The long hall stretched before them, its walls lined with faded runes that pulsed faintly with ancient energy. Shadows flickered across the floor as Wads and Reiyell stepped cautiously, the clinking of the handcuff between them punctuating each deliberate step. The chain didn't hinder their movements entirely, but it was a constant reminder that every misstep could prove disastrous in the labyrinthine chambers of the trial.
Wads adjusted the chain slightly and removed his glasses, setting them against his uniform collar. The dim light revealed more of his features, the sharp contours of his jawline, the straight line of his nose, the subtle depth in his eyes—brown, almost a mirror of the fading twilight in the chamber. Reiyell's gaze lingered for a fraction too long, the corners of her eyes narrowing, her breath catching ever so slightly.
"You take them off?" she asked, her tone measured, almost teasing, though there was a subtle undertone of curiosity.
Wads tilted his head, eyes meeting hers, calm as ever. "These eyes… they can't handle very bright light," he replied evenly. "Here, it's dim enough; I can see without them."
Reiyell's lips twitched. "I see… So all this time, you've been hiding this?"
"Not hiding. Just… practical," he said, moving forward, the chain swinging slightly but never tangling.
The hall widened, revealing intricate murals depicting battles and mystical creatures, each painted with a detail that suggested ages of forgotten wars. Dust floated in the air, illuminated by the faint ethereal glow that clung to the walls. Wads' eyes scanned every shadow, every rune, every possible trap indicator, while Reiyell followed with cautious elegance, her ice blade forming and retracting subtly as if to test the responsiveness of the air around her.
They moved forward in silence, each lost in their own calculations, until a strange door appeared ahead. Unlike the surrounding stone, the door was black as obsidian, etched with crimson glyphs that pulsed with an almost heartbeat-like rhythm. It exuded a presence that made the hair at the nape of Wads' neck stand on end.
"Looks… out of place," Reiyell murmured, stepping closer, eyes scanning the glyphs.
Wads studied it carefully. "Or… deliberately placed. Something about this door doesn't follow the same logic as the rest of the hall."
"Curiosity then," Reiyell said, almost softly, the corner of her mouth lifting. "Shall we?"
He gave a small nod, and together they pushed it open. The door moved with an unnatural fluidity, revealing a narrow corridor beyond. No sooner had they stepped inside than the ground beneath them shuddered and disappeared.
For a heartbeat, they plummeted into darkness, the wind whipping past them as the gravity of the fall tugged mercilessly at their stomachs. Wads acted first, threads from Seer snaking outward to subtly redirect their fall, while Gravity Lattice created a localized distortion that slowed their descent. Reiyell's cryomancy flared, forming a shield of ice beneath them that absorbed impact, fracturing under the strain but preventing disaster.
They landed, skidding slightly but alive, but the fall had only brought them to a larger chamber. The air here was thicker, heavier, each inhalation a struggle. Shadows moved unnaturally across the walls, and the faint smell of ozone and burnt stone filled their nostrils.
From the far end of the chamber, a figure emerged. Dark robes swirled around a tall frame, and long, black hair framed a face that was too young to carry the weight of the power it emanated, yet impossible to mistake for anything ordinary. The figure's staff carved the air with a subtle, almost invisible rhythm, as though controlling currents of magic that bent the very atmosphere around it.
When the Arch Demon Mage opened his eyes, the aura that emanated from him was suffocating. Wads immediately felt the weight of his presence like a lead blanket pressing down on his chest, his lungs struggling for air. Even Reiyell, for all her royal bearing and mastery of cryomancy, took a halting step back, her breath uneven, a hint of shock in her gaze.
This was not a foe to be measured with standard calculations. This was something far beyond. A Macheo of diety level XXY—power so rare that it was almost incomprehensible, one in a billion. Even Wads, with his months of rigorous training and Seer, could feel the vast, uncharted gap separating them.
The Arch Demon Mage's voice echoed, low and resonant, as if it vibrated in the very marrow of their bones. "So… you are the ones who survive the first and second trials. Interesting. Let's see if your courage will survive what comes next."
Gravity and ice flared around Wads and Reiyell instinctively. Threads from Seer shot outward, analyzing, predicting, trying to anticipate the Macheo's movements. Reiyell formed an ice blade, its edges shimmering faintly in the oppressive air. But the mage's presence alone made the elemental magic feel sluggish, as if the chamber itself resisted their efforts.
Wads' hands twitched at the chain, already calculating the best sequence of maneuvers. "We'll need to coordinate perfectly. One mistake, and this isn't just over for us—it's fatal."
Reiyell's eyes softened fractionally. "I know," she said, almost in a whisper, though her voice carried the weight of command and dignity. "Let's see what you've learned, Wyxro."
Their first exchange was tentative. The Arch Demon Mage moved with a precision and fluidity that seemed to warp space itself. Gravity Lattice tried to slow incoming strikes, but each spell, each movement, seemed to bend around his distortions. Reiyell's ice struck, only to be deflected by unseen wards that shimmered in the corner of her vision.
They felt themselves being pushed back with every movement. Wads' eyes flickered briefly, fractured clock-like visions from Seer highlighting possibilities that were almost impossibly tight. He could glimpse openings—tiny, almost imperceptible—but each one carried enormous risk. Even with Reiyell's mastery, they were forced to retreat with each exchange.
The mage's staff swept across the chamber, bending air and light to create invisible barriers, altering pressure waves that disoriented both of them. Reiyell's cryomancy fought the heat and pressure, forming jagged ice projectiles to counter, while Wads manipulated gravity to slow and redirect attacks, his Seer threads analyzing probability in real-time. Yet each strike, each defensive measure, barely scraped the Macheo's defenses.
"This… is beyond anything I've felt," Reiyell admitted under her breath, her eyes narrowing as frost crept over her blade. "I've trained for a decade, and even I… feel the gap."
Wads' expression remained calm, but inside, his mind raced faster than ever. Every fiber of his being calculated trajectories, sequences, probability threads. He understood that brute force would not win this fight—they would need to exploit strategy, timing, and precision to survive. "We adapt," he murmured. "We learn, or we die."
The chamber itself seemed to pulse in reaction to the mage, walls bending slightly, shadows flickering unnaturally. Wads noticed how the ground beneath the mage seemed untouched by ordinary physics, subtly bending probability in his favor.
Reiyell's hand brushed against the chain, the small reminder of their tether a constant variable in their calculations. They moved in perfect, if strained, synchronization—Wads predicting, Reiyell striking, both using every ounce of their combined skills. Still, each maneuver was a desperate test, each breath a reminder of the vast gulf between them and their opponent.
Finally, the Arch Demon Mage paused, staff raised, aura pulsing violently, and both Wads and Reiyell felt the sheer oppressive weight of diety-level XXY power press down on them. For a moment, Wads faltered, chain taut between them, mind racing at every possibility. Reiyell's cryomancy faltered slightly, ice forming and melting instantly in the heat of the mage's aura.
Wads clenched his fists, voice low, steady. "We endure. That's all we can do for now."
Reiyell's eyes met his, fiery and green-red orbs alight with determination. "And when we endure, we survive. And when we survive… we fight."
The chamber's air thickened, tension coiling like a living thing. Even standing, tethered together, facing what might be insurmountable, Wads and Reiyell shared a silent understanding: this was only the beginning. The Arch Demon Mage was a storm, a force of nature far beyond their current limits. And yet, they were determined to face it—not with brashness, not with recklessness, but with the cold precision, strategy, and unyielding will that had carried them this far.
The chapter closes with the mage raising his staff, a dark pulse of energy radiating outward, and Wads and Reiyell preparing to counter—both tethered, both aware, and both knowing that the trial ahead would push them to limits they had never imagined.