hardening. He could feel the weight of what was about to happen settle on him.

"So it begins..."

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