[FAILURE WILL RESULT IN DEATH .]
"Wiz, can you hear me?"
…Silence.
William frowned.
"So even Wiz can't reach me here."
He drew both his daggers—one ordinary, the other pulsing faintly with dwarven runes. Yashir's dagger.
He held the plain one in his right, then channeled essence into Yashir's blade. It shimmered cyan, its edge reforming into pure, vibrating energy.
Without warning—
Flash.
The guards vanished.
A rush of wind. A blur in the corner of his eye.
They struck from every direction, like phantoms made of steel and speed.
"Lavitation," William muttered. His body shot upward, narrowly dodging their blades. But before he could fully adjust—
Thud!
A kick to his back slammed him from the air.
Crash.
He tumbled across the polished white floor, rolled, and steadied himself. Blood ran down the corner of his mouth.
He wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"They're faster than I expected," he muttered, teeth gritted. "Even Lavitation can't keep up."
From his pocket, he pulled out a small bronze ring and strapped it onto his wrist.
"Let's hope Dazir's gift wasn't just decorative."
Flash.
The guards moved again—but this time, William could track them. His eyes locked onto the flicker of a shadow.
Whoosh.
A guard appeared in front of him, leg raised for another brutal kick.
William twisted low, swept his foot, and used the momentum to vault upward—
Thud!
—landing a solid kick to the guard's back.
The metal form barely flinched.
Then—
Crack!
A punch from the second guard slammed into William's ribs, launching him into the ground.
Boom.
He rolled, gasped, then jumped back just in time to dodge a crushing blow that cratered the floor where his head had been.
Every movement cost him.
They weren't fighting like men. They were machines—merciless, efficient, relentless.
Before he could regain control—
Crack!
Another kick landed in his side. He felt something inside shift.
Cough. Cough.
Blood splattered on the ground.
He knelt, chest heaving, body screaming in pain.
And yet—
A grin crept onto his bloodied lips.
"Ha… ha ha…"
He looked up, eyes glinting.
"I'll die if I keep this up," he muttered. "But…"
His gaze drifted past the circling guards…
To the floating earring, still suspended in the glowing sphere at the center of the room.
A glimmer of defiance sparked in his eyes.
"Who said I have to defeat the guards to win?"
He rose slowly to his feet, shoulders squared despite the pain.
Essence surged around him.
His voice was quiet, almost amused.
"Let's end this."
"Do you guys know how to play chess?" William muttered, blood sliding down the side of his lip as he straightened his back, legs aching from impact.
Silence.
Thought so. Just machines. Fast ones… but predictable.
He exhaled slowly.
Time to move my pieces.
William loosened his grip—
Flash—
Now. They'll see an opening—go straight for me.
Sure enough, the guards vanished, streaks of metal and blur.
But William was already a step ahead.
He hurled both daggers — one slicing toward the earring from the left, the other from the right.
Guard One and Two will intercept. They have to. That earring is the trigger—they can't let it be touched.
Vanish. Vanish.
Two afterimages broke through the air—
Clack. Clack.
Good. They took the bait. That puts them at the edge of the room… now it's just you, Guard Three.
Swish—
William's instincts screamed. He threw himself up just as the third guard appeared behind him, palm slicing the air where his spine had been a second ago.
Landed.
He hit the ground, rolled, and locked eyes with the third.
He's the most aggressive. Close-range. That means he'll try to block me directly.
Meanwhile, his daggers — floating and spinning — kept Guard One and Two busy, jabbing, feinting, harassing.
[ESSENCE: 100 / 1350]
Barely enough. One more summon per blade, maybe two if I push it.
William broke into a sprint—
I can't win a head-on fight. I don't need to. I just need to touch the earring.
The third guard appeared in front of him again, hands reaching.
There you are.
"Summon."
A thought, a flash—one dagger reversed direction mid-air.
Click—
It struck the third guard in the side.
Openingmade.
William slid under the guard's arm and dashed past.
Now... the first one will try to cut me off—left side, mid-range. A grab, not a strike. He wants to hold me.
Swish—
There—
"Summon!"
The second dagger flew back—
CRACK!
It slammed into the first guard's shoulder just as he reached for William.
Perfect.
The path was open.
The earring pulsed ahead of him, floating in a cage of crackling energy.
One move left. Essence of Corruption—concentrate it, shape it, don't overload or the backlash will knock me out.
Red essence twisted around his fingers like smoke from a dying star.
He lunged.
CRACK.
The shield buckled—
SHATTER.
It exploded into shards of light.
He grabbed the earring.
GRAB.
Power surged into him like a heartbeat.
Got it.
A faint smirk crossed his lips.
"Checkmate."
The earring pulsed in his palm. Power surged through him like lightning in his veins.
He stood there, breathing hard, blood painting the edges of his smirk.
"Taking that beating… just to watch how they moved…"
He chuckled, low and tired.
"Not the worst choice I've made."
His fingers curled tighter around the prize.
"Worth it
[THE TRIAL HAS ENDED]
[THE CHALLENGER HAS COMPLETED THE TRIAL]
William stood in silence, chest rising and falling, blood still dripping from his chin.
Around him, the guards' bodies stiffened — then fell like puppets whose strings had been cut.
William stood over the crumpled guards.
No rage. No pity. Just fact.
They were tools. Now discarded.
The strong persist. The weak vanish.
That's the law of the world.
A sudden flash engulfed him—blinding, searing, absolute.
For a moment, there was nothing but light… and then—
Silence.
When William opened his eyes, the world had changed.
He was back.
Standing in front of the street vendor.
The scent of roasted spices, the chatter of voices, the clinking of metal—all flooded his senses.
Color returned. Life surged around him.
William glanced down at his body—
Moments ago, it had been battered, bloodied, broken by the merciless trial.
Now… not a single bruise remained. As if none of it had ever happened.
"Hey, kid. Why are you staring like that?" the vendor snapped. "Give it back."
William didn't respond.
Instead, he calmly raised the earring, turned it in his fingers—
Then clipped it onto his left ear with deliberate grace.
A sly smirk curled at the edge of his lips.
His eyes, sharp and unwavering, locked onto the man before him.
His voice dropped to a commanding whisper.
"I, William of House Medici… command you."
The vendor blinked.
Once.
Then the light in his eyes faded—
Replaced by a dull, lifeless haze.