Chapter 55: Prove your path

*BOOM!*

The heavy stone doors finally gave way, revealing a magnificent, vast subterranean hall constructed entirely of dark silver and polished obsidian. Deep fractures and jagged cracks crisscrossed the ancient marble floor, while a dense, suffocating white spiritual ether drifted through the air like freezing mist.

At the very center of the grand chamber, seated upon a towering, ornate throne, sat a hauntingly ethereal queen. In one hand, she held a sleek, frost-carved bow; in the other, a silver-bladed spear. Her skin was a translucent, porcelain white, and her vibrant crimson hair cascaded down her shoulders. Beneath her semi-transparent flesh, her skeletal frame was eerily visible. Across her body and pale face, intricate blue crystal scales gleamed with a chilling brilliance.

Bowed low around the base of the throne were dozens of humanoid courtiers, their bodies equally translucent, revealing hidden bones beneath scales of deep, icy blue.

As Seraphina stepped past the threshold, the Queen’s hollow, piercing gaze locked onto her.

Instantly, the floor beneath Seraphina’s feet shattered. An overwhelming, suffocating gravity slammed down upon her, warping the surrounding atmosphere. The stone tiles rose into the air, spinning violently around her in a lethal telekinetic vortex, while her crimson hair whipped wildly.

Unfazed, Seraphina channeled the dormant, evil spiritual energy she had recently absorbed. A complex dark-blue magic circle bloomed beneath her boots, surging outward to shatter the gravitational anomaly.

Time seemed to stutter. The bowing guards suddenly levitated into the air, lunging toward Seraphina with blinding speed. Wielding ornate silver spears etched with ancient runes, they thrust forward simultaneously, their hands morphing mid-air into razor-sharp, clawed blue scales for a devastating close-quarters assault.

Seraphina’s emerald eyes flashed. With a swift sweep of her hand, she erected a towering wall of dense, shimmering frost.

*BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!*

The spears slammed violently against the barrier, spiderwebbing the ice with deep fractures. Before the guards could retract their weapons, Seraphina unleashed a high-tier spell: **The Ice Flowers of Damnation**.

Instantly, freezing blue energy erupted across the attackers. The charging guards froze dead in their tracks as crystalline ice flowers violently bloomed across their skin, bursting forth from their shoulders, arms, and even their eyes. Bizarrely, despite the grotesque and horrific nature of the wounds, not a single drop of blood spilled; their bodies were instantly preserved in solid, unyielding ice.

High upon her throne, the Queen rose to her feet, her cold blue eyes studying Seraphina with chilling intensity. She drew back the string of her sapphire-blue bow, not with an arrow, but by slotting her heavy silver spear directly into the weapon.

As she drew the bow, the ambient energy of the entire hall drained into the weapon, feeding an apocalyptic freezing technique known as the **Abyssal Glacial Judgment**.

Seraphina countered instantly, channeling her full elemental output. However, her mortal limits were tested as the sheer volume of absorbed spirits began to take a toll; dark decay cracks began to spread across her pale skin. Recognizing the danger, she instantly activated her physiological spell, **Ice Muscle and Translucent Skin**, coating her body in an immaculate layer of pure white frost. The decay vanished, her skin glowing with divine perfection.

Drawing upon her newly forged ice-mage staff—an exquisite artifact intricately carved with frozen dragon motifs that doubled her mental output—Seraphina unleashed her ultimate offensive incantation: **Glacial Starburst Blast**.

The blinding orb of absolute cold collided mid-air with the Queen’s hurled silver spear.

*KABOOM!*

A cataclysmic wave of ice and shockwaves devoured the hall. When the blinding light finally cleared, the regal Queen shattered into a million pieces, dissolving into fine dust like a broken mirror.

Seraphina stood amidst the ruins, her sharp gaze scanning the chamber. "I knew it," she murmured quietly. "It was only an illusion—a lingering strand of divine will."

Her eyes drifted to the throne, where a brilliant, glowing sapphire rested upon the seat. As she reached out and touched it, a surge of raw energy flowed into her hand. The gem dissolved into blue light, piercing straight into her right eye and palm.

Pain flared briefly before subsiding, leaving her right iris a piercing, flawless sapphire blue, etched with an ancient celestial rune. A cold, victorious smile curved her lips. *The Eye of the Abyssal Sovereign,* she realized, feeling its terrifying capacity for spatial and elemental manipulation settle into her soul.

Turning on her heel, Seraphina strode out of the hall, her work here complete.

***

Far away, Arthur, Aethelgard, and their mysterious merchant guide pushed past the jungle’s edge into a desolate wasteland choked with dead, skeletal trees and swirling black ash.

Monstrous entities ruled this airspace: a colossal dragon woven entirely from black smoke, a towering eastern serpent of raw void energy, and primordial elemental dragons of pure ice and fire.

In the distance, a colossal beam of pure white light erupted from a jagged black peak, piercing the heavens like a spear. The ancient dragons circled the peak in reverent worship.

The merchant guide’s lips curled into a knowing, confident smile. "There. That is the core source generating every illusion in this realm. Once we breach that peak, this entire false world will collapse."

Arthur and the Prince stared up at the towering **Mountain of Death**, which radiated oppressive, necrotic energy.

"How are we supposed to scale a death-mountain guarded by primordial beasts?" Aethelgard asked, his brow furrowed.

The guide chuckled, gracefully tapping the gold monocle over her eye. "Simple. This is all an illusion. We simply climb it like a normal mountain of the mind. Nothing can stop us."

Without waiting for a reply, she strode forward, confidently placing her boot onto the base of the mountain trail.

*Snap.*

Instantly, her entire body locked rigid, encased in a thick shell of impenetrable grey stone.

Arthur and Aethelgard froze in horror, halting their steps just inches away.

From the shadowy peaks above, an ancient, resonant voice echoed across the wasteland, chilling them to the bone. *"To ascend this mountain, you must lay bare the truth of your path. Prove the righteousness of your ambition, or be consumed by your own delusions. Those whose path is false shall remain as eternal monuments."*

Right before their eyes, the merchant guide—the only other living soul in this twisted illusion besides themselves—crumbled into a statue of dull, lifeless stone, trapped forever within the nightmare of her own mind.

Arthur and Aethelgard swallowed hard, their throats dry. Panic clawed at their chests, but retreat was no longer an option. There was nowhere else to run, and the terrifying realization settled in—they hadn’t even truly entered the true secret realm yet; they were still trapped in its layered psychological gatekeeper.

With grim determination, the two youths stepped forward, placing their boots onto the sacred stone trail of the Mountain of Death.

Instantly, the landscape vanished. A blinding surge of ethereal light dragged Arthur and Aethelgard straight into their individual trials of illusion, where they would be forced to bare the core of their ambitions.

***

Meanwhile, deep within the subterranean trial site, Kael continued his grueling ascent up the endless white marble staircase. He counted each step in his mind, his breath coming in measured, steady rhythms.

*Five hundred.*

He had officially crossed the five-hundred-step mark. Glancing back, he noticed that the trailing crowd had been left far behind, completely crushed by the ascending gravity. Ahead of him, the staircase finally seemed to be reaching its apex, and a triumphant smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Victory was within reach.

Curious, Kael cast a glance toward the parallel pathway running alongside his. To his shock, Princess Vespera was still pacing steadily upward on her specialized side-path, refusing to fall behind.

For a brief second, his heart skipped a beat. *What if she reaches the treasure first?*

Then, his thoughts shifted to the arrogant Duke’s son he had just slaughtered on the stairs below. He vividly remembered the look of cold disgust on Vespera’s face while interacting with her betrothed. It was obvious the political marriage had been forced upon her against her will.

*If I bring this up once we reach the top,* Kael calculated swiftly, *she might willingly agree to split the treasures with me.*

Yet, ambition burned fiercely in his chest. This treasure was meant for him—it was his destiny. No matter what, he would claim it all.

Just as he turned his gaze forward, a chilling ripple of unease washed over him. Glancing up past the Princess’s path, he spotted a final figure effortlessly ascending behind her—the mysterious hooded man who had arrived last to unlock the Bronze Gate. Draped in pitch-black robes and an obscuring hood, the stranger exuded an eerie, suffocating aura.

The moment Kael laid eyes on him, a violent wave of chills raced down his spine. The stranger’s silhouette triggered a deeply buried, haunting memory: the enigmatic, fog-veiled man who had kidnapped his mother and sister years ago.

Kael violently shook his head, forcefully pushing the terrifying thought away. *Coincidences like that don’t just happen twice. I need to forget the past, let go of useless ghosts, and focus entirely on the path ahead.*