The silence that followed the old demon's words was heavy, filled with the weight of thousands of years. His golden horns caught the faint emerald light from Leo's blade, reflecting a glint of former majesty.
''A Lord of the new era, accompanied by a soul that smells of the ancient past,'' the demon murmured. He shifted slightly, and the sound of his movement was like shifting sand. ''Ahhh, I have waited in the dark for so long that I forgot the color of the sky.''
''Give us a name, remnant. Or return to the void you came from,'' Malphas said. His aura did not dim; if anything, it grew more violent in the presence of a demon.
''Names are the first things Origin takes warrior,'' the old man replied, his black void eyes fixed on Leo. ''In the 3rd Age, I was called Valerius. I served the Mistress of the Twilight Moon."
''When she chose to embrace her end, she appointed several High Seneschals to find a worthy lord to inherit her legacy,'' Valerius explained.
''What kind of legacy? And who exactly was she?'' Leo questioned.
''Before the nature of her legacy is revealed or its location disclosed, you must first survive a small challenge she left behind,'' the old demon smiled, the expression looking like a salesman delivering a desperate pitch.
''So you're saying anyone who wanders in here can just pass a little trial and walk away with a legacy?'' Leo narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with skepticism. ''Doesn't that sound a bit too convenient?''
Valerius sighed, a hollow sound as he glanced at the altar behind him. ''Hardly. You are no common wanderer. Even with my sight, I cannot discern the nature of your bloodline or your race.'' His void-like gaze shifted toward Malphas.
"Furthermore, the fact that an ancient soul like this warrior deigns to serve you suggests you are a lord of significant character. My time is short. Origin is devouring my memories, manifesting them as the very Echoes you just slaughtered.'' He gestured toward the ceiling. ''So, young lord, do you accept?''
Leo paused, then began to turn away. ''No thanks. I think I will pass. I am not quite ready for a legacy.''
'He is desperate. If I push him now, he will show his real hand,' Leo thought, signaling Malphas to follow him toward the exit.
Valerius flinched, his composure shattering. 'No! If he departs now, my duty remains unfulfilled. Every candidate before him fell to the trials.'
''Wait! Do not leave!'' Valerius cried out, his voice a desperate wail. ''There is an immediate reward for the trial, and if you eventually reach my queen's true legacy, you will be granted treasures beyond your imagination!''
''Still not interested,'' Leo snickered, maintaining his pace. 'Keep talking, old man. I know you have a hidden stash.'
Valerius looked like he was about to fall apart. He reached out a shaky hand, his black eyes widening. ''Wait! You are a difficult one, young lord. Fine! I will give you something from my personal collection before the trial even begins. Just... please, do not leave.''
Leo stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. ''Now we are talking. What do you have?''
Valerius conjured a shimmering orb between his palms. ''I have observed your movements. You possess the raw instincts of a predator, but you are an amateur with that dagger. This orb contains a fundamental imprint of mastery for every weapon ever forged,'' he said, his smile widening as he saw Leo's gaze fixate on the relic. ''Believe me, this 'basic' understanding is far superior to the diluted techniques of this current age.''
'Exactly what I was looking for,' Leo thought, though he kept his expression neutral. ''Answer me this, old man. You are clearly desperate to fulfill your duty. Why not simply use your strength to force me into this trial?''
Valerius let out a soft, dry chuckle. ''You are a cynical soul, aren't you? As a knight who served under my queen, I am forbidden from raising my hand against those beneath me.''
''A matter of pride?'' Leo asked.
''A matter of principle,'' the old demon replied, a look of longing crossing his withered face. ''My queen always taught us that if one must exercise strength, they should seek a challenge from the strong. To torment the weak is the mark of a coward.''
'I like the sound of her already,' Leo thought, nodding slightly. ''Alright. Explain the trial.''
''It is simple in theory, yet devastating in practice. You must endure a mere sliver of my queen's authority for a single second,'' Valerius said, his voice trembling slightly. ''But be warned. Though it is but a fraction of a moment, if your willpower falters, the mental collapse will be absolute. There is no recovery from a shattered soul.''
'Authority,' Leo thought. 'Not power. Not force. The weight of being acknowledged by the world.'
The orb in Valerius's hand dissolved into a mist of pure information, swirling into Leo's chest and settling into his consciousness. The amateurish grip he had on his dagger corrected itself instinctively as centuries of combat wisdom etched themselves into his soul. He was no longer a stranger to his own blade; he could feel the balance of the steel and the perfect angle for a killing strike.
"The gift is given. Now, the debt must be paid,'' Valerius declared.
The old demon turned, his long white hair drifting in an unseen current as he lifted a ring from the altar. Leo's instincts had been screaming for that object from the second he stepped into the ruins-it was the true reason that had kept him from turning back.
The ring hovered in the frigid air between them. ''This artifact is the compass to her legacy,'' Valerius explained. ''But be warned: the instant your flesh meets the metal, I will release the authority sealed within. There is no middle ground.''
Leo exhaled and moved forward. 'I have to trust my instincts. If I cower at every challenge, I can't control my fate.'
As his fingers brushed the cold metal, Leo's body froze, turning as rigid as the dark ice behind him. His consciousness was violently uprooted, cast into a void beyond the physical realm.
Valerius watched the motionless Lord and let out a heavy sigh. ''I wonder if his soul is tempered enough to endure this.''
Malphas didn't look away from his master, his arms folded tightly. ''He is a man who would choose the grave before he would ever choose to kneel.''
In the theater of Leo's mind, the darkness peeled away to reveal a silhouette born of twilight and devastation.
A woman sat upon a broken throne of stars, her form wrapped in drifting embers of silver and black. One wing gleamed with celestial radiance, fractured and scarred. The other burned with demonic fire, held back by chains of light that dug into her flesh.
Then, she looked at him.
Leo expected an agonizing impact, but instead, he felt himself being erased.
Memories peeled away like ash in a storm.
His name blurred. His body felt distant. The sense of being someone began to thin, stretched across an infinite void.
'Who am I?
'Where… am I?'
The questions echoed without an answer.
Fragments surfaced and vanished.
Just as the last of his anchors began to slip, a single image flared in the darkness of his mind—a warm, familiar face.
An anchor.
Soft. Tired. Smiling despite everything.
"Aunt…"
The word escaped him instinctively, fragile and desperate.
The void recoiled.
Something ancient shifted.
A pressure slammed outward from Leo's core, violent and absolute. Dark crimson light erupted from his dissolving form, wrapping his fading consciousness in a shield forged not of energy- but refusal.
He finally understood the terror she represented. She was the forbidden offspring of heaven and hell, a sovereign who had clawed her way to a throne of absolute power.
The world had given her a name for the Authority she wielded: Extinction.