Jonathan falls to his knees, gasping for air; his opponent lay before him, blood still seeping into the sands.

"Victory goes to Jonathan!" The announcer declares, to the resounding cheers of the audience. "Find out tomorrow if he is worthy of being an Oathbound or if Clair will snatch that position from him!"

Just one more battle. Jonathan tells himself. He's fought and survived this long, but he can't celebrate just yet; there's one more battle to be had before he is accepted into the ranks of the Oathbound.

Jonathan staggers out of the arena, exhausted from the recent battle. He makes way for the next fight to start, as a man with a large hammer stands at the ready, waiting for his time to be called out. Another block of people are scheduled to fight, another set of one hundred to find the perfect Oathbound candidate. Will he have to fight the winners of one of the other blocks of one hundred contestants as well? After all this time, why have the ranks of the Oathbound not been filled again?

Questions he should have asked himself fill his mind. He can still back out; he can just go to a manager and say he is withdrawing. He will be able to guarantee his life at the cost of his pride and dignity, but did he really have any before? He was a thief and assassin, a criminal for hire.

It's too late to back out now, Jonathan tells himself. I've come too far just to quit. It's just one more battle.

Jonathan eats his dinner and goes to his cot, looking around the room that is now empty of its previous occupants of the days before, save for one woman. She has a well-trained body with short pixie-cut hair and a bust small enough that it cannot be seen beneath her plate-mail. If considered from the neck down, she could have even been mistaken for a man. She is currently practicing with her sword. Sparks of lightning crackle through the air as she swings the blade around against some imaginary opponent in her kata or whatever she might be doing.

Jonathan observes her, carefully studying her style and form, anything he can use to learn something about his opponent and get an upper hand.

"Scared?" She taunts. "Go ahead, look all you want. Tomorrow, you'll be dead and I'll be an Oathbound."

Jonathan passed level four hundred in both his Classes due to his recent fights, but she has over two hundred levels over him in both of her Classes, and she looks to not have neglected her Bond. A trained warrior, probably been training since birth.

He can still withdraw...

Jonathan shakes his head and stands up. "Well, since you offered." Jonathan sits on a cot closest to her and with a prime viewing position.

Clair smiles smugly and continues to train as if he doesn't exist. She even flaunts a little, with a few twirls of her blade.

Showoff. Jonathan thinks. In his world, that would get him killed in an instant, and he hopes she is a little too overconfident.

Eventually, she stops and goes about her chores, preparing her gear for the fight. Jonathan goes to sleep early to be as fit for tomorrow as he can be.

* * *

"And now the moment you've all been waiting for! Jonathan versus Clair!" The announcer says. Jonathan steps into the arena to the armored woman in front of him. The announcer says more things, but Jonathan is too focused to listen to the fluff.

The Gong is struck, and Jonathan immediately dives into the soul layer, swimming closer. She will expect him to appear behind her or somewhere close, so he will instead leave the soul layer out of striking range. He will then close some distance on foot before playing whack-a-Jonathan to confuse her before striking.

Jonathan enacts his plan. Jumping out early and, just as he expected, she is already swinging behind herself to try and catch him. The look on her face is priceless, and he quickly closes the gap before she can recover. He forms and throws shadow daggers at her, grazing her exposed armpit where there is little armor, and rolls under her punch as she tries to counter-attack.

Jonathan slashes at her leg, striking the gaps in her armor before shifting into the soul layer to strike at her from another angle. However, a foot smashes into his face as he reappears, sending him flying to the wall; a split second later, all of his muscles tense up as lightning courses through him.

He screams in pain and shifts back into the soul layer, reappearing only to be met with another lightning bolt. Lighting swirls around the arena, crawling just over the sand. She is attacking everywhere at once!

Jonathan dives back into the soul layer to give him some time to think. What does he do? Wait her out? This might be a good thing if she wastes all of her mana, but she won't fall for that; she will turn that ability off soon enough. He just has to wait for that; unfortunately, he doesn't know when that is, so he will just have to guess.

After some time, Jonathan reappears next to Clair, aiming for her throat. However, he is repelled by her sword. Again and again, Jonathan tries to land strikes but is repelled by either lightning or her sword, and the longer the fight drags out, the harder it becomes to find an opportunity to strike her.

She has learned my patterns! Jonathan realizes. He tries changing it up, yet she is having an even easier time against him!

Jonathan can feel his mana running out, and he is getting exhausted the longer this fight goes while she seems to be conserving as much mana and stamina as she can, letting him come to her.

She does have a combined four hundred levels over me. Jonathan tells himself. Not to mention her Class tiers are probably higher in at least one of her Classes. There is simply no way of defeating her; he can't win.

Well, there is a way, but he'd rather not use it. He can attack the soul directly, but it results in excruciating pain through the backlash.

Jonathan wracks his brain for any other alternative, anything at all! A few options come to him, and he tries the first two; but is thwarted by her sword, and the third attempt costs him his arm and almost a leg.

Jonathan shifts back into the safety of the soul layer, trying to stem the bleeding on his stump, his leg cut to the bone.

There's no other way to beat her, is there? Jonathan thinks. She's too good; she knew she could beat him; that was why she didn't care if he saw her training. Jonathan braces himself and floats to her soul. Instead of forming a shadow dagger, he instead makes it using his own ectoplasm. Pushing the soul-stuff out of himself and shaping it.

He raises his dagger and brings it down upon her soul barrier. Immediately, Jonathan feels overwhelming pain assault him, but he can't go back now; he has to do this! Jonathan pushes his dagger into Clair's soul as hard as he can, gritting his teeth so hard he worries his teeth might break.

Jonathan screams in pain, his vision going black, but he presses onwards. All thoughts are pushed out of his mind; all he knows is pain, true pain. Then, it stops. Awareness comes back to Jonathan as he realizes that the soul in front of him is cut in two and dissolving into the soul layer... no, it's seeping through it to someplace else.

It seems like this soul layer is merely a barrier that prevents physical things from going beyond it. Jonathan ignores the notification from his skill leveling up and shifts back into the real world, looking at the soulless, empty body of his opponent. He forms a shadow dagger and plunges it into her neck.

"Aaannnd Jonathan is the winner!" The announcer declares. The crowd cheers but not as loudly as last time. This time probably looked a lot more anti-climatic to them. But a new voice silences them all.

"Congratulations, Jonathan, for winning the Oathbound Trial" It is Oathbound Jordan's words that serve as a catalyst for the next notification.

Ting! Jonathan Wodahs, the Human, has won the Oathbound Tournament.

Relief fills Jonathan; he has done it. Immortality, pardoned of all previous crimes, and can now count himself as one of the strongest humans to ever live.

Healers rush to his aid, regenerating his arm, leg, and healing him and any other wounds.

"You may now take your oaths before the emperor himself," Jordan says, joining him on the sands of the arena. His words are devoid of emotion, but Jonathan doesn't care right now, nor does he have the will to think about it. "Do not spend your legendary point yet; taking the oaths will allow you to get Oathbound Classes."

Jonathan nods and follows Jordan to the Palace, the sounds of the arena growing more and more distant.

"From now on, you will be an Oathbound in training, an Oathbound Squire" Jordan says once they pass through the Palace's entrance. Jordan immediately feels the high mana pressure and the Bond presence of the Emperor himself as well as other Oathbound residing in the Palace. The further in the Palace they go, the more the mana pressure increases. Jonathan can already feel mana toxicity sapping at his vitality.

"That is the first thing we are going to need to fix," Jordan says. "Most Oathbound produce so much mana they'd kill themselves, so you need to train a resistance skill for it. You will also need to train how to hold back on your mana production, so you don't go around killing people as you go on missions."

He then stops right before the throne room.

"I will give you one last chance," Jordan says in a warning tone. "If you go through those doors, there's no turning back; this is your last chance to back out; we will not punish you outside of banning you from ever having a chance to become an Oathbound. The Oathbound trial was just the first; there is another and far more deadly trial, and no, you don't get to spend your legendary point for that." Jordan pauses to make sure his words have sunk in.

"However, if you do leave, you will not be pardoned for any crimes you have committed."

I've gone this far; how bad can another trial be? If worst comes to worst, he can just attack the soul directly.

"Does anyone take this opportunity to back out?" Jonathan asks.

"Rarely," Jordan replies. "Most ask for time to decide, but most choose to take the Oath. Spending your point will be seen as backing out, however."

"Why? Why not let us spend the point?"

"For several reasons, but it's mostly to prove that an Oathbound candidate is not a fluke, only the best of the best of the best are allowed to call themselves an Oathbound. You will be trained for the next trial, you will be given every chance to succeed, you will be given the best gear, and training Humanity has to offer, but even still, you are likely going to die." Jordan says. It seems that he almost expects him to turn back.

Expecting him to be a coward rouses his anger. He wants to prove he won't just run away just before the finish line! He has survived in this harsh world, and he will continue doing so!

There's no turning back now!

Jonathan turns toward the large doors and pushes them open. A rush of mana blasts him as he opens the door. There is so much of the Emperor's mana that it stifles him. The Emperor’s Bond presence wraps around him with unbending power. He feels his feet moving as if the very will of justice itself has arrested him for his crimes and is bringing him to the Emperor himself.

"You bring a criminal this time, Jordan." The Emperor says, standing proudly in the hall. The Emperor is like a perfect being, looking no younger than his prime, his flowing golden hair pulled back in a braid. He wears majestic armor fit for a god, complimenting his powerful build. His cape flutters behind him with the Empire's symbol emblazoned on it. Green and Blue eyes seem to look into Jonathan's very being, and judging him as if the man standing before him is the ultimate arbiter of justice.

"I gave him every chance, your majesty," Jordan says, walking next to Jonathan as his legs carry him to certain doom, even as the ever increasing mana pressure chokes him.

Jonathan feels himself kneel and expose his neck. Sweat spills from his forehead; he is going to die here, judged by the Emperor himself. The Emperor steps forward with a gleaming, perfect blade raised high.

Jonathan closes his eyes, accepting his fate. The blade touches his shoulder, its weight oppressive like death incarnate.

"You come to me as a criminal, Jonathan, but now you will speak your oaths; this will forever bind you. You will defend me, the Emperor of mankind, the Empire, and its citizens from any threats, domestic and foreign alike. You will be fair to all and judge only the individual for their own actions and not by the actions of their ancestry. You will seek to end slavery and war, even if the cost to achieve that is war. You will promote the good treatment of all races and not let bias cloud your view of them..." The Emperor goes on, commanding him to be an exemplar of all that the Empire strives to be, to lead by example and prove to everyone that the horrors of life can be ended.

It is very idealistic, but seemingly impossible to acheive. How does one battle against one’s own nature, the natural tendency to take the easy road and only do what benefits oneself? Well, by selecting only the few who can which is why the Oathbound is so selective. To achieve the impossible, one must have the strength to do it.

"... do you accept your oath Jonathan Wodahs?"

"I do, your majesty."

As he speaks these words, Jonathan feels weightless, as if all that he had done before has been washed away. But then a weight presses down on him. Not oppressive, not one to avoid, but one meant to be carried; the weight of his Oath.

"You are pardoned of all crimes previously committed. Now, rise, Oathbound Squire Jonathan. Welcome into the ranks of the Oathbound."