Chapter — The Trial Beneath the Castle
The iron gate groaned open, its ten-inch-thick slabs of reinforced metal dragging against ancient hinges. A surge of cold, mana-laced air washed over me as the nurse guided me inside.
The underground training hall stretched endlessly—white stone floors polished smooth as mirrors, glowing blue mana crystals pulsing along its walls, and racks of elven weapons displayed with ritualistic precision. Each breath tasted of iron and mana. The silence felt too perfect.
Too controlled.
Aeldir murmured inside my mind, "This place… it's meant for real combat, not training."
I ignored the chill running down my spine and picked up a sword. Light, sharp—an elven make. Armor lined the wall, but only the chestplate fit my seven-year-old body. I strapped it on, feeling its weight dig into my arms.
Across from me stood the princess's last attendant—fully armored in enchanted silver-blue plate that hummed with heat. Even her sword burned faintly crimson, coated in thin fire magic. One strike from that would tear through my small frame.
She lowered her helmet's visor and drew her blade.
The king's voice boomed from beside the weapon stands:
"DO NOT HOLD BACK. THE WINNER WILL ACCOMPANY MY DAUGHTER TOMORROW."
Her armor flared brighter. My stomach dropped.
Aeldir whispered anxiously, "Big bro… we need that hangout."
I smirked. "Leave it to me."
The moment the signal was given, she rushed in—a blur of blazing steel. Her first strike collided with my sword with a force that rattled my bones. Sparks burst in my face. My arms trembled violently.
The fire coating her blade crackled every time it clashed against mine.
Her attacks were relentless—trained, refined, purposeful. She wasn't a guard.
She was a weapon.
Every blow slammed into me with precision meant to break defenses and crush stamina. Sweat rolled down my neck, pooling inside my armor. My lungs burned. The heat from her sword licked across my skin like flames.
I was barely surviving.
Aeldir's voice trembled. "Bro… we can't keep this up."
"I know."
My breath shook. "System… prepare."
I focused.
[User Input: Summon my Vessel]
A pause.
Then—
[System: Warning. Vessel unstable. Cannot maintain form.]
"I don't care. Force the summon."
[System: Stabilization possible for 20 seconds.]
"Good. Do it."
The instant I confirmed, a low hum built under my skin—then exploded outward.
Black fog erupted from my body, swallowing the hall in an instant.
Thick. Heavy. Cold.
A suffocating darkness that clung to every surface like it was alive. The crystals across the walls flickered violently.
The attendant stumbled, choking.
"W-What is this mana…?!"
She couldn't see me.
No one could.
Deep inside that fog—
My vessel emerged.
A silhouette of shifting black, semi-ghost, partially materialized, yet radiating an aura so dense it forced the armored knight to her knees. The pressure was overwhelming—dragonoid and human blood fused, unstable and raw.
Even I had trouble breathing beside it.
The ground beneath my feet cracked.
Her fire aura sputtered violently, trying to resist the crushing force pressing down on her armor. But her sword wavered. Her stance buckled.
Her body was no match.
I raised my hand—the vessel moved with me, perfectly synchronized.
My sword hummed with a cold, shadow-like resonance.
I stepped in. One clean strike.
A single blow.
CRACK—!
Her enchanted blade shattered like glass.
The fragments scattered across the floor, glowing faintly orange.
My follow-through cut across her shoulder armor—not deep enough to kill, but enough to bruise her through the plate. She gasped, falling onto one knee.
The fog swirled violently—
Then dispersed all at once.
Twenty seconds were over.
The vessel dissolved back into smoke, leaving only my exhausted body standing there, gripping a sword that suddenly felt much heavier.
The attendant looked disoriented, clutching her bruised shoulder.
And from the entrance, footsteps echoed—fast, urgent.
The princess rushed in with two guards at her side.
She saw only the aftermath:
Her attendant kneeling, clutching her shoulder in pain.
Me standing, barely keeping balance.
Not a hint of the vessel.
Not a glimpse.
Only the lingering remnants of black fog that dissolved harmlessly in the air.
"What happened?!" she demanded, running to her attendant. "You were perfectly prepared—how did you get injured?"
Her attendant opened and closed her mouth, unable to explain something she hadn't seen.
The princess turned toward me, eyes narrowing—not suspicious, but curious.
Concerned.
"You're hurt," she said softly.
I swallowed. My knees wobbled.
Every muscle throbbed.
My mana core felt like molten iron.
But I nodded, attempting a smile. "It's fine… I just tried my best."
Aeldir whispered, exhausted, "Big bro… we did it."
I could barely hear him anymore.
The last thing I remembered was the princess stepping forward, reaching toward me—
a faint warmth brushing my forehead—
Before darkness rushed in from all sides.
And I collapsed.