Chapitre 19: Echoes Of Truth
The mist in the **Valley of Echoes** thinned as Orin, Wake, Zeela, and Hiroshi pressed forward. The oppressive weight that had hung in the air since their arrival seemed to lift slightly, but the whispers never fully disappeared. Orin felt them scratching at the edges of his mind, pulling at his fears and doubts.
Ahead, a large stone archway loomed, etched with ancient symbols that glowed faintly in the dim light. Beyond the arch, the path opened into a massive, circular chamber carved into the valley's cliffs. The walls were smooth and reflective, shimmering faintly with an otherworldly light.
In the center of the chamber stood a pedestal, atop which rested a small, glowing object—the **Mark of Accord**. Its soft, golden light pulsed in time with the faint hum that filled the air.
"That's it," Zeela said, her voice calm but tense. "The trial's goal. We retrieve the Mark and return to the Academy."
"Sounds too easy," Hiroshi muttered, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the chamber. "No way they'd make it this straightforward."
Wake stepped forward, his fists igniting with flickers of flame. "Only one way to find out."
As they approached the pedestal, the hum grew louder, resonating in their chests. Orin felt his pulse quicken, the beast inside him stirring restlessly. The whispers intensified, their voices merging into a single, incomprehensible chant.
"Stay alert," Zeela said, her grip tightening on her daggers. "Something's coming."
The moment Orin stepped within ten feet of the Mark, the ground beneath them trembled. Shadows began to seep from the walls, pooling on the floor before rising into the shape of a massive, humanoid figure. Its body was composed of writhing tendrils of darkness, its eyes glowing like burning coals.
"The **Warden of Accord,**" Zeela whispered, her voice low. "We fight, together."
The Warden roared, the sound reverberating through the chamber as it lunged forward. The group scattered, each moving to their own positions.
Zeela struck first, sending a concentrated gravity well toward the Warden's legs. The shadowy tendrils twisted and writhed, resisting the pull but slowing just enough for Wake to unleash a volley of fiery punches. The flames struck the Warden's torso, causing it to stagger, but the damage was minimal.
"It's resistant!" Wake shouted, leaping back as the Warden swung a massive arm at him.
Hiroshi moved in from the side, his daggers slicing through the tendrils with precision. The creature let out a guttural growl as Hiroshi's blades connected, but the wounds closed almost instantly, the shadows reforming.
"We need to find its core!" Hiroshi yelled. "It's regenerating too fast!"
Orin gripped his blade tightly, his eyes locked on the Warden's movements. The beast inside him roared, urging him to act. His muscles tensed, the whispers in his mind growing louder.
*Let me out. You'll never win without me.*
"No," Orin muttered, shaking his head. He couldn't lose control. Not again.
The Warden turned its glowing eyes on him, as if sensing his hesitation. With a deafening roar, it charged, its massive arms crashing down toward him. Orin dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack as the ground where he'd stood shattered.
"Orin, move!" Zeela shouted, sending another gravity well to slow the Warden's advance.
Orin scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He couldn't let the others down. He had to fight.
As the battle raged, Orin began to notice a pattern in the Warden's movements. Every time it regenerated, a faint, pulsing light appeared in the center of its chest—its core.
"There!" Orin shouted, pointing to the glowing light. "The core! We have to hit it!"
Zeela nodded, her gravity well intensifying as she held the Warden in place. "Wake, Hiroshi—keep it distracted! Orin, take the shot!"
Wake and Hiroshi moved in unison, their attacks relentless as they drew the Warden's attention. Flames and blades clashed against shadowy tendrils, each strike buying Orin precious seconds.
Orin charged forward, his blade glowing faintly as he poured every ounce of focus into his strike. The whispers screamed in his mind, the beast clawing at the edges of his control.
*This is your chance. Use me.*
Orin gritted his teeth, forcing the beast down. "Not this time."
He leapt into the air, his blade arcing toward the Warden's core. The creature roared, its tendrils lashing out to block him, but Zeela's gravity well pulled them away just long enough for Orin's strike to land.
The blade pierced the core, and the Warden let out a deafening wail. The shadows began to dissolve, the creature's form collapsing in on itself until nothing remained but silence.
The chamber grew still, the hum fading as the Mark of Accord's light intensified. Orin stumbled back, his chest heaving as the whispers finally quieted. The beast was subdued, but only just.
Zeela approached the pedestal, retrieving the Mark with careful hands. Its golden glow reflected in her sharp eyes as she turned to the group. "We did it."
Wake grinned, his flames dissipating as he clapped Orin on the shoulder. "Not bad, Orin. That was a hell of a strike."
Hiroshi smirked, sheathing his daggers. "Guess you're not completely useless after all."
Orin managed a weak smile, though his mind was elsewhere. The battle had taken everything he had, and the whispers—though quiet for now—felt closer than ever.
As they exited the valley, the group was greeted by General Cleve Rain, his expression unreadable. He examined the Mark of Accord in Zeela's hands before nodding.
"Well done," Cleve said. "You've proven yourselves capable. But this is only the beginning."
Orin frowned, the weight of Cleve's words settling heavily on him. "What do you mean?"
Cleve's gaze fixed on him, his eyes piercing. "The disturbances in the Monari are tied to forces far older and more dangerous than you can imagine. Your trial in the Valley of Echoes was meant to prepare you—not just for battle, but for the truth."
Orin's chest tightened. "The truth about what?"
Cleve hesitated for a moment before replying. "About what you are. And about what's coming."
As the group returned to the Academy, Orin couldn't shake the feeling that his journey was only just beginning. The Warden of Accord, the Black Tiger, Azail—each piece of the puzzle pointed to something far greater, far darker than he'd ever imagined.
And in the depths of his mind, the beast stirred once more, its voice a chilling whisper:
*You can't escape me.*
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone