Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 160: Scar on the Abdomen

Narinder stood firmly before the Mystic, his dark silhouette standing out at the entrance of what looked like a portal that seemed to devour light. His gaze was fixed and determined, although deep down his heart was pounding, reminding him of the magnitude of what he was about to do.

The Mystic watched him in silence for a moment, his face barely illuminated by the dim magical light of the portal behind him. Finally, in a deep, mysterious voice, he said,
—I see you are here to face destiny for the second time, is that not so?

Narinder clenched his fists, gathering every shred of courage he had left.
—I can get the answer to my insecurities here, right? —he asked in a more direct, but no less firm tone.

The Mystic bowed his head slightly, as if he were assessing the conviction of the god before him.
—It is possible... but you must be prepared for everything. Any doubt, any bond. This path demands the risk of losing everything.

Narinder raised his chin, his voice ringing with confidence.

"Don't worry, it's not a bet... because I won't lose."

The Mystic let out a low, almost imperceptible laugh.

"It's a 50/50 duel from my perspective," he said calmly, his words weighing like a veiled challenge.

"I don't care if it's me from another timeline, I won't lose," Narinder replied without hesitation.

The Mystic narrowed his eyes, weighing the god's almost arrogant confidence. Then, with a slow, graceful movement, he lifted the cloak and a portal began to form. The entrance to a dark, winding hallway appeared, an invitation that seemed both tempting and terrifying.

"Go ahead, then," the Mystic said, taking a step back. "Walk into the unknown. Let your will determine if the risk is worth it."

Narinder didn't wait any longer. He took a firm step towards the portal, his feet echoing against the floor as the hallway greeted him with a cold, dense air. The darkness seemed to close in around him, but he did not falter. His steps were sure, his goal clear.

The Mystic was left behind, his figure blurring as Narinder advanced towards what could be the ultimate proof of his existence.

Narinder took firm steps down the hallway, though his eyes cautiously scanned the shadows that twisted around him. Every corner seemed to vibrate with an ancient energy, and the black smoke hanging in the air scratched at his senses as if trying to sink into his essence. The cold was stinging, but not enough to extinguish the flame of his determination.

Despite his outward confidence, his mind could not ignore how reckless it was to enter there without proper preparation. He had entered without offering a sacrifice, by not calling upon extra power to reinforce himself. "Perhaps it is pride," he thought, as a bitter smile crossed his face. This time he didn't want to rely on the strength given by others; this time he wanted to face it himself. It was a personal challenge, one that sought to redeem something he himself couldn't quite name.

The seemingly endless hallway led into a room that felt eerily familiar. It was the same place where he had faced Goliath long ago. The walls of blackened stone, the air heavy with tension, and the feeling that every shadow held secrets that watched over him. Narinder scanned the empty space with his red eyes, looking for any sign of movement, but found nothing.

With a low sigh, he walked to one of the walls and leaned against it, crossing his arms as he tried to calm his mind. His thoughts wandered between memories of past battles and the uncertainty of what was to come. "My rival will soon arrive," he thought, his claws absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his robes.