The world turned grim and cold. Dozen of Spectral Hands shot forward, but they weren't as quick as one would guess. Moving like a sweep of the hand, each was quite large to provide strength rather than speed.

Allan stopped on the spot, feeling the sudden disturbance, and something else... Something terrifying clutched his heart. A pressuring feeling that wanted to Rule out some form of betrayal or discontent with the Oath.

He didn't know it though, which was perhaps his blessing of ignorance.

The woman glared at him, feeling that an Oath would do the job, but she liked to get her hands dirty. It always felt good.

Allan clutched his chest, feeling an immense pain that felt as if the volcano emerged within his heart.

It wasn't wrong nor a right statement, since his heart was home to unlikely being that won't let its home down. In, and even outside of it, Soul Fire had enough of this bullshit Oath that tried to use a basic soul locking mechanism along with the heavenly oath.

Angry, it pulled some of its essences forward, forming two tiny fiery hands that grasped the chains. Searing them to specks of matter that dissipated to nothingness, the Soul Fire seemed to laugh, or sneer at this unfit challenger for itself.

At that moment, Allan felt a strange clarity, and a surge of heat within him engulf his mind. The pain disappeared, and tingling sensible sounds echoed in his ears.

It spoke of danger and a terrible one.

Swoosh!

The Spectral Hands flew forwards, reaching his position in a straight line. Yet, they didn't hit him as they should, moving through the emptied air since Allan was down below, kneeling.

It was a simple motion, but it saved his life. The first hand almost traveled through his neck, killing him.

He turned, and jumped, twisting his body to the unnatural limit, while dodging 2 additional Spectral Hands in his diagonal twisting jump. They aimed for his hips or ribs this time around, but once again, they missed. Within that moment, he held unclear clarity, as if he knew everything that was happening.

He heard thuds, swirling motions of something cleaving the air and his heartbeat the most.

Feeling them, he didn't even know how he acted. He felt the urge to follow his hunch or this whispering intent.

At that moment, he reached a state of seeming perfection, yet it was far away from the true state of intent, or Dao itself. Within his turning, mi-air turn, his left hand went to his pocket, picking up a multilayered knife.

Another 2 Spectral Hands pushed towards him, yet he changed his horizontal position in mid-air by a twist of his hips and legs. Turning around to do a quick 360 along with a changed trajectory, allowed him to dodge those hands that seemed alive, almost hitting him with a changed trajectory.

At the end of this turn, his knife left his hand, flying away into the distant thuds. Then, he was in an unfavorable position, as 2 Hands were pushed to his back, while another one came to his face, hitting him so hard, he felt like a mental patient.

Yet, none of the Spectral Hands reached out for that knife. Be it because of a woman's unawareness, or simply because she couldn't bother wiht it.

Allan neither flew away nor collapsed. 3 heavy blows hit him into his core spots. Two on his back, jolting his body with a couple of slashing wounds. They were deeper than the wound on his neck, but they sizzled and will close in a couple of seconds. The last, hit his head, turning it into a strange angle, but didn't crack the spine, albeit barely.

His upper body was fine, but his own feelings no longer mattered, since the flying knife found its target. A heart of this ashen, crazed, and shameless woman.

Thud.

A slight sliver of pain appeared on her face. She still stood loftily, smirking and using her scarcely returning energy and control of her Core. Yet, her chest was open for all eyes to see, making it prone to even bee stings or regular bird pokes.

A distinct jolt stopped her from following forms of Spectral Hands under her Immortal Arts. She kept looking forward as if the knife wasn't noticed or important, but something changed, making her shudder in a cold sweat.

“Huh? What is this?” she uttered, breathlessly jolting her head to see her chest. The knife, along with more blood. It was there, albeit barely reaching half of its length inside. Blood dripped, coloring the already bloody floor in crimson.

It wasn't a life-threatening injury, since she already got one gushing wound from that candle, but that didn't mean she can't feel the pain.

Getting the urge to let it go, she stopped herself and glanced up to see the uncontrollable state of her Immortal Arts. It was too late since the wounds that she caused to Allan weren't something he found as bad as that time when he died for real.

A moment after the knife hit the target, he stumbled to the ground, painfully feeling the ground with his face.

Then, he heard her words and ticking blood on the ground. It wasn't his, but hers. He knew the differences since his blood stays inside of him.

Allan forced his trembling head and neck upwards, feeling the heat and adrenaline inside of him rising. Pushing himself up, he imagined the floating heart, dripping blood, and echoes that traveled to his ears.

It was right there, and no swinging things traveled around the air. So, he stepped forward, pushing wiht his legs to get closer to the origin of this sound. He appeared before her quicker than she noticed, thrusting the remains of his staff into her heart.

Blood rolled splashing to his hands, and ground, causing her to utter a huffed groan. The tip of the staff went right towards the knife, leaving its tip shot from the other side of her body along with a bloody mess.

Right.

The knife penetrated all the way through her cavity, while instead of the heart that followed the knife to the ground, the staff was in her chest.

The decreasing beat of the still-living heart dulled, disappearing a couple of meters away.

With the staff in her chest, the woman struggled for a moment, trying to grasp Allan's neck, head, or something. Her eyes turned crazed in chaos, but she was breathless, reaching her end by falling to her back. Blood scattered everywhere, while Allan let go of his staff. It was no longer a staff anyway, so she can keep it, or so he thought to comment, but he wasn't feeling happy, or satisfied.

He jsut killed another bloody murderer that wanted him dead. It was no fun or a sign to remember or cheer for. He hated it more than anything else, but he can't change it, right? This will be his path if he wants to change his fate for a better future.

“Oh god...” Allan mumbled, barely feeling alright in his head. This moist thud felt disgusting, and the blood and everything on his hands... It wasn't a good feeling. “Did I gamble with my life, or was this all stupid to begin wiht?” Allan questioned himself out loud, struggling on his feet as well.

It was because of his mental exhaustion and body that wasn't fine since adrenaline made sure he was yet to feel it. 1 swing and 1 thrust were one step between life and death and solved everything, but it was a far cry from making him at ease.

In fact, everything was one stupid mistake, since all Allan had to do, was ignore her, or kill her without accepting some strange sounding Oath.

It was his mistake. The one that almost cost his life.

“Is this how it all ends? Lifeless body with crazed sounds and unreasonable thoughts? Sounds unpleasant.” He muttered, collapsing to the side wall. The side of the hall provided a good spot, while he was neither far, nor close to this bloody mess.

Yet, Allan was still nervous. Thuds still echoed, while splurging blood and huffing noises were making him uncomfortable.

“Which...” a hard-to-understand word came from blood coughing mouth of the still-living woman.

“Still alive? Immortals are really tough, aren't they?” Allan said, feeling light in mind, yet unsteady with everything else. He needed to calm down, while the heat worked with the rest.

“Tho you argh?” this time, much more serious words sounded, asking a question with the hoarse language of the mortal realm.

This one, in particular, was her gamble.

Right from the beginning, the language she was speaking was her gable, and not something stranger, loftier. It was indicating either her intent, or plot, or it was also her mother's language. It was hard to point that out, but one thing made it clear. Allan didn't know much of anything, so plotting against him was easy as stealing candy.

Such a reason for almost imminent death was quite a huge deal. It would be later, that Allan would find the reason for today's close call.

“Just a mortal. Like you, yet you are an Immortal? This... I didn't want to kill you. You took this upon yourself, you lunatic. Don't blame me for this. Blame yourself.” Allan said, his mouth contorted in pain and unwilling reasons he didn't want to say.

“Liar...” she replied, coughing more blood afterward. By this point, she can't move a finger, nor use her Immortal Arts. “There whill.. be othrs... like mhe...” she uttered her last words as her jaw became loose.

The crazed woman who almost caused the death of both, Allan and 36 died at Allan's hands.

“I will kill them like you if that's the case but I would rather not.” Allan casually added, realizing that the thuds stopped. Also, he couldn't help but shudder inside at how calm and collected he sounded right now. Did he kill a freaking Immortal? A figure wiht energy in her fingertips, and a seemingly strange Immortal Martial art.

His heart was beating steadier during this conversion, but bloody circumstances would tell otherwise.

He couldn't help but check his chest where he found his still beating heart by placing his hand on his skin. “Good. It is still here. I am still alive.” he sighed in relief at the unmistakable mistake, gambling, and play that was unnecessary, yet he still did it.

“Right... Who am I kidding?” Allan chuckled, grasping the situation with seriousness. “An Immortal. I killed one, while she wanted to kill me too. She lied, I didn't. Ah, my nativity... Maybe I should have added more casual questions to the repertoire. She probably guessed my identity from the beginning though... I will need to be careful about any dealings within this place, or Immortals in general. 36 was right. I am too fresh and bad at this.”

Allan remained steadying his breath, feeling his heart and his beating sounds. It was a steady force, calming him among other thigns.

Couple minutes into this, he breathed away, getting to his feet before he would regret it. After all, he has a mission to do.

“Where are those steps? I have not heard them in a while?” He wondered, hearing nothing anywhere. He was yet to be aware of pair of shadowy eyes looking at him from the destroyed cell. It was no Wisher, but it did not speak either, nor Allan noticed it either. Observing was the first thing to do, it seemed.

“No hurry, no hurry.” Allan sighed, still choosing to sit down to calm down. “Time within this place is to my advantage. Although, if I would have to live years here, a lot less stuff would happen in reality. Is this how the time should work? I have no bloody clue...” he complained, imagining the stuff Sarey explained to him.

Steadying his breathing further, the unchanging steps from earlier reached his ears after 5 more minutes. They were coming from the distance, moving closer to him at a faster pace than before.

It reached his side, and this time, Allan was sure it could be an enemy, but what kind?

His mind went alert, yet he at least figured out one thing.

“There are stairs?” Allan assumed from the sounds he heard. In some sections, the steps disappeared suddenly, indicating a new place such as another floor.

“Student number 35. Follow me in the process of the Trial of the first bracket of the rewards.” the same dull voice from before talked with the same message.

“Alright. Alright. I am hearing you and will follow you.” Allan reached out with his hand, touching and patting a cold stone surface that spoke to him. He could not help but travel with his hand further and lower, reaching a better picture of this small thing.

“What is this thing?” He wondered as an image was soon within his mind.

It talked to him face to face as he was resting his upper body by the wall, so it was not big. A body with arms and legs made of stone was one thing. Other was its round head with a crystal gem object in the middle of its head. It had no human features, which Allan discovered from his touch.

This thing was a golem in the simplest form, albeit not the one that the earliest Immortals could craft. This one was still serving The Ones, so it must be unordinary like everything in this messed up place.

Incredible beings created them into fine servant creatures that would never disobey, as there was no soul within.

“It's not alive. I guess I will have to follow it if I want to continue with this, but then, what if I will meet another kind of this murderer?” Allan wondered, but before he had the choice to do so more, the golem already resumed its path to the upper floors.

Allan forced himself up, following the golem after getting back his bloodied staff which was in poor condition, but he didn't want to leave it there. Cleaning it wiht his own clothes that were less bloodied than that woman's, Allan was satisfied, even though he forced it from bloodied inside of that woman. Well, at least it wasn't stuck.

He also retrieved his flying knife which already saved him for the second time, while also being a key to the 2nd Kill. What was surprising, was finding it. It took some time, but he did it, grasping the dull heart with the blade deeply engraved into it. He could not get it out of the knife and as much as he struggled wiht it, he didn't even make a dent into this heart.

Allan couldn't help but store the knife along with this bloody thing in his pocket. He couldn't see it within himself to lose this kind of knife that was his precious memory of his reality, forging, and home. He only had a few remaining.

Reaching the golem on the stair, Allan followed the thuds of its legs, which had no feet. Stone slabs that struck the floor in hard sounds were all to these thuds.

Soon enough, Allan was following the golem behind, sometimes falling from the stairs, or clumsily taking the wrong steps. Couple minutes into quite a bad situation, Allan was over it, so he hugged the wall instead, following the golem like a suspicious lunatic.

Going up one floor after another, the golem stopped walking in couple more minutes. It was a similar hall to the one he went through on some other floors.

Allan silently made a plan within his head, while his palms remained on the walls. He noted the general structures, pictures, and even some carved statues, but he had no time to care about them at the moment. The only thing, that could be beneficial was remembering them for his travel back, perhaps.

Golem reached the already open door to a room, voiceless as he was throughout this journey.

Allan gulped down his dry saliva, feeling that he made quite a mistake in coming here.

“No... I will do it. No one else came up to me, so this is it. I swear.” he hyped himself up, and upon doing so, he walked inside, stomping the floor with his foot. The echoing sound traveled around the room, reaching his ears with some general information. This has been his training method, but it was generally +/- 3 meters wrong in most cases. This place was quite empty and humongous. No furniture was around. Just plain smooth walls, and quite a tall ceiling.

What he found surprising was his guess. The terms of the possible size of this place were quite shocking. This room was at least a hundred meters across, a few dozen meter up, and a few dozen meters wide.

“What sort of place is this? It is empty as it sounds?” Allan wondered, yet didn't dare to move past the entrance. His palms still remained on the wall, fearing that he would become lost in this space quite easily.

Yet, he had little to imagine. Golem walked away the moment its task was over, walking back to the hall, and causing the door to close on its own.

Hence, Allan was alone, feeling the silence of this big place with quite some annoyance on his face. Nothing much happened, so he let his hands go, walking forward to discover this place a bit better. He paced back and forth in hopes someone would be there or something would happen, but it was empty.

Just an empty silence in the vast room.

Some moments of disturbed silence later, the echoing voice emerged from nowhere within this room, talking in a monotone voice.

“Student number 35?” a distinctly male voice asked in a dreadful calm voice. It spoke his language, which was good.

“Yea?” Allan questionably replied, feeling unsure of what was yet to come.

“It's time for providing information about the first bracket of reward and its trial. Only you can view it and act for its sake.”

“Wait wh...” Before he could do a thing, a loud thud shot into the room, loudly echoing in this vastness which made him quite upset. It was too loud for his tastes, but it only happened 1 time.

What shot before him was a fast 2-meter-wide scroll. It folded itself right before his face, with many depictions of rules, and even brackets of these rewards in particular. 36 didn't know this, but not like Allan can do something wiht it. In fact, even if he could miraculously regain his eyes, he wouldn't be able to read a word out loud. None of these rules were in Allan's language. It was rather ironic, but Allan was obvious to it since he didn't even know what was before him.

Alas, knowing and guessing were different things, and Allan wasn't stupid.

“Providing? Hey! Can I get a spoken version of these rules or whatnot if you are giving me this information!” Allan shouted within this echoing room, voting his biggest worry.

No voice was there for almost a minute before it returned.

“Request partially accepted. The question of the reward and its trial is following, albeit not fully. The first bracket consists of forcing the student to go through the motion of catching the reward within this room. There is a time limit. Rewards will be inside a protective layer of energy, while less important ones will have less tough barriers, and the more valuable ones will be harder to break.”

“Oh, crap. Is this the thing that 36 talked about?” Allan cursed out loud. He could already imagine the issues with this thing. Catching it was one thing, seeing the treasures within it another while understanding everything was as easy for him as coming here.

“Catching. Hmmm.” Allan tried to get his head around this problem, but he couldn't come up wiht much. “Can I ask about more detailed methods of this trial?” Allan asked out loud again.

“Access granted.”

“What? Is this thing dumb? Wait... I did ask for permission for asking, so you have to be literally dumb. What a pain.” He sighed. “What are the detailed steps within this trial?” Allan asked in a form of a question. It seemed this voice was not the brightest, so it was either a bound soul to artifact, or it was dumb from the get-go.

“The steps are following. When a student starts the reward trial, the barriers within each reward will begin to float within this space. The student is allowed to try any type of attack. Ranged or melee is allowed. The time limit is 1 hour. Only 2 possible rewards can be taken from this Trial.”

“How could a student know what is inside the barrier?” Allan asked the obvious question. Unexpectedly, the voice answered it in the dumbest way possible.

“It is a rudimentary energy barrier. Seen through is its core. One way to go through this trial is to see and recognize the rewards. Knowing the values inside is also helpful unless the student is very poor. The hardness of the barrier provides an incentive for a better Trial and understanding of the students. The form of rewards for every possible student is, thus, variable, and dependant on individual's prowess and knowledge.”

“Hmph! I feel like I want to stomp the ground like Sarey....” Allan complained, pondering about what he could do at the moment.

The only method of discerning them was a simple mention of the barriers and their individually based toughness. As for what was inside, that was an impossible thing to consider. If he destroy one, and the reward would end up being bad, or something unknown, then what was he supposed to do? Doing something or anything would be equally terrible.

Allan desired some martial art regardless of 36's influence or not. But he didn't believe that any Martial art would be useful for him, so that's where lack of choice and awareness made it much more difficult.

Nothing could be helpful to him.

It seemed his stubbornness to go with this Trial got a hold of him in a bad moment, in quite an important situation. Let alone his near-death experience, he was quite disappointed in himself.

“Perhaps I was a little bit harsh. Yea... Just a pinch harsh!” Allan reassured himself and decided to ask a few last questions.

“Where and how to start this Trial? What kind of rewards are there?”

“Time is 1 hour. Students can start at any moment by walking to the very middle. Rewards are prohibited to disclose.” the voice explained, telling what it should as per the rules it had.

“Hah! Hehahah! I am doomed! Doomed...” Allan cried out loud, collapsing his knees to fall to the ground.

“If I had known more about this, I wouldn't go. Ohh no. What even happened to me? I have no weapons. The spear and glaive is gone, my knife is stuck, and stuff is broken, so what else do I have?” Allan thought out loud, clutching his head with annoyance with his both palms.

By now, he forgot about the pain or his injuries. Smoke and sizzle from his wounds disappeared quite some time ago, leaving some slight scars behind.

“Nothing... I have nothing.” Allan shook his head, leaving the remaining form of his staff before him on the ground. “I bet weapons are extremely important in this part. I could take a spear and force my way through those barriers much better. All I have is the broken half of the staff and my flying knife stuck within the heart of that crazy lady and another one. Isn't it funny? I am not laughing at all..” Allan mumbled under his nose while thinking more since he had enough time to do so.

“Alright. Let's get the points across Allan!” He slapped his thighs and took everything that he possessed in front of himself. It didn't help his mind, but for imagination, and picturing the scene in front of him, it was enough. There was a half-broken shaft, a flying knife stuck into a heart, and another flying knife that he had not used.

He also included his clothes, but nothing much appeared to be helpful. Allan wore simple trousers with a shirt. He had also that cloth to secure the spear and glaive, but those weapons weren't in his possession. In fact, he didn't even think of their disappearance all that much.

He took very little since very little could even be hopeful. The best thing that he had was his staff which was in unusable condition at the moment.

“Hmmm. How about this?” Allan muttered as he took his bandage off and wrapped the last flying knife to the destroyed part of the wooden shaft of his staff. Some wood was in the way, but nothing that craftsmen couldn't manage. The majority of the metallic reinforcements around the one edge were destroyed.

The methods it was destroyed with, were similar to the wood itself, but not like Spectral Hand care about specialties or not.

One could imagine what sort of strength was necessary to achieve such a feat of strength.

Allan held that moment, that penetrative and strong power that went through his body, in high regard. It was a lesson to be taken. A token in the same category as the helplessness he underwent in all his misfortunes.

Destroyed home, Skoll, and demolishment of his body by that scarred man, or following the madness of seeing the Underworld.

He still felt it even now.

Those attacks penetrated his shoulder with unnatural power, destroying his staff that even Zigmund never destroyed, nor cracked a little.

“I've never met such a crazed attack before but that regenerative power behind the Soul Fire solved that issue. It's my good luck, I suppose...” Allan assumed, massaging his left shoulder which was aching but not that bad. He had full control of his body, so any injuries he got, weren't as bad as he feared.

Especially that face punch he got. It scared him a little, but his neck was fine by now.

Allan didn't even consider the possibilities of Immortal proportions. He lacked the general context, nor he understood what he had done, who he killed, or who attacked his body.

That attack perhaps looked weaker than it should have because that woman was waiting for an opportunity for something else. Longs months passed here after her punishment, so her attack had obvious flaws within it.

All in all, calling her truly crazy wasn't an exaggeration.

Her attack slid through the staff, destroying it and reaching the shoulder instead of the neck which could cause vital death. So, why did the attack divert from reaching the neck itself to only scrapping it a little? That was a particular issue, which was no longer possible to answer.

Underworld may answer it, though.