'The next test will test how far you're willing to go to protect the Royal Family.'
Ravenn, Astoria, and Rudolph disappeared behind the haze.
Jered eyed the room he was in warily—though it could hardly be called a 'room' anymore. The walls melted like candle wax, and so did the ground. His feet sunk into the white goo that the tiles had become; he was not the only one either. And before any of them could register what was happening, they screamed. A searing, unbearable pain crawled up from their feet up to their legs. The world around them had become an inferno. Literally.
A strong tang of sulfur bathed Jered's face. All around them was a crimson wasteland, an ashy sky, and magma.
And as high as his pain threshold was, he couldn't help but tremble and grunt at the stings of pain.
Jered gritted his teeth, struggling to move forward, but that was useless. The sea of magma was endless, prickling and burning his skin. There was one unusuality he noticed, however. And it was that no matter how much he 'burned', he didn't sustain any damage. All he felt was pain. Waves upon waves of white-hot, sizzling pain. As if he were being deep-fried.
"The pain you're feeling is an illusion. Your body won't be scathed, but your mind just might," Ravenn's cheerful voice boomed out from the sky, "To pass this test, you have to stay in that burning mire for one hour, minimum. Naturally, you're free to quit anytime you wish. However, if you do fail this test, there'll never be another chance for you to join the Royal Guards. With that being said, good luck!"
The voice disappeared, and Jered sank further in the viscous liquid. His breathing came out in ragged bursts, coughing every now and then due to the volcanic ash.
An hourglass hovered in the air, each grain of sand trickling down so agonizingly slow.
"I quit, please! L-LET ME OUT!"
Someone yelled at the top of their lungs. Jered stared at the source of the voice, only to see a burly man—clothed in heavy, silvery armor—disappear in a swirl of lights.
Jered didn't criticize the man for quitting so early; actually, he sympathized with him. He had suffered injuries of all kinds while in Hell, so he thought no amount of pain would make him so... mentally weak, and long to give up.
'Come on, Jered. You can do this! Don't fucking give up!' He told himself, repeatedly, like a mantra.
Screams, grunts, moans, and cries reverberated throughout the wasteland, and Jered was briefly reminded of his time in the First Circle of Hell.
He wished Cleopatra was there to keep his mind off of the pain. She was a mortal, way weaker than him, but he had no doubt that she could endure such torturous treatment with dignity and elegance. Something he was clearly failing at. He balled his hands into fists, but that caused even more pain, so he stood still, eyes closed and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
"H-Hey... you're h-holding on pretty good," a feminine voice, strained by the twinges of pain, rang out next to him.
Jered turned his head around to face the woman that just spoke. She was quite short and young, at least in terms of appearance. Her mana fluctuation placed her comfortably at the Elder-Tier, though she didn't cut the figure of a Magician, much less that of a Swordmaster. She had a pale face, with freckles spread across her nose, and cider-colored hair. The shade reminded him of Klava, but considerably darker.
"In what world am I holding on 'pretty good'?" he instinctively shot back sarcastically.
The scorching pain biting at his skin made it hard to keep his mouth shut.
The woman weathered through the pain and managed a helpless shrug, "You're still doing better than all of us," and that was true, considering he wasn't screaming his lungs out.
Jered looked up at the hourglass and groaned. Barely a few minutes had gone by since the second trial started.
"You're doing quite good yourself," he said, biting back another grunt of pain.
"I QUIT! I QUIT!"
Another examinee yelled, and was promptly kicked out of the trial in a burst of lights.
"I'm used to being tortured, but this is too much..." she admitted, each word accompanied by a squeal of pain, "If this is the second test, I wonder how hard the last one will be..."
Jered heaved a deep breath in and cast 'Physical Enhancement' on himself, which was practically useless since everything was an illusion. Which meant... if he could see through the illusion, maybe he'd be able to abate the pain—and maybe even stop it altogether. It was an idea that lacked thought, especially since the illusion was cast by someone stronger than him by two entire tiers, but it was worth trying.
"I can't quit now, I can't quit now, I can't quit now..." he heard the woman chant in a low voice, her face scrunched up and clammy with sweat. The agony clearly made her war with herself on whether to call it quits or soldier on.
It was not a test about skills, but sheer willpower. That's why Jered wondered if Ravenn would notice that he was up to something. Would that be cheating anyway? A quick look around told him that he was not the only one who thought about using skills or spells to ward off the pain. He shifted his 'Physical Enhancement' up to his brain. His eyes pricked, the crimson hues glowing brighter. His Ethereal Shadow Eyes allowed him to see the mana threads that made up the illusion.
The issue was that, unlike the prior test, the so-called 'threads' were not external. They were not locked in a cage.
The mana threads were woven inside them, directly around the frontal lobe and the sensory cortex of their brains.
It was not something Jered could simply undo by brute-forcing his way through. He didn't know if side effects would occur should he forcefully dispel and break those threads.
'How troublesome.'
He probed the foreign threads with his mana, and as he expected, they didn't yield.
There was no way out of that pain.
----
"Out of 17, 5 have quit," Ravenn said positively, "It's not that bad."
"It's only been 20 minutes, Rav," Astoria shook her head, disappointed, "It will be a miracle if only 5 make it to the next test."
Rudolph stroked his long beard thoughtfully, "At least we know that two of them will certainly pass."
Ravenn chuckled, "I'm glad we're on the same page. Jered is enduring well, and that girl next to him is doing wonderfully too."
"She's familiar, but I don't seem to recognize her."
"He's Duke Fireborn's eldest daughter. She's 31 this year, and she's an Elder-Tier that specializes in swordsmanship and magic. An amazing talent for sure, and someone that we could use greatly. Rudolph, if you see that she's about to quit, lower the pain's intensity on her."
"That would go against this test's purpose," Rudolph had a disapproving look as he said so.
"I know, but she's the Duke's first daughter; someone he deeply treasures. And she's talented too. It would be quite sad if we let a gem like her slip by without doing anything about it."
"This is why I hate nobility..."
"My sentiments exactly," Astoria sighed as she stared at the screen in front of them. It was right then that another examinee flailed like a fish out of water and begged to be released from the pain. She waved her hand, and a trail of sparkling lights took him out of the Royal Palace, "This batch is quite unsightly. Can't believe that some kids are doing better than those guys."
"I told you, my dear Astoria. That's some exceptional talent right there; you can't compare them to those fools. They would have shone even in the batch of examinees 25 years ago. History praises the ones who stand above others."
"Considering that some of those fools might end up joining us, I'm allowed to be skeptical," Astoria scoffed.
"If there's someone you're not happy with, we can make them lose. We have the power to do so."
She sighed, "Yes, but this test is supposed to be 'fair' for everyone involved. We're the Royal Guards; we shouldn't be pulling some cheap tricks like that. If they pass all the tests, then it just means they're qualified, and we shouldn't interfere with that due to personal grudges or favoritism."
"Why not? If we deem any of them unworthy, we're fully authorized to kick them out. Whoever we accept, will work for the crown. That's not a job you can take light-heartedly. Discipline, talent, loyalty, the drive to improve... that's what we seek in the perfect candidate. And so far, we have found two such gems. It would be foolish to not give them a chance, should they need it!"
Astoria looked at Rudolph for help, but the latter had an impassive expression on his face.
"Oh, come on! You both know that the Royal Family needs as many talents as possible—don't forget what's brewing in the horizon! And that's not even taking into account the fight for succession!" Ravenn was determined to change their minds, "Having reliable, powerful warriors under us would lighten our workload. We have to select them carefully!"
"I'm not saying you're—"
"You're not saying I'm right either, and it's fine. You don't have to see it the way I do, as long as you're willing to look at the big picture here," Ravenn waved her off, "It's okay to have some morals, but you have to stay in the line between right and wrong. Don't side with either; choose the one that will benefit you the most."
Astoria dipped her head low, denoting that she was reflecting about the whole ordeal.
Ravenn stared at the hourglass, "30 more minutes to go. Don't forget what I said. If any of you see they're about to give up, give them an extra push. They're young. They deserve it."
----
Jered wished he had become numb to the pain, but there was no such thing in that illusion. That was all that he was allowed to feel. He couldn't faint, block it out, or abate it. Lucy would surely be proud of such ingenious torture method; she had a huge kink for it. The woman next to him had tears in her eyes. She was crying, screaming, struggling, yet she was not giving up. Jered respected that. And it made him briefly wonder why she would put herself under such a thing just to join the Royal Guards. She looked quite well-off, at least by going off of her clothes.
Time ticked by slowly, as if the hour would never end.
He heard a few more people quit, but that was it. After that, only 7 people remained—Jered and the mysterious woman included. No one else thought it wise to quit, certainly not after the 30 minute mark. It would have not been worth it at that point.
"If we both pass this test," the woman next to him began through gritted teeth and determined eyes, "We'll become best friends!"
"..."
Surely, she wasn't serious?
"And if we both make it to the Royal Guards, we'll become the bestest friends there'll ever be!" somehow, she managed to pump a fist in the air.
Why? Just why? He barely talked to her!
"I don't even know you..."
"Ahem! Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Stacy Fireborn, Duke Fireborn's favorite daughter!"
He blinked at her, "Who's Duke Fireborn?"
"You don't know who my father is?!" she gasped, and it was not out of pain, "Where do you even come from?"
"Well... not from here, obviously..."
"What's your name?"
"I'm Jered."
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "How odd. I think I've heard it somewhere. Nevermind. That's a great name, as expected of my best friend."
"We're not friends yet," he rebutted, not happy with the direction of their conversation.
"We'll be soon!" Stacy had a silly smile on her face. It was incredible how in the midst of all that agony, she was still able to find a sliver of cheerfulness. That was something Jered couldn't achieve, "You're the only one who's closest to me in age! And you're more powerful than me too! Scratch that, we won't be friends, we shall be rivals!"
"..."
Jered all of a sudden wondered what the consequences of killing a fellow examinee were.