The canyon of betrayal dissolved into mist, leaving Kael and Lyra standing on a barren plain. The ground was cracked, stained dark as though it had drunk countless battles. The air was heavy, metallic, carrying the scent of iron.
Kael frowned, gripping the Trialblade tighter. "Okay… this place smells like a slaughterhouse. I'm guessing this isn't a picnic."
Lyra's voice was solemn, her silver hair flowing like moonlight. "The Trial of Blood. It demands sacrifice. Not of wit, not of trust, but of flesh and spirit. Here, the realm decides if you are willing to bleed for it."
Kael groaned. "Sacrifice? Fantastic. I barely survived cardio, storms, and therapy. Now I have to donate blood?"
The ground trembled. From the cracks rose warriors clad in crimson armor, their eyes glowing with hunger. Each carried weapons dripping with shadow, their movements sharp, relentless.
Kael raised the Trialblade. "Of course. Blood knights. Because regular monsters weren't dramatic enough."
Lyra lifted her staff, her voice steady. "They are echoes of sacrifice. Heroes who gave everything, twisted into guardians of this trial. To pass, you must endure their blades—and give something in return."
Kael muttered, "Endure blades? Great. I always wanted to be a pincushion."
The blood knights attacked, their strikes heavy, precise. Kael blocked desperately, sparks flying as the Trialblade clashed against crimson steel. Each impact sent pain through his arms, his body trembling.
Lyra's magic flared, barriers of light holding back some of the knights. "Kael! The Trialblade resonates with sacrifice. It will not accept victory without cost."
Kael shouted back, "Cost? I'm already paying with sweat and sarcasm!"
One knight struck, its blade slicing across Kael's arm. Blood spilled, staining the ground. The Trialblade pulsed violently, glowing brighter as if feeding on his pain.
Kael gasped. "Oh great. My sword's a vampire."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "Not vampire. It accepts your blood as proof. The realm demands sacrifice to grant strength."
Kael gritted his teeth. "Figures. Even my sword wants me to suffer."
The knights pressed harder, their blades cutting deeper. Kael stumbled, blood dripping, his vision blurring. Yet each drop made the Trialblade flare brighter, its aura sharper.
Lyra's voice rang out. "Endure, Kael! The trial does not seek your death—it seeks your will to bleed for life!"
Kael smirked weakly. "Well, bleeding's easy. Staying alive's the hard part."
With a roar, Kael swung the Trialblade, its glow blazing crimson. The blade cut through the knights, shattering their armor, dissolving them into mist. The ground trembled, the cracks sealing, the plain calming.
Kael collapsed, panting, blood staining his clothes. "I swear, this realm is trying to kill me with cardio and blood loss."
Lyra rushed to his side, her magic weaving into his wounds, slowing the bleeding. "You endured. The Trial of Blood accepts you."
Kael smirked weakly. "Yeah? Maybe next time, the trial can just ask for a signature instead of stabbing me."
Lyra shook her head, though a faint smile betrayed her amusement. "You complain, yet you endure. That is strength."
Kael chuckled. "Or stupidity. Still hard to tell the difference."