**Chapter 15: The Doors of Despair**

  The students who had fled from the mechanical guardian found themselves in another strange room. The stone walls were lit dimly by magical torches, casting long shadows. Before them stood ten ancient doors, each marked with unknown runes and strange symbols. A metallic plaque above read in bold, glowing letters:

  “Only ten may enter. Each must choose one door. One door per person. The path forward lies hidden. Choose wisely.”

  Azrael stood still, trying to understand what this cryptic message meant.

  “Only one door per person… only ten may enter at once…” he muttered,  his brows furrowed. There were exactly thirty students present.

  Whispers rose among the students.

  “Does it mean only ten of us can leave?” “Maybe three of the doors are real and others are traps.” “We should go back and help the others fight the guardian!”

  Panic began to take root. Tension grew with every passing moment. Some students were already pacing. Others argued.

  Azrael, usually calm, now felt the weight of uncertainty. He was the leader. The one everyone looked to for guidance. But he didn’t have an answer. Not this time.

  Then, stepping forward, ten students volunteered to go first.

  What shocked everyone was that most of them were from the Peasant class.

  Azrael blinked, surprised. The weakest among us… were the bravest? He clenched his fists silently. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.

  One of them, a short girl with burn scars on her arms, smiled. “We’ve been underestimated since day one. Let us prove something today.”

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  The ten brave students approached the doors. With one last glance, they stepped forward and disappeared through the doors. The heavy slabs shut tight behind them. There was no scream, no sound. Only silence.

  Then suddenly—

  From behind the sealed doors, faint cries and panicked screams echoed. Out of the ten doors, only three remained silent. The other seven rang with terrifying screams. Panic surged again.

  “They must be the real doors! The ones without the screams!” shouted someone.

  Students rushed toward those three doors, shoving and pushing to get a spot.

  Azrael raised his voice, “Everyone, calm down! We don’t know anything yet!”

  “Shut up!” barked a Noble-class student. “You think we’re trusting your words now? You let us run away instead of fighting! We’re not dying because of you again!”

  A few others agreed, and soon the tension turned into chaos. Fists flew. Spells flared. Swords clanged.

  Azrael tried to intervene, only to be shoved aside.

  He gritted his teeth, pushing himself back up. A fireball exploded nearby. He barely shielded two students in time. This is madness, he thought. How quickly people crumble when fear takes over.

  Finally, when the dust settled, only five students were left standing. The rest had either collapsed from exhaustion, been injured, or simply given up.

  Azrael, his robe torn and bloodied, stood with a hollow look in his eyes.

  He had never imagined he’d witness something so ugly.

  The five remaining students entered the remaining doors without a word.

  What lay beyond stunned them.

  Each of them found themselves falling gently through a light tunnel, like drifting down a sunbeam. And then—

  Open sky.

  Soft grass.

  Birdsong.

  It was a beautiful hilltop, just outside the ruins.

  All the doors had led here.

  Lucien and Princess Elira after defeating the Guardian came outside with a path which urged open.Elira who was still in shock decided to stay silent about the incident.She nonchalantly asked,

  “How did you defeat the puppet guardian?”.He already knows what is on her mind, she is now like a open book.

  “I was simply lucky.The puppet already injured from the previous fight I dealt the last blow. ”

  Lucien, watching from a distance, muttered, “So it was a test of choice… and humanity.”

  Azrael stumbled onto the field a moment later, looking up at the blue sky. He didn’t speak. He simply stared ahead.

  He had learned something far more valuable than magic or swordsmanship—

  When fear rules the heart, even the noblest can fall. And sometimes, the weakest shine the brightest.