When someone knocked on the door, Noctis snapped back to himself.
He turned his gaze toward the sound, sensing something strange spreading from behind it.
That sensation was nothing unusual.
After the first trial, every awakened human could sense other magical beings —
especially those of higher tier, whose energy could be felt from miles away.
The aura behind the door was familiar to Noctis: mysterious, steady, and quiet.
He already had a good idea who it belonged to.
He hurried to the door and opened it.
"Congratulations, Noctis... You've made me proud."
Standing there was a man in a scaled silver armor, his golden hair shining faintly, his green eyes sharp. He looked middle-aged but carried a charisma that could silence a crowd.
Noctis froze for a moment — then remembered that his grandfather had mentioned Sylen's visit.
Warmth spread through him. He had missed his uncle. Even if the trial hadn't lasted long in the real world, it had felt like years had passed inside that place.
He smiled faintly, nodding, and stepped aside.
Sylen ruffled his hair with a rare softness and entered the house. After a brief chat with the old man, he and Noctis sat facing each other in the other room.
"Your grandfather said the trial ended in just a few seconds... That doesn't happen often."
Noctis raised his brows and shrugged.
Sylen smiled. He wanted to hear everything.
Noctis gave him a short version — though it was enough to make Sylen's eyes widen.
"Quite the impressive magic...
But why shadows? And why such a heavy punishment? Didn't your soul guide tell you anything?"
Noctis frowned slightly and shrugged again.
"That thing calls itself my guide, but it doesn't seem to know anything. Or maybe it just doesn't want to talk."
Sylen's expression turned distant for a few seconds — mild surprise mixed with unease.
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about that.
The spell usually doesn't assign punishments in the first trial... especially not one like this."
He paused, then leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"We'll talk about that later.
What matters now is—what will you do next?
You said you're bound to devour shadows...
But in the human realm, shadows or monsters are extremely rare."
Noctis froze for a brief moment, his gaze dropping to the floor.
'He's right... I didn't even think about that.'
Sylen's expression softened — a mix of concern and quiet sadness — but within seconds, it shifted into something brighter, almost hopeful.
"Don't worry — your uncle did his best for you... I enrolled you in the Sinner School."
He put a hand on Noctis's shoulder and winked.
A warmth spread inside Noctis.
His uncle's faith that he'd survive the trial touched him deeply. A pleasant smile eased across his face.
Sylen wasn't his blood uncle, but he acted like a real one.
"Thanks, uncle..." Noctis said.
Sylen explained the Sinner School in detail. According to him, the Sinner School taught newly awakened people about the realms and trained them physically and mentally. They would send sinners, under controlled conditions, into the magic realms humanity had almost conquered. Once awakened students completed their training, they were free to enter the realms.
"But uncle, two problems if I go to the school. How will I eat shadows? And who will take care of grandpa?" Noctis asked.
Sylen shrugged.
"…Don't worry too much. Students are often sent on assignments in the magic realms. You'll be asked to kill 1st-Tier monsters… The school won't last forever. Think of it as preparation for the collapse of the realms."
Noctis started to say something, but Sylen cut him off.
"My own niece will be there. You met as children, though you probably don't remember... Years of work finally paid off. I'll take your grandfather into my home. So don't worry about anything."
Noctis's smile grew. After all he'd been through in the trial, the news felt like a balm. This was one of his rare good days.
They talked a few more minutes. Sylen had to return to work. He greeted the old man and left.
Noctis sat beside his grandfather with a small smile. The old man's face returned the smile.
"Sylen said you leave for school in two days," the old man said.
Noctis nodded.
"Yes... But I don't think they'll teach anything better than what you taught me about surviving."
The old man chuckled; the creak in his voice sounded almost musical.
"I only taught you my military knowledge. I fought with firearms and knives. But you'll use a sword or something else there. Don't worry — the teachers there are 2nd-Tier. They'll help you more than I could."
Noctis gave a suspicious glance.
After chatting a few more minutes with his grandfather, he went to the other room and summoned the dark runes.
As he stared at the words of shadow, the memory of what the magic had told him returned.
For several minutes, he looked at the dark letters with a thoughtful expression.
'The Mad King's kingdom was destroyed earlier... because of me? That soldier called River a madman. There were traitors in his kingdom... Could the Mad King be River?'
He stared at the darkness-reflecting words for a few more seconds and shrugged.
'The magic said it had a gift for me. It said I was "walking the path of filth," yet still rewarded me... I truly don't understand.'
[ Because you satisfied the magic, you've been granted a weaker replica of the chained sword. ]
'A weaker replica?'
[ Name: Rusted Chain ]
[ Type: Weapon ]
[ Tier Level: 1st Tier ]
[ Potential: Low ]
[ Spell Ability: Broken Chain ]
[ Broken Chain — When activated, the body breaks its restraints. Agility and strength increase slightly. ]
[ Memory of the Rusted Chain: A wise king forged a sword for his young son to play with. But the boy defied his father and used it to cut the slaves' chains. ]
'The active spell is useful... but why are all these memories so twisted?'
Noctis dismissed the runes and summoned the Rusted Chain. His hand began to itch, and within a second, a sword appeared — about a meter long, roughly the width of a man's wrist, black and worn with age.
Chains coiled tightly around the blade as well, but these were smaller. Looking closer, he noticed they were rusted.
'As long as the steel isn't rusted too, that's fine... It's a little shorter than the last sword.'
He weighed it in his hand and gave it a few swings.
'Lighter... and just as silent.'
He examined the Rusted Chain for a while and dismissed it. Then his gaze drifted to the worn-out bed. Slowly, he lay down and let his thoughts wander. Remembering what he had gone through in the first trial made him shiver.
After a few seconds, something came to mind.
'Right... I almost forgot the thing I was most curious about.
Since I'm a sinner now, I should be able to do it too.'
Noctis sat up in bed.
He tried to calm his breathing and focused on his soul.
He took deep breaths and closed his eyes.
For several minutes, he remained still—
then slowly began to feel as if he were being pulled inward...
He opened his eyes.
A sudden thrill filled him—then faded just as quickly as he looked around.
Each time he turned his head, his face sank a little further.
'This is the same damned place... Where's the beauty everyone talked about? They lied to me.'
While cursing under his breath, a gray mist began forming nearby.
It thickened until the familiar Black Skeleton appeared.
"Welcome to your soul realm, my lord..."
Noctis frowned and spoke loudly, though his voice seemed to vanish in the void.
"Hey, skeleton—why is my soul realm like this? I can't even tell if it's dark or just... nothing."
The elegant skeleton looked at him with two hollow pits that stretched into eternity.
Its voice was as empty as its gaze.
"I'm not sure what you expected to see, my lord... This is merely a reflection of your soul.
Perhaps there is nothing in your soul—hence, nothing here either."
Noctis raised an eyebrow and stared blankly.
'Is it just me, or is the skeleton talking... weirder than usual?'
He looked around again, spinning slowly in place.
"I mean, why is there nothing to see?
From what I've heard, soul realms are supposed to be beautiful."
A hollow sound filled the air after a short pause.
Noctis could barely even tell if he'd heard it.
"As I said, my lord, the soul realm is the reflection of the self... Those who told you that may have rather unusual souls. Besides... isn't this place beautiful to you?"
Noctis's eyes were nearly as empty as the skeleton's sockets.
'So basically... my soul is empty.'
He sighed—or at least, he thought he did.
"But it's not the appearance that matters, my lord," came the hollow voice again.
Noctis lifted an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
The Black Skeleton waited for a few seconds, then stepped forward. It raised a finger, thin and fleshless, and touched Noctis's chest.
"I believe they only told you about the appearance of this place, my lord. While you're here, your core moves closer to your soul and produces more essence. Your body absorbs more energy than it would through sleep. Your mind finds ease...
And because this realm is so simple, you waste no time on distractions."
Noctis raised one brow higher than the other.
'He really does sound different...
And I didn't know any of that. That's... actually amazing. Though a few nice visuals wouldn't hurt either.'
He stared into the endless void for a few seconds. Despite its emptiness, a faint peace began to bloom inside him.
'At least... it's strangely peaceful.'