There was no blue moss anymore.
Instead, green-glowing rods bathed the cave in a soft, pulsing light, as if they held stored Sanitas-Aether within them.
The entire chamber seemed to breathe — quietly, expectantly.
Yet the four paths before them were blocked by dense vines and roots, as if the cave itself had decided to grant them passage only once they were ready.
"This is… strange," Nouel murmured, taking a step forward. "How are we supposed to move on if everything's blocked?"
"Raiiko, why don't you just use Ignis?" Viktoria asked hopefully.
Raiiko gave the faintest shake of his head. "Force is not always the answer," he said softly. His gaze slid briefly to the shadows on the wall, as if he could see paths there that were hidden from the others. "I suggest we practice patience. This place reacts to us — and there are paths I cannot walk with you."
Alvios scratched his head. "So… patience, huh. How about we at least get a bit closer first?"
They stepped up together to the blocked paths.
Nothing moved.
"The way is still closed," Nouel observed dryly.
"Four paths… and there are four of us," he added aloud.
"Then I guess we have to split up," Alvios concluded. "Each of us stands in front of a path — and we see what happens."
"We test it," Nouel said curtly. "We don't have many other options."
Each of them chose one of the four entrances and took position in front of it.
For one heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the vines trembled.
They loosened, fell away, and the roots withdrew into the ground like fading Aether veins, until all four paths lay open.
"Ha! Knew it!" Alvios shouted triumphantly.
Viktoria was determined — but also afraid. Walking alone into an unknown depth… that was different from fighting side by side. Alvios noticed her hesitation.
"Viktoria, don't be afraid," he said quietly. "A wise man once told me: when you're scared, just look back at what you've already overcome — and don't doubt your own strength. You can do this."
"Thank you, Alvios," she murmured with a small smile, eyes lowering.
Nouel raised his bow, took a deep breath, and centered himself for whatever awaited him.
"Guys," he said shortly, "give it everything. Whatever this place throws at us — we send it back to where it came from."
After that little speech, the group moved on — now highly determined, but separated, each into their own path.
Raiiko set one foot into his corridor and spoke only inwardly: If you truly are here… then the Flow has brought us together again. And I'll make sure this chapter ends.
The four paths branched like the limbs of an ancient tree.
Alvios followed the rising path upward, Viktoria went deeper toward the heart of the cave.
Nouel turned left, and Raiiko slipped wordlessly into the right-hand passage, steeped in shadow.
When they each reached their destination, all four heroes found themselves in a huge chamber — one each.
But something was wrong.
They were not together. Each one was alone.
"Damn…" Nouel growled under his breath. He already suspected what kind of trial this would be.
Alvios lifted his sword, and in the silent breath of the moment he felt the Aether currents around him awaken.
Raiiko stood still as a deeply rooted tree, shadows flowing subtly around his wrists.
Viktoria took her fighting stance, blades crossed, breath steady, heart alert.
Then the ground began to throb.
A corpse rose from the earth, entwined with roots like ancient fingers.
Piece by piece, shapes layered over it, as if the Aether itself were forming an image.
An image of them.
"That's… me…" Viktoria shuddered.
Nouel said nothing. His gaze hardened; disgust and revulsion mingled in his eyes. Raiiko remained motionless. Outwardly, it left him cold.
Alvios stared his double in the face. "Okay, your creator really screwed up. I don't remember ever looking that ugly!"
He was riled up — whether from anger or self-defense, he couldn't even tell.
They all prepared for their reflection's assault. It could begin any moment.
Both Alvios moved at once. They charged each other; swords clashed — blade against blade. Sparks flew, the impact made the floor tremble, a fine mist of Aether and dust hanging in the air. Every strike felt like fighting himself — the same patterns, the same speed, the same will.
Viktoria now went on the offensive too. She rushed her clone in a dancing, curved line. Her double mirrored her perfectly — every step, every spin, every tilt of the head absolutely identical.
I know what comes next, Viktoria thought. Side slash at head height.
She let the strike come, ducked under it at the last moment, and cut one of the root-like veins along her clone's side.
"Damn… not deep enough," she hissed.
Raiiko, on the other hand, chose patience. He felt his clone gathering Aether, felt the air grow thicker around them. An attack was coming — powerful and precise.
Before that, he had already gone at the double with his bare fists. His body moved like a silent prayer of the monks of Ignis Ardentis — every strike a whisper of flame, every step a breathing shadow.
An Ardor Palm flared in his hand, a spark of inner fire striking the clone's ribs. With an Umbrae Step he vanished into the shadow for a heartbeat and reappeared at its flank.
The next attack — a kick whose heat was barely visible yet made the ground beneath his feet crackle. And finally, a blow so silent even the Aether itself seemed unwilling to oppose it.
But all these moves, these interplays of flame and darkness, did not have the same effect as they would on the living. The corpse staggered, then adjusted — as if an unseen will in the background was fine-tuning every motion until it could mirror his techniques.
The clone said nothing. It only raised its hand — and the Aether began to shimmer.
Three blazing spears of pure fire-essence formed in the air, sharp as broken sunrays. Ignis Hastarum.
With a pounding crack they burst from stillness and shot toward Raiiko.
Raiiko answered not with words but with a single, quiet breath. Shadows at his sides rose as if in greeting. Within their flow, something condensed — simple, dark, cold as night air.
A staff formed there, Umbra Ignis, as soundless as a fading memory.
He took it in a steady grip. No visible spell, no runes — only motion.
With a single circling swing, Raiiko traced a whirling arc through the air. Shadow and smoldering sparks fused into a flickering spiral.
The Ignis Hastarum struck the spiral, flared against it — and burst apart in silence, as if the space itself had swallowed them.
In the same movement, Raiiko slipped back. The darkness behind him rippled like water struck by a stone — and he vanished into it.
The clone froze, stance tense, gaze searching. Absolute silence.
A few heartbeats later, a shadow opened behind it like a gentle tear. Raiiko stepped out, as silent as a dying ember —
— and the precise blow of his staff struck the back of the clone's neck.
That should do it. Any normal opponent would be finished, Raiiko thought.
And so it would have been —
if his opponent were still alive.
The clone jerked around, an unnatural, twitching reflex, and hurled its body into a spinning strike.
Raiiko pulled back at the last instant; the staff of the double hissed past his face so close he could feel the warped Aether chill.
He countered at once. In one fluid motion, Raiiko swept his double's legs away, slamming the body to the ground. But the corpse, immune to pain and hesitation, used the momentum and swung its staff low, aiming at his ankles.
Raiiko blocked with the lower end of his own staff, turned over his shoulder, and landed again — light, focused, completely in the Flow.
In the next breath, he dove back into close combat.
A flurry of blows followed, precise as the repetition of a mantra.
A strike from the right — only feinted — and the next hit the clone's hip. The body swayed, but with every heartbeat it adapted more, learned, copied.
It became a race against time.
A downward strike — blocked by the clone.
An upward cut — the clone followed through with its own, but Raiiko caught the attack with his bare right hand, grip hard as steel, while his left hand guided the staff and drove a thrusting impulse into the double's chest.
The copy was flung backward, its staff jolting from its grip and clattering to the ground.
A lifeless body, jerked by someone else's will.
Then, without warning, the clone raised both hands skyward.
Raiiko recognized the gesture. "Of all techniques… that one. Then I've got only one option left."
The air began to warp. Heat surged as if the cave itself held its breath. Sweat ran down Raiiko's forehead while the Aether between them trembled — two currents on the verge of crashing together like stubborn rivers.
Raiiko grabbed his staff and hurled it upward — a single, decisive arc.
"Ignis… I sacrifice the staff. Lend me strength."
Even as the words faded, flames devoured the staff. It blazed bright, then crumbled into dark grains that drifted to the floor.
In the same instant, the built-up power discharged.
Two colossal waves of pure Ignis energy rushed at each other — and when they collided—
A thunderous crack ripped through the corridors. The walls shook, the air flickered, the ground vibrated like under the stride of some ancient being. Heat burned itself into every fiber of the cave for a brief, searing moment.
And then — silence.
The last thing one could see before the flames died was a charred shred of black cloth, slowly drifting down to the ground.