The jungle loomed ahead like a living wall, its towering trees and dense foliage forming a canopy so thick that it blocked out the sun. The new destination burned brightly in Sylas's mind, an unrelenting beacon urging him forward.
With his sword strapped securely to his back, Sylas pushed into the undergrowth. The warm hum of the blade was a steady presence, a strange comfort in a world that seemed to want him dead at every turn.
The energy he had absorbed from the beast still lingered in his veins, sharpening his senses and bolstering his strength. But it also brought questions—questions he had no answers to.
He clenched his fists, feeling the residual warmth of the orb's power. What am I turning into?
The jungle was alive with sounds: the rustling of leaves, the distant calls of strange creatures, and the occasional guttural roar that sent shivers down Sylas's spine. The terrain grew more treacherous with every step, the ground uneven and littered with roots and vines.
As he moved, Sylas noticed subtle changes in his surroundings. The air grew heavier, laced with an unidentifiable tension. The plants were larger and more vibrant, their colors almost unnaturally vivid. The creatures he spotted from the corner of his eye were strange amalgamations of species he recognized—an insect with bird-like wings, a snake with fur.
This part of the jungle was different, more primal. It felt older, as if untouched by time.
The mark on his hand pulsed faintly, guiding him forward.
Hours passed as Sylas pressed deeper into the jungle. He paused occasionally to drink from streams or eat the strange, edible fruits he'd learned to identify. Survival had become second nature, but the constant vigilance weighed on him.
As he pushed through a particularly thick cluster of vines, he stumbled into a clearing—and froze.
At the center of the clearing was a massive structure, partially buried beneath layers of earth and vegetation. It resembled a temple, its stone walls carved with intricate symbols that glowed faintly in the dim light.
The mark on Sylas's hand burned brightly, and the whispers in his mind returned.
"Enter."
Sylas hesitated. The structure radiated an overwhelming sense of power and danger, as though it were alive and waiting for him.
He took a cautious step forward, then another, until he was standing before the temple's entrance.
The interior of the temple was dark and cold, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and ancient decay. The faint glow of the symbols on the walls provided the only light, casting eerie shadows that danced with every step Sylas took.
The whispers grew louder, guiding him deeper into the structure.
The passageway opened into a massive chamber, its ceiling disappearing into darkness. At the center of the room was a pedestal, identical to the one where Sylas had found the sword.
But this time, the pedestal was empty.
Sylas frowned, stepping closer. The mark on his hand flared, and the whispers in his mind coalesced into a single, clear phrase:
"Prove your worth."
Before Sylas could react, the room trembled, and a deafening roar echoed through the chamber.
From the shadows emerged a creature unlike any Sylas had faced before. It was massive, its body a hulking mass of muscle and bone covered in jagged, stone-like plates. Its glowing, amber eyes locked onto Sylas, and it let out another earth-shaking roar.
Sylas instinctively reached for his sword, drawing it in one fluid motion. The blade hummed with energy, the symbols along its length flaring to life.
The creature charged, moving with surprising speed for its size. Sylas rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the beast's claws as they gouged deep trenches into the stone floor.
The fight was on.
The creature was relentless, its attacks powerful and unyielding. Sylas dodged and weaved, his enhanced reflexes keeping him just ahead of the monster's deadly strikes.
He countered when he could, his sword slicing into the beast's tough hide. Sparks flew as blade met armor-like plates, and Sylas gritted his teeth in frustration. The creature was nearly impervious to his attacks.
Think, Sylas, he told himself, circling the beast. It has to have a weak point.
The mark on his hand flared again, and time seemed to slow. Sylas's eyes focused on the beast's movements, and he noticed something—a faint glow emanating from the gaps between its armored plates.
The chest.
"That's it," Sylas muttered, gripping his sword tightly.
He waited for the beast to charge again, his muscles coiled like a spring. As the creature lunged, Sylas sidestepped and drove his sword into the glowing spot on its chest.
The blade pierced through the armor, sinking deep into the beast's flesh.
The creature let out a pained roar, its body convulsing as energy surged through it. Sylas twisted the sword, and with a final, guttural growl, the beast collapsed.
Sylas staggered back, his chest heaving. The chamber was silent once more, save for the faint hum of his sword.
As the creature's body dissolved into wisps of energy, a familiar sight appeared—a glowing orb, identical to the one he had absorbed before.
The whispers returned, soft and insistent: "Claim it."
Sylas reached out, his fingers brushing against the orb. The energy flowed into him, and a surge of power coursed through his body.
This time, the sensation was stronger, more overwhelming. Sylas felt his muscles tighten, his senses sharpen, and his mind expand.
When the light faded, he stood taller, stronger, and more aware.
The pedestal at the center of the chamber began to glow, and a new symbol appeared on its surface.
The whispers spoke again: "The path to Ascension is long, but you have taken another step. Return to the jungle, and seek the next Fragment."
Sylas stared at the glowing pedestal, his mind racing.
He sheathed his sword and turned back toward the temple's entrance.
The Trial was far from over, but Sylas was no longer the same. Each challenge pushed him closer to the truth—and to the power he would need to survive.
In the depths of the ancient temple, Sylas had proven his worth. But the jungle still held its secrets, and the Trial's true purpose remained shrouded in mystery.