The artifact before the gates of the Celestial Pagoda began to pulse as if it were breathing. An invisible force escaped from its core, sweeping over the seventeen competitors in a single surge. The sensation was that of being swallowed by the void—a temptation so irresistible that denial seemed impossible.
Before allowing themselves to be consumed by the light, however, everyone instinctively looked to their arms. There lay their familiars—steel-fanged tigers, glittering carnivorous plants, luminescent-scaled reptiles, golden-armored insectoids—creatures that, outside this place, could rarely be tamed, yet now were vital extensions of their souls and could not enter the pagoda alongside the competitors.
Doubt soon followed, along with the weight of the impending farewell hanging in the air.
Then, beside each competitor, small black holes opened in absolute silence. One by one, they revealed beloved figures from the other side: masters, allies, close family members.
A collective sigh swept through the group; fear gave way to relief as familiar voices pierced the dimensional barrier, bringing support and confidence.
"Trust yourself."
"Bring honor to our name."
"I will be waiting."
Words of encouragement echoed like blessings.
Beside me, a portal tore open in the fabric of space. On the other side, Lesley stood frozen, her eyes glazed over, fixed on the small lightning phoenix I carried in my arms.
"Hm… give her to me, I'll take care with the utmost care," she promised, extending her hands gently.
Reluctantly, I nodded.
My chest tightened as if it were against natural law to hand over something still burning hot against my skin. Still, I raised my arms, guiding the phoenix toward the veil of the black hole.
But before crossing the threshold, the creature shuddered.
Its eyes flickered with pure terror, and then, in an instant, it transformed into a bluish lightning bolt. The discharge sliced through the air, crackling violently, until it collided with my chest.
I closed my eyes, bracing for impact. The shock that should have torn me apart never came. In the next moment, there was no pain… only emptiness.
The phoenix had simply vanished.
I was speechless.
On the other side, Lesley seemed equally paralyzed, her gaze torn between disbelief and helplessness.
Above, on the royal platforms overseeing every detail of the trial, Selene and Ember watched the scene.
Neither could maintain a neutral posture.
Ember broke first, her voice cutting through the air like an impossible decree:
"A soul bond… after birth… this… this is impossible!"
Even Selene, Queen of Demons, accustomed to the most improbable oddities I had ever caused, found no words. For the first time, her gaze went beyond mere surprise.
It was total disbelief.
**
A tingling ran through my body, so intense it made me hold my breath. Unknowingly, I was drawn inward, into the hidden space reflecting my essence. I closed my eyes and plunged into the depths of my soul, to the world that represented my cultivation.
Everything was there, as always—and yet, different. I floated suspended at a liminal altitude, between two irreconcilable horizons, two suns—a blue one and a red one—illuminating the expanse.
Below me, the black hole of eternal gravity remained open, swallowing everything in silence that admitted neither light nor return. It was the abyss that had always been there, an infinite darkness.
Around me, however, there was something new. Hundreds of spatial rifts cut through my world like cracks in broken glass. Shards of space-time hovered, pulsing. Some were so small they barely seemed like fissures, others vast like the rift I had used to send the stone that became a meteor. Each seemed to breathe in sync with my core.
And above me… the sky. Once only an endless chain of wild lightning, it now pulsed like a living storm. There, a flaming blue bird flew free, sovereign, as if it had always belonged to that place.
The lightning phoenix.
Its wingbeats multiplied the discharges, so intense that the entire firmament seemed ready to collapse upon me, capable of destroying my entire inner world with a single surge of lightning.
I swallowed hard and nodded to myself.
I did not know if this was normal.
In fact, judging by the other competitors delivering their familiars with such ease, it was clear that it was not. I had stepped beyond the known boundaries.
But, despite many doubts, I did not allow myself to dwell on it for long.
I returned to consciousness, opening my eyes. On the other side of the black hole, Lesley still searched anxiously for the vanished phoenix.
"It's okay," I said firmly. "She's inside my inner world. Now, I have to go… wish me luck."
She could not even respond. Her eyes were still wide, words stuck in her throat.
And then I let myself be pulled. The energy emanating from the Celestial Pagoda drew me, sweet and irresistible, like an intoxicating feast. A force so tempting and addictive it devoured my will.
I surrendered without resistance.
I and the other sixteen competitors were swallowed into the Celestial Pagoda.
**
Seventeen points of light were drawn into the infinite vastness.
In the void, they began to orbit each other, pulled by invisible forces like lost satellites around a shared destiny. A system of stars was born in the darkness—seventeen spheres shining in harmony, approaching without touching and drifting apart, tracing paths as beautiful as they were unfathomable.
It was impossible to tell whether we traveled too slowly, trapped in eternal slowness, or too quickly, at a speed so absurd that motion became imperceptible.
Time lost all meaning.
No one could say how long it lasted. Perhaps a second. Perhaps an eternity.
And then, with the same sudden naturalness as a fading dream, we opened our eyes.
We were in an entirely black chamber.
Our feet rested on a shallow liquid surface, just over a centimeter deep, rippling with each step, creating soft echoes that broke the oppressive silence.
Above our heads—or perhaps below, for there was no reliable orientation—a blood-red eclipse rose. Its morbid light barely illuminated the path, painting the environment like a scene from a nightmare.
Forward, backward, to the sides… everything was the same: endless darkness, broken only by the crimson reflection on the water.
We stood still, motionless, suspended between doubt and fear. We looked at one another, unable to comprehend where we were or what had just swallowed us whole.
No one dared take the first step. The weight of that place demanded caution. We exchanged glances, waiting for some fool to break the silence—but in the end, it wasn't necessary.
From the blood-red eclipse above, something stirred.
A rift opened in the center of the darkness, revealing a faerie eye entirely red. Its light, however, illuminated nothing around it. It was as if it were made of a glow that did not belong to that space, existing only to be seen, not to dispel the darkness.
A shiver ran down my spine. That feeling… there was something familiar there. Something I had touched, or that had touched me, but my mind refused to recognize.
The eye grew, expanding with imposing grandeur. At first, it seemed larger than the sun. Then, larger than the entire eclipse. Until nothing remained but it, as if the very region were only the pupil of its presence.
The crimson rift advanced toward us, licking the limits of space, as if devouring everything that dared exist before its gaze.
On the ground, silence was broken by small ripples. The sound of the water stirring echoed softly, as if someone had moved. But no one had stepped.
The ripples repeated, drawing perfect circles, tracing a path converging toward the rift of that colossal eye.
An invitation.
Tension rose like an invisible tide. Eyes met in silence, each waiting for another to make the first move.
"PLAFT."
The sound cut through the air like a blade. Something had fallen into the shallow water. All eyes turned in unison.
There she was.
A competitor with dark skin, hair tied in two long braids, wielding a colossal scythe with an icy blade that radiated almost tangible cold. Silently, she removed a heavy winter coat, letting it fall drenched to the ground. Beneath it, she revealed polished black armor, fitted to her body as if forged for wars we could not yet conceive.
Brows furrowed. No words were spoken, but all understood: she likely came from a zone where cold was not just climate, but law.
The movement triggered others.
The second to act was a young woman with pale skin, platinum hair reflecting the faint light like liquid silver threads. Her face was flawless, made-up, and her clothes so elegant they seemed out of place for someone who had endured ten brutal days of the tournament. Across her back, two crossed scabbards held shimmering swords—one icy blue, the other fiery red—as if she carried fire and ice in perfect balance.
Another sound intersected the space.
The third figure was familiar to me—Weel Indium.
Her hair, white as snow, fell to her waist, her pale skin and icy-blue eyes shining intensely. With a serene gesture, she removed her thick cold-weather cloak, revealing light armor that emphasized her mobility. Tight black pants and a polished bronze corset adorned with fine details gave her the appearance of a precise warrior.
Finally, the last of them.
A competitor with dark skin, a body broad as a wall. His hair in long dreadlocks tied back. Without hesitation, he tore off a cloak made from the pelt of an ice beast—heavy, grotesque, valuable—letting it fall as if it were nothing. His muscular torso, sculpted through pure discipline and warfare, gleamed under the strange light of the eclipse. On his fists, two black gauntlets pulsed with a shadowy glow, almost alive, promising destruction with every strike.
With each gesture, the air grew heavier, denser. It was not merely preparation: it was as if predators had shown their fangs at the first beat of the trial's drum.
"PLAFT."
This time it wasn't clothes being discarded.
It was footsteps.
Firm, measured, reverberating in the shallow water as if marking the rhythm of a ritual.
Someone had taken the initiative—walking toward the rift of the red eye pulsating on the horizon.
The effect was immediate.
Glances crossed like blades, and within seconds, all competitors raised their guards.
The sound of drawn weapons echoed through the darkness.
The natural formation of groups happened as if by animal instinct.
In the center of the area was the largest block, composed of the heirs of the twelve families: Norwenna, Leon, Nathanael, Samael, Varetha, and Darius—the competitor who had removed his ice cloak and revealed his gauntlets.
Their mere proximity was enough to make the space feel suffocating.
To my right, three figures approached me without hesitation.
Alden, with his firm presence. Surprisingly, Tadeus also chose to stay close, one of the survivors from the volcanic region. And finally, a mountain in human form, armored to the teeth, carrying a shield nearly my size and a sword just as massive. His features had reminded me of someone since the first time I saw him, and I was certain. His black hair neatly combed back, his well-groomed beard, over two meters thirty in height, broad shoulders like walls, hands capable of crushing a skull with minimal effort. It was simply because he was Von Cádmus Nox. Elian's youngest brother.
He introduced himself with few words, shook my hand with crushing strength… and then positioned himself silently at my side, as if the decision to fight together had been sealed without the need for a single additional word.
The remaining competitors stayed scattered, yet all marched in the same direction, forming an invisible line. No one wanted to turn their back. No one wanted to be last.
Waan and his sister moved side by side, casting occasional glances in my direction, as if measuring something even I didn't understand.
And then there was her.
The competitor walking alone.
A sinister aura surrounded her, heavier than iron, strange and anomalous. On her face were markings like green scales covering part of her forehead and cheeks; green horns emerged from her brow. The sole survivor of the swamp zone. Her footsteps echoed coldly, devoid of hurry, as if she feared nothing—or had already accepted her own monstrosity.
Other competitors also formed small, tentative alliances in pairs, beginning to walk together.
A sepulchral silence took over the place.
Only the "plaf, plaf, plaf" of footsteps echoing in the shallow water filled the black expanse.
For a brief period, nothing happened.
But we all felt it.
With every step taken, every held breath, the rift of the eye seemed to open a little more.
As if we were not walking toward it, but being pulled by its will.
The steps of all competitors synchronized like the snap of a metronome.
"Plaft."
The repetitive sound pounded deep in my skull, a hypnotic melody of seventeen demons marching together, hearts beating in unison toward the unknown.
But, at some point, the rhythm faltered. Someone lagged behind.