After our bodies had finally recovered from the nightmare, our first stop was not the testing grounds. We went to the temporary shelter where the remaining children from the orphanage were staying. We sat with them for a while, talking to them and making sure they were safe. Seeing their fragile smiles seemed to give Charles a new kind of strength. Once we were reassured that they were alright, we finally headed to the test.
I walked alongside Charles toward the grand arena, the site of the acceptance test that would determine which faction he belonged to. Unfortunately, I would only be a spectator. I looked down at my small, unscarred hands. What is this body? How did the original Andrei possess such reckless courage when he had absolutely no power? Would my ultimate punishment in this world be facing this exact question until it destroyed me?
"Andrei. Andrei!"
I snapped out of my thoughts. Lady Marian was looking down at me, her brow furrowed. "Why are you so absent-minded? Are you sad that you will not participate? I know you have your reasons for wanting to fight, but without magic, you simply cannot stay alive in there."
"You are right, Lady Marian," I replied, putting on my best innocent smile. "But I will keep trying to awaken my power until I can become a hero too."
"Yes, and to become a hero, you must be patient," she said, her expression softening.
Charles placed a hand on my shoulder, his eyes burning with a new, fierce determination. "Do not worry, Andrei. Until you get your power, I will be the one fighting for all of us. I will become a hero today."
"I know you will, Charles," I said. "Good luck."
At the highest tier of the testing hall, an armored soldier stood rigidly before one of the kingdom's top officials, General Burdon.
"Sir, all security perimeters are prepared as you ordered," the soldier reported.
"Good. Now get back to your position, and whatever happens, do not abandon your post. Do you understand?" the General snapped.
"Yes, sir. But if I may ask, why the extreme security? Especially since the squad commanders will be here with us?"
"Listen, soldier," the General growled, stepping closer. "If you intend to stand here asking foolish questions, do not blame me for what I will do to you."
"Forgive me, General. I will go at once."
As the soldier hurried away, an older, scarred man sitting in the shadows, Sir Armas, spoke up. "Do not be so harsh on the boy, Burdon. He is completely ignorant of the terror that occurred yesterday."
General Burdon sighed, rubbing his temples. "Sir Armas, I apologize for my temper, but what happened yesterday defies all explanation. That wave of dark energy that swept across the continent... it was tremendous in every sense of the word. And what terrifies me most is that only a few high-tier mages even felt it. It means whoever released it possesses absolute, terrifying control."
"And the Duke?" Armas asked quietly.
"We found Duke Oger dead in his study. No wounds, no poison. His heart simply exploded from the sheer pressure of that lingering aura. For an aura to kill a Duke from miles away... whoever released it possesses a power that surpasses everyone on earth. Even as a General who trains heroes, I feel ice in my veins just thinking about it."
"It is no shame for a human to feel fear, Burdon," Armas said, standing up to look over the arena. "But to run from it, that brings sorrow to both the living and the dead. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then let the test begin. May fate have mercy on us all."
"This Hall of Challenges is massive!" Charles breathed out, looking at the towering stone walls and the roaring crowds.
"Yes, it is," Marian said, crossing her arms. "Andrei and I will go to the stands to cheer you on. Give it everything you have, Charles."
Charles nodded, gripping his fists tightly, and walked down toward the center of the arena where hundreds of hopeful youths were gathering.
Suddenly, the entire colosseum began to shake. The audience fell dead silent as seven massive stone doors slowly ground open around the arena. Heavy footsteps echoed. The squad commanders were entering.
The closer they walked to the center, the stronger the wind blew. The earth trembled violently beneath my feet, as if two giant magnets were drawing near and violently repelling each other. When the commanders finally stood side by side, their combined auras burst upward, piercing the clouds. The whole city, the land, the sea, the sky, shook as if a giant child were rattling a toy. Then, just as suddenly, they retracted their energy. The stadium erupted into deafening cheers.
"They are incredible!" someone in the crowd yelled next to me. "Look, it is Achilles, commander of the Red Lions! His physical strength is unmatched! And Mark, Lord of the Wind, leader of the Freedom Eagles! There is Tatsuka the Dark, commander of the Black Crows! Kaori of the Poison Plants, Shinji of the Blue Whales, and Ryoma of the Immortal Flames!"
"But where is the Lord of Ice?" another spectator complained. "Did he not show up again this year? What bad luck!"
General Burdon stepped to the center podium, his magically amplified voice booming across the arena.
"Welcome, young hopefuls! Today, you honor your ancestors who defended these lands for centuries with their spirits and their blood! They marched forward despite their wounds, refusing to surrender. That same blood flows in your veins today! To join the Seven Heroes is to swear to fight until your last breath. Let the trials begin!"
The General pointed to a massive screen. "The first test is focus and mana control. We have placed a specialized coin exactly four kilometers away from this arena. You must use your magic to locate it, grip it, and pull it here to your hand. Begin!"
"Four kilometers? That test is insane," someone muttered in the stands.
"No, it is entirely logical," Marian said, analyzing the arena. "Andrei, watch closely. This test depends on two things: mana reserves and intellect. Look at that boy there; he is trying to use pure brute force to pull it, but his energy is failing. You must visualize the path."
I watched Charles down in the dirt. He had his eyes squeezed shut, sweating profusely. Come on, Charles. You can do it.
"We have our first winner!" the announcer shouted. "Oliver brings his coin! Followed quickly by Anders!"
Charles gritted his teeth. A faint magical glow surrounded his hand.
"Time is almost up!" the announcer warned.
"Wait! I have it!" Charles roared, snapping his hand back as a silver coin shot through the air and slapped perfectly into his palm.
"Another winner just before the buzzer! Well done, Charles!"
The trials moved mercilessly. The second test pitted the remaining recruits against enchanted, heavily armored combat dummies. I watched Charles use his speed, darting around the heavy strikes and smashing his mana-infused fists into the dummy's joints until it shattered.
Then came the final test: a brutal battle royale among the remaining winners. The arena descended into chaos. Spells flew, and recruits attacked each other relentlessly. Charles fought like a demon. Every time he was knocked down, I could tell he was thinking of Dave and the children we had just visited, forcing himself back to his feet. He fought wildly until only a handful of recruits, including a fierce fighter named Lux, remained standing.
The commanders stepped forward to make their picks. When Achilles, the massive commander of the Red Lions, pointed a thick finger at Charles, I finally let out a breath. He had done it.
While the capital rejoiced, deep in a forbidden forest, a man wearing an elegant, dust-covered suit approached a dark cave. It was Maurice, the masked man who had killed Albert. He walked into the chilling castle of the Lord of Death.
"So, you finally decided to show your face, Maurice," a spectral spirit hissed from the shadows.
"Of course. How could I not answer my lord's summons?" Maurice replied arrogantly. "Is he inside? Tell me, what has the master been doing since he awakened?"
The spirit offered no answer, merely sinking back into the walls.
Maurice walked into the grand throne room and bowed slightly. "Greetings, Your Majesty. Maurice has arrived."
The Lord of Death stared down from his throne of black stone. His eyes were voids of infinite dark. "So, you are the one called Maurice. Tell me, why did you disobey my laws and leave through the forbidden gate?"
Maurice waved his hand dismissively. "My lord, that is a minor detail. I went to the capital to assassinate a target for a wealthy client. Duke Oger. But surely, you summoned me for more important matters?"
The Lord of Death did not speak. He merely blinked.
Instantly, Maurice found himself stripped of his magic, bound tightly by burning chains, and dragged to the edge of a horrifying pit filled with wailing, rotting corpses.
"Listen carefully, mortal," the Lord of Death's voice vibrated in Maurice's skull. "Before you enter my halls, you must remember who you are speaking to. I am the Lord of Death. Every action demands an accounting. If you lie or deflect, your fate is the pit."
Maurice's arrogance vanished, replaced by sheer, suffocating panic. "No, my lord! Wait! I have valuable information! During my mission, I encountered a child. One of my beasts attacked his group, but suddenly, the boy unleashed a tremendous, terrifying power of pure darkness! It was unlike anything in this world! That is why I stayed, to investigate him! I swear, that is the truth!"
Suddenly, the ground above the castle began to tremble. The temperature in the throne room plummeted.
When the Lord of Death felt that specific, distant vibration of energy, a horrifying smile stretched across his face.
"I feel it," the Lord of Death whispered, looking up at the stone ceiling. "The Gates of Hell are trembling above us. Such a mighty, delicious power... Do not rush our inevitable meeting, little demon. For I, too, am waiting."