Silas slowly rose to his feet, his eyes scanning the vast circular chamber he had just emerged into. The air was thick, charged with an ancient energy that pressed down on his shoulders like a heavy cloak.
The walls were covered in intricate carvings, symbols he didn't immediately recognize. Spiraling patterns stretched into the darkness of the domed ceiling, while faint glimmers of light traced the lines woven across the floor, forming a massive mural beneath his boots.
Silas took a few cautious steps forward, the sound of his footsteps echoing softly. He knew he wasn't alone. Not yet, at least.
He stopped at the center of the chamber, where a perfect circle bore an ancient symbol — the pupil-less eye. The same mark that still faintly burned at the base of his neck.
"So this is where you wanted to lead me…" he muttered, as if speaking directly to the grimoire, though it no longer physically rested in his possession.
A faint breeze stirred, though there were no visible openings.
The temple was breathing.
Silas began to trace the carvings with his fingertips, the symbols humming softly at his touch.
"This place is ancient, master. Older than Mortelune itself." The grimoire's voice echoed within his mind, smooth and deep.
"I figured as much…" Silas replied aloud, letting his hand glide across the relief. "But why were those soldiers dead before they could even reach this room?"
Silence was his only answer.
He continued forward, his gaze flickering to each corner of the chamber. Yet something nagged at him.
There was no exit.
Silas turned in a slow circle. No doors, no hidden passageways. He was trapped, with no way forward or back — the corridor he had come from now sealed, erased by the temple's shifting architecture.
Tension crept into his muscles.
"So, this is a prison?"
"No… a trial."
Before he could press further, the ground beneath his feet trembled. The carvings glowed with a crimson light, and the walls began to shift, the patterns slowly swirling around the circumference of the room.
Silas instinctively stepped back, drawing the short silver blade hidden beneath his coat.
"It was too quiet…"
Suddenly, the center of the circle fractured. A blinding light burst from the cracks, gradually forming into the shape of a humanoid figure.
As the light faded, a creature stood before him.
It resembled a warrior, but its body appeared to be sculpted from black stone veined with glowing energy. Its face was smooth, featureless, except for a single radiant eye etched into the middle of its forehead. In its hands rested a massive halberd, the blade gleaming with the same energy that pulsed through the walls.
Silas raised an eyebrow slightly.
"A guardian… of course."
The temple would not give up its secrets without resistance.
The stone warrior slowly lifted its weapon, and the air grew heavier, as if even drawing breath had become a challenge.
Silas shifted into a defensive stance, tightening his grip on his blade, ready for the trial ahead.
The Temple of the Obsidian Blade had yet to reveal all its mysteries.
***
The stone guardian stood motionless, an imposing and silent presence. Yet Silas could feel the tension in the air — raw, untamed power ready to strike at the slightest provocation.
The glowing veins coursing through the guardian's body pulsed faintly, casting an eerie light across the circular chamber. The massive halberd in its hands shimmered with crimson energy, reflecting against the polished stone floor.
Silas tightened his grip on the short sword at his side, his gaze locked on the single, pupil-less eye carved into the guardian's forehead.
Then, the guardian moved.
The first strike came faster than Silas expected. The halberd tore through the air in a brutal arc, crashing into the ground where Silas had stood a heartbeat before. Shards of stone erupted from the impact, scattering across the chamber.
"Damn…"
From that first exchange, Silas knew. This thing wasn't just a mindless automaton. It wielded strength far beyond what he'd faced in years.
Silas circled the guardian, staying light on his feet, but he knew one thing for certain — a direct confrontation would end badly.
The halberd rose again. Silas ducked and deflected the strike with his blade, the impact reverberating through his arms like a hammer on an anvil.
Seizing the brief opening, he lashed out, his sword slicing toward the guardian's side.
CLANG.
The blade bounced harmlessly off the stone.
Silas immediately backed away, eyes narrowing.
"Not even a scratch…"
The guardian showed no signs of damage.
Silas extended his free hand, conjuring a small sphere of red energy. Without hesitation, he aimed his finger at the creature.
"Fire Bullet."
The orb shot forward, colliding with the guardian's chest in a burst of flame.
As the smoke cleared, the guardian remained — untouched and unmoving.
No effect.
The guardian advanced, halberd once again cutting through the air with devastating force. Silas danced around each strike, deflecting where he could, but the force behind every blow left his muscles trembling.
Sweat dripped down his temple, and his breathing grew heavier.
"I can't keep this up…"
He stepped back, buying himself a moment to think.
"Use me, master…"
The grimoire's voice echoed in his mind, soft yet commanding.
Silas hesitated.
Each time he drew on the book's power, he edged closer to something he didn't fully understand.
But there was no other option.
"Fine… Show me."
Closing his eyes, Silas let the grimoire's energy seep into his veins like molten fire. When he opened them again, the world looked different.
The guardian's form became clearer, sharper — and that's when he saw it.
A crack.
It was faint, almost imperceptible, running just below the glowing eye in the center of the guardian's chest.
Its weakness.
Silas stepped back, gauging the distance.
He flipped his grip on the short sword, holding it by the blade like a spear.
The guardian advanced, halberd raised high.
Silas extended his right hand, drawing an arc through the air with his index finger.
A thin line of flames emerged where his finger passed, widening into a bow of fire suspended before him.
He placed the short sword within the bow, steadying his aim.
Heat rippled around him, but his gaze remained fixed on the target.
"Burning Edge."
The name escaped his lips like an incantation.
The sword ignited, flames swirling around the blade as he released it.
The weapon shot forward, silent and swift, spinning as it sliced through the air.
The blade struck the guardian's weak point directly.
A low, resonant crack echoed through the chamber.
The glowing veins across the guardian's body dimmed as fractures spread rapidly along its stone surface.
Slowly, the guardian crumbled, breaking apart into smoldering fragments before vanishing entirely in a cloud of ash.
Silas approached carefully, kneeling to retrieve his sword from the ground, still faintly warm to the touch.
He twirled it once in his hand, exhaling softly over the blade.
"Burning Edge…" he murmured, staring into the empty space where the guardian had stood.
The temple fell silent once more, but Silas knew this was only the beginning.
The heart of the temple still beat.