“Vicar calls it the ‘Shattered Peak,’ for we climb alone. But the highest peaks cast the longest shadows—and shadows hunger. Tell my wife I am sorry. I was not good enough.”

  - Last transmission of Legate Heran, Year 3412.

  A lone duo remained on the other side of the Second Trial’s fiery gate. Heat washed over Dante and Astraeus, the flames licking across the false skin seated atop their flesh. Beneath the masked eye-holes, the human met his friend’s gaze.

  Astraeus saw a shiver run through Dante as if the man felt only the coldness of Surewinter and not the inferno they stood next to. But they could only share this look for a moment as Rosemen shambled toward them, inevitable and eternal.

  “Go! Judas is here! He’ll kill you!” Dante shouted over the roaring wall of blazing embers. As he sensed something off, he had already sent Joan across ahead of schedule.

  Sonna’s echoing scream only sealed the deal that Rejo had to pull her across early. Astraeus’ face shifted beneath his mask, emotions hidden from Dante’s sight.

  A knot formed in the Frigo’s chest, his snow cradled within, protecting him against the invading flame. After all, he was only wearing a thin layer of insulative flesh. When standing in the heat for too long... it began to deteriorate. Rapidly.

  He didn’t want to leave Dante, but as he stared into his companion’s hollow gaze, he didn’t argue. He only left a warning, “Don’t take too long. See you on the other side, Dante.”

  A nod was his sole reply.

  The Anathema dived into the fire properly, seething along the heat. Astraeus dashed through the hundred yards of inferno, rushing with all the swiftness he could manage.

  Dante’s eyes flew past the dead Rosemen at his feat, courtesy of Joan, Astraeus, and the human himself. Lucius and Rejo were the first to cross, the former for his injuries and the latter for emergencies.

  This was one such case.

  Water built upon Dante’s finger, twisting with a cruel Tide. In the distance, he observed Judas, the near identical copy of himself, step out of the hut in annoyance.

  Good. Sonna got out then.

  His thoughts lingered on his crewmate for a mere second as he skipped to the side. The swift evasion of a Rosemen followed up with a Flick, the compressed water slicing a long gash across its body.

  Dante didn’t know why he was waiting. What would he have done if Sonna was captured? Killed? He didn’t know.

  He just had to see for himself.

  However, as he backstepped to escape into the fire, the heat already searing his skin, he felt a gaze fall upon him. Immediately, his head whipped back from the crimson flames.

  Bottomless pools of darkness met him.

  A laugh rang out, slicing through the Rosemen’s kind words and brutal snarls. A dozen of the creatures turned to him, pleading for him to follow them while unsheathing their claws.

  Yet... the instant one came close, water emerged from Judas, bisecting it with the faintest glimmer of effort. The Tide didn’t originate from a hand. It came from the man’s surroundings. A far more impressive feat than any Dante could conjure.

  After the first Rosemen died, all the others diverted their attention from Dante. A howl rang through the night as if the world itself had turned against the lone Hydro.

  However, no matter how many ran toward the man, the piling bodies that squirmed for life did nothing. They all failed to reach a yard from the scarless man.

  “You’re not half-bad, Dante. Got your power back already? Two or three days? It is unfortunate how the 'Sea works with her oaths... Your friends, however...” Judas’ trailing voice glid through the air like ice upon boiling water. All it did was incite a cacophony of rancor.

  Howls deafened Dante, and the man realized something. Judas had never lied to him. Nor had he gone back on a promise. He had only ever withheld information.

  He cannot lie or break promises? Is that some kind of rule he’s made with the Lightsea? Or... is he just that prideful?

  Dante’s mind swarmed with questions, but he couldn’t harbor them in his mind any longer. With each passing moment, Judas came closer and closer.

  The mysterious figure’s every step fell without a halting force. Many tried. All failed.

  Dante could almost see visions of a past, of the countless times this had already occurred to Judas. With a shake of his head, he fixed the disguise over his flesh before bolting out of the frost and deeper into the fire.

  After waiting so long upon the boundary, his protective gear had worn down the most, but he didn’t care. Flames slipped through, adding to his scars and burning his flesh. Still, his feet slammed into the earth harder and more emphatically.

  All he wanted to do was put distance between him and that...

  Monster.

  The endless questions did little to dispel the sense of total despair in Dante’s mind Judas evoked now that he walked amongst the living.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  One step after another, he crossed the three hundred feet in just two agonizing seconds. The water he formed under his feet for speed evaporated the instant it pushed him, providing a greater boost and setting a new record for his speed.

  But this velocity was neither sustainable nor controlled.

  Dante burst from the inferno, bouncing across the bountiful grass swathed in flowers, his flesh set ablaze. A cloak of fire covered him, harming instead of protecting him.

  Unable to concentrate from the sudden shock of slamming into the earth knocking around his brain, he lay still. However, snow and mist covered his burnt figure before any real damage could be done, dousing the spreading conflagration.

  A moment later, Dante rolled onto his back, gasping for air. Already, Joan kneeled beside him. She pulled her captain onto his feet and steadied his head. Her eyes trailed his as she commanded, “Follow my fingers. One. Two. Three.”

  The doctor’s hands moved in a blur, yet Dante could keep up. Joan often played off injuries, annoyed by most people’s plights, but there was a single exception.

  Those that affected the mind. Such stood as the most precious thing to a woman like her. The plasticity and strength of the brain.

  “Good. No concussion...” Her voice echoed amongst the others standing in a circle around her as she tapped Dante’s arms and legs with her four hands. “A few broken bones. Nothing major. You sure are getting tougher.”

  Astraeus chimed in agreement with a sigh of relief, “Yeah. Surewinter increases one’s durability quite a bit. Good thing you’re alright.”

  A second later, Joan’s focus wholly shifted. Her hands dug at Astraeus’ arms, demanding him to teach her the technique and let her test out what it did for him. The Anathema shrugged her off while a low laugh flew from Lucius’ lungs.

  It was hearty, originating from his gut. With the soldier laughing, Rejo joined in with a light-hearted chuckle.

  Now ignored, their captain coughed out some soot from his lungs and shook his head. Then, he rose to his feet with a wobble, noticing Sonna’s oddness.

  The woman stood silent, staring into the distance. Dante stepped toward her, wanting to say something about Judas, until he discovered what lay past Sonna.

  Over her head, he saw an inverted, burning rose, with the roots in the air and stems on the sides staked into the earth. It felt like a crucifix forced to burn eternally. However, it wasn’t anywhere near the right size for such a thing.

  It ascended hundreds of feet into the air, possibly a mile or more. Dante couldn’t tell from a simple glance. All he heard was Sonna’s whisper, “That’s the Inferose?”

  “Yes,” Dante whispered, his voice barely audible as if speaking louder might invoke the wrath of the towering being. “That’s the Inferose.”

  The others turned their gazes upward, captivated and horrified by the sight. The blazing petals curled and unfurled with an otherworldly rhythm as though the Inferose were breathing. Each movement sent a cascade of embers drifting into the air, painting the night sky with an eerie aurora of firelight.

  Before passing the Second Trial, they could only see bits of the Inferose, never the whole picture.

  “It feels alive,” Sonna said, her voice trembling. Between her encounter with Judas and seeing this, she was at her wit’s end. Her hands clenched the fabric of her sleeves as if the mere act of holding something grounded her.

  “It is alive,” Astraeus replied, stepping closer to Dante and Sonna. His lightless, frostbitten hand lifted toward the massive rose, though he did not dare to point directly. “That’s the Third Trial. Then, we can take its Inheritance and its power.”

  Everyone turned to face Astraeus, heeding the Dirge’s wisdom. While his knowledge remained limited in this place, he knew far more than the others.

  The strength of a dimension depended on the number of elements it governed and consumed. Astraeus didn’t know how many tests they would have to face, but he didn’t feel as though it would be many more.

  So, they took only a moment to rest and take off the suits of flesh. Sonna snarled while she watched the others undress, her mind still haunted by Judas and his words.

  However, as no one wanted to wait and see if Judas figured out the way across the wall of fire, the group swiftly prepared to continue.

  Two minutes after Astraeus’ words, the group broke into a sprint, the sprawling field of crimson roses stretching endlessly before them. Each step crushed the fiery blossoms beneath their boots, releasing bursts of ash and embers into the air. The Inferose loomed ahead yet drew nearer, its inverted body a burning monument that reached into the heavens, casting a hellish glow over the landscape.

  As they ran, the heat intensified, waves of oppressive warmth rolling off the colossal rose. However, it didn’t burn their flesh. It only forced their bodies to work toward their limits.

  Sweat slicked their faces and dampened their clothing, but they pressed on, their resolve hardening with every mile. Dante led the way, his strides relentless despite his broken ribs, the others following in determined silence. Joan’s eyes examined every passing object while Rejo’s gaze sat still on the burning roots of the Inferose as they grew larger.

  Minute by minute, the tangled mass of an infernal cage whispered a challenge unto them with its silence. Then, finally, they stood beneath its towering shadow.

  The six came to a stop, respiring with effort after such a long run. All were thankful Archimedes had been left behind. The young boy could not have kept up and would have only slowed them down.

  Eyes shifted upward, and the rolling flames across the crimson stem licked outward as if testing them. But it didn’t hurt, even as they seemed to gather upon Lucius.

  He held out his hand, and the flames burnt away the remnants of the Martian’s spilled azure blood like a feasting predator. Then, the enormous rose’s petals began to shift, a deep groan resonating through the air as they unfurled toward the ground. Each petal gleamed with firelight, inviting and foreboding all at once.

  Everyone turned toward Dante for guidance, and he bit his lip. Then, he nodded toward Rejo, the man bouncing in excitement and purpose. If something went wrong, he could teleport back.

  After tossing his new ‘favorite’ rock onto the ground, Rejo stepped forward first, hesitating not even an ounce before tapping a petal with his boot. The reaction was immediate. The petal surged upward, wrapping around him like a predatory flower, and he disappeared in an instant as it hauled him backward.

  “Rejo!” Lucius shouted, lunging forward, but Astraeus caught his arm, his grip firm. Dante, too, formed his Tide to do something, anything, but the Anathema’s words halted his violence.

  “This is the Third Trial,” Astraeus said, his voice steady despite the uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “How could something ever truly evaluate us when we’re together? Whatever comes next, it wants us alone.”

  Lucius clenched his fists but didn’t argue. It made sense. All of this was a test for the Inferose, not that anyone knew why such a thing existed in the first place. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but there was no real choice.

  As the captain, Dante stepped forward next, “We’ll meet inside then. Everyone, be ready for anything. If you are tired or need to rest, sit for a bit,” he offered everyone some respite. However, he neglected such kindness for himself as his gaze hardened. “I’m going in.”

  Without hesitation, he placed his palm on a petal. Its warmth spread up his arm before the world went black, utterly devouring his sight. The others only saw the petal as it enclosed around him and the glowing fishing rod on his back. Shortly after, the plant's embers pulled them into the Inferose.

  Yet another was gone.

  Lucius met Astraeus’ gaze as the two were ready. The Martian’s wounds weren’t fully healed, but it was enough. He had to continue onward. A few minutes wouldn’t do much at this point. As for the Anathema, he was near his peak conditions.

  A marathon like the one they had run did little to exhaust his physique, and he hadn’t fought yet today. He even felt his Domain Collapse almost returned to him, that fatigued muscle nearly repaired.

  One per day was the limit for the powerful. Most who had unlocked such a technique had to wait far longer for each use.

  With their conditions amiable, the two took their own petals and were stolen away by the Inferose. After their departure, Joan and Sonna stood alone with one another.

  Joan smiled with a madness unique to her as she spoke aloud into the air, not toward any particular individual, “How I wish to know your design... Your birth, your... origin. Ah... There must be a creature out there. Like me... right?”

  Sonna had no answer for the doctor as the Harenlar extended her palm, surrendering herself to the Inferose’s embrace. The petals enveloped her completely, suffocating her senses and drowning her in darkness.

  The timid Weren remained alone. Her eyes watered as she inhaled deep breaths.

  “I’m not useless. I’m not useless!” She proclaimed into the air. Yet no one acknowledged her cry. While she had overcome some of her insecurity, hearing Judas, who possessed Dante’s voice, say such cruel words hurt her deeply.

  Sonna stood up straight to her very tallest height. For a moment, she gathered her courage and resolve. She even recognized how she would have refused to do this just a few months ago. It would have terrified her beyond measure.

  Now, though? While she still had self-confidence issues, she was no longer without a bone in her spine, forced to hide and submit for survival.

  After a tenth and final breath of preparation, she puffed out her chest and slammed her palm upon the petal. Then, the darkness took her, too.

  Time seemed to stretch and bend in the lightlessness, seconds feeling like hours as they floated in the void. All of the six felt it at once. The darkness connected them, acknowledging their presence before a heartbeat emerged. It shook each to their cores, waking them from the slumber-like state.

  Then, the light returned.

  Dante blinked as his vision adjusted, the flickering glow of roses illuminating a small, square room. The walls were covered in burning petals, their flames radiating just enough heat to cast light without scorching his skin. He reached out to touch one, its heat prickling his fingers but not harming him.

  He turned, but there was no one else. He was alone. His eyes wandered the room, ready for his test.

  Then, his heart stopped, for he saw the figure on the other side. It was an identical copy of him.