The first thing Xavier felt was cold.
He opened his eyes and rose.
Above him, there was no ceiling—only a torn expanse of pale sky framed by ruined arches. Snow drifted soundlessly through the wounds in the cathedral roof, falling in silver sheets through broken rib-vaults and jagged beams of stone. It gathered across the floor in a white shroud, covering cracked tiles, fallen masonry, and the bones of a forgotten hall.
For a long moment, Xavier did not move. He simply stared.
Black pillars rose on either side of him, vast and solemn, their surfaces scarred by age, crawling with dead ivy and frost. Time had gnawed at them until they seemed less carved by men than grown from the darkness itself.
This place might once have been a throne hall. Or perhaps a temple.
Now it was a ruin left to winter.
Wind howled through shattered stained-glass windows, carrying loose snow across the floor in ghostly spirals. High above, broken chains swayed from unseen rafters, clinking faintly in the hollow air. The sound was enough to make his skin crawl.
Xavier pushed himself upright; that's when he realised he was not alone here.
Shapes stirred in the snow. Dozens. No… scores. At least fifty figures scattered across the ruined cathedral floor, each wrapped in ragged cloth and rough woven wraps, hardly fit against the cold. Faces pale with shock.
Some were already crying, their voices thin against the vast silence. The same terror lived in every face—no one knew where they were. A woman whispered broken prayers, her lips trembling. Farther away, someone tugged uselessly at their chains, the iron clattering against stone. Another laughed, sharp and hysterical, the sound echoing like a crack in the frozen air.
Snow drifted endlessly through the open roof, soft and silent, merciless in its descent. Xavier's breath fogged before him, his fingers already numb. If this continued, frostbite would claim them long before any monsters ever could.
Then a voice rose above the confusion.
"Gather together!"
Heads turned. A broad-shouldered man had risen, tall despite the weight of his shackles. He waved, signaling for the others to draw near. A scar cut across one side of his face, and though age had marked him, there was a hard steadiness in his eyes—the look of someone who had faced disaster before and refused to kneel.
He lifted a chained hand, the iron glinting in the pale light.
"Closer," he commanded, his voice carrying through the ruin. "All of you. Stay close if you wish to keep warm."
His voice rang out, loud and steady, cutting through the confusion.
People hesitated, uncertain who he was, but in the chaos he seemed the calmest among them. Instinct drove them closer, herded by fear and the need for warmth. Xavier moved as well—this man carried a presence, and perhaps he knew something. Xavier himself had only discovered the existence of this world minutes ago.
One by one, bodies pressed near. Shackles scraped. Breath mingled in the cold air, forming a fragile pocket of warmth.
"My name is Raiden," the man said, his scarred face stark beneath the drifting snow. "If this is what I think it is… then this is the Trial of the Spell World."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, fear sharpening, eyes widening.
Raiden's gaze swept over them. "Panic will kill us before anything else does. Stay together. Watch one another. We survive by reason. This isn't my first time here—it's my second."
The words struck like sparks. A woman cried out, her voice raw. "If this is your second, then you must know how to get us out safely, right?"
Raiden fell silent. The chains at his wrists shifted as he lowered his hand.
"Right, sir," she pressed, desperate.
His reply came low, heavy. "No. That's not how it works. I cannot assure you all will be well. Some of you—most of you—will die here."
The word die hung in the air like a blade. Hope unraveled. Silence spread, thick and suffocating, as the crowd froze beneath the weight of it.
Then the cathedral itself seemed to shudder.
A sound rolled through the ruin—deep, resonant, an impact that trembled through the stone. Dust fell from the broken arches above. Chains rattled. Snow swirled in sudden drafts.
Every head turned.
The silence broke all of a sudden; a deep impact shook the hall.
Then another.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Something was striking the great doors at the far end. Each blow made the ruined cathedral tremble, dust spilling from the arches, frost loosening from the stone.
Silence gripped the crowd tighter than chains. Even breathing seemed to stop.
Then—
Crack.
The old doors burst inward.
And something stepped through.
Screams tore the silence apart. Xavier forgot the cold, forgot the iron biting his wrists, forgot even to breathe.
Because what entered was not born of reason.
The creatures were monstrous beyond description. Their lower bodies resembled horses, but not of flesh—blackened scales wrapped them, jagged plates grinding against one another with every movement. From the gaps between those scales drifted a pale, dark-blue mist, endless, curling around their frames like wandering spirits.
Panic erupted following the rattling of chains as People stumbled back, voices breaking into cries.
The creatures advanced. Not like beasts. Not like men. Their movement was a dreadful, uneven gallop, each step shaking the cathedral floor. Snow fell in sudden showers from the broken pillars, frost sliding from ancient stone in soft streams. The sound of their approach was enough to strangle thought, to crush reason beneath terror.
A scraping of claws echoed through the ruin, followed by the crash of heavy hooves striking marble. Beneath it all came the sound of breathing—slow, deep, and terrible, filling the hall like the pulse of something ancient. Xavier's skin crawled.
Above the waist, the creatures became something far worse. Their torsos stretched unnaturally long, dark-blue flesh pulled tight over protruding ribs. Arms hung low, so grotesquely extended that their clawed fingers nearly brushed the floor with every step.
And their faces—if such things could even be called faces—were eyeless masses of blackened skin, split apart by enormous horns that curved outward from where eyes should have been. No pupils. No gaze. Yet Xavier felt them watching, felt their attention pressing against him like a weight.
The mist that drifted from their scaled lower bodies coiled upward, wrapping their forms in ghostly shrouds. Each movement sent the vapors curling through the air, mingling with the falling snow, blurring the line between flesh and spirit.
Xavier's breath caught. The chains at his wrists seemed suddenly louder, heavier. Around him, people shrank back, their whispers breaking into sobs. The ruined cathedral, once silent, now throbbed with the dreadful rhythm of hooves, claws, and that suffocating breath.
The nearest creature tilted its head, inhaling with a sound that scraped against the silence. A shriek tore from deep within its throat, sharp enough to rattle the broken arches above. Panic erupted. Chains clattered. People screamed. Someone stumbled into the snow, another fell to their knees in prayer. Raiden's face hardened, though even he had gone pale.
Xavier's heart hammered against his ribs. This is my first day here… and I'm already going to die?
He shook his head in refusal to his fate. "No—move".
While the others froze beneath terror, Xavier dropped low, his hands plunging, digging into the snow. His fingers brushed cracked stone. With all his strenght he tore a slab free, the edges jagged and cold against his skin. For a moment he only stared at it, then at the shackles biting into his wrists and ankles.
He raised the stone.
The first strike rang hollow. Iron groaned but held. He struck again, harder. Again. Again. The sound of stone against chain echoed through the ruin, desperate and violent. His arms shook, his breath came ragged, but he did not stop. Each blow sent sparks of pain up his arms, each impact louder than the last.
Then—crack.
The shackle split. Iron snapped away from his wrist. Xavier gasped in disbelief but in relief to what had happened. He struck at the chain on his leg, fury driving him, until at last it too broke free.
The monsters were drawing closer, their steps deliberate, slow, as if savoring the fear. One dragged its claws across a pillar, leaving deep grooves in the ancient black stone. The sound scraped through the hall like a blade.
Xavier backed away through the chaos, clutching the stone tight against his chest. His eyes darted toward the ruined cathedral windows lining the far wall, the only path that seemed to promise escape but open to the snow storm outside.
If he stayed here, he would die. The thought struck Xavier with undeniable clarity.
I need to get back. I just arrived in this world—a second chance to atone. I owe the dead too much to fall here. This is no place for a prince to die.
He shoved through the crowd, shoulders colliding, hands grabbing at him, voices shouting. He ignored them all, forcing his way forward.
The creatures lunged. Chains snapped in unison, the sound echoing like iron breaking. Panic spread instantly—men and women scattered in terror.
Xavier snatched a stone and hurled it.
CRASH.
The stained glass window shattered. A strong gust of wind blasted inward, sweeping through the cathedral. Xavier rubbed his shoulders against the chill, wasting no time. He ran onto the ledge and jumped.
As he fell, his eyes caught sight of the world outside. It was not what he had imagined—snowfields stretched beneath grey skies, forests buried in white.
He plunged into the drift. The snow cushioned his fall, swallowing him whole. Pain jolted through his body, but his bones held.
Xavier rose instantly, gasping. "I survived?!" His hands tapped across his arms, his chest, his legs, making sure nothing was broken.
He looked up. The castle loomed above, its shattered window staring down at him. Without hesitation, Xavier turned and ran.
Above him, Raiden appeared at the shattered window. The older man looked downward once, then immediately turned and waved, signaling the others.
"Everyone here! There's an opening!"
The crowd surged instantly. Men and women shoved one another in blind desperation, bodies colliding as they fought toward the broken frame. Another crash of glass followed, and people began hurling themselves out of the castle.
One man struck a jagged tree trunk hidden beneath the snow. The branch pierced through his chest instantly, leaving him impaled in silence. Another landed poorly and vanished beneath the cliffside rocks with a sickening crack.
Inside the castle was a nightmare. The monsters rushed forward, reaching out for their prey. One of the scaled horrors lunged with terrifying speed, its grotesquely elongated arm shooting through the crowd. It seized a screaming girl by the face. Her cry lasted only a heartbeat before the creature slammed her against the stone floor, blood bursting across the snow.
Another man shoved people aside in blind terror, clawing toward the window. The creature caught him by the leg. A wet, tearing sound echoed through the chamber as his body split apart before he could even finish screaming. Blood sprayed across shattered marble.
The remaining monsters descended upon the corpses immediately. They fed without hesitation, their bodies pressed against the fallen, skin seeping into flesh as they consumed what remained.