The transition to the next world was unlike any they had experienced before.
The moment Lloyd, the Gatekeeper, and Riorno stepped out of the dimensional gate, it sealed shut behind them in heavy silence—as if the world itself wished to erase the memory of this place.
A dense mist filled the horizon, neither white nor black, but a dark gray streaked with falling red sparks, drifting slowly like the ashes of an ancient fire that had never truly gone out. The ground beneath their feet was cracked and pitch-black, radiating a faint yet constant heat, suffocating in its persistence, like the breath of a colossal creature sleeping deep below.
Lloyd stopped walking.
Not from exhaustion.Not from fear.
But because of that familiar sensation—one he had come to recognize all too well.
They were being watched.
In a low voice, without turning around, he said:
— "We're not alone."
The Gatekeeper tightened his cloak and stared into the empty distance before replying gravely:
— "Indeed… This is the Path of Black Ash. A forsaken realm between worlds. Only entities rejected by the cosmos enter here—or those seeking an end with no return."
Riorno smirked faintly, the black markings on his neck becoming more visible:
— "Then we're exactly where we need to be."
Lloyd glanced at him briefly, then returned his gaze forward.Deep inside, he felt it clearly—this path was not merely a passage.
It was a trial.
They advanced cautiously.Every step produced no sound, yet echoed within their chests, as though the ground itself recorded their presence and judged it.
Suddenly—
The ground exploded before them.
Columns of ash and stone erupted upward, forming massive beings with bodies of scorched rock, fissured with glowing cracks of fire. Their eyes burned with a fierce orange light—no pupils, no mercy.
A deep voice thundered, as if rising from the planet's core:
— "No one may pass…"
Lloyd reacted instantly.
He lunged at the nearest creature, delivering a direct strike infused with his usual power. His fist collided with the ash guardian's body—
But nothing happened.
The creature did not stagger.It did not crack.
Instead, it stared at him coldly, raised its massive arm, and struck him with a single blow that sent Lloyd flying several meters back.
He rose quickly, narrowing his eyes.
— "Their bodies… aren't affected."
The Gatekeeper shouted:
— "Because they're not alive! These are the Ash Wardens. Their bodies are bound to the essence of this world. Striking them with brute force means striking the path itself!"
One of the wardens stepped forward, its heat surging violently, distorting the air around it.
Riorno moved, unleashing a wave of black flame—but it only slowed the creature for a brief moment.
He shouted sharply:
— "Lloyd! You need to change your approach!"
Lloyd stood still.
He closed his eyes.
For the first time in a long while…He did not release his power outward.
Instead—he compressed it inward.
His bones felt as though they were being crushed.His blood burned as if boiling.
Yet he endured.
Faint markings appeared along his arms—interlocking circles and lines, pulsing with a dim white glow before stabilizing.
He opened his eyes.
His voice was calm, yet heavier than any scream:
— "A new technique… Stellar Compression."
He moved.
His speed was no greater than before—But the strike was different.
Focused.Silent.Precise.
His fist pierced straight through the warden's body—not through stone, but through what lay beneath it.
He struck the core.
The warden froze. Cracks spread across its entire form before it collapsed into lifeless ash.
A heavy silence followed.
One by one, the remaining wardens stepped back, their bodies disintegrating slowly, as though the world itself acknowledged defeat.
The Gatekeeper stared at Lloyd, his eyes filled with awe and unease:
— "You learned… without my guidance."
Lloyd exhaled deeply, staring at his own hand:
— "Power isn't about quantity," he said quietly.— "It's about direction."
Riorno smiled faintly.
— "It's clear now—you're no longer the child who chases shadows."
But deep within the Path of Black Ash…
Something else stirred.
Something that had yet to reveal itself.
Something that was watching.