As the glowing crystals dimmed and the chamber returned to its usual stillness, Thorin couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest. The figure's words echoed in his mind—This is only the beginning. He clenched his fists, feeling the energy of the Bloodfire simmering beneath his skin. The power was his to command, but with it came a gnawing question: What did that figure mean by "learning" and why did it feel so familiar?
Thorin slowly made his way out of the chamber, his mind still racing from the recent encounter. Every step echoed in the cavernous space, and the fortress itself seemed to be watching, waiting for his next move. The quiet was unnerving, yet there was a strange comfort in the solitude.
As Thorin emerged from the tunnel, he found himself back in the main corridor of the fortress. The oppressive weight of the place returned, but now there was something more—an unfamiliar sensation tugging at his senses. He paused, scanning the area, but there was no visible threat. Yet he knew something was there. Watching.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.
For a moment, there was nothing. No response, no movement. And then, just as Thorin was about to dismiss it as paranoia, a soft whisper filled the air.
"Thorin…"
The voice was faint, almost ethereal, but unmistakably real. It wasn't coming from any direction; it was as if the fortress itself was speaking to him. Thorin's muscles tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon. But as he stood there, ready for a fight, the whisper came again, this time louder, more insistent.
"Thorin… you're not alone."
A chill ran down his spine. The voice felt oddly familiar, but he couldn't place it. It wasn't the figure from before, nor any of the trials he had faced. This was something different—something older.
"Show yourself," Thorin demanded, his voice steady but his heart racing.
The whisper faded, leaving behind a tense silence. Thorin strained his senses, but there was no sign of the source. Whatever it was, it was toying with him, testing his resolve. But Thorin wasn't one to back down.
Taking a deep breath, he continued forward, determined to find the source of the voice. As he walked, the corridor began to change, the once familiar stone walls shifting into something new. The darkness that had been a constant companion was now broken by strange, glowing symbols etched into the walls. They pulsed with a faint light, like a heartbeat, guiding him deeper into the fortress.
Thorin's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the symbols. They were ancient, older than anything he had seen before, and they filled him with an unsettling sense of recognition, as though he had seen them in a forgotten dream.
The voice returned, more insistent now, echoing through the hall.
"You've forgotten… but you will remember."
The words sent a jolt of recognition through him, though he couldn't explain why. Thorin quickened his pace, following the glowing symbols as they led him to a large, ornate door at the end of the corridor. The door was covered in the same strange runes he had seen before, but these were larger, more detailed, and pulsed with a deeper, more powerful light.
He hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the door's power pressing against him. But there was no turning back. He pushed the door open, the heavy stone grinding against the floor, and stepped inside.
The room beyond was vast, far larger than any chamber he had seen in the fortress so far. The ceiling was lost in shadow, and the air was thick with an ancient energy that seemed to hum with life. In the center of the room stood a massive stone altar, and above it, floating in midair, was a single red crystal, glowing with an intense, fiery light.
The moment Thorin laid eyes on the crystal, memories surged through him—flashes of a past he didn't remember, a time when he was different, when he was more than just a hunter. His heart raced as the memories flooded in, disjointed and fragmented, but undeniably real.
He saw himself standing in a field of blood, his enemies falling before him, consumed by his Bloodfire. He saw the shadowy figure from before, but this time it was beside him, not an enemy, but a companion. And then he saw the crystal, the same one that floated before him now, burning with the same red light that coursed through his veins.
The voice returned, louder than before, as if speaking directly into his mind. "The power you wield… it is not yours alone. It is a gift, a curse, passed down through the ages. You are the last of your kind, Thorin. The last SSS-Class Power Hunter."
Thorin staggered back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The weight of the revelation hit him like a hammer. He wasn't just a hunter in the fortress. He was something far more, something tied to the very power that burned within him.
As he stood there, struggling to comprehend the truth, the crystal began to glow brighter, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He could feel it calling to him, beckoning him to take it, to claim the power that was rightfully his.
With trembling hands, Thorin reached out, his fingers brushing against the surface of the crystal. The moment he made contact, a surge of energy shot through him, far stronger than anything he had felt before. His Bloodfire flared up, consuming him in a torrent of power that threatened to tear him apart.
But Thorin didn't let go. He held on, his body shaking as the power coursed through him, reshaping him, remaking him into something stronger, something unstoppable.
When the light finally faded, Thorin stood there, panting, his body crackling with energy. He had passed another trial, but this time, he had gained something far more than just survival.
He had unlocked a part of his past. A part of himself.
But the fortress wasn't done with him yet.
To be continued...