The mountain tested them in every way. The cold grew unbearable, the winds howling like vengeful spirits. The ground beneath their feet cracked, forcing them to leap across chasms and climb sheer cliffs of ice. Visions of their darkest fears appeared in the storm, taunting them.
Caelum saw the faces of those he had failed—his village, his mentor, his family. The cursed sword whispered to him, offering power in exchange for surrender. "Give in," it urged. "You cannot save them."
But Caelum resisted, focusing on the shard's light, which pulsed faintly in his hand. "I won't let you control me," he muttered, pressing forward.
Lyra faced visions of betrayal—friends turning against her, accusing her of cowardice. But she pushed through, fueled by her determination to prove them wrong.
Garik, burdened by the ghosts of his past battles, struggled the most. At one point, he collapsed, overwhelmed by guilt. "I've failed too many times," he said, his voice breaking.
Caelum knelt beside him. "You haven't failed us. We need you, Garik. Don't let the mountain win."
With Caelum's encouragement, Garik rose, and the trio continued together.