Chaos had weight.
Kael felt it the instant he was torn from the world above. The fall was not downward—it was inward, as if space itself had folded and begun crushing him from all directions at once. Sound vanished. Light twisted into meaningless streaks. Even time felt unstable, stretching and snapping like a frayed rope.
His weak body screamed.
Bones creaked. Blood rushed violently through veins that were never meant to endure this kind of pressure. Any ordinary cultivator—any genius—would have been reduced to nothing within seconds.
Kael did not resist.
He embraced it.
The devil sigil ignited fully for the first time.
Cold authority surged through his soul, wrapping around his fragile body like invisible armor. Fear—residual, ancient, left behind by countless beings who had died in this place—flooded toward him, drawn in as if answering a call.
Fear absorbed.
Devil Authority temporarily amplified.
The crushing pressure eased just enough.
Kael landed.
Hard.
The ground beneath him cracked, black stone splintering outward as his body slammed into it. He rolled once, twice, then came to a stop on one knee, one hand pressed firmly against the ground.
He inhaled.
The air tasted wrong.
Old.
Stale.
As if it had not been breathed in thousands of years.
Kael rose slowly and surveyed his surroundings.
The trial ground was vast—an endless plain of broken terrain stretching to the horizon. Jagged stone pillars rose at irregular intervals, some shattered, others etched with runes worn nearly smooth by time. The sky above was a swirling mass of gray and crimson clouds, lightning flashing silently within them.
There was no sun.
No moon.
Only a dim, directionless glow.
"This place…" Kael murmured.
He recognized it now.
Not from memory of this life.
From fragments of forbidden records in his previous one.
A battlefield abandoned by history.
A place used by higher existences to test contradictions—beings that did not fit cleanly into fate's design.
A place where names were erased.
"Good," Kael said quietly. "Then I don't need to hold back."
A sound echoed across the plain.
Slow.
Heavy.
Footsteps.
Kael turned.
In the distance, silhouettes emerged from the fog.
Not people.
Things.
Humanoid shapes stitched together from armor and bone, eyes glowing faintly red. Some carried broken weapons. Others dragged chains fused into their arms.
Puppets.
Remnants of failed trials.
Each step they took radiated malice, resentment, and—most importantly—fear.
The devil sigil pulsed eagerly.
Kael stepped forward.
The nearest puppet roared and charged, its movements jerky but powerful. It swung a rusted blade down at Kael's head with enough force to cleave stone.
Kael sidestepped calmly.
He reached out and placed his palm against the puppet's chest.
The moment contact was made, the sigil flared.
The puppet froze.
Cracks spread across its body like shattered glass as the fear embedded within it was ripped out violently. The red light in its eyes flickered… then went out.
The body collapsed into dust.
Kael exhaled slowly.
"So that's how it works here," he said. "Fear is currency."
More figures emerged.
Dozens.
Then hundreds.
They did not rush all at once.
They encircled him.
Kael felt it clearly now—the trial was not about survival.
It was about choice.
Fight.
Absorb.
Grow.
Or be overwhelmed and erased.
Kael spread his fingers.
"Come," he said softly.
They did.
The battlefield exploded into motion.
Kael moved like a shadow through the chaos, every step precise, every movement calculated to minimize strain on his fragile body. He did not overpower his enemies—he dismantled them, stripping away the fear that bound them together.
Each kill strengthened him.
Each absorbed fragment sharpened his authority.
Devil Authority increasing.
Temporary threshold approaching.
Pain accumulated.
His body screamed.
Blood soaked his clothes.
But his eyes burned brighter with every passing moment.
Then—
A presence.
Different.
He felt it immediately.
The puppets hesitated.
The fog thickened.
From the far end of the battlefield, a lone figure approached.
Human.
Alive.
Kael narrowed his eyes.
The young man.
The reborn "hero."
Golden light shimmered faintly around him, repelling the fear-infused fog as he walked. His expression was calm, but his eyes were alert—calculating.
"So we're in the same trial after all," the man said.
Kael did not answer.
He studied him instead.
The golden light around the man was dimmer than before—restricted by the trial—but it was still there, protecting him from corruption, isolating him from the fear saturating the battlefield.
A counterforce.
"I won't pretend this is coincidence," the man continued. "Someone wants to see which of us deserves to exist."
Kael finally spoke. "And you think it's you."
The man smiled faintly. "I think the world functions better with rules."
Kael laughed softly.
"Rules," he said. "Are written by survivors."
The ground shook violently.
A roar tore through the battlefield—deep, ancient, furious.
Both Kael and the young man turned toward its source.
The fog split apart.
Something enormous began to rise from beneath the broken stone.
A titan formed from fused corpses and shattered weapons, its body radiating pure hatred. At its core burned a massive fear crystal, pulsing like a heart.
The trial's guardian.
Or executioner.
The young man inhaled sharply. "That thing… it feeds on chaos itself."
Kael felt the devil sigil surge violently in response.
No.
Not fear.
Recognition.
"This trial doesn't want one of us to win," Kael said quietly. "It wants one of us to be consumed."
The titan roared again and took a step forward.
The battlefield trembled.
Kael stepped forward too.
The young man hesitated—then matched him.
For the first time, devil and hero stood side by side, facing a threat that could erase them both.
"Temporary truce?" the man asked.
Kael smiled without looking at him.
"Don't misunderstand," Kael said. "If we survive this… I'll still kill you."
The man nodded. "Fair."
The titan raised its arm.
The sky above fractured.
And deep within Kael's soul, the devil sigil cracked open another layer—
revealing something that should never have awakened this early.