The ground beneath Arian's knees split open, rivers of molten fire pouring out like streams from the underworld. Rose's screams still echoed in his ears, while the charred corpses of the villagers drew closer. Their hands reached for him, their skin peeling away, their voices merging into a deafening wall of sound:
— "It's your fault… It's your fault…"
Arian tried to stand, but his legs were heavy, bound as if chained by fire itself. His heart hammered in his chest, his mind screaming: "This is a trial… it has to be a trial… but why does it feel so real?!"
Then Grām emerged from the flames. Not just a beast of fire anymore… his form shifted. Half of his face had become Arian's own—his eyes, his features, twisted into a monstrous reflection. A mocking smile carved across his face:
— "Arian… see? This is your truth. They all died because of you. Not just because you were weak… but because I live inside you."
Arian bit his lip until blood spilled, raising his trembling sword with a broken cry:
— "Shut up!!! I won't accept this!"
Grām laughed, a thunderous laugh that cracked the air itself:
— "You passed the trials of mind and heart… but remember, a mind without truth is a lie. And a heart that refuses to face the darkness within… is fragile."
Suddenly, Rose appeared again. But this time, she stood beside Grām. Her eyes were void-black, her hand locked with his. Her voice was cold:
— "I chose him… not you."
The shock pierced Arian like an arrow. He dropped to his knees, whispering:
— "No… impossible…"
Grām stretched out his hand, black flames unfurling like chains, wrapping around Arian's chest. They tightened, crushing his ribs. He gasped, struggling for air—none came.
— "I am your weakness, Arian… and I will always be inside you. Every time you see the light, you'll remember me. No matter how far you run, in the end… you'll return to me."
Arian screamed—not only from pain, but from despair. Sweat, blood, and tears blurred together. But through the torment, he remembered a vow he once made: "I am not a shadow… I am the one who will forge my own light."
He raised his head, meeting Grām's twisted reflection with defiance:
— "If you are my weakness… then I will be the one to control you. Not the other way around!"
Light erupted from his chest—blinding white, yet scarred with streaks of shadow, like a wound that would never fully heal. The black chains shattered. For the first time, Grām staggered back, fear flickering in his stolen features.
Arian seized his sword with both hands, charged forward, and drove the glowing blade into Grām's heart. The monster screamed as his black flames dissolved, his body collapsing into smoke—smoke that surged into Arian's chest.
He collapsed to the ground, gasping, feeling two fires raging inside him: one pure, one abyssal.
The chamber fell silent. The voices vanished. The flames died. Arian raised his head weakly as the gate before him creaked open.
Outside, the Headmaster stood waiting, his eyes wide with awe for the first time:
— "Impossible… No one has ever returned alive from this trial. You… are the first."
Arian rose, his face streaked with sweat and tears, but in his gaze burned a new light—the light of someone who had touched the depths of the abyss… and chosen to climb back.
"This is only the beginning."