Shaou didn't wait a moment longer; he lunged toward the dragon's shadow, focusing his energy into his feet. Sparks of red erupted beneath him, and a wave of volcanic fire surged around him. He struck the ground forcefully, unleashing fiery circles that expanded rapidly.
His goal was clear: to separate the dragon from the others.
He charged directly at its right head, delivering a diagonal strike that pierced its neck. A burst of fiery sparks exploded, and the left head roared, lunging to bite Shaou. Anticipating the attack, he swiftly turned and drove his sword into the second head's mouth.
The dragon recoiled, screaming, its body ablaze with internal flames.
But before Shaou could catch his breath, the warrior attacked with his axe, striking the ground and sending fiery shards flying.
Shaou blocked the blow with his sword, but the immense force pushed him back, as if gravity had turned against him.
Then came the second note from the harp—a sonic wave that disoriented the air. Shaou felt his senses blur.
The sky spun, the earth trembled, and fire mingled with sound.
Yet he shouted:
"I won't be defeated by a melody...!"
He pressed his heart, causing the tattoo to glow for the third time, releasing an internal explosion that restored his balance. He then charged at the fiery woman.
He struck her with his sword, but she turned into fiery smoke and reappeared behind him, whispering:
"But you forget... music can't be cut with a sword."
He raised his sword and spun like a whirlwind, his body arcing through the air, slicing through her form. This time, she didn't vanish but staggered back, groaning.
"Your blood... isn't ordinary..." she murmured.
The trio retreated, giving Shaou a moment of respite. Kneeling, he placed his sword on the ground and closed his eyes.
But a voice from the depths denied him peace:
"Well done, son of flame. But every shadow you conquer reveals a blinding light awaiting you."
And the fifth door appeared.
The ground trembled, and the arena split open, revealing a man cloaked in black, walking slowly toward Shaou. With each step, his features became clearer...
Shaou froze.
"No..." he whispered.
The figure was a mirror image of himself, but more ruthless, colder, and more savage.
The dark twin spoke:
"I am you... had you chosen hatred over mercy, anger over patience, blood over redemption."
He attacked first, a single devastating blow.
Shaou parried, but his body trembled, as if resisting fighting himself.
"This isn't just a battle of swords," he thought. "It's a confrontation with every weakness, every guilt..."
The shadow of Shaou attacked relentlessly, each strike echoing past regrets: a blow to the left side recalling his hesitation to save his village; a stab to the shoulder reflecting his remorse over his sister's death.
The battle wasn't just physical—it was emotional.
Shaou shouted:
"You're not me!"
The shadow smirked coldly:
"I am you when you drop the facade, when the masks fall."
Raising his sword with determination, Shaou screamed:
"I chose the harder path! The path of sacrifice! Don't speak for me!"
With each word, his strikes became more balanced, shifting from defense to offense. He realized that to defeat this shadow, he must accept it.
Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath and charged at his twin with all his might.
The arena ignited once more, but this time, the fire was symbolic. The tattoo on Shaou's body extended to his right eye, emitting a faint light.
Their swords clashed, freezing the moment.
"I've forgiven myself," Shaou murmured.
With that declaration, the shadow's body crumbled into ash, dispersing into the air like autumn leaves.
Shaou didn't feel victorious, but liberated.
Kneeling, he placed his sword on the ground and closed his eyes.
But a voice from the depths denied him peace:
"Well done, son of flame. But every shadow you conquer reveals a blinding light awaiting you."
And the fifth door appeared.
Beyond the fifth door lay a different scene: an ancient temple bathed in a soft blue light. At its center stood a massive stone pulsing like a living heart, surrounded by broken statues.
Him whispered:
"This is the Oath Stone... touching it confronts the contracts of your soul."
Esther looked at Shaou, saying:
"This stage isn't about combat, but about faith."
Approaching slowly, Shaou placed his hand on the stone, his eyes filled with determination.
The temple opened before him, and voices echoed in his mind.
His mother's voice, his sister's, his enemies'—all speaking at once.
"You're the reason we died."
"You saved me, but you betrayed me.
"
"You'll fall like your father .
Shaou closed his eyes and whispered:
I won't run from you . l won't run anymore.
The statues in the temple began to move. Each bore a face from Shaou's past: his mentor, sister, father, even the enemies he had slain.
A childlike figure approached, holding a broken sword.
"Why did you leave me?" the child asked.
Tears in his eyes, Shaou replied:
"I was too weak to carry you... but now I can face all I've lost."
He struck the statue with his sword, shattering it and silencing the voice. One by one, he confronted them, refusing to flee.
When the final statue crumbled, the stone dimmed, revealing a new door...
But his inner voice whispered:
"Your true journey has only just begun."
Beyond the last door of the chapter, the arena was shrouded in complete darkness.
Shaou stood alone... or so he thought.
With each step he took, footprints appeared ahead, as if someone was leading him.
Then a voice spoke, not from outside, but within:
"I am the shadow of your future... what you will become if you fail."
From the darkness emerged another Shaou... older, more ruthless, bearing a shattered shield and a corroded sword.
"I am the result of your surrender... now, fight me."
Shaou raised his sword, his heart pounding...
For the final test of this chapter doesn't measure your strength, but your belief in what you can become.
Shaou's heart trembled as he faced the older version of himself. This wasn't just a future—it was a warning. The shadow's voice was heavy, like steel grinding against bone.
"I failed where you stand now. I chose anger. I chose to abandon them."
Shaou clenched his fists.
"I won't make your mistakes. I won't become you."
They clashed—sword against sword, memory against possibility. Each blow echoed with grief, rage, and fear.
But Shaou's eyes burned with something deeper:
Hope.
He whispered:
"I'm not fighting to prove I'm right... I'm fighting to stay me."
The battlefield blurred, shifting into memories.
Shaou saw flashes—his sister smiling, his mentor's death, the burning village, his first battle.
These weren't just memories. They were anchors. Weights on his soul.
The shadow tried to use them to break him.
But Shaou shouted:
"I carry them not as chains—but as reasons!"
He lunged forward, piercing his shadow's shoulder.
The future self staggered, and for the first time, his eyes showed regret.
"You… might truly be stronger than me."
The arena ignited in holy fire.
Esther appeared, placing her hand on Shaou's shoulder. "You didn't just defeat him," she said softly. "You forgave him."
Him added, "And in doing so, you forgave yourself."
The final fragment of the shadow knelt and said:
"You carry the legacy now. Don't forget the weight of mercy."
As it disintegrated into light, a portal opened behind them.
Shaou breathed deeply, stepping through it with steadier steps.
They emerged at the edge of a cold wasteland. Above them loomed a colossal floating eye—The Eye of Ymir.
It blinked slowly, pulsing with ancient power.
Esther warned, "It sees into your truth. Into every lie you've ever told yourself."
Him gritted his teeth. "Don't look into it too long… or you'll lose who you are."
Shaou, however, stared back at it—unflinching.
"Let it see me. Let it see everything."
Visions slammed into Shaou's mind.
He saw a hidden memory: his father wasn't just a warrior. He was once allied with Odin… before betrayal.
He saw a sealed gate—his blood was the key.
He saw the fall of the Nine Realms.
Shaou gasped.
"My blood… is cursed and divine."
The Eye blinked once more, then vanished, leaving behind only frost and a single word carved in ice:
"Chosen."
They walked into a land of ashes—bones littered the ground.
A voice called from nowhere and everywhere.
"Shaou… will you become the flame that burns away lies? Or the fire that consumes all?"
The voice belonged to Skjöldr, the guardian of forgotten warriors.
He emerged from a pyre—his armor cracked, his helm flaming.
"To proceed, you must duel me."
Shaou nodded silently.
The duel began.
Skjöldr struck with speed that belied his size. His hammer tore the earth. Shaou danced between death and destiny.
"You lack killing intent," the guardian mocked.
Shaou parried, then whispered:
"I don't fight to kill. I fight to
protect."
Their blades clashed again, and Skjöldr paused.
"That… is rare."
He dropped his guard.
"Then show me the fire of the protector."
With a roar, Shaou summoned his inner flame—not rage, not vengeance, but purpose.
The mark on his chest glowed, wings of ember-like energy erupting from his back.
He surged forward, dodged the hammer, and struck Skjöldr in the chest.
The guardian knelt, laughter rumbling in his throat.
"You are flame, indeed. Pass."
He crumbled to ash.
The way forward opened.
They crossed into a void—no color, no sound.
Him whispered, "This is the Realm of Silence. Even gods fear it."
Shaou spoke, but no sound came out.
Suddenly, shadows rose—faceless, voiceless creatures of doubt.
Esther screamed, but it was silent.
The group huddled together.
Shaou closed his eyes and remembered the song his mother once sang.
He hummed it silently in his soul.
The creatures recoiled.
Sound returned.
A tomb emerged from the darkness.
Shaou stepped in and gasped—it was filled with items from his childhood. Toys, scrolls, his sister's ribbon.
He knelt and touched it.
Esther asked, "Are you ready to carry all of this into your future?"
Shaou nodded, tears falling freely.
"I have to. They're part of me."
The tomb's walls turned to mist.
He had passed the final memory trial.
At last, they stood before a towering gate covered in runes.
A voice echoed: "Only those who have faced shadow, memory, and fate may enter."
The gate didn't test strength or wisdom—but balance.
Shaou placed his hand on it. His flame, his sorrow, his mercy—all surged forth.
The gate trembled… then opened.
Beyond the gate lay a glowing bridge over stars.
Esther whispered, "This… is the path to the High Realms."
Him smiled, "And our real quest begins now."
Shaou took a step forward, then
looked back at the trials behind him.
"I'll carry you all with me."