The gate was opening slowly.
Its sound was sharp, heavy, as the figure behind it emerged with utter calm and no haste. The shadow standing before the opening did not move.
It did not bow.
Nor did it grant Lloyd even a glance of respect.
The being that stepped from the heart of lightning was not entirely human.
Its skin was gray, cracked, as if it had retained heat within and refused to let it escape.
And its eyes—slits aflame, steady, without a blink.
It spoke in a voice that pierced the air: "If you wish to pass... you must kill me."
Lloyd did not reply immediately.
The weight of the words pressed on his chest, not as fear, but as a truth he could not escape.
Finally, he said, in a low, steady voice: "Before I decide to kill you... I want to understand.
Why all these trials? Why don't you just end it from the start?"
The being laughed.
A short, humorless laugh.
"Lloyd... child of nothingness... bearer of the fourth legacy.
We do not kill those who might hold the keys to the future.
We break them... or forge them.
And breaking is far easier than killing."
Lloyd gripped his sword.
His heart pounded fiercely, yet his feet did not retreat.
He asked defiantly: "And who are you?"
The being raised its head.
Lightning split behind it.
"We are the guardians of the legacy.
We who existed before light, before names learned how to be spoken.
We test those who aspire to stand above fate."
It took one step forward.
The ground beneath it sank.
"Since you have reached here, you are not merely a survivor.
You are a threat.
And a threat like yours... must be bound, or broken before it is complete."
A sharp headache struck Lloyd's head.
Not fear—rather, a weight.
He raised his sword.
And a voice within him whispered calmly: This is a test.
He looked directly into the being's eyes: "If your fight is what separates me from my legacy... I will fight you.
But I will not kill on mere command.
If I spill your blood... I will spill it as right, not as obedience."
The being did not laugh this time.
It smiled.
"Finally... the fourth legacy begins to speak."
Lightning rose around its body.
The sky split, and the world retreated a step.
Lloyd planted his feet firmly.
The tip of his sword began to glow green.
The being spoke in a quiet, deadly tone: "If you remain standing for more than ten seconds...
then you carry the blood of the ancestors."
Lloyd raised his sword: "Combat does not frighten me.
What frightens me... is retreating."
Lightning roared.
The air exploded.
And the clash began.
Lightning erupted around them.
§ KRAAAAK §
White light swallowed everything for a blink of an eye, then the world returned heavier, slower, as if the air had become a substance to be trampled, not breathed.
Dust rose in short waves, pebbles leapt then fell, and the earth beneath Lloyd's feet emitted a muffled groan.
The guardian did not move.
It stood still, its back to the lightning, its shadow stretching longer than the laws allowed.
Then—
it vanished.
No trace.
No sound.
Not even a disturbance in the dust.
Lloyd's heart clenched from within.
His mind calculated possibilities with deadly speed... nothing matched.
§ TAK §
A sharp jab pierced his right shoulder.
He did not cry out.
Blood flowed warm, and his vision wavered half a tremor, as if the lens had lost focus. He turned slowly, forcing himself to stay steady, and found the guardian directly behind him, at a distance of one step.
Closer than should be.
"Hello, your defense is very open..."
§ BOOOM §
A kick to the stomach.
Air compressed then exploded from Lloyd's lungs in one burst. His body flew half a meter before crashing to the ground. Dust scattered like a brown curtain, and pebbles struck his shield and chest.
He tried to inhale—nothing came.
He was not given time.
The guardian's hand gripped him by the chest and lifted him effortlessly.
Lloyd's feet dangled, dust falling from them in disconnected lines.
§ THOK §
§ THOK §
§ THOK §
Short, precise punches, without rush.
Each blow closed a corner of his awareness. Sound faded, as if someone had lowered the world by two degrees. His mouth filled with a metallic taste.
Before he could fall, the guardian caught him again.
"Whoa... whoa... this is just the beginning, don't worry I won't kill you and my punches won't hit your vital organs but I will break you and your spirit..."
§ SMASH §
A direct punch to the face.
Lloyd fell.
His back slammed into a rock. The rock cracked. Dust rose in a short column then collapsed.
He did not move for seconds—seconds that felt longer than they should.
The guardian took one step forward only.
The ground beneath its feet sank a centimeter, as if yielding.
It stood over Lloyd, silent. The silence itself became pressure.
"It seems he's just a useless boy as I thought I don't know why that person was interested in him well anyway I'll end this farce with this attack"
It raised its arm.
Air around its fist began to collapse.
Dust was drawn to an invisible center. Pebbles shifted. A faint sound—like vacuum being squeezed.
Time slowed.
And in the moment the strike moved—
Lloyd moved.
Not with strength.
With understanding.
§ SHF §
His body slid sideways, his shoulder scraping the dirt, sparks flying from metal against stone.
The strike passed mere centimeters from his head.
§ KRAAAAK §
The earth behind him shattered. A crack extended two meters long. Dust exploded then settled.
The guardian's eyes widened for a blink of an eye—one blink only.
"Oh... it seems you are my brother..."
It did not finish.
Lloyd surged forward.
His feet pushed the ground, dust flying backward like a tail. His fist on the sword remained steady despite the tremor, despite the bleeding.
§ SHNG §
A precise thrust toward the belly.
The sword's tip sliced the air before the body.
"HAY you bastard learn to listen to others without committing any rashness"
The impact was not as expected.
The tip halted halfway—like striking something dense. Faint green sparks flickered.
The guardian did not retreat. It did not groan.
Instead, it replied instantly.
§ THOK §
A quick, short-path punch.
Lloyd tried to dodge—half a pulse too late. The blow struck the side of his face. The world spun. His body lurched backward, pebbles slipping under his feet.
§ KRAAAAASH §
He crashed to the ground... but did not fall this time.
One knee touched the dirt. His palm steadied, carving a line.
He stopped.
Then rose.
He breathed with difficulty. The air was heavy, each inhale like passing through stone.
Blood seeped from his eyebrow. His right eye narrowed.
He stood.
Dust between them had not yet settled.
The guardian within the haze, still. Its presence was felt more than seen.
"Hahah, it seems you really intend to continue, that's good... let's see how far you can endure"
Lloyd did not reply.
He clenched his fist.
Dirt trembled beneath his feet.
The tip of his sword emitted a faint hum—not light yet, but a promise.
One step from the guardian.
One step from Lloyd.
§ FSH §
Air split.
§ TAK §
Stone cracked.
§ DOOOM §
Pressure fell.
The fight was no longer an exchange of blows.
It became a struggle of distances, timing, and breath.
A strike passed.
Evasion wounded.
Impact silenced the forest for a moment.
Fear was not in the strength.
It was that the guardian did not rush.
As if it knew time worked in its favor.
And Lloyd—
knew that every second standing was a small victory.
He stood, his body trembling, bruises evident, blood flowing...
but his eyes did not break.
What is taken does not return as it was
Lloyd did not fall.
Not immediately.
That was the first mistake the world had made against him.
His body stood as if it had forgotten how to fall, or perhaps refused to acknowledge that falling had become inevitable. His feet were embedded in the earth, yet the sensation of them was faint, distant, as if they no longer belonged to him entirely. His knees trembled without rhythm, a tremor unlike fear, but like the final strain of something overused.
His breaths came in gasps.
Inhale... delayed.
Exhale... laden with pain.
Blood flowed from his mouth without his noticing. From his nose. From an open wound on his left shoulder he no longer remembered when he was injured. The metallic taste filled his mouth, yet it no longer bothered him. Senses began to recede one by one, as if his body was closing unnecessary doors for survival.
Before him, the guardian stood.
It did not move.
Did not assume a fighting stance.
Did not raise its hand.
It simply... looked.
And its gaze was not that of an enemy.
Nor that of a killer.
It was the look of one examining a broken entity, trying to pinpoint the fracture precisely.
"You are still standing..."
Its voice was calm. Calm without warmth, without cruelty. Calm that made words heavier than they should be.
"This is interesting."
Lloyd tried to reply.
His tongue moved, but words did not come. His throat was dry, as if the air itself refused to pass. He tried to clench his fist on the sword.
His fingers did not respond.
Nerve signals arrived late, or not at all. The sword seemed distant despite still being in his hand.
The guardian noticed.
"The body is beginning to withdraw."
It said as if announcing an expected outcome.
"This stage always comes faster than they think."
It took one step forward.
And with that step—
the air changed.
Not an explosion.
Not lightning.
A sudden, sharp drop, as if the sky itself had descended half a meter in one go.
§ DOOOM §
Weight fell.
Not on Lloyd's body only...
but on his awareness.
His knees bent harshly, slamming into the ground, stones cracking beneath them, the cracking sound clear. The sword slipped from his hand without resistance, falling with a faint metallic murmur, then half-buried in the dirt a forearm away, as if placed there to be forgotten.
Lloyd gasped.
But air did not enter.
His chest compressed, his lungs contracted, and his heart began to pound erratically. His vision wavered, darkening at the edges, then partially returned, distorted.
The guardian approached.
It stood directly before him.
Looking down at him, not as a victor, but as a teacher gazing at a student who failed to grasp an unforgivable rule.
"Do you know what this is?"
It asked, pressing its foot slightly on the ground beside Lloyd.
Pressure increased.
"This is not force pressure.
Nor aura.
Nor energy."
It leaned slightly.
"This... is the weight of truth."
It extended its hand, placing two fingers on Lloyd's forehead.
The movement was not violent.
But precise.
Surgical.
§ TAK §
A faint sound, barely audible.
But something... cracked.
The world shattered.
The arena no longer existed.
Nor lightning.
Nor the gate.
There was only a void.
Then—
images.
Lloyd saw himself.
Smaller.
Thinner.
Kneeling.
In different places.
Different times.
Each time he rose...
Each time he was struck down.
Hands reaching out to him...
Then retreating.
Voices calling to him...
Then falling silent.
"These are not just your memories."
The guardian's voice echoed from every direction.
"These are your patterns.
Your closed loops.
The points you always return to."
The images accelerated.
Each attempt failed.
Each promise unfulfilled.
Each time he said "I will be stronger"... then he was not.
Lloyd tried to scream.
Failed.
His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
His body in reality trembled violently.
Pressure increased.
This time it was not physical.
It was mental.
His memories began to warp. Faces without names. Names without faces. Moments he no longer knew if they had happened or not. Something being torn away slowly... coldly... without haste.
"The legacy does not awaken when you fight."
The guardian said.
"The legacy awakens when you are stripped."
A sudden kick.
§ BOOOM §
Lloyd's body flew backward, crashed to the ground, tumbled uncontrollably, slammed into a rock, then stopped at the edge of a pit formed by previous pressure.
He coughed violently.
Blood came from his mouth, warm, thick.
His left arm did not move.
He tried to rise.
Failed.
Tried again.
Failed.
His breaths came as a broken whistle.
The guardian approached once more.
It placed its foot on Lloyd's chest.
It did not press with full strength.
It did not need to.
"Finished."
It said without anger.
"Not because you are weak... but because you thought understanding comes before breaking."
It lifted its foot slightly.
Air around it began to collapse, as if vacuum itself was being crushed.
"This strike will not kill you."
It continued.
"But it will take something from you... that will not return."
Lloyd opened his eye with difficulty.
He saw the sword far away.
He saw the sky dark.
He saw the guardian standing firm.
And for the first time—
he felt real fear.
Not fear of death.
But fear that this... was all he had.
§ KRAAAAACK §
The strike descended.
The world went dark.
—
It was not complete darkness.
There was a pulse.
Slow.
Heavy.
Then another sound.
Not the guardian's voice.
Older.
Deeper.
"...Has he broken?"
The guardian turned instantly.
"Not yet."
It said cautiously.
"But something was taken from him."
A short silence.
Then the voice said:
"Good.
Leave him."
Pressure vanished suddenly.
Lloyd did not move.
But within him—
in that void he thought empty—
something had not broken.
Something had... changed shape.
Not strength.
Not awareness.
But readiness for something he did not yet understand.
And the gate behind them—
did not close.
But... widened slightly.
꧁End of Chapter eighteen꧂