The other him — that strange reflection — continued to watch from the far end of the chamber.
The silence was suffocating.
Every detail of this figure was flawless. No trace of exhaustion, no scars, as if he were a perfected version of himself — or perhaps what he could have been if years of battle hadn't left their mark.
"Who are you?" Silas asked, his voice echoing across the circular room.
The reflection did not answer.
It took a single step forward, and at that moment, Silas felt it — an invisible weight crashing down on his shoulders. A force, crushing and unrelenting, as if the very act of existing in this room drained him of his strength.
He clenched his jaw.
"Alright… I get it."
A test.
The temple wasn't just gauging his physical strength. It wanted to weigh his soul.
The other Silas drew a sword identical to his own.
A cold shiver ran down Silas's spine at the sight. He knew instinctively this would not be a normal fight.
"If that's how it is…"
He shifted into a defensive stance, watching the shadow's every move.
The attack came swiftly.
The double lunged forward without warning, his blade slashing downward in a sharp arc. Silas raised his sword to block, but the force behind the blow was far greater than expected.
The impact sent him skidding backward.
"He hits hard…" Silas growled, steadying his stance.
The shadow gave him no reprieve. It was already upon him, unleashing a relentless flurry of precise, deadly strikes. Silas blocked and deflected as best he could, but each clash felt heavier, as though the weight behind the strikes grew with every exchange.
This was more than just a fight.
With every strike, Silas felt something else — memories.
Fragments of doubt, regret, and past failures resurfaced with each clash of their blades.
The temple wasn't just testing his strength. It was digging into his mind, prying into his weaknesses and turning them against him.
A flicker of anger sparked within him.
He leaped back, widening the gap between himself and his opponent.
This was not a test he intended to lose.
"No more games."
Silas closed his eyes briefly, allowing the grimoire's power to pulse through his veins.
When he opened them again, a faint red glow flickered in his gaze, and the ring on his finger hummed softly.
The shadow hesitated, as if momentarily unsure.
"This temple can test whatever it wants… but it won't break me."
Silas raised his blade, tracing a circle in the air with its tip.
A thin trail of red energy followed the motion.
The shadow lunged again, but this time, Silas was ready.
He twisted his blade in a fluid arc, redirecting the shadow's strike and slipping behind it.
In the same motion, he extended his free hand, conjuring a glowing red sphere.
"Fire Bullet."
The sphere launched at point-blank range.
The shadow staggered back as the energy struck, but it remained standing.
Silas wiped his brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"You're tough."
He advanced slowly, his blade scraping against the stone floor, sparks dancing along the edge.
The shadow waited, unmoving, but Silas could feel it — it was ready to attack again the moment he let his guard down.
He needed to finish this.
"Let's end this."
In a single motion, Silas reversed his grip on his sword, holding the blade by its edge. His right hand traced a familiar arc through the air, flames blooming along the path.
Burning Edge.
The arc ignited instantly, casting brilliant light across the room's walls.
The shadow didn't retreat.
It charged forward, fully aware this was its only chance to overcome Silas.
Silas loosed the sword.
The burning blade shot forward, spiraling through the air like an arrow of fire.
The strike landed cleanly.
The sword pierced the shadow's chest, sinking deep with a resonant crack that echoed through the chamber.
The shadow froze, locking eyes with Silas one last time before slowly disintegrating into fragments of light.
Silence followed.
Silas stepped forward, kneeling to retrieve his sword from the ground. The warmth that had radiated from the blade faded, leaving only the cold, familiar weight of steel in his hand.
His gaze drifted back to where the shadow had stood.
A door had formed, etched with the same symbol as his ring.
He rolled his shoulders, a faint smile crossing his lips.
"We move forward."
Silas approached the door, ready for whatever awaited him in the next chamber.