Capítulo 14: Chapter 14: The Call of Shadows
Chapter 14: The Call of Shadows
The pain was deafening, echoing through my battered body with each agonizing movement. But I clawed forward, inch by excruciating inch, through the rubble-strewn corridor. My fingers scraped against jagged stone, leaving bloody smears in my wake. Every breath was labored, every heartbeat a painful reminder of my fragile mortality. Yet I pushed on.
The light ahead grew brighter, pulsating with an unnatural, crimson hue. It wasn't warm or comforting, it was cold, sinister, and yet irresistibly magnetic. Something about it called to me, as if whispering promises just beyond the edge of comprehension. It didn't make sense, but deep down, I felt it, this wasn't just light. It was something alive, something ancient. I didn't know what it was, but I knew this: if I stopped, if I let the darkness take me now, my body would remain here, lifeless and forgotten.
My vision blurred, black spots creeping in at the edges. My body was screaming for rest, for release, but I refused to succumb. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself forward, dragging my broken form closer to the glow.
The narrow passage finally gave way to a vast, dome-shaped hall. Its walls were unlike any I had seen before; smooth and gleaming like polished obsidian, their surfaces etched with cryptic runes that seemed to pulse faintly in the crimson light. The air hummed with an energy that crawled under my skin, cold and oppressive. At the center of the chamber stood an altar, its design primal and ancient. A blade protruded from its heart, its dark steel almost absorbing the light around it, save for the crimson gleam of a crystal embedded in its hilt. The crystal seemed to pulse in time with my own heartbeat, as if tethered to my very soul.
This was it. This was what had been calling me.
The air was thick and heavy, pressing against my chest like an unseen weight. Each heartbeat felt like an eternity, and with every passing second, death's cold grip tightened. My vision wavered, and the world tilted as darkness began to overtake me.
"No," I whispered hoarsely, as if defying the void itself.
With the last remnants of my strength, I reached out. My torn, bloodied palm met the blade's cold steel. A jolt shot through me, and then, nothing. The world disappeared, swallowed by an infinite void.
I awoke to utter blackness. The air was still and suffocating, the silence oppressive. My body felt submerged in a thick, viscous liquid, its metallic tang unmistakable. I didn't need to see it to know, it was blood.
I shifted, the liquid rippling around me.
"Is anyone there?!" My voice rang out, desperate and trembling.
No answer. The silence was absolute, broken only by the faint sounds of the liquid sloshing with my movements. Panic clawed at my chest, but before it could take hold, a deep, resonant voice shattered the quiet.
"Thou art unworthy of wielding my fragment," it intoned, the words reverberating in the space around me. "Prove thyself in the Field of Blades."
The ground beneath me gave way suddenly, pulling me down into an unseen abyss.
A blinding light engulfed me as I plummeted, the sensation of falling disorienting but strangely painless. I hit the ground with a jarring thud, yet my body remained unharmed. As I pushed myself to my feet, confusion clouded my thoughts.
Before me stretched endless grasslands, their vibrant green an unsettling contrast to the sinister crimson glow of the blade. Hundreds of weapons jutted from the ground, their forms eerily lifelike but clearly carved from stone. They radiated an ancient power, as if each one carried the memories of battles long forgotten.
The grasslands were unnaturally still, the air heavy with an unspoken tension. The stone weapons emitted a faint hum, their vibrations barely perceptible but undeniably present. It was as though the entire field was alive, waiting, watching.
I stumbled forward, dazed, until something startled me, a translucent screen materialized before my eyes, hovering just out of reach. The words it displayed were stark and unnerving:
[Field of Blades]
[Completion Rate: 0/147]
[Details: Player may choose to challenge one trial every 24 hours. Player will inherit the fragment of ERROR upon completing all trials.]
The translucent screen flickered, its text unyielding and final. '147 trials.' My chest tightened. Each blade in this field was a monument to a challenge yet to come, a promise of pain and struggle.
What kind of madness was this?
The screen blinked, its faint glow casting a surreal light over the endless field. My heart raced as I glanced around, searching for answers, for an escape, for anything to ground me in reality. But there was nothing, only the blades, the screen, and the growing weight of uncertainty.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
Verrinen
Verrinen If you're enjoying the story so far, please consider supporting it with a Power Stone. Thank you so much for reading and for your support!
Capítulo 15: Chapter 15: The Field of Blades
Chapter 15: The Field of Blades
The translucent screen flickered before me, its faint blue glow casting a surreal light over the endless grasslands.
[Analyzing Player]
[...]
[Analysis Complete]
[Player Class: Swordsman]
A sharp whistle pierced the still air, followed by the dull thud of steel meeting earth. A black blade embedded itself at my feet, its force shaking the ground. I flinched, stepping back as the echoes of the sound faded. My eyes locked on the weapon, and a strange familiarity settled over me, a fleeting, fragile sense of belonging.
I reached out, my hand trembling as I gripped the hilt. It felt solid, grounding, as if this sword was an extension of myself. The weight was perfect, the balance flawless. For a moment, its cool surface steadied the whirlwind in my chest. The translucent screen blinked to life:
[Aeladrian Black Steel Sword]
[Details: Forged in the smithies of Aeladria from the resilient Black Steel, this blade is a masterpiece of balance and durability. Indestructible within the Field of Blades.]
I gave it a few cautious swings. It moved through the air as though it were parting silk. The faint whistle it produced was oddly comforting. A prompt appeared, drawing my gaze away:
[You may now perform the first trial.]
[Proceed? Y/N]
I stared at the screen, my chest tightening. How many times had I steeled myself for horrors, only to find new depths of torment? My body ached for rest, but my mind knew better. This world wasn't kind to hesitation. With a sigh that felt more like a surrender, I pressed Y.
The grasslands around me dissolved, replaced by a charred, decrepit battlefield. The statues of blades were gone, replaced by mounds of lifeless bodies. The air reeked of decay, thick and choking. The cries of war and the clash of steel tore through the silence.
A firm hand yanked me backward. "Get your head straight, soldier!" a man barked, his bloodied face inches from mine. Before I could respond, he shoved me forward. "CHARGE!"
The ground trembled beneath the pounding boots of soldiers surging past me. Their war cries mingled with the anguished screams of the dying. My legs moved, unsteady and heavy, as though I were dragging chains behind me.
[First Trial]
[Objective: Lead the human forces to victory against the Demon King's army.]
[Progress: 0/100%]
A commander's voice broke through the chaos: "Archers, FIRE!"
Arrows hissed through the air, their deadly tips raining down on the grotesque creatures before us. My gaze followed their trajectory to the Demon King's forces. They were monstrous, humanoid beasts with unnatural skin tones and crude weapons. They closed in with terrifying speed, their guttural roars drowning out everything else.
I raised my blade and charged. The first swing bit deep into flesh, spraying dark, viscous blood. The stench was overpowering. Around me, men fell, some struck down by arrows, others torn apart by the enemy. My arms moved on instinct, the sword slicing through limbs and torsos, but my mind felt detached, a spectator in my own body.
A guttural roar shattered my focus. A towering beast lumbered forward, trampling friend and foe alike. Each step shook the earth. Its iron club, smeared with fresh blood, swung with a force that sent bodies flying.
"Hold the line!" someone shouted, their voice tinged with desperation.
The beast's club descended, shattering shields and soldiers alike. I froze, watching helplessly as it crushed a man beneath its weight. The sickening crunch and splatter of blood made my stomach churn.
It turned its eyes to me. I couldn't breathe. The weight of its presence bore down on me like a physical force. My legs refused to move.
The beast charged, its club raised high. Instinct screamed at me to dodge. I stumbled to the side, narrowly avoiding the first swing, but it was too fast. The club's redirected strike slammed into my ribs. Pain erupted through my body, and the world went black.
When I opened my eyes, I was back in the Field of Blades. The serene grasslands stretched endlessly, mocking me with their calm. My breathing was shallow, my chest tight.
[First Trial Failed]
[Details: The human forces were crushed under the might of the Demon King's army. The world is engulfed in carnage.]
[Progress: 0,6/100%]
[Retry available in: 23:59:37...]
I collapsed to my knees, the sword slipping from my grasp. I stared blankly at the screen, its cold, unfeeling words hammering at the fragile remains of my resolve. My shoulders sagged as a hollow laugh escaped my lips.
"Again?" I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Of course."
The weight of it all pressed down on me, suffocating. I wasn't angry. I wasn't even frustrated anymore. I was tired, tired of fighting, tired of failing.
I reached for the sword, my hands trembling as I gripped it once more. "If this is all there is... then let it come."
The realization was bitter but final: there would be no reprieve, no mercy. Only the unending cycle of death and rebirth until I either succeeded, or broke completely.
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