The iron doors slammed shut behind them with a deafening finality.
Total darkness swallowed The Lost Ones.
Eryndor stilled. No sound. No movement. Even the breathing of his ragged group seemed muffled, consumed by the oppressive black. He raised a hand and a single faint crimson light flared into existence at his palm, casting long, shifting shadows.
They stood in a narrow iron corridor, walls slick with something that pulsed faintly like veins under flesh.
The Severance Grounds.
A living dungeon. A graveyard of failed factions.
Eryndor's voice cut through the suffocating silence.
"Form up. Two lines. Weapons ready."
The survivors scrambled to obey, fear pressing into every twitch of movement. The air itself vibrated with low, guttural whispers. Words in languages no sane mind should understand.
The Unborn moved silently to Eryndor's side, massive chained frame blotting out the light. Behind them, the Mana-Cursed Girl shuddered, barely able to walk as sparks of unstable mana flickered uncontrolled around her hands.
They moved.
The corridor twisted unnaturally, the iron walls rippling like liquid. At every turn, cold statues of broken students lined the path—armor frozen mid-scream, eyes hollow voids.
Warnings.
"Do not speak to them. Do not touch them," Eryndor ordered without turning.
The Lost Ones obeyed.
A single misstep, and the dungeon would claim them forever.
Suddenly, the corridor widened.
They had entered the first chamber.
A vast circular arena of rusted chains and jagged platforms suspended over a bottomless void. Floating above the center was a black, crystalline eye surrounded by fractured halos of corrupted light.
The System's voice returned, colder than before.
[First Trial: The Trial of Severance. Sacrifice what binds you. Abandon your weakness. Pass, or perish.]
The iron floor beneath their feet cracked.
Each Lost One staggered as unbearable visions slammed into their minds.
The Mana-Cursed Girl collapsed, clutching her head, sobbing. "No… not again… make it stop…"
Eryndor stood motionless as his own past clawed at him: the countless loops, the failures, the endless deaths that had never even mattered to the System. He clenched his fists. His heart slowed. The assault broke like fragile glass against cold steel resolve.
He walked to the girl, knelt, and grabbed her by the collar.
"Listen," he said coldly, voice sharper than any blade. "You are not dying here. We do not break. We survive."
She sobbed harder, shaking violently.
Eryndor leaned closer, tone merciless.
"No one is coming to save you. Get up. Or die forgotten."
The words hit harder than any spell.
The girl's breathing steadied. Slowly, weakly, she rose to her feet.
Eryndor released her and turned his eyes toward the crystalline eye floating at the center of the arena.
The voice whispered again.
[One has passed.]
Eryndor stared at the dark abyss stretching endlessly below.
"The rest will follow."
The air in the chamber shifted.
The crystalline eye fractured with a sharp crack. The severed halos spun violently, flinging shards of corrupted mana into the void. From the center pit, something ancient stirred.
Eryndor's breath slowed.
"It begins."
Chains snapped. A monstrous form dragged itself upward from the abyss.
A grotesque fusion of armor, flesh, and bone, shaped from the remnants of students who had failed the Trial in past years. Dozens of twisted arms writhed from its torso. Faces fused into its carapace wailed soundlessly.
The Unborn stepped forward, heavy chains dragging across the iron floor as he raised his massive spiked gauntlets.
The Severed Warden had awoken.
[Severance Grounds Guardian: Initiated.]
[Eliminate all intruders.]
The Lost Ones panicked. The boy with flickering aura staggered backward, eyes wide in terror. Two others screamed and bolted for the far exit.
Eryndor's voice whipped through the chaos like a blade.
"Stop."
They froze, shaking.
"If you run, it will hunt you first."
The Unborn waited for Eryndor's command. Eryndor analyzed the beast's movements with cold calculation. Its joints twisted too widely. The mana pulsating in its core was unstable.
"Unborn. Anchor it."
The hulking figure lunged, throwing his chains like living serpents. They coiled around two of the Warden's massive arms. The creature shrieked in rage and reeled back.
Eryndor turned to the Mana-Cursed Girl. She trembled, barely standing.
"Target the core. Focus. Don't lose control."
She nodded, teeth clenched, and thrust both arms forward. Raw, unstable mana surged out violently. Her spell lashed the Warden's exposed center. Blackened flesh cracked and burned away.
The beast roared and lashed wildly.
A flailing claw ripped toward Eryndor.
He stepped inside the arc, twisting low under the swipe, and drove a stolen iron spike into the beast's exposed ligaments. Not to kill—only to disable.
The Warden staggered.
"Now!" Eryndor barked.
The Mana-Cursed Girl screamed as her unstable mana surged uncontrollably into the core. The Severed Warden froze mid-roar, cracked, then burst into ash and fragments of fading light.
Silence fell.
Eryndor stood straight as the System's cold whisper echoed once more.
[Second candidate group has passed.]
[Proceed deeper.]
The group sagged in exhausted relief.
Eryndor's expression remained unchanged as he turned toward the others.
One student, pale and trembling, shook his head. "I… I can't. I'm done. I quit. I'll take my chances up top."
Eryndor stepped forward and grabbed the boy by the collar, pulling him close. His voice was deadly quiet.
"There is no way back. You quit now, you die alone in the dark."
The boy froze, staring into Eryndor's cold, merciless gaze.
"I decide who survives. Not the Academy."
He shoved the boy back toward the group.
The faint glow of the next trial chamber shimmered faintly in the distance, beckoning them deeper into the labyrinth.
Eryndor smiled grimly.
"The real trial starts now."