As Thorin moved further into the depths of the fortress, a sense of foreboding settled over him. The fortress was shifting again, its layout changing as if to disorient and confuse him. The air was thick, and the faint glow from his Bloodfire cast long, flickering shadows on the walls. He felt as though the very structure of the fortress was watching him, learning from his every move.
Each step echoed through the seemingly endless halls, and Thorin's mind wandered to the figure from before. Its words haunted him. Even the greatest hunters fall when they grow too confident. He hated to admit it, but there was truth in the statement. In this world of unknown dangers, confidence could easily turn to arrogance—and arrogance could lead to his downfall.
Thorin stopped abruptly. Ahead, the corridor opened into another chamber. But this one was different from the previous rooms. It was larger, and the air felt heavier, almost oppressive. At the center of the room was a strange, circular mirror, its surface shimmering like liquid.
As he approached, the mirror rippled, and an image began to form. Thorin's breath caught in his throat as he saw himself reflected in the mirror—but it wasn't just a reflection. It was a younger version of him, back when he was at the peak of his strength as an SSS-Class hunter. His face was hard, his eyes cold, and his body radiated an aura of unmatched power.
The younger Thorin stared at him through the mirror, his expression unreadable. "You've gotten weaker," the reflection said, its voice a chilling echo of his own.
Thorin's fists clenched, his eyes narrowing. "I haven't lost my strength," he growled. "I'm getting it back."
The reflection smirked, shaking its head. "You were once the strongest, but now? You're just a shadow of who you were. Do you really think this power can make you whole again?"
Thorin's Bloodfire flared to life around him, but the reflection didn't react. Instead, it stepped forward, passing through the mirror and into the real world. Thorin took a step back, shocked by the sudden manifestation.
The reflection circled him, its gaze sharp and calculating. "You think you can reclaim your power, but you've forgotten what it means to fight at your best. You've lost your edge."
Thorin's jaw tightened. "I haven't forgotten anything," he snapped. "I've survived, and I'll keep getting stronger."
The reflection stopped in front of him, eyes burning with intensity. "Then prove it," it said before lunging at him with a speed that took Thorin by surprise.
Thorin barely had time to react before the younger version of himself was upon him, throwing a barrage of powerful strikes. His body moved on instinct, dodging and blocking the blows, but each hit sent shockwaves through his arms. This wasn't just an ordinary fight—it was a battle against his own past, against the version of himself that had once stood at the pinnacle of power.
The reflection was faster, more ruthless, and every attack was precise, aimed at exploiting any weakness. Thorin gritted his teeth, focusing his Bloodfire to enhance his speed and strength, but the reflection anticipated his every move, countering with terrifying efficiency.
"You're still too slow," the reflection sneered, landing a powerful blow to Thorin's side, sending him crashing into the stone wall.
Pain shot through Thorin's body, but he forced himself to stand. The reflection watched him with disdain, as if daring him to try again. "Is this all the great Thorin has to offer? You've grown soft."
Thorin wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes burning with defiance. "You don't know anything about what I've been through. I've faced death more times than I can count. I've fought and survived in ways you can't imagine."
The reflection chuckled darkly. "And yet, you're still weaker than me."
That was it. Thorin's Bloodfire erupted around him, the red energy crackling like lightning. He wasn't going to let this twisted version of himself get the better of him. With a roar, he charged forward, unleashing a flurry of strikes fueled by both his power and determination.
The reflection met him blow for blow, but this time, Thorin wasn't fighting for survival. He was fighting for dominance. He tapped into his instincts, the lessons he had learned from countless battles, and channeled all his rage, his will to overcome.
The room echoed with the sounds of their clash, the intensity growing with every strike. Thorin's mind cleared as he focused solely on the fight. His body moved faster, his attacks growing more precise. He was pushing himself beyond his limits, refusing to give in.
With a final surge of power, Thorin landed a devastating blow to the reflection's chest, sending it skidding across the floor. The reflection coughed, struggling to rise as it glared at him. But Thorin wasn't finished. He summoned the Bloodfire, concentrating its energy into a single, powerful strike.
The reflection tried to block, but Thorin's attack shattered its defenses. The blow connected, and the reflection let out a final cry before disintegrating into a cloud of red energy, fading back into the mirror.
Thorin stood there, breathing heavily, his body aching from the battle. The room was silent once more, the mirror now still and dark. He had won, but the fight had taken its toll. The reflection's words echoed in his mind. You've gotten weaker.
He shook his head, pushing the doubt aside. No. He wasn't weaker. He was getting stronger, one step at a time. This trial had tested not just his strength but his resolve. He had faced his past, and he had come out on top.
But there was still more to be done. The fortress wasn't finished with him yet.
With a deep breath, Thorin turned toward the exit, ready for whatever lay ahead. The next trial awaited, and he would face it head-on.
To be continued...