I had no idea how long I had been repeating the same process. Every time I woke, the moon was shining through, and by watching its movement, I could tell days were passing, though I couldn't determine how many.

I had almost fully refined my heart, turning it completely white. Just one more time, I thought. Just one more, and it will be over. I consoled myself as I started reinforcing it again, the slow increase of pressure in my veins now feeling all too familiar, like an old friend. Eventually, my heart became fully white—and then, once again, I burst apart.

I woke up and hurriedly scanned myself. The realization that my heart was now entirely white brought sweet relief as I let out a long sigh. I could feel a faint power coursing through me. Instinctively, I raised my hand and tried to channel that power to my fingers. I felt like I could create anything, so I formed a stream of light from my fingertip. But as soon as it materialized, it began absorbing essence from my body at an alarming rate. My heart thumped a few times before it burst open, unable to supply the needed essence. The familiar pain tore through me again, though it caught me off guard this time. The light vanished as quickly as it appeared, and the agonizing truth hit me: a white heart was not enough to support the use of my power.

I waited as my heart reformed once again, the process now familiar but faster this time.

Once my heart was back, I began the painful task of reinforcing it. This time, I noticed a silver speck forming on its surface, and, like before, I burst apart as if on cue.

I woke and repeated the process. Again. And again. And again. If not for watching my heart slowly gain more silver specks, I might have believed I was trapped in an endless illusion or a loop that would go on forever.

Then it happened—after countless repetitions, my heart finally became silver.

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I took a moment to examine my entire body before trying anything. That's when I realized that my veins were now white, adorned with tiny silver specks of light.

So that's how it was—they had been growing sturdier each time. They absorbed essence with every burst and reformation under the moonlight, making them a little stronger with each cycle.

I stood up, feeling rejuvenated, like I was inhabiting a new body. This time, I raised my hands with a surge of confidence.

Closing my eyes, I felt the power flowing through me. I drew a small portion of it, guiding it to my fingers. When I opened my eyes, a pure silver staff formed in my hands. My heart accelerated, pumping essence through my veins to sustain it. Everything seemed stable until I felt a weight on my head. I let the staff dissipate and touched my head, finding two thick spikes protruding outward, smooth as jade.

My eyes widened. What the hell? Did I just grow freaking horns?

A knock came at the door, and Vasen's voice followed.

"The Head said it's over. Are you awake now?" he asked.

"Yes, come in," I said, watching as the doors opened.

The sight that greeted Vasen was the silver blood coating the platform and the marble below, everything drenched in it, even reaching the doors. He looked to the center and saw a man standing there—lean, muscular, with silver hair cascading past his shoulders. His gaze traveled upward, noticing two curved horns adorning the man's head like a natural crown, sweeping slightly back. His pupils were entirely silver, and his body was covered in silver blood as he stood there, stark naked.

This was no longer the young boy who had entered the trial. He was now a fully matured man, somewhere in his mid to late twenties by human standards.

"I'll fetch you some clothes," Vasen said. But before he could leave, the man walked past him, heading down the hallway.

"Why hide the body I so painstakingly perfected?" he said, a hint of madness gleaming in his eyes as he smiled.

"Every king needs a bit of madness," Vasen recalled the Head's words as he followed after him.

"How long has it been?" the naked man asked, leaving a trail of silver in his wake.

"Three months today," Vasen replied.

"It's been a long time," he said, pausing and looking back.

"I had things to do," he added, his silver eyes gleaming.

"What things, my prince?" Vasen asked.

"Some practical lessons," he answered, a slow smile creeping across his handsome face, his eyes sending shivers down anyone's spine.