Chapter 104: Between Blades and Truths
The stone gate behind them sealed with a soft hum, the sound echoing into the silence that followed.
The second trial had ended.
But its effects lingered.
Isaac leaned against the wall just outside the sealed chamber, one hand gripping the hilt of the cracked Silverveil blade. The other hung loosely at his side, his breathing calm but deliberate.
Two fragments now resonated within him—not just pieces of a weapon, but of something deeper.
Movement.
Purpose.
Legacy.
Sylvalen stood a short distance away, quietly adjusting her gloves. The light of the tomb cast soft lines of silver across her face, and her usual composure had softened—if only slightly.
She glanced his way. "You didn't speak much during the fight."
"I was focused," Isaac replied.
She nodded, then after a beat added, "Still, I noticed something."
Isaac turned his head toward her. "What?"
"You held back."
He didn't deny it.
"Yeah. I did."
A pause passed between them—not tense, but thoughtful.
"Why?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
Isaac stared at the faint glow of the cracked blade as it pulsed in rhythm with his breath.
"Because I didn't want to win with brute force. I've done that before. I've ended fights before they began, crushed enemies without learning anything about myself. I didn't come here to prove that I'm strong."
He looked up at her.
"I came here to become someone who deserves the power I've already taken."
Sylvalen met his gaze, studying him as if seeing him anew.
"That," she said gently, "is the kind of strength most people never even try to understand."
He chuckled lightly. "Didn't expect a compliment from the Ninth Princess."
"Then you haven't been paying attention," she said with a faint smirk.
She walked over and sat down beside him, her shoulder close to his but not quite touching.
"Truth is… I've been watching since Velkarth. And I kept asking myself—why someone as powerful as you still tries so hard to be human."
Isaac looked away, exhaling. "Because if I don't, I know exactly what I'll become."
He let the silence stretch for a moment.
"A weapon."
Sylvalen nodded slowly. "Takeshi fought the gods, not because he hated them—but because they tried to chain the world to fear. And here you are, afraid of becoming the very thing he died fighting."
Isaac gave her a small smile. "Maybe I'm in the right place, then."
"You are."
Another moment passed, this one quieter. Calmer.
Then Sylvalen looked up toward the faintly glowing arch ahead.
The third trial gate.
"I don't know what waits in there," she said. "But if it asks us to choose between power and compassion…"
She looked at him again.
"I hope we fail by choosing right."
Isaac tilted his head. "Since when does an elf princess talk like a philosopher?"
"Since I stopped pretending I didn't care."
Isaac stood slowly, offering her a hand. She took it, rising with graceful ease.
They didn't let go right away.
Neither of them rushed the moment.
But eventually, Sylvalen pulled her hand back, tucking it behind her back with quiet elegance.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Yeah."
The third flame gate pulsed as they approached.
The inscription above it shimmered in midair:
"You have seen yourselves.Now face what you have forgotten."
Isaac narrowed his eyes. "Sounds like memories."
Sylvalen frowned. "Maybe not ours."
The arch flared once with soft, moonlike light.
And together, they stepped through.