The next trial loomed ahead like a predator lying in wait. The air was heavier here, sharp with metallic tension. Unlike the previous runic challenge that tested intellect and insight, this arena pulsed with raw ferocity. Stone slabs jutted from the earth like broken teeth, and ancient weapon racks lined the periphery, rusted but humming faintly with residual energy.
Aarav took a cautious step forward, eyes narrowing. "This place doesn't feel right."
Solace's voice buzzed into his mind."That's because it isn't. The parameters of this location are unstable. Combat trial commencing. Prepare for physical confrontation. High likelihood of pain. Possibly lots of it."
Aarav winced. "Thanks for the comforting pep talk."
Suddenly, the center of the arena lit up with blinding crimson lines, forming a seal that burst apart in a flash. From the glow emerged a towering figure—armored in obsidian plating, holding twin axes forged in crimson flames. Its eyes were hollow, but the hatred within them burned real.
"Warden-class guardian. Combat design optimized to exploit humanoid weaknesses. Great." Solace added, deadpan.
The guardian charged, and Aarav barely dodged in time, rolling to the side as an axe split the stone where he stood. The shockwave from the impact sent rubble flying.
He panted, palms scraped, ribs aching. This wasn't some sparring match—this was survival.
Drawing the ancient dagger he had recovered during his earlier exploration—a blade etched with faint runes—Aarav felt an odd sensation course through his fingers. The blade pulsed, responding to the latent bloodline within him.
He steadied himself, grip tightening.
"Solace, any weaknesses?"
"Several," the AI replied. "But they are all located on the part trying to kill you. Suggest not dying before exploiting them."
"You're a real ray of sunshine, you know that?"
Aarav ducked under another sweeping blow, feeling heat flash across his face. His muscles ached, not from exhaustion but the strain of channeling new power. The bloodline within him surged again, and runic threads from earlier studies shimmered along his skin for a moment—temporary shielding?
He pushed off the ground with renewed force, leaping toward the Warden. His dagger slashed out, meeting resistance, then slicing through the exposed joint at its shoulder. The guardian let out a mechanical roar, spinning violently and hurling him back.
He hit the wall hard. Pain flared in his spine.
"Ribs fractured. Not life-threatening. Yet."
"Gee, thanks," Aarav coughed.
The guardian advanced, relentless. Aarav's mind raced. Then an idea clicked.
Using runes as a base, he quickly traced a pattern on the stone floor—one he had seen in a mural half-erased by time. It was incomplete, but with Solace feeding corrective suggestions, the glyph activated just as the Warden stepped into range.
Boom.
The shock rune exploded with blinding light, staggering the construct. Aarav didn't wait. He lunged again, this time driving the dagger into the glowing core beneath the creature's neck plating. The blade sank in, and for a moment, the world went silent.
The guardian collapsed into dust.
Aarav staggered back, breathing heavily, chest tight but alive.
"Congratulations," Solace chirped. "You've passed the Invader's Trial. Try not to bleed on the next one."
A low hum rose from beneath the ground. In the center of the arena, a pedestal rose slowly. Atop it, a crystal-like shard pulsed with familiar energy.
When he touched it, a rush of warmth spread through his chest. A vision.
Memory Fragment – The Crimson Path
A flash of a battlefield. Mountains crumbled under fists, and skies were torn apart by sheer force. A lone figure advanced through legions of enemies, his body pulsating with bloodline power pushed to its limit. His muscles cracked with every movement—refined to perfection. No weapon, no spell—just strength.
The Invader.
Not a name, but a storm of willpower and violence. He marched through ruin, carving destiny with flesh and rage. And on his back… the dagger. The same one Aarav now held.
Aarav gasped, falling to one knee.
"That wasn't… me."
"Correct," Solace said, voice quieter. "That was the one who walked this path before you. The one who carved the Invader's legacy. And perhaps, your bloodline's most dangerous inheritance."
He didn't reply immediately. Instead, he stared at his hand—the same hand that had once fumbled with a cricket bat, now shaking after felling an armored monster.
He was changing. And with every fragment, every trial, he felt it: the tether pulling him toward something bigger.
The Spiral Door… home… revenge… and truths yet untold.