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When the Gods Play Dice
Chapter 15: The Champion’s Wish

Chapter 15: The Champion’s Wish

And The 325 Battle Begin.

The roar of the arena still echoed in Aron's ears as he stood victorious, his body battered but unbroken. The bloodstained sand beneath him bore witness to his triumph, and now, as champion, he was granted a single wish.

He could have wished for power, for wealth, for freedom.

But only one thought consumed him—

Greg must suffer.

Aron's fists clenched, his body trembling—not from exhaustion, but rage.

There was no way to take the throne; Greg had ensured that.

The moment Aron won, Greg had manipulated the system, enforcing a new rule—no king could be overthrown or killed.

It was a coward's move, yet it sealed Aron's fate.

Aron exhaled sharply, his lips curling into a bitter smirk.

"Then I wish for Greg's ten wives to be given to me."

Gasps rippled through the temple. The gods bore witness.

The wish could not be denied—not unless Greg himself intervened.

A tense silence filled the chamber.

Then, Greg stood from his throne, his eyes burning with fury.

"Denied." His voice was sharp, final.

The priests hesitated, unsure if even a king had the power to refuse a champion's wish.

Aron's smirk deepened. "Afraid to lose, Greg?"

Greg gritted his teeth, his knuckles white from clenching the armrest of his throne.

"You won't take my throne, and you won't take everything from me." His voice dropped into a growl. "You can have five. No more."

A flicker of amusement crossed Aron's face.

"So even you know what defeat tastes like."

Greg's glare could have burned through steel, but he could do nothing.

The gods had spoken.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The divine power wove reality into submission, stripping Greg of half his queens.

His power chipped away piece by piece—not by war, not by rebellion, but by the very rules he had put in place.

And then—

A presence heavier than the air itself settled over the temple.

A deep, amused voice rang out, smooth yet chilling.

The Gods Intervene

"Ah… entertaining as ever."

The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere, sending a shiver through the chamber.

Zeraphis had returned.

"The pieces are now set. The game has become stagnant, and so I have… adjusted it."

A cold chuckle.

"Let's begin again. The game is only fun when the pieces struggle against their fate."

A low hum of divine power thrummed through the chamber as the air shifted.

Then—another voice, silky and playful, joined in.

Vaelora.

"Hmph… Let my new husband play. He still has a role to fulfill, and I'm rather curious to see how he fares this time."

There was amusement in her tone, but beneath it lay something unreadable. Dangerous.

Aron stiffened.

He had won.

And yet, it felt like he had already lost.

The gods had begun their next game.

And Aron was now at the center of it.

The Present – The Arena Resets

The arena roared once more.

Aron stood among the masked warriors, his identity hidden, his fate rewritten.

The crowd screamed for blood.

He was not alone—twenty survivors remained, each desperate for victory.

Yet Aron felt no fear. No hesitation.

His strength, stamina, and intelligence had made him the last arena champion, and now, he would win again.

His gaze swept across the battlefield before locking onto Greg.

Seated in the royal stands, surrounded by ten wives, Greg looked as untouchable as ever.

A smirk played on Aron's lips.

Not this time.

Among the masked contestants stood Ethan and Nile, their faces hidden just like his.

None of them knew who their allies were—or if they even had any.

The arena fell into a tense silence.

Then—

GONG!

The resounding strike of the gong shook the very air.

The crowd erupted, their thirst for violence unmatched.

From his throne, Greg leaned forward, a cruel smirk twisting his lips.

But as his gaze swept the arena, it briefly faltered.

His jaw clenched.

His fingers curled against the armrest of his throne.

Among the onlookers, five familiar figures sat watching him in silence.

His former wives.

Now belonging to Aron.

A flicker of hatred crossed his face.

He masked it quickly beneath his usual arrogance—

But Aron had seen it.

Greg was seething.

Aron's smirk widened.

Present 326th Arena

King Greg"Let the game begin."

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