The ride toward the Forbidden Forest took most of the day. Caius left the main roads as soon as the estate disappeared behind the hills, following a narrow path through pine woods and stretches of rocky grassland. He had brought a horse, basic supplies, and a notebook full of details copied from Heaven's Wrath. The entries looked absurdly small against the vast world surrounding him.
The novel had made the setting feel like a collection of maps and battles. Out here, the wind had teeth. Branches scratched his cloak. His horse startled at distant cries from the forest, and more than once Caius found himself gripping the reins until his knuckles hurt.
This was no longer a story he could pause to make tea.
By sunset, he reached the mountain near the Forbidden Forest. The slopes rose in jagged layers, shadowed by trees that leaned toward the rocks as though listening. He tied his horse in a sheltered clearing, checked his bag, and began the climb on foot.
He remembered the description: a waterfall, a narrow opening, then a cave concealed behind the falling water. The Echo Chamber member had discovered the artifact there. The novel never explained how the man had passed the trial, only that he came away with a skill that made him more dangerous.
Caius followed the sound of rushing water until he found a small basin below a silver curtain of water. Moss covered the surrounding stones. The air was cool and wet. He searched the rock face until his fingers found a narrow crevice behind the waterfall.
"This had better be the right place," he muttered.
He pushed through the water. Cold struck his body, soaking his clothes and making his teeth chatter. Beyond the curtain, the cave opened into a narrow tunnel. Caius took out his enchanted lantern and stepped inside.
The first trap nearly took his ankle. A shallow depression in the floor looked too regular to be natural. He stopped, tested the stone with a metal rod, and discovered a pressure plate hidden beneath a thin layer of dust. He marked it with chalk and picked his way around it.
The cave grew more complicated as he descended. A wire snapped taut and sent a blade slicing from the wall. Caius twisted aside, felt the wind of the weapon brush his cheek, and crashed hard against the opposite wall. His body reacted faster than his mind, using the reflexes of a trained swordsman he had never been.
"Thank you, original Caius," he gasped. "Your terrible personality may yet save my life."
Farther in, rusted pendulum blades swung from the ceiling. He watched their rhythm, counted the intervals, and dashed through one gap at a time. The last blade missed his back by inches. He did not stop until the sound of it faded behind him.
The next chamber concealed a pit lined with spikes. A narrow stone beam crossed the darkness. Caius tested it with one boot, then moved slowly, arms extended for balance. Halfway across, the beam cracked. He lunged forward and landed on the far side with a painful roll as stones fell into the pit behind him.
He lay still, listening to his breathing. Every instinct told him to turn back. He had already risked enough for an artifact whose reward remained uncertain.
Then he remembered the executioner's sword.
If the future remained unchanged, he would die long before he could regret a reckless decision.
Caius pushed himself up and continued.
At the end of a cramped tunnel, the cave opened into a circular chamber. An ancient stone door stood at the far side. Strange symbols had been carved across its surface, faintly glowing as if they recognized something in him.
He approached and placed his palm against the cold stone.
The symbols brightened. Gears rumbled somewhere deep within the mountain. The door opened a finger's width, then slowly swung inward, revealing a chamber filled with pale light.
A voice spoke inside his skull—flat, emotionless, and much older than the system that had failed him.
[Welcome to the Trial of Sin.]
[The boundaries of morality will blur. The depths of your soul will be laid bare.]
[You have entered the Abyss.]
Caius tried to step back, but the floor vanished beneath him. The chamber stretched into a tunnel of darkness. Images flickered at the edges of his vision: a smiling child, a burning battlefield, a hand reaching through smoke.
Then the darkness swallowed him whole.
When he opened his eyes, he stood in a cobblestone street under a gentle afternoon sun. Wooden carts filled the marketplace. A fruit vendor called out her prices, a blacksmith hammered a glowing bar of iron, and a little girl laughed as her father bought her a skewer of roasted meat. The town looked peaceful enough to belong on a postcard.
Caius turned in a slow circle. "Where am I?"
An old man selling carved toys looked up from his stool. "Eldenbrook. Kingdom of Narellia."
Caius had never heard of either name in Heaven's Wrath.
"What year is it?"
The old man lowered his pipe. "Year 764. Queen Velissa's tenth year on the throne. You hit your head, boy?"
"Something like that."
Caius walked away, observing the village. The fruit vendor repeated the same motion every few seconds. The child's laugh came at precisely the same pitch. A blacksmith struck the same piece of metal in the same rhythm, over and over. The people were too consistent, their expressions too perfectly placed.
A translucent panel appeared before his eyes.
[TRIAL UPDATE]
Day 1
Objective: Survive 30 days
Reward: Unknown
Failure: Loss of Sanity
Caius stared at it. Thirty days. No explanation. No instructions beyond survival.
A village that did not exist, people trapped in repeating routines, and a trial that threatened his mind rather than his body.
He swallowed and looked toward the bright market. The air smelled of fresh bread, and his stomach tightened. He had brought supplies to the mountain, but the pack was gone.
The trial had taken everything except the clothes on his back.
Caius clenched his jaw. "Fine. Thirty days."
He had survived the first impossible thing by refusing to surrender. He would do the same here.
He did not yet understand the real rule of the trial: the village would not kill him quickly. It would teach him, day by day, to believe that he deserved to die.