Samael felt the world toss and turn. It was as though he was thrown into a rotating room as he drowned endlessly.

He felt breathless, unsure, and scattered. Where was he? What was happening? Where was he headed?

Everything felt shattered, fractured, and broken. There was no pain, no time, and no reality. Perhaps he was just confused.

Then Samael felt himself fall.

Samael's eyes flew open as his arm shot forward, greeting the ground with a reckoning explosion that sent chunks of earth flying in the air.

Feeling the ache in his arm, Samael knew it was over.

It seemed to have worked, he thought, his eyes drooping as he felt fatigue pester his body. Consuming him without mercy.

His legs felt soft, his hands had no grip, and his consciousness was dim. His breathing was shallow, and he just wanted to rest. To let all his worry go in the embrace of sleep.

Gritting his teeth, Samael's grunt reverberated as he struggled to raise himself up, his limbs shaking in agony as a sharp pain assaulted him.

After the grueling seconds passed and the dust settled, Samael saw the scenery before him, and his breath halted.

image [https://i.ibb.co/D7DNC3b/desolate-wasteland-lonely-destruction-tall-tower-in-the-distance-with-a-storm-above-fantasy-oth-8164.jpg]

There he sat in a barren field, expanding far and wide. In the distance were towering structures with dark clouds hovering above.

The streaks of lightning left incandescent gashes in the sky, alongside the rumbling of thunder whispering in the distance.

The earth was crimson brown, as though blood had long drenched it and painted it in its colors.

The skies were dark, and the smell of the air was stale and dry. The wind was cold, accompanied by unyielding silence.

It was simply... Abandoned.

Just where am I—?

BLERGH!

Samael grasped the brittle earth as blood spewed out of his lips, trailing down the ground and pooling before him, showing his ragged reflection and staining his hands red.

A sharp pang of pain wreaked havoc in his body, further dulling his senses as he watched his reflection.

This... Samael thought as he assessed his body.

It seems he was far more affected by his previous clash. It had turned his insides into a mess and nearly left his reserves dry.

Just how was he supposed to survive in this damned place in such conditions? Was it even possible?

Samael closed his eyes as he clenched his jaw, his hand grasping his ruby-red necklace as he gathered his resolve.

Now is not the time to falter, he thought as he sharply inhaled.

He did not know the difference between his world and this place. He also had no idea what dangers lurked in the depths of this place or what horrors awaited him.

But that just made Samael's will to survive all the stronger. Coupled with the rage he felt from the betrayal and his frustration, he knew for a fact that he would get out of here.

I will live and leave this place alive, and when I do...

"I'll disintegrate their bodies to the ground."

***

"YOU IMBECILE!" Portugal roared in pure rage as his fist struck down Seth, slamming his face down the ground.

Portugal grabbed the man by the collar, dragging him up as he gave him a heavy strike in his abdomen, forcing him back down in a coughing frenzy.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE AS I SAID!" Portugal bellowed as he slammed his boot straight in Seth's face, sending him barreling back against the wall.

"Now look what you've done!" Portugal said, his face contorted in rage as he sent another kick through Seth's stomach.

Seth screamed in agony as he lay in a fetal position, not daring to even look at Portugal's destructive stupor.

He knew he messed up. Now he was paying the price. He was lucky that Portugal did not have the authority to execute him on the spot.

"ARGHHH!" Portugal roared as he punched the wall, marring its surface with cracks as he paced back towards Seth.

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"You better pray he doesn't come back alive. Because if he does, damned be the rules, and I'll feed you to the wolves myself," Portugal threatened in a hushed tone.

"Get up, you fucking disgrace," he said as he rose up, storming out of the building with heavy steps.

The other Leisco knights remained silent for the duration of Portugal's wrath. They simply watched from the sidelines as Seth got the beating of his life.

Once their leader had left, the other Liesco knights approached Portugal, staring at him with contempt in their eyes. After all, he nearly got everyone involved.

"You should've killed him when you had the chance," Mia said.

"This is all your fault," David chimed in.

"Dumbass," Quich added as he spat on Seth's face.

After that, they all left the room, leaving Seth to himself.

The man couldn't help but grind his teeth as he felt his anger boil.

How dare they put him in such a pitiful state? They weren't so different from him. They were all lapdogs of the Ministry.

Seth's nails dug on the floor, producing a horrid screeching sound as he dragged it repeatedly, staining it red.

Back outside, Portugal held a blue crystal with engravings on its surface. It glew for a moment before haze surrounded him and a figure took shape in its thinning smoke.

Portugal kneeled down as he greeted the person with reverence and utmost respect.

"Greetings, master," he said.

"...Why have you called me?" The man asked, his voice old and raspy.

Portugal opened his mouth, yet no sounds came out as he measured his next words carefully.

"I... I have come to report bad news," Portugal said.

A dreadful pressure befell him, nearly forcing him to splatter down the ground.

"You called me to report bad news?" The man asked as he inched towards the Liesco Knights leader.

"Have you gone mad?" he resumed as he towered before Portugal.

"M—mercy master...!" Portugal struggled to utter.

The intense pressure swiftly vanished into thin air, as though it were not there mere moments ago.

Portugal hungered for air, yet he refrained from doing so as he quickly kneeled up, his forehead touching the ground.

Cold sweat trickled down his forehead, some drenching his back as he awaited his master's response.

"Speak." The man commanded with authority.

Portugal raised his head as he spoke. "Master—"

"Who said you could raise your head?" The man said.

Portugal flinched as he slammed his head back down, a searing pain caressing his forehead.

"Now, speak and don't waste my time," the man said.

"One of my squad members has committed a grave sin," Portugal said without another thought.

The man remained motionless as he spoke. "Elaborate."

"He allowed Samael, the grim hound, to escape to an unknown portal," Portugal said.

Another wave of intense pressure nearly crippled Portugal as the man before him spoke, his tone heavy and distorted.

"You allowed him to escape...?" the man asked.

Portugal closed his eyes as he awaited his verdict, his mind silently cursing Seth, who caused all this mess.

However, the pressure soon retracted as the man spoke.

"You mentioned a portal. What did it look like?" The man asked.

Portugal's brows rose, but he answered with the utmost diligence.

"The portal looked like the scenery before me had shattered into pieces of glass, then Samael was no more," Portugal explained in great detail.

"Shattered glass...? Then he has undergone that," the man mentioned.

"Master, do you mean...?" Portugal asked.

"Yes, he has undergone a trial," the man confirmed.

"You are lucky this time, disciple," the man said.

"Trials are no easy challenges. Seeing how he was forced to use it to escape, he must have been cornered and injured. Now you can only pray he dies there. Or our plan might just be foiled," the man said.

"Punish your men, disciple. Should this happen again, I will show no more mercy," he warned before his figure crumbled into smoke, leaving nothing behind.

Portugal released a deep breath as he rose up, dusting himself before he tucked away the blue crystal.

They were lucky that Samael had gone to a trial. If not, then Seth wouldn't be the only one in trouble.

Unfortunately, they cannot do anything at the moment. Samael's outcome was up to fate. On the other hand, they did not have to worry about covering up his disappearance, considering he never really revealed he was alive to anyone.

They just had to keep silent. Properly this time.

However, Portugal did have another problem at hand.

The saint.

Ajax's presence was an unprecedented event. He managed to nearly screw up their plans, so they had to relocate near Stellaris to better gather information.

But it seems that man has influenced the minds of the higher-ups and is now making them believe an all-out attack will change the course of the invasion.

"Fools they are," Portugal said.

The moment they prepared their armies, they'd fallen for their traps. Without Samael's information, they were lambs in a slaughter.

Sure, Ajax may survive for a while, but the creature residing in the center of that fortress was an existence that could match the saint. Paired with the overwhelming numbers of wolves and hybrids, even Ajax won't stand a chance.

All was starting to mend. They just need to be patient. Waiting is their virtue, after all.

***

Back on the trial grounds.

Samael found himself limping his way forward as he left footprints on the reddish earth.

Upon checking the codex, Samael saw no information regarding the place or his mission there. All he knew was that time here was far slower in comparison to his real world.

Perhaps that's what makes trials so difficult. The unknown.

But the unknown was his friend.

Right now, his main mission is to find shelter and stabilize his condition. There was no way he would survive an encounter with an abomination with a shattered arm and internal bleeding.

If it weren't for his evolution [Organ Augmentation] and [Flow], he might just be dead by now.

Without much essence left, Samael could only use what little remains to temporarily stop the bleeding.

Now, survival was a must.

As Samael carried on, the more he felt the cold caress his skin. Not only that, but the sky was dimming as the seconds waged on.

It was only a matter of time until nightfall befell these cursed lands.

Steeling his resolve and steadfastly braving the pain, Samael urged on. Closing the distance little by little without stopping.

Eventually, he found himself in a hole hidden under layers of shattered pillars frozen in time.

Judging by the amount of dust and earth gathering on its surface, Samael was fairly sure it had been years since anyone had set foot here.

Just where am I? He couldn't help but wonder.

The place was too barren. There were no signs of plant life, and he has yet to witness any animals roaming about.

There was only dead earth and ruins scattered around. Some resembled towns, while others were structures such as bridges.

What caused the collapse of these places?

There was also that tower in the distance. It was large and tall, reaching over the clouds where lightning and storms gathered.

There were no signs that the storm was subsiding at all. It had not weakened even once and remained strong and fiery.

What lies in that tower?

Whatever it was, Samael felt a faint call to him. A connection, you may say. As though something of importance he lost long ago was yearning for him. Luring him.

Samael tried to ignore it, but the more he did, the stronger it became.

Because of that, Samael believes his objective was that tower. But it was far. Too far.

How will he make it that far in such a state? Will he even survive? What would he eat? Drink? Was there any shelter he could use?

Samael was full of uncertainty.

But he will do what he must.