The corridor leading away from the Forest of Will was narrow and lined with silver-veined stone that seemed to pulse in time with Haoran's own heartbeat.
And as he and Xueli ventured deeper into the bowels of the inheritance space, the air suddenly grew heavy, thick with the metallic tang of ancient blood and the humming resonance of a thousand unsheathed blades.
And at that moment, they arrived in a colossal, circular arena.
"An arena, huh? Is the next test about combat skills?" Haoran muttered his breath.
"Most likely. Dammit, I'm bad at combat." Xueli cursed, feeling frustrated.
They stared at the arena, silent, waiting for the trial to began.
And just like that, a beat later, the silence was once again obliterated by that same subterranean, booming voice that echoed not in the air, but directly against the walls of their skulls.
"THE SECOND TRIAL: TRIAL OF COMBAT! ONLY THE VICTOR MAY CLAIM THE FRUITS OF ASCENSION!"
