Chapter 96: The Ruins Of Oralis
The night bled into day as the party crossed the broken plains leading to Oralis—once a divine city, now reduced to rubble and cursed stone. Lightning constantly lit the horizon, though no clouds marked the sky. Time felt different here. Slower. Heavier. Each step forward seemed to stretch into eternity, as if the very air resisted their advance.
Valerian stood at the cliff's edge, his black cloak fluttering like raven wings against the crimson dawn. The wind carried whispers—fragments of prayers from the dead, echoes of divine wrath that had shattered this holy place centuries ago. His silver eyes traced the ruined spires below, calculating paths through the maze of collapsed temples and twisted metal. Behind him, Lira, Seraphine, and a recovering Selene followed cautiously, their footsteps muffled by the strange, almost living moss that carpeted the ground.
"The air tastes of copper and regret," Seraphine murmured, her lunar staff pulsing with protective light. "Whatever happened here, the trauma still bleeds."
Lira's hand never left her blade's hilt. "The Conclave's archives spoke of a war between gods. They say the city screamed for seven days when it fell."
"Are you sure we're ready for this?" she asked, adjusting her weapon nervously.
"No," Valerian replied flatly, his voice cutting through the oppressive atmosphere like a blade through silk. "But we go anyway."
He stepped down into the sunken city, and reality seemed to shiver around him.
---
The descent was silent—no monsters, no traps. Just the oppressive hum of power that made their bones ache and their souls recoil. Ancient runes lined the walls like veins of liquid fire, pulsing in rhythm with some vast, unseen heartbeat. The deeper they went, the more reality warped around them.
Gravity shifted without warning. Selene found herself walking on what had been a wall moments before, while Seraphine's staff cast shadows that moved independently of her movements. The architecture itself was wrong—doorways that led to solid stone, stairways that descended into sky, corridors that folded back on themselves in impossible geometries.
"The Architects built this place," Valerian said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Before they transcended. Before they learned to hate their own creations."
"How do you know that?" Lira demanded.
Valerian's eyes flickered with dark knowledge. "Because I can feel their fingerprints on every stone. The same touch that crafted the Systems. The same arrogance that convinced them they could play with the fundamental forces of existence."
At the heart of the ruins stood a monolithic gate made of intertwined bones and golden roots. It pulsed with a sickly light, and as they approached, it whispered—not in words, but in pure emotion. Fear. Hunger. Desperate hope. The bones were not animal, Valerian realized with growing dread. They were the remains of previous Chosen, warriors who had entered the Trial and never emerged.
Seraphine stepped back, her face pale. "This isn't natural."
Valerian nodded grimly. "It's alive. Fed by the souls of everyone who's ever failed." He placed a hand against the twisted surface, and the gate shuddered like a living thing. "And it's hungry."
The whispers grew louder, more insistent. Selene drew her saber instinctively as spectral faces began to emerge from the bone surface—Chosen from across the ages, their eyes pleading for release.
**System Alert:**
> "You are approaching the Trial of the Third Moon. The Core recognizes your entry. Alignment data is stabilizing…"
> "WARNING: Time Compression Field Detected. Local time may move 10x faster. Once entered, no exit permitted until Trial concludes."
> "CAUTION: Previous failure rate at this Trial stage: 97.3%. Recommend immediate withdrawal."
Valerian dismissed the warning with a thought. "The System's trying to protect us. Or protect itself from what it knows we'll find inside."
The gate creaked open with the sound of breaking bones and dying screams.
And they stepped into hell.
---
## Inside the Trial Arena – Realm of Fractured Fate
They emerged into a vast coliseum suspended over an endless void, its architecture defying every law of physics. Stars spun above them in accelerated orbits, entire galaxies wheeling through space in minutes rather than millennia. The arena floor was made of crystallized time itself—transparent, but shot through with veins of silver that pulsed with temporal energy.
Dozens of other gates opened around the arena's perimeter like wounds in reality, each one disgorging its contents. Champions emerged—warriors clad in armor that bent light around them, mages whose very presence warped the air into impossible colors, assassins who seemed to exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously. Beasts that had never known natural birth, their forms crafted by Systems to be perfect killing machines.
All of them Chosen.
All bearing different Systems, their power signatures creating a cacophony of competing energies.
Lira whispered in awe, her voice nearly lost in the overwhelming presence of so much concentrated power. "They're… like you."
"Not like me," Valerian murmured, his eyes cataloguing threats with predatory precision. "They're tools. Weapons forged by the Architects. I broke mine."
A gong sounded—not heard, but felt in their bones. Blinding light split the arena like the birth of a new sun, and reality seemed to hold its breath.
And then a presence arrived.
Floating above them was Alex—but not the Alex that Valerian remembered from their shared past. This figure was draped in gold and white armor that seemed to be cut from the fabric of divinity itself. A crown of fractured halos spun behind his head, each one representing a different aspect of divine authority. His eyes burned with the light of collapsed stars, and when he moved, space itself bent to accommodate his passage.
"Welcome," he said, his voice echoing across the chamber with the weight of absolute command, "to the final prelude."
Dozens of Chosen turned toward him and bowed without hesitation, their Systems compelling obedience in the presence of such overwhelming power. Only Valerian and his companions remained standing, their defiance creating ripples in the arena's temporal field.
He wasn't just another player.
He was the Architect's Voice. Their chosen herald in the mortal realm.
Valerian clenched his fists, shadow leaking from between his fingers like liquid night. "He's hijacked the System entirely. Made himself into something more than human."
Alex's gaze found him across the vast arena, and when their eyes met, reality flickered. For a moment, Valerian saw through the divine facade to the broken soul beneath—his friend, twisted by power and purpose into something monstrous.
Alex smiled, and the expression was beautiful and terrible to behold. "Brother."
That single word turned every head toward Valerian, and he felt the weight of a hundred lethal gazes. The other Chosen shifted uneasily, recognizing something in him that their Systems couldn't quite categorize.
Shock rippled through the arena like a physical force.
"That one?" a fire-wreathed assassin growled, his voice dripping with contempt. "He's the other half? The broken Chosen?"
"He doesn't look like much," another whispered, but there was uncertainty in her tone.
Alex raised a hand, and silence fell like a guillotine blade. "Today begins the Trial of Elimination. You fight. You survive. The top five remain. The rest…" His smile widened, revealing teeth that gleamed like polished bone. "Erased. Permanently. Your souls will feed the gate, and your memories will become nothing more than whispers in the void."
Panic stirred among the assembled warriors. Some looked ready to flee, others prepared for immediate violence. The arena's crystalline floor began to crack under the pressure of so many competing auras.
Selene stepped in beside Valerian, her presence cool and calming against the rising chaos. "He's forcing us into a slaughter. Turn us against each other instead of facing you directly."
"He knows he can't beat me in single combat," Valerian muttered, his tactical mind already working through possibilities. "So he'll thin the herd first. Weaken me through attrition."
Seraphine whispered urgently, "What happens if you kill him here? End this before it begins?"
"He wins," Valerian answered darkly, gesturing at the arena around them. "This entire place is tied to his influence now. He's made himself into the keystone. I strike him down, I trigger the collapse of the Trial. Everyone dies, and the Architects get their sacrifice anyway."
A bell rang—not the gentle chime of temple bells, but the funeral toll of a death knell.
The arena began to shift and fragment, pieces of the floor breaking away to float in the void. Each fragment became its own battlefield, suspended in space by forces that made Valerian's altered System scream warnings.
Valerian's group found themselves teleported to an isolated platform—one of hundreds now floating in the fractured space around them. Through the transparent surfaces, they could see other battles beginning, Chosen tearing each other apart in displays of power that would have leveled cities.
A countdown echoed through the dimensional space, each number falling like a hammer blow.
**10… 9… 8…**
Four figures stepped from a swirling portal in front of them—Chosen warriors, their Systems radiating lethal intent. Each one bore the mark of careful cultivation, powers honed through countless battles.
A man cloaked in blood-red mist, his form shifting between solid and vapor—**System: Devouring Hunger**
A twin-paired knight with perfectly mirrored swords, moving in impossible synchronization—**System: Duality**
A young woman surrounded by floating grimoires, each book bound in skin and inked in blood—**System: Forbidden Knowledge**
A six-armed brute with curved horns, his hide scarred by a thousand battles—**System: Titan's Wrath**
"Remember," Valerian said quietly, drawing Umbra's Fang, "they're not just warriors. They're walking weapons, designed to kill Chosen like us."
The air around them crackled with competing energies as four different Systems prepared to unleash hell.
**3… 2… 1…**
The battlefield exploded into chaos.
---
## Combat Phase: Activated
The Titan charged first, his massive form causing the crystalline platform to crack with each thunderous step. Earth erupted around his feet—not conjured by magic, but torn from distant worlds through spatial rifts. Lira met him head-on with suicidal courage, sliding beneath his earth-shaking swing and carving deep into his knees with her enchanted blade. Blood sprayed in arterial gouts, but the Titan's System immediately began regenerating the damage.
Selene moved like a ghost made manifest, engaging the twin knight in a dance of death. Their blades clashed in showers of sparks that burned holes in reality itself, her saber weaving through the impossible coordination of his mirrored strikes. Each parry sent shockwaves through the platform, creating fractures that bled starlight.
Seraphine began chanting in the old tongue, her voice rising above the cacophony of battle as she wove shields of lunar energy around Valerian. The Forbidden mage responded by launching cursed sigils into the air—black symbols that writhed with malevolent intelligence, seeking to corrupt and devour any protective magic they encountered.
Valerian watched the blood-mist man with calculating eyes, noting how his form shifted between states of matter. This was no simple shapeshifting—the man was literally existing in multiple phases simultaneously, making conventional attacks useless.
Without warning, Valerian vanished in a burst of shadow that left afterimages burning in the air. He reappeared behind the blood-mist man, Umbra's Fang poised for a killing strike.
But the man dissolved, becoming pure crimson vapor just as the blade passed through where his heart should have been.
Valerian spun in midair, his altered senses tracking the mist as it reformed behind him. He released a concentrated burst of shadow energy—not the crude darkness of his original System, but something deeper. Dark flames that burned with the light of collapsed stars engulfed the area, consuming the very concept of the mist-man's existence.
The vapor screamed as it was forced back into solid form, flesh blistering under the assault of conceptual fire.
Across the field, one of the Forbidden mage's floating grimoires shattered under the pressure of Seraphine's counter-spell, its accumulated knowledge dispersing in screams of the damned. Valerian materialized behind her with liquid grace, Umbra's Fang finding the gap between her ribs.
"You should've stayed in the library," he whispered as he twisted the blade.
She crumpled, her remaining books falling like dead birds.
Meanwhile, Selene's blade found its mark—one twin knight gurgled as steel pierced his throat. The other screamed in sympathetic agony, their shared consciousness making the death doubly traumatic. Seraphine's lunar lance took him before he could recover, piercing his heart with concentrated moonlight.
Only the Titan remained, and he was beginning to show the strain. Lira had managed to sever tendons in both legs despite her own injuries, her crushed leg leaving trails of blood on the crystal floor.
Valerian didn't hesitate.
He plunged Umbra's Fang into the platform itself, channeling power through the blade into the arena's foundation. Shadow erupted from the crystallized time like living things—chains of pure darkness that wrapped around the Titan's massive limbs and began to constrict.
The brute roared, his six arms straining against the bonds, but Valerian's power had evolved beyond simple shadow manipulation. These chains were forged from the spaces between thoughts, the gaps where light feared to go.
Black wings spread behind Valerian—not conjured by his System, but manifested through sheer will. He launched himself skyward like an angel of destruction, Umbra's Fang trailing darkness in his wake. He came down with the force of falling judgment, driving the blade straight through the Titan's skull with a sound like reality breaking.
Silence fell like a burial shroud.
**System Notification:**
> "Elimination Complete. +300 Authority Points."
> "Round 1 Survivors: Valerian Argonus, Selene Dorne, Seraphine Nyx, Lira Veylin."
> "WARNING: Anomalous power signature detected. System Integration at 23% and rising."
They barely had time to breathe before the platform began to shift again, carrying them toward their next trial. New opponents materialized from the void—these ones stronger, their Systems more refined. And far above them all, Alex watched with quiet satisfaction.
But something had changed in Valerian's expression. A hunger had awakened, fed by the violence and the taste of other Systems' power. His eyes burned with silver fire that had nothing to do with his original abilities.
"Do you feel that?" Selene whispered, backing away from him instinctively.
Valerian looked at his hands, watching shadows dance between his fingers like living things. "The Arena is designed to force evolution. Each kill, each victory... it's changing me."
And in the depths of his altered System, something vast and terrible stirred to wakefulness.
---
## Outside the Trial
In the waking world, the High Arbiters watched from the Mirror of Worlds, their immortal faces etched with growing concern. The scrying surface showed not just the Arena, but the deeper currents of power flowing beneath reality itself.
One of them spoke, her voice carrying the weight of eons. "They survived Round One. But look at the readings. His System integration is accelerating beyond all projections."
Another Arbiter pointed at the swirling data streams. "Each victory feeds the process. He's not just breaking his limitations—he's consuming them. Metabolizing the very concept of restriction."
"And the brother?"
"Playing his role perfectly. Driving Valerian toward the convergence point." The first Arbiter's expression grew grim. "If he unlocks the true version of his System, if he becomes what the Architects originally intended..."
"He becomes a God," another whispered, the words falling like stones into still water. "Not bound by their rules. Not controlled by their designs. A God of pure annihilation."
The Mirror flickered, showing glimpses of possible futures—worlds burning under silver fire, reality itself unraveling as fundamental laws were rewritten by will alone.
"The Architects think they can control him," the eldest Arbiter said quietly. "They believe the Trial will either destroy him or bind him to their purpose."
"And if they're wrong?"
Silence stretched between them, heavy with implications too terrible to voice.
In the Mirror, Valerian raised Umbra's Fang toward the spinning stars above the Arena. The blade had begun to change, its metal flowing like liquid shadow. And behind his eyes, something that was no longer entirely human looked out at the cosmos with growing hunger.
The Trial was not meant to test him.
It was meant to feed him.
And not even the Architects would be able to stop what came next.
The countdown to the second round began, and with each number, reality held its breath.