Avalon was the first of the remaining hunters to sense something was wrong. A faint vibration ran along the wall, followed by a warm breath of air against his face. Then, with a loud thud, the door slammed shut. Most of the squad, including the captain and blood mages, were now trapped inside the mirrored room.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. Avalon’s hands grew clammy as fear crept in, but he didn’t question Imber’s decision—he never had. Imber’s instincts, unshakable composure, and fierce determination to protect every member of his team made him a true leader in Avalon’s eyes.

With Maxat out of contact, the most experienced hunter had become the de facto captain. But it wasn’t the kind of promotion anyone wanted. Losing both their commander and a blood mage left them vulnerable to dangers far beyond what ordinary hunters could handle. While many traps from earlier descents had been cleared and the routes were familiar, this sector remained uncharted.

“Check it out,” the senior warrior said, nodding toward Avalon and gesturing to the sealed door. They had no idea what was happening inside, but nothing good ever came from a blocked passage.

If there were any traps, they remained untriggered.

“Should we follow the order?” one of the warriors asked the acting leader.

“Yes. We wait. No one knows what’s happening in there,” he replied, frowning. “Let’s not do anything reckless.”

Avalon pressed his hand against the door and held his breath. He didn’t expect any sound to escape the steel barrier, but his instincts told him he’d feel something if the situation worsened on the other side. At least, that’s what he told himself to stay calm.

He was right. First, a rhythmic ringing reached him, followed by the steel vibrating under his palm.

“They’re trying to break through!” Avalon shouted, his voice rising as he jumped back from the door.

Before their eyes, the steel bulged, bubbled, and finally burst. A small breach appeared, releasing a cacophony of sounds mixed with the bitter stench of burning.

The calm of the tunnel contrasted sharply with the chaos erupting inside the hall.

“Help them!” the senior warrior barked, taking charge. He flipped his battle axe around and jammed the handle into the smoldering gap, roaring as he threw his weight against the panel. More hands quickly joined in, but the door held fast.

Above them, a warning light flared, bathing their flushed faces in crimson. A line of runes flashed across the door, trying to convey something—but without a mentat to decipher it, the message was lost. The runes shimmered, disappeared, then reappeared, cycling with slight variations each time.

Bracing his foot, Avalon yanked an iron rod from the breach and leaned forward, shouting: “Hey! The runes are changing! Do you hear me? They’re changing!”

A voice from inside responded, “What do they say?”

“I don’t know! But whatever you’re doing, it’s changing the rules!”

***

The captain winced as he straightened up.

“This is a trial we can’t overcome,” Ide muttered, her voice barely audible. How could they solve a problem when they didn’t even understand the conditions? “We’re lucky as it is—at least someone will be left to report to the Council.”

Despite his injuries, Maxat suddenly grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard enough to make her head snap back. “Pull yourself together! Don’t you dare give up! Think!” he snarled.

Furious, Ide’s eyes flashed dangerously. She hissed, throwing his hands off. “Before I kill that brat I’ll kill you! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be stuck here!”

Maxat’s expression shifted, and his gaze flicked toward Tilek. “That’s it! His method could work.”

Ide’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? You can’t be serious… No, snake. You could drain everyone dry, and still wouldn’t break through that door fast enough!” She instinctively backed up until her back hit the wall, her expression daring him: Just try it.

“I know that. But the girl,” Maxat nodded toward Suri, “can buy us time.” He advanced on Ide, slow and relentless. “Don’t be afraid.”

A wave of suppression washed over Ide, freezing her in place. There was no chance to dodge or fight back. Maxat placed his palm over her eyes, and the world plunged into blissful darkness, cutting her off from the deadly threat gathering above them.

Her energy, drained by Maxat’s influence, seeped from her body into his. The reckless courage Ide usually wielded in the face of adversity vanished, leaving her braced for inevitable pain.

But instead of pain, something brushed her cheek—an almost imperceptible warmth, like a soft breath.

“Ide.” He didn’t call her name—he kissed it.

Maxat staggered back, severing the connection. He had taken just as much as his foolish heart would allow.

Ide never took her eyes off him, her thoughts mirroring the chaos reigning in the hall.

“Captain! Your hand!” a hunter shouted.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ide cut in sharply, redirecting their attention. “Search the area. Check the walls for weaknesses. Look for runes.” He might have taken some of her strength, but he had restored her courage.

***

There was no other way to bypass the trial. Maxat staggered toward Tilek, his steps unsteady, his vision blurred by a creeping black haze. He shook his hand, but the persistent tingling wouldn’t go away. Slowly but surely, his blood was turning silver.

“It’s time to shine,” Maxat rasped as he drew close enough for his voice to carry through the chaos.

Tilek, lost in his thoughts, didn’t respond. He seemed almost exhilarated by the thickening scent of death in the air.

The beams of death ripened and crashed down. More than half struck the walls, while the rest splintered against the barrier, mingling with sparks from the ceiling. Tilek tilted his head back, baring his teeth in frustration, letting the shimmering rain fall over his pale face. No one had been harmed this time, and to him, the scene felt incomplete.

“With your power, you might survive, but what will be left of you?” Maxat sneered, shifting his gaze to what had captured Tilek’s attention. “Feed her.”

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“Do it yourself,” the mage replied, his voice a rasp.

“I’ve lost my core.”

“As have I.”

“It was never truly yours,” Maxat’s eyes darkened, heavy as lead. “You’ll do as I say.”

Tension thickened between the two mages. Each measured the other’s resolve, and nothing—not even the surrounding mess—could distract them from this ritual of dominance.

Finally, Tilek lowered his head, looking up from under his brow as he set his terms. “Stop getting in my way.”

“I don’t interfere in duels. Follow the laws, and we won’t have a problem.”

Tilek’s lip curled, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. A hiss escaped between them.

“Of course. I’ll take what’s mine,” he said, a smile creeping across his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Maxat couldn’t shake the unease—this man always seemed to relish disorder a little too much, and that darkness in his eyes was unsettling.

“Keep your word… captain.”

Maxat frowned. He’d dealt with Tilek before and knew well that the blood mage cared only for his own ambitions. Tilek had agreed too easily, too smoothly for someone who never considered others. What was driving his obsession with power? Maxat knew there would be a steep price for his decision, but time was running out.

“Even I’m not certain this will work,” Maxat muttered, eyeing Tilek’s smug expression.

“Why worry? The Judge hasn’t made his move yet. But I’ve grown tired of waiting for him.”

***

Suri had crossed the line. The moment she even considered shielding the entire squad, she had already reached her limit. She wasn’t in danger herself—she could never be one of ‘Shug’s bearers’, yet the mere thought of what would happen to the people in the hall if they were left unprotected filled her with dread. A nightmare took hold, and helplessness fed a deeper fear she hadn’t known existed within her.

Imber lifted her, trying to move her closer to the other blood mages—the safest place. It was the least he could do.

“Don’t interfere,” Suri muttered, pushing his hands away. Without his support, she swayed, grimacing in pain as she clutched her forehead, but still she didn’t stop trying to summon new shields. She heard nothing, saw nothing. Her mind was consumed by visions of scenes and scents she had never known before, drawing her further into another reality.

“Stop! You’re burning yourself out!” Imber yelled, his composure slipping. He was driven by only one thing—protecting his sister and Suri. He reached for her again, but the Judge intervened this time.

“Let her continue,” the Judge ordered. His cold, analytical gaze remained fixed on Suri’s pale face, searching for something in her clouded eyes. When he found it, greed flickered across his expression.

“Rot,” Cassia cursed, even jumping in frustration. “She’ll die if this keeps up!” Like her brother, she couldn’t stand by any longer. She lunged toward the Judge, her body shaking with the need to protect her friend.

But the Judge’s icy stare froze Cassia in her tracks. His aura crawled under her skin, making her instincts scream that she wouldn’t survive if she pressed forward. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as she halted. When Imber stepped forward, the Judge’s focus shifted back to the blood mage he was so intent on.

“At least someone’s enjoying themselves,” Maxat muttered. “The Judge is right. Nothing changes. You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?”

Imber sighed, grim but resigned. “The beams are slowing. Their impact is weaker, and the intervals between attacks are longer.”

“So it wasn’t just me.” Maxat’s suspicions were confirmed, and for once, he didn’t need to convince anyone. “Our little sister can’t take down her miracle dome.”

“I was hoping the door could be opened from the other side. But since you’re here… what’s the plan?” Imber added. It was impossible to know how much longer the trial would last or how much energy the system had left.

Maxat waved his hand, and another figure joined them. Imber’s expression darkened, his hand tightening on his blade’s hilt. Cassia, acting on instinct, rushed forward, her composure cracking. As long as this monster kept his distance, she could pretend to tolerate his presence. But she and her brother never let their guard down around him.

“Feisty creature,” Tilek rasped with a laugh that sent shivers down Cassia’s spine. Her legs felt as though they were sinking into a thick, warm swamp.

Imber clapped her on the back, snapping her out of it.

“Calm down, little one. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Maxat waved her off, then approached Suri. “You look worse than I do,” he rasped. “We’re not going anywhere like this. You need a recharge, but I’m not the one for that job. You’ll have to bear with him.”

Tilek followed the senior blood mage, but the Judge wasn’t about to let him move freely. His blade flashed from its sheath, slicing the air in front of Tilek. Tilek dodged, but his hood slipped from his head. A thin cut appeared on his brow, blood trickling into his eye.

“Ha,” Tilek laughed, wiping the blood from his eye. “So much for your precious neutrality.”

“You won’t have time to regret it,” the Judge said, his words cold as a death sentence.

Tilek’s smile faded. He hadn’t dodged—he had been allowed to dodge. And one of the most powerful blood mages couldn’t even measure the distance between their abilities.

“Right now, she’s making things easier for me. Why would I dig my own grave? I’m not a fool. And since you’re unwilling to help, she has no other choice.” Tilek raised his hands, palms open, signaling he had no hidden weapons or motives.

“Afraid of the Judge?” Maxat sneered, urging Tilek to get on with it. He placed his hand on Suri’s shoulder and released his suppression. The force exploded outward, knocking several hunters off balance before condensing into a deep purplish-violet glow around him and the girl.

Tilek whistled. “Well, captain, you’ve been training.”

“Shut up and get to work,” Maxat barked, sweat streaming down his face. “She may be small, but she’s got quite the appetite.”

“Really?” Tilek’s eyes gleamed as he unleashed his emerald-green aura, quicker and more precise than the captain, though not as vibrant. Their powers connected but didn’t merge. The energy, born from their cores, complemented each other before flowing into Suri’s body.

Maxat frowned. “Where’s her core?”

“Well, isn’t that interesting,” Tilek licked his lips. “If even you can’t sense it. How many cores does she have?”

“Can you take this seriously? Your life’s on the line too,” Maxat growled, breaking into a fit of coughing.

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t repeat my mistakes.”

Tilek’s response was lost in the sound of Maxat’s violent coughing.

***

A warm wave surged through Suri’s body. Power flowed into her from outside, and her “Shield” unfurled in a perfect arc above her, just in time to block the next attack.

Blinding white beams slammed into the dense dome and shattered into pieces. Suri exhaled, relieved. “The system is damaged. There might already be an emergency countdown active somewhere,” she thought. “It seems the golem ran into something far stronger than expected.”

Her senses were overwhelmed by a mix of scents. Maxat’s power smelled like aged wine—rich, intoxicating, and heady. But mixed with it was a sour, rancid note, like wine tainted by poison.

“Tilek,” Suri realized immediately. How could she not recognize the power that had hunted her throughout the descent?

But now, that power wasn’t directed at her.

“What are you doing?” Maxat spat blood, fury blazing in his eyes as he turned to Tilek.

His energy was being completely absorbed by Suri, and control of that absorption rested with the one who created the technique—the one Maxat had foolishly trusted.

Tilek smiled, savoring the moment. “I haven’t strayed from the plan. Your people are safe.” A shadowy figure stretched out from Tilek, vaguely human in shape. In an instant, something sharp pierced through Maxat’s chest. He screamed, unable to dodge without hurting himself—and Suri.

“It’s time,” Tilek purred, drawing out each word.

Maxat’s suppression wavered, affecting Suri. Along with his energy, she shared his pain. In a moment, she died and was reborn over and over. Her head snapped back, and a scream of pure agony tore from her throat.

Tilek had been too confident. He believed that as long as the girl’s barrier held, he was untouchable. But he had interfered with plans far greater than his own.

The hand he extended toward Suri ignited. Confusion twisted his face—he hadn’t sensed the danger until it was too late. Howling, he jerked his hand back, however the fire spread, consuming him in seconds. With one final gasp, Tilek was gone—no ashes, no trace, no power.

The fire that had swallowed him flickered and disappeared, leaving only the faintest wisp of smoke curling through the air where he had stood.

Suri crumpled to the ground. The sharp scent of scorched air lingered, but Tilek’s fate concerned her the least. Her “Shield” crumbled, and the weight of her own exhaustion crashed down on her. Something inside her snapped; it felt sharper, more focused—clarity. Fragmented memories began to merge, forming a picture.

Golden fire seared her face. The mirrored hall was engulfed in flames, turning into an inferno. The fire consumed the golem and the glowing stars overhead. And at the center of the raging storm stood the Judge.

Suri closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her gaze had changed. It no longer belonged to a naïve, young blood mage. Her uncertainty and softness had vanished, replaced by a cold, unyielding resolve. Looking up at the man with the golden eyes, she cursed every second of his existence.

The Judge’s impassive mask cracked, his lips curling into a smile that rekindled long-lost emotions on his face.

“Finally.”