The staircase spilled into a vast void—
A cavern so black it swallowed light, sound, and color.
At its center stood a throne, colossal and cruel,
Carved from the bones of forgotten gods,
Veins of crystal running through it, glowing in time with the heartbeat of the realm.
Behind it…
A wall of floating faces.
Some weeping.
Some screaming.
Some… staring directly at Lucien.
Elias whispered, "What the hell is this place…"
No one answered.
Then—movement.
The King rose.
He had no face.
Only a hood of eternal dusk, stitched with weeping runes.
An outline that shifted like smoke—impossible to fully grasp.
When he spoke, it wasn't a voice.
It was a devouring of silence.
"Lucien.
Daughter of storm and fire.
Student of the fallen shaman.
Why have you come?"
Lucien stepped forward, jaw tight.
"I seek answers. Truth. And the soul of someone lost."
"You seek what cannot be given."
"I'm not asking for a gift," she snapped.
"I'm asking for justice."
The King tilted his head.
The air grew colder—like memory itself had shivered.
"You speak like your mother."
Lucien flinched.
Just for a moment.
Then stood taller.
"She died protecting me. And for that, you chained her."
"She broke a sacred law."
"No. She broke nothing.
She chose her blood. She chose me."
The King descended a single step.
It sounded like a mountain groaning under its own weight.
"Do you challenge the laws of the dead, Lucien?"
Elias muttered behind her, "Uh… we might need a backup plan."
Mira stepped forward. Calm. Grounded.
"We don't want war."
Lucien didn't blink.
"I challenge you," she said.
"Not with blades.
But with truth.
With blood.
With the strength of a soul you failed to claim."
"I demand a trial. Soul to soul."
The chamber stilled.
Even the faces on the walls seemed to hold their breath.
Then—
The King nodded once.
"Very well…
Soul of Lucien.
Face yourself.
Prove your worth.
Or fade… like all the others."
The ground cracked.
And from the abyss, light bled upward—
Blinding.
Rising.
Ready to reveal what she had buried long ago.
The King let out a laugh—dark, thunderous, unrelenting.
It shook the entire chamber.
Lucien, Mira, and Elias were thrown to their knees under the sheer weight of it.
The air bent.
The walls groaned.
Even the throne trembled.
Elias, crushed to the floor, wheezed, "A little help would be… nice right now…"
Suddenly, the pressure vanished—gone like a snuffed-out flame.
"My apologies," the King said, voice ancient and deep. "I let a sliver of my energy slip."
Lucien, panting but still upright, scowled.
"A sliver? That was one percent, wasn't it?"
The King smiled.
"More or less."
Elias, half-dead on the floor, groaned.
"Yeah, well… your 'less' nearly sent me to the damn after-afterlife."
Lucien stepped forward, eyes locked on the King.
"Alright, what's this trial? Let's get it over with—I'm ready to crush you."
Elias blinked.
"I know you're feeling bold, but provoking a literal god? Maybe not the best plan."
In a blink—no, faster—the King vanished from his throne and appeared directly in front of Elias.
Even the air hadn't caught up yet.
"So you're the one sending me all these corpses," he said, peering down at Elias. "I expected more from someone who keeps delivering death to my doorstep."
Elias gave a nervous laugh.
"Yeah, uh… I've got delivery issues."
The King actually chuckled—then turned back toward the center of the chamber.
"Very well. Trial accepted."
He raised a hand.
The chamber began to shift—walls peeling back like torn paper, revealing a vast, endless forest pulsing with soul energy. Twisted trees. Faint cries in the wind.
"There's a creature loose in my realm," the King said.
"A monster. It feeds on lost souls… and the sacred flowers I've grown for centuries."
Lucien crossed her arms.
"With your power, you could crush it in seconds."
The King grinned. Thunder cracked above them.
"Exactly.
That's why you're going to handle it."
Then came the offer.
"You have two choices," he said, voice now cold and sharp.
"One: Face my personal guard in combat.
Or two: Hunt the creature… and bring it back alive."
Mira narrowed her eyes.
"Your personal guard. How strong are they?"
The King's cloak shifted.
From the shadows behind him, six figures emerged, cloaked in gold and silence.
"Each holds about… 5% of my power."
Lucien stiffened.
"Yeah. No thanks."
Elias, pale and shaking, raised his hand.
"Voting monster. Strongly."
The three exchanged a look.
The guards? A death wish.
The monster?
Still deadly. Probably a trap.
But at least… possible.
Lucien nodded.
"We'll take the hunt."
The King's smile stretched wider.
"Excellent."
"The hunt begins… now."
As they turned, heading toward the glowing path into the forest, the King's voice whispered into Mira's mind—telepathic, cold, and heavy:
"It carries what you cherish most."
"What you buried… and what might break you to remember."
Mira spun to look back—
But the massive gate slammed shut behind them with a deafening boom.
No turning back.
The hunt had begun.