The air in the hidden chamber was thick — ancient, unmoving.
The faint hum of the war trial above dimmed to a distant roar. Here, in the earth's belly, only the altar breathed.
Kael stepped closer.
A ring of dragonbone spikes encircled the stone dais, each one etched with sigils too old for modern tongues. But Kael understood them.
He didn't know how.
He only knew that something inside the altar pulsed with the same rhythm as the shard in his satchel — like two pieces of the same broken heart.
Do not touch it, a voice in his head warned.
You are not ready.
But ready had never been an option for him.
---
Above ground, Ryn and his team had already crushed three enemy units. Cheers followed them like banners. One professor marked them as "likely winners."
But far below, Kael stood on the edge of something no one else had dared find.
Naya whispered, "This doesn't feel like the last altar."
Kael didn't answer.
The glyphs on the bone pillars were glowing faintly now, responding to his presence. And then—
"He found it," a voice growled from the shadows.
Kael spun.
From the far end of the chamber stepped a summoned construct — a guardian of bone and writhing shadow. No illusion. This was real.
Its face was split open — a jaw of ash and embers. Chains rattled around its wrists, dragging behind it like rusted thunder.
A Wraithbound Sentinel.
Not part of the trial.
Not meant for anyone to face.
The professors had no idea it was here.
---
"Run," Kael said, stepping forward.
But Naya didn't move. Neither did the healer girl, eyes wide with horror. The creature raised its hand — and spears of bone erupted from the ground.
Kael jumped forward, dragging Naya aside just in time.
One spear sliced his side.
Blood sprayed.
But something inside him… changed.
The wound glowed for a second. Just briefly.
Then closed.
Kael blinked.
Naya stared at him. "You healed."
"I didn't," he whispered.
Something else did.
---
The creature charged.
Kael's instincts sharpened unnaturally — his vision slowed. He could see the creature's strikes before they landed, feel the pressure in the air as claws ripped toward him.
He moved with grace he shouldn't have — not this early in his training.
Dodged. Slid. Countered.
One of the bone chains snapped free.
But the beast was relentless.
Kael grabbed one of the fallen bone spears and rolled between the wraith's legs, jabbing upward into its exposed ribs. The spear cracked. The creature roared, staggering—
And in that second—
Kael's eyes flared silver.
Just once.
Just enough.
The beast froze.
As if recognizing him.
Then it bowed.
And crumbled to ash.
---
The altar behind him pulsed louder — as if rewarding the display.
But Kael stumbled.
His chest burned.
Naya caught him. "What just happened to you?"
"I don't know," Kael gasped. "But I think it saw me. Really saw me."
And he wasn't talking about the beast.
He looked at the altar.
It was… opening.
---
Inside the stone, wrapped in scaled linen and gold-wire seals, sat a sword — or what was left of it.
A hilt.
And a blade broken halfway through.
Yet it bled light.
Not just any light.
Moonfire.
The power of the gods.
Kael reached for it — and the second his fingers touched the grip, a brand ignited on his palm.
His entire body convulsed.
A scream tore from his lungs — the kind born from lifetimes of agony — and the seal on his soul cracked.
---
Far above, Lioren stopped mid-sentence during a faculty debrief.
He felt it.
Eyes wide, he turned toward the ruins.
"…What in the name of the stars is that boy doing?"
---
Kael collapsed.
The sword — or what remained of it — was now bound to his aura.
In the silence, Naya dropped to her knees beside him.
His skin steamed. His breath trembled. But he was alive.
Changed.
Marked.
The altar had accepted him.
And far away, the gods whispered once more:
The devourer stirs.
The blood remembers.
The world will burn.