Chapter 112: The Trial of Strength

  The vast hallway stretched endlessly, its grand walls towering like the ramparts of a forgotten kingdom. The fortress carried an eerie atmosphere, the stone beneath their feet humming with an unknown presence. Each step echoed, swallowed almost instantly by the sheer vastness of the structure. The children, led by Antru, remained silent, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

  Cassis, who had always possessed an extraordinary affinity for sound, decided to test his magic. With a subtle snap of his fingers, a ripple of soundwaves expanded outward. His magic allowed him to perceive his surroundings even in complete darkness, much like a bat using echolocation. It had taken years for him to master his ability—at first, he had been overwhelmed by the flood of noise around him. Now, he could control it, bending it to his will.

  But something strange happened.

  The moment his soundwave reached the walls, it didn’t simply fade into the distance. Instead, it rebounded with unnatural force, slamming back into his ears like a backlash of magic. A sharp sting pierced his mind, making him stagger slightly. His eyes widened in realization. These walls were not mere stone. They pulsed faintly, as though alive, as though watching.

  A chill ran down his spine, and he immediately straightened his posture, deciding against any further experimentation.

  Ren, walking beside him, noticed Cassis’s brief moment of discomfort but chose not to comment. His attention was locked on Antru, the mysterious man leading them. Something about him resonated with Ren. The dark aura surrounding the man felt familiar, almost like a mirror of his own power. He couldn't help but wonder—how strong was this man? What kind of past had forged his abilities? A growing curiosity sparked within him, making him eager to witness what was about to unfold.

  Antru, for his part, was well aware of the stares burning into his back. He had long since learned to ignore them. The fortress itself was something he had come to understand—an entity of its own, watching, listening, waiting. He had once tried to ascend to the highest point of the fortress using his dark magic, driven by his own restless nature.

  That was when he saw it.

  A colossal eye, half-lidded, buried deep within the thick fog that cloaked the fortress’s peak. It had met his gaze, and for a terrifying moment, he had nearly lost control of his magic. The sheer weight of its stare had threatened to unravel his very being. He had barely managed to retreat before his magic spiraled out of control.

  Even now, as he walked these halls once more, he felt its presence looming above.

  But there was no time to dwell on such things. There was work to be done.

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  The group emerged into a massive arena, its grandeur far beyond what any of them had ever seen. The sheer scale of it was overwhelming—enough seating to accommodate at least twenty thousand spectators, though the seats remained eerily empty. The architecture was something out of a legend, resembling the grand coliseums depicted in the books they had read in their former lives.

  Their awe was short-lived as Antru’s voice cut through the silence.

  “All of you, listen.”

  The children turned to him, sensing the gravity of his words.

  “Before you undergo the ritual, you must prove yourselves. You will attack me with everything you have.”

  Confusion flickered through the group. Some exchanged glances, unsure if they had heard correctly. But before anyone could question him, Antru continued.

  “This will determine your future. Our master is watching. Do not disappoint him. Prove your worth.”

  The tension in the air thickened instantly. A few of the children instinctively took a step back, while others clenched their fists in anticipation. Then, as if a silent agreement had been made, they moved.

  Twelve children surged forward, magic crackling in the air.

  The battle erupted in a storm of elemental fury. Cassis was the first to strike, using his sound magic to disorient Antru with a deafening shockwave. But Antru merely tilted his head, dispersing the wave with a flick of his wrist.

  Ren followed up, shadows slithering from his fingertips, forming jagged tendrils that shot toward their target. Antru evaded effortlessly, his movements a blur. With a flick of his wrist, a pulse of dark energy sent Ren skidding backward.

  A boy named Joren charged next, conjuring a blade of pure blood. He moved with speed and precision, aiming a slash at Antru’s throat. At the last second, Antru caught the blade between two fingers, his black eyes gleaming with something close to amusement. With a sudden counterforce, he sent Joren flying back, landing hard on the arena floor.

  The rest of the children followed suit. Fireballs, ice shards, compressed winds, and torrents of water filled the air, each child unleashing their strongest magic in unison. The arena was swallowed in a chaotic display of energy.

  Yet, Antru remained untouched.

  With every attack, he moved like a shadow, weaving effortlessly through their assaults. When he did retaliate, it was precise—enough force to send them reeling, but never enough to inflict true harm. A dark tendril lashed out, wrapping around Cassis’s ankle, yanking him off his feet before slamming him onto the stone. Another child was caught mid-air and hurled back, landing in a heap beside him.

  Despite their numbers, despite their talents, they were nothing before him.

  Antru finally exhaled, his patience thinning. With a single step, his presence expanded, a suffocating wave of darkness crashing over them. The children froze, their magic faltering. Antru's voice carried through the space, calm yet absolute.

  “This is the limit of your power?” he asked, disappointment lacing his words. “You will never survive if this is all you have.”

  The weight of his presence pressed against them, making it hard to breathe. Some of the children trembled, fear creeping into their bones. Others grit their teeth, determined to push forward despite their exhaustion.

  Then, with a sudden release, the pressure vanished.

  Antru turned away, his cape billowing slightly as he walked toward the far end of the arena.

  “The ritual awaits,” he stated. “Follow me, or be left behind.”

  Joren, still catching his breath, swallowed hard. His pride stung, but the fear of being abandoned overpowered it. He was the first to step forward, following Antru despite the throbbing pain in his body.

  One by one, the others followed, each carrying the weight of their own failures.

  The true test had only just begun.