Aelric stood still, his sharp eyes scanning the gathered warriors surrounding them. These people weren’t like the villagers—they weren’t shackled by fear, nor did they carry the vacant expressions of those who had surrendered to the Order’s will.

They were fighters.

Every single one of them moved with the quiet grace of lifelong warriors, their bodies honed not through desperation, but discipline. These were not people who had given up.

They had chosen to hide.

That alone told Aelric everything he needed to know.

The elders of the hidden city stood at the forefront, their presence commanding even without words. Their faces were worn, their eyes like stone—they had seen much, lost much.

But their gazes lingered on Aelric.

His voice had not carried the weight of deceit.

The people of the Order spoke with a tone that twisted truths, their words slippery, filled with the kind of certainty meant to lull others into blind obedience.

Aelric’s certainty was different.

He spoke not as someone who sought to control, but as someone who would bend the world to his will.

“You do not belong here,” one of the elders finally said. His voice was rough like old stone. “And yet, you stand before us, unshaken. You have no bloodline here, no history, no past within these walls.”

Another elder, an older woman with silver hair, stepped forward. “You are an outsider. But you are not of the Order.” Her gaze swept over them, then lingered on Aelric. “Your presence alone disrupts the balance of this place.”

Aelric smirked slightly. Good.

He wanted to disrupt things.

Veyne tensed beside him. “So what? Are you going to kill us now?”

A murmur passed through the gathered warriors, but the elders remained impassive.

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“No,” the old woman said. “We will not kill you.”

“But we also will not let you stay here without proving yourselves,” the elder man added.

The silver-haired woman nodded. “If you truly wish to learn the truth of who we are—if you seek to stand among us—you will undergo a trial. The Trial of the Unknown Goddess.”

A ripple passed through the gathered warriors at the mention of the name.

Aelric’s mind sharpened instantly.

This was it.

Aelric had spent years searching the world, uncovering scattered fragments of lost knowledge. This was the first true confirmation he had ever received.

A trial—one tied to something beyond the Order.

Something the Supreme One had not erased.

Aelric’s smirk widened. “Tell me about this trial.”

“You do not ask for details,” the elder man said. It wasn’t a question.

Aelric shrugged. “I ask for everything.”

The silver-haired woman studied him, then spoke slowly. “The Trial of the Unknown Goddess is the only path to uncovering the truth of this place. It is a test of one’s self.”

Another elder continued, “The trial will expose your true self, the depths of your ambition. There is no deception within the trial—only revelation. And if you are unworthy, if your heart and mind are not strong enough—”

“You will lose yourself,” the silver-haired woman finished. “Your identity will shatter. Your mind will not be yours anymore.”

The warriors watching remained silent, their faces unreadable.

Aelric absorbed the information, his mind already turning possibilities.

A test of the self. A battle not of strength, but of the mind.

Veyne exhaled sharply. “You’re saying that if we fail, we’ll—what? Go insane?”

“No.”

A voice cut through the air.

The girl who had fought them stepped forward.

Her gaze was steady, unreadable—but this time, she was not hostile.

“You won’t go insane,” she said. “You will cease to be you.”

Aelric turned to her, interested. “And how do you know that?”

She met his gaze evenly. “Because no one has passed the trial since our first ancestors did long ago.”

Veyne let out a low curse. “And yet, you want us to take it?”

One of the elders nodded. “This is not a test given lightly. If you fail, you will not die—but you will not walk away the same. If you are not strong enough to endure, you will never leave the trial.”

Silence followed.

“Only one of you must take the trial,” the silver-haired elder clarified.

Aelric did not hesitate.

“I’ll do it,” he said, his voice unwavering.

Veyne turned to him, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

Aelric looked at Veyne with a rare, serious expression. No words were needed. Veyne understood.

He clenched his fists, but he obeyed. “Fine,” he muttered. “But if you lose yourself in there, don’t expect me to babysit you.”

Aelric smirked. “Noted.”

The girl—Kaela—stared at him, her expression unreadable.

“You’re a fool,” she said, “if you think this trial is something you can simply beat with clever words and willpower.”

Aelric’s gaze didn’t waver. “We’ll see.”

She exhaled. “My name is Kaela,” she finally said. “Remember it, because when you lose yourself in that trial, I’ll be the one who has to kill you.”

Aelric chuckled. “That’s nice of you.”

Her expression darkened. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“Oh, I am.” Aelric’s smirk faded slightly, his eyes glinting. “I take all knowledge seriously.”

The silver-haired elder gestured toward a set of massive doors at the edge of the city ruins. They looked ancient, far older than the structures surrounding them—as though they had existed long before this hidden city was built.

“Step forward,” she said. “The trial awaits you.”

Aelric and Veyne moved toward the doors.

As they did, Aelric glanced at Kaela.

She had warned them against taking this trial.

Yet something in her expression wasn’t just warning—it was expectation.

Aelric’s smirk returned.

He was going to pass this trial.

And when he did—this city and its warriors would no longer hide.

One day, they would fight with him.

The doors opened.

He stepped inside.