The courtyard was a total mess! It looked like a marketplace, split between the excited rookies from the Cloaca and the posh boys from the high-end districts who were busy acting like they owned the place.
Suddenly, a sharp crack, like a whip striking stone, cut everyone short. A Grey Knight had stepped onto the platform. He didn't need to shout; his voice was so cold it froze the entire atmosphere.
— "Silence!"
He threw a dark look at the crowd, the kind that said you disgust me.
— "You think we're here for a laugh? You aren't here to look pretty. You're here to work. You are the flesh and steel of the Kingdom. If you want medals, go back to your mothers.
Here, we serve Eisengrad until death sets us free."
Total silence. Even Von had lost his smirk.
— "On your knees!" the Knight roared. "Behold, one of the Twelve!"
A shadow emerged from the arches. The air grew heavy, as if it were getting hard to breathe. A Saint. No helmet. Bright red hair that floated as if underwater. But the worst part was his eyes: two red orbs that pierced your very soul.
— "I am Magnus Blutkaiser," he said in a soft voice—almost too soft for a man like him.
He descended, his white cape trailing through the dust.
— "You all dream of my position. The gold, the feasts, the respect... That's what they sell you. And it's true. A Saint lives like a king."
He paused, fixing his gaze on Siegfried, who shivered.
— "But there is a price. You think it's enough to know how to swing a sword? That strength will save you?"
He laughed sadly.
— "You aren't going to be fighting wolves. You're going to fight Aberrations. Errors of nature. The mere sight of a Class 5 can drive a man insane. They burn the soul. If your head gives out before your body, you'll be good for nothing but screaming."
Magnus turned around, his cape snapping.
— "The Initiation isn't a duel. It's a mental test. We're going to see if your soul is strong enough to hold its ground."
He pointed toward a sort of massive black stone structure at the far end of the district, with an entrance like an open maw.
— "Follow me to the Crypt. Those who come out unscathed will be soldiers. The others... will be forgotten."
The group crossed the paved streets of the Saints' Quarter. It was quite a spectacle. With every step Magnus Blutkaiser took, the path cleared. Merchants stopped, people knelt, and at the windows, women blushed, hypnotized by his beauty and power. He glided above the ground, paying no mind to all that adoration.
Siegfried nudged Von.
— "Look at that," he whispered, eyes shining. "One day, that'll be us. All that respect..."
They arrived at a quieter corner. Before them stood the Crypt. A small temple of grey stone, ancient, looking completely out of place with the rest of the city. The entrance swallowed the light.
On the doorstep, an old beggar was smoking a pipe. He didn't move when he saw the Saint; he simply bowed his head. Magnus gave him a nod and turned toward the recruits. His face turned hard.
— "Listen well," he said, his soft voice carrying far. "Forget what the Bloodhounds told you. There are no fifty reserved spots. This is natural selection."
Von tensed up. He remembered the guards' mocking: Being on the list only gives you the right to show up...
Magnus pointed to the dark door of the temple.
— "The rule is simple. You go in. You hold for one minute. Not a second more. If you don't come back out in time, it means you cracked, and your soul was devoured by what lives in there."
The recruits were lost. A tall, arrogant guy—likely a rich kid—snickered.
— "Is this a joke? We're here to fight, not to play 'let's get scared'! You take us for fools with your stories..."
A brief sound. The guy collapsed, his head rolling at his feet. Magnus hadn't even seemed to move. His sword was out, clean as a whistle. Not a single drop of blood. He sheathed it with a sharp click.
— "Arrogance is reserved for the dead," the Saint said without looking at the corpse.
He swept his gaze across the pale faces of the others.
— "If you fail, you die. If you're scared, get lost. No one is holding you back."
General panic. In a matter of seconds, half of them fled, preferring shame to death.
Siegfried didn't move. He looked at the blood on the stones, then at the black door. He had nothing to lose. The Cloaca or death—it was the same thing. Von was green in the face, but he stayed. They were the only desperate ones left.
Silence. Hundreds at the start, and now, forty. Forty trembling but resolute shadows in the middle of the blood. Magnus Blutkaiser sheathed his sword, a bizarre smile on his lips. He looked almost pleased.
— "Congratulations," he said softly. "You are what remains when the fear is stripped away. You've proven you want to serve more than you want to survive."
Siegfried was only half-listening. He was looking at the old man near the Crypt. The silhouette, the clothes, the pipe... Impossible. It was the man from the Cloaca. The one who had given him the book on magic. How could a beggar be the guardian of a sacred place? The old man caught his eye and winked. It was definitely him.
Magnus continued.
— "What awaits you in there is no normal monster. It is a Class 5 Aberration, unique in its kind. Legend says the King himself locked it away centuries ago to test his subjects." (False, of course. The King had done nothing; it was something born from his nightmares that he allowed to feed on the fear of others).
— "This creature represents the concept of Awakening," the Saint added. "It doesn't just want to eat you; it wants to find your weaknesses."
He made a grand gesture.
— "If you last one minute without going mad, you won't leave empty-handed. The atmosphere forges the soul. You will receive your Cleaver."
The recruits whispered, excited. The Cleaver, the legendary weapon.
— "It isn't just a sword," Magnus warned them, his gaze turning grave. "It is a part of you. A living blade that feeds on your will. It has no fixed shape. It will take the form that matches your personality. For most, it will be a basic tool. For the best... it will be an incredible weapon."
He stepped away from the door.
— "Enter. Your destiny awaits."
The doors of the Crypt opened and closed like a mouth. Out of thirty-seven, only ten had emerged. And they looked... different. They dragged their swords—raw, heavy things—along the ground, their gazes vacant, their skin grey. Robots, their humanity destroyed by what they had seen.
It was Von's turn. He gave one last smile to Siegfried, but he was shaking.
Siegfried had a lump in his throat. He turned to Lena.
— "You think he'll hold up? Look at the others... they're broken."
Lena ignored him. She stared at the black door, impassive.
— "Just because we come from the same village doesn't mean we're friends, Siegfried. Here, it's everyone for themselves. If he dies, it's because he was weak."
Siegfried took the hit, but he didn't have time to reply. Von had vanished inside.
Inside, total darkness.
— "Hello, monster?" Von called out, his voice trembling. "Where are you? Daddy's here!"
Suddenly, the floor disappeared. The walls too. Ice-cold. Von was no longer in a cave; he was floating in a void filled with bizarre shapes and impossible colors. He was in The Interlace. The zone between reality and madness.
Before him was the Class 5 Aberration. Not a beast. It tapped into Von's mind, into his thirst for glory, and transformed it. It became a blinding light. An angel a hundred meters tall, made of eyes and razor-sharp wings, slicing through demons with insane violence. It was beautiful. It was horrifying. It was too much for a human brain.
— "AAAAAH!" Von screamed. He felt his brain frying. The Beauty wanted to make him disappear. Yield, the light whispered. Become me.
— "Never!" Von yelled, gritting his teeth. "I am the hero!"
Outside, Magnus Blutkaiser froze. An invisible shockwave of energy made the ground tremble. The Saint's red eyes went wide.
— "This power... Impossible..."
The door of the Crypt exploded. Through the dust, a silhouette appeared. Von Ritcher. But he was transformed. Two wings of light sprouted from his back, and in his hand was his Cleaver. Not a rusted hunk of metal like the others. A long, brilliant sword with silver feathers and a blade that sang.
Dead silence. Even Lena was mouth agape.
Magnus raised his hands to the sky as if witnessing a miracle.
— "Incredible..." the Saint whispered, his voice shaking. "A soul that controlled the Interlace..."
He pointed at Von.
— "Look at him! That is no ordinary weapon. That is a Divine Cleaver."
Magnus approached Von as if he were a holy relic. His red eyes glowed.
— "You don't understand," he whispered.
"This isn't just good. This is an Apotheosis."
He raised his hand toward Von.
— "A Divine Cleaver doesn't just cut flesh. It cuts through fate. No need to prove yourself, or clean the toilets."
He turned to Von and bowed—a crazy gesture for a man of his standing.
— "Welcome, brother. You are a Saint. You've achieved everything in one stroke."
At that same moment, miles away. In the Nacre Citadel, the throne was a mountain of silk cushions atop a glass floor. The King, a man of incredible beauty with silver hair, was lounging with a smirk on his face. Before him was a board game where the figurines moved on their own. Beside it, a book was writing itself.
He moved a golden piece that had just appeared.
— "Well, well..." he chuckled. "A legendary piece. This is getting interesting."
He laughed—a sound that made the castle tremble. He didn't know this game was real, nor that this piece was a boy he had tortured. To him, it was just a game of chess.
Back at the Crypt.
Von's wings of light vanished, and so did his sword. He ran a hand through his hair. He had changed. He no longer stood like a kid from the Cloaca, but like a prince.
— "Von! That's amazing!" Siegfried cried out, happy for his friend. "You're a Saint!"
Von looked at him, and for a second, Siegfried thought he saw contempt. But it passed quickly.
— "Yes, Sieg," Von replied in a nonchalant voice. "It was written. I am above the rest."
A little further away, Lena bit her lip. She was jealous. That blonde idiot... a Saint?
— "Your turn, Siegfried," Magnus said, impatient.
Siegfried approached the black door. Von grabbed him by the shoulder.
— "Listen," Von whispered, his voice icy. "No matter what you see in there... accept nothing. Yield nothing. It's your will against its. Otherwise, you die."
Siegfried nodded and stepped into the dark.
Outside, Magnus, curious, turned to Von.
— "What form did the Aberration take for you? What concept did you fight?"
Von looked down at him with a smug smile.
— "Sorry. What happens in the Crypt, stays in the Crypt."
And he turned his back on the powerful Knight, waiting to see if his friend would survive.