The wooden steps creaked softly as Belial descended the staircase, his hand trailing absentmindedly along the banister. There was a weight in his mind, something clawing and scratching at the edges of his thoughts. The door. The barrier. That overwhelming magical pressure.
By the time he reached the last step, his crimson eyes lingered on the dining table below, his lips parting in a whisper only he could hear.
"Where… did I sense that magic pressure? And that barrier… why here?"
"—Young master, everyone is waiting."
Belial flinched slightly at the sudden voice. He turned to find Nel, the tall, stern-faced steward, bowing slightly. Despite his serious expression, Nel's movements were precise and almost overprotective, like an old hawk watching its fledgling.
"Yes, Nel," Belial replied, forcing a smile that was too calm for his age. He strode toward the table, shoulders squared like a little soldier.
As he reached his seat, Nel smoothly pulled the chair back for him. Belial sat down with practiced politeness and murmured, "Thank you."
The warm glow of the dining hall candles flickered across the long oak table. Elvira sat with their youngest daughter cradled against her arm, gently feeding her spoonfuls of mashed carrots. The baby's tiny hands smacked the spoon, making little orange splatters on Elvira's dress, who only laughed softly.
Clink.
The sound of a fork hitting a plate echoed as Azrael leaned forward, raising his brow. He pointed his fork directly at Belial.
"What's up with you?" he asked bluntly, his tone half-suspicious, half-playful.
Belial froze, fork halfway to his mouth. His brain scrambled.
Oh no. He noticed. Of course he noticed. Father's eyes are sharper than a hawk's… and scarier. Okay, Bell, think of something fast—anything but "I spent half an hour fighting a door and lost."
His lips parted, then closed. He chewed the inside of his cheek, then tried again. "I'm just… a little tired. From all the hard training you two put me through."
He forced a grin.
Azrael narrowed his eyes, then jabbed his fork toward him like a sword. "Tired, huh? A Lionheart doesn't get tired after swinging a sword a few times. When I was your age—"
Here it comes. The legendary father speech.
Belial's inner monologue screamed. Oh no, not the "when I was your age" story again. He's going to say he killed a wyvern with a stick, or ran twenty miles with no shoes, or wrestled a frostbear while blindfolded—
"When I was your age," Azrael declared proudly, "I could split a boulder in half with a single swing!"
Belial raised an eyebrow. "With… your sword?"
"No. With a stick." Azrael said it with a straight face, dead serious.
Belial stared. His mother gave him a look that screamed just nod and humor him.
So he sighed and muttered, "Of course you did, Father. Naturally."
Azrael leaned back, smug, stabbing a potato with his fork like he'd just slain a dragon.
Meanwhile, Belial slumped slightly, twirling his spoon in his soup.
One day, I'll split that barrier door in half, and then let's see you top that story, old man.
The house was silent, save for the faint crackle of torches in the hall. Everyone was deep in sleep. Everyone but Belial.
He sat cross-legged on his bed, a thick tome propped open before him. The cover shimmered faintly with runes: "On the Nature of Barriers and Their Unraveling." His crimson eyes scanned the passages, his lips moving in a whisper.
"…so if I overload the barrier's core with a surge of foreign mana, it should destabilize and collapse."
He clenched his tiny fist, a triumphant grin tugging at his lips. That's it. I just need to pour more mana into it than it can handle… simple, right?
Closing the book, he carefully slid it under his pillow. Then, rising slowly, he tiptoed to the door. His small hand pressed against the cool brass handle as he peeked out, scanning the dark hallway.
"…Coast is clear," he murmured.
He padded softly across the hall, pausing by his parents' room. A sliver of candlelight flickered through the crack under the door. Belial leaned in, listening—soft breathing, slow and even. His father's deep rumble mixed with his mother's gentler breaths. Both asleep.
"…Perfect," he whispered, easing the door shut again.
The boy crept onward until he stood once more before the great library doors. The barrier shimmered faintly against the wood, invisible to the untrained eye, but clear as day to him.
He took his stance, squaring his little shoulders. "…Here we go."
Crossing his legs, he sat before the massive door, hands resting lightly on his knees. He closed his eyes. What was I doing the moment I felt that pressure? Think, Bell, think…
Then it struck him. Of course. I was testing my elemental affinities…
He breathed deeply. A faint glow rose from within him. Fire flickered, wind whispered, water shimmered, earth rumbled. Then came more—shadows stretched, light flared, and the faint hum of something higher, something beyond, pulsed like a heartbeat.
All seven elements circled around him, small sparks dancing in the darkness of the hall. The magical pressure swelled, and there it was again—the same suffocating aura he'd felt before. It bled from the barrier, seeping out like fog.
Belial's eyes narrowed. So it really is this door. Whatever's inside… it's alive. Or it was. And it wants out.
His gaze sharpened. But how do I open it? I don't know barrier-dismantling spells yet. The book said… overload it. Drown it in mana until it cracks. Simple theory. In practice… I don't even know if my mana pool is that deep. But— He grinned. —nothing ventured, nothing gained.
He pressed his palm against the cold wood. His mana veins pulsed. A thrum echoed through his body as he released his mana in waves. His chest ached, his breath quickened. Still, he pushed more.
Then—
Fwoooom.
A pale blue glow flared beneath his hand. Strange symbols rippled across the door like water. A translucent screen unfolded in the air before him, hovering, humming faintly.
[You have been chosen.]
[System Calibration in Progress…]
[Verifying Mana Signature… Match Found.]
Belial's eyes widened. "…A… screen? Like the spell matrices in theory books… but this is… autonomous. Self-generated. A system spell?"
His mind raced. No, not a spell. I didn't cast this. This is… Pre-structured magic? No… higher than that. Self-sustaining arrays? No—!
Before he could finish the thought, the pale blue window expanded, symbols spinning like gears.
[Access Granted.]
[Initiating Trial of Inheritance.]
The world around him blurred. The cold stone floor beneath him shifted, melting into jagged rock. The candlelit hallway was gone.
Belial blinked rapidly, his breath catching.
He stood in a cavernous chamber, its walls lined with glowing runes. Chains of light hung from the ceiling, creaking faintly in the silence. The air reeked of iron and old magic.
"…What the…" he whispered, his voice echoing against the walls.
A screen pulsed before him again.
[Welcome, Heir of the Drogon Core.]
[Trial Commencing.]
Belial swallowed hard. His heart pounded in his chest, ''Dragon core'' but his lips curved into a crooked grin.
Well… looks like I broke into something way bigger than a locked library.
The path opened into a colossal chamber, its ceiling lost in shadow. Torches flared alive on their own, casting an eerie glow across the room. At its center stood a figure.
A knight.
But not like any Belial had ever seen.
The armor was pitch-black, forged with jagged edges as if it had been hammered out of shadow itself. Crimson cracks glowed faintly across the plating, pulsing like veins. The helmet was carved into a faceless maw, its visor burning with two blood-red lights. In its hand, it gripped a sword—longer than Belial was tall, jagged, and dripping with black mist.
The moment Belial entered, the knight's head snapped toward him.
The screen appeared:
[Dungeon Guardian: Abyssal Black Knight]
[Level: ???]
[Objective: Defeat or Die.]
Belial's throat went dry. "…That's not ominous at all."
The knight took one heavy step forward—THOOM—the ground cracked beneath its weight.
Okay Bell… don't panic. Think. Big sword. Heavy armor. Slow… I hope.
The knight charged. Faster than Belial expected.
"Wha—!?"
The massive blade came down. Belial rolled, the impact splitting the ground where he had stood. Dust and shards flew.
He scrambled up, sweat dripping down his forehead. That thing's strength… if I take one hit, I'm dead.
He raised his hand, summoning a fireball, and hurled it.
BOOM!
The explosion burst against the knight's chest, fire licking across the black plates. Smoke rose—
But when the flames cleared, the knight stood unharmed. Not a scratch.
"…Oh come on! That was a solid hit!"
The knight swung again. Belial brought up his wooden sword by instinct. The clash shattered it instantly, the force throwing him across the chamber. He slammed into the wall, coughing blood.
"Ghhaahh!"
The knight advanced again, relentless.
I can't brute force this… the fireball is useless. Think, Bell! He bit his lip, pushing himself up. Barriers! Maybe earth—
He slammed his palm down. "Earth Wall!"
Stone rose between them, forming a thick barrier—
CRRRSHHHHH!
The black sword tore straight through it like paper. Belial barely dodged again, the edge grazing his arm and leaving a burning wound.
He staggered back, clutching his bleeding arm, panting. "Damn it… too strong. This thing isn't a training dummy—it's a monster wearing armor."
The knight raised its blade again, and the screen flickered in Belial's vision.
[Warning: Survival Rate – 3%]
[Adaptive Evolution Initiated.]
[Skill Fusion Unlocked.]
Belial's eyes widened as mana surged inside him, his seven affinities swirling violently. Fire sparked. Wind howled. Water rippled. Earth trembled. Lightning crackled. Light and shadow tangled together.
The knight lunged.
Belial screamed, thrusting his hand forward—
"Elemental Convergence!"
A surge of raw, unstable magic burst outward. Fire and wind twined into a blazing cyclone, earth hardened it, lightning streaked across it, water vaporized into steam that seared the air, light and shadow pulsed at its core.
The spell crashed into the knight—
KAAA-BOOOOOOM!!!
The entire chamber shook. The black knight was thrown back, armor cracking along its chest where the blast had struck.
Belial fell to one knee, gasping, his body trembling. "Hahhh… hahhh… that… that worked!?"
The knight rose slowly, its crimson cracks now glowing brighter. It let out a deep, distorted roar, shaking the chamber.
Belial's heart pounded in his chest. Sweat dripped down his face.
That… that was only enough to crack it. One more hit like that and I'm dead. But… I can do this. I can!
He staggered to his feet, mana swirling violently around him, his crimson eyes glowing in the dim light.
"…Alright, you oversized tin can… let's dance."