"I am not you..." The distorted figure’s movements stiffened, its words cutting off abruptly.
Its body dissolved like sand scattered by the wind, vanishing as if it had never been there at all. In its place, only a small Slime remained.
Violet blinked her small eyes, looking around in confusion before turning to Arthur, as if to ask what had just happened.
Arthur gazed at the faint, flickering flame left in the lantern and knelt on one knee.
"I am sorry, Lady Violet. I... failed to pass the trial."
Before Violet could say anything, the last wisp of flame in the lantern flickered gently and went out. The world was once again plunged into a pure, impenetrable darkness.
Arthur could hear nothing and see nothing. He couldn’t even tell if his feet were on solid ground. All he felt was his body, falling endlessly through the boundless void of this Dream Realm...
Despite the intense feeling of weightlessness, an overwhelming drowsiness washed over him like a tide, threatening to drown him in the pitch-black abyss.
Arthur vaguely realized, ’If I give up the struggle and let myself fall asleep, my consciousness will be trapped here forever. Everything will truly be over.’
He tried to struggle, to grasp at anything, even if it was only the void itself.
But from the abyss below, countless black thorns grew with frenzied speed, wrapping around his limbs and torso, binding him ever tighter.
Sharp barbs mercilessly pierced his illusory flesh, bringing a very real, sharp pain. Blood seeped from the wounds, staining the thorns—and his own gradually fading body—crimson.
’Is this how it ends...?’
He kept his head tilted up, his gaze fixed on the unseen space above him, the determination in his eyes not wavering in the slightest.
The black thorns coiled tighter and more numerous, almost completely encasing him.
They scraped against his body, stripping away his illusory flesh to reveal the pale bones beneath. In the end, he had reverted to a scarred and battered skeleton.
Even though the faint blue soulfire in his empty eye sockets had rekindled, it was slowly being obscured as more and more black thorns wrapped around him.
His body was sinking.
His consciousness was fading.
The darkness was like the heavy lid of a coffin about to seal shut. Just as the last glimmer of hope seemed about to be extinguished, he suddenly saw a light.
It was a sliver of silver light, like moonlight piercing through a thick blanket of clouds—soft, yet resolute, as it drifted down from above.
As it drew near, the menacing black thorns seemed to have met their nemesis. They let out a silent hiss and retreated in unison.
Arthur subconsciously reached out and caught the sliver of silver light.
He looked down. Lying in his palm was a silver badge, its edges slightly worn.
Engraved in the center of the badge was a Frost Wolf and crossed swords—the crest of the Arevalo Clan.
It was the badge that symbolized the honor of a Frost Wolf Knight.
The one Alice had given him in the swamp several months ago.
Then, he saw pitch-black feathers drift down from above, landing softly at his feet.
The feathers didn’t vanish. Instead, they converged, forming a stable platform that caught him and halted his descent.
The last thing to fall was a plump, green Slime. The instant it touched the boundless darkness below, a ring of vibrant green light radiated out from it, expanding rapidly like ripples on water.
Wherever the green light passed, the darkness melted away like snow. Tender green grass sprouted from the ground, spreading rapidly.
In an instant, Arthur found himself standing on a vast, verdant prairie.
Overhead, the sky was a brilliant, clear blue, with a few fluffy white clouds drifting lazily by. A gentle breeze carried the fragrance of grass and wildflowers from the softly rolling hills on the distant horizon.
In the center of the prairie grew a massive, lush oak tree.
He didn’t understand what was happening. He had clearly failed the trial, and the lantern had gone out. Why... was he here?
Just then, a green Slime appeared, hopping over to him. It was Violet.
"Because there was no trial to begin with."
"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, confused.
Violet huffed. "I’m saying there was no such thing as a trial from the very beginning."
"Arthur, you already possess something far more precious than any trial: a Knight’s humility, honesty, compassion, and integrity; a love for life and the will to protect it... and this meaningful journey you’ve undertaken."
"These qualities, this experience—they are the true source of your strength. They are the very color of your soul."
She paused, her voice softening. "Try to relax, Knight. The answer has been in your heart all along."
"I’ll... try..."
Arthur took a tentative step, then began walking toward the giant oak tree in the center of the prairie.
The grass was soft and springy underfoot, and the air was filled with a refreshing fragrance that put his mind at ease, causing him to relax in spite of himself.
He eventually stopped in front of the oak tree, leaned back against its rough trunk, and slowly sat down.
He gently placed the Slime he was holding onto the grass beside him. Then he looked up at the azure sky, which seemed capable of washing away all his worries.
The jumbled, anxious thoughts in his mind gradually dissipated like mist in a gentle breeze, replaced by an unprecedented sense of peace.
So quiet.
So beautiful.
He didn’t know how long he sat there in silence. Time seemed to lose all meaning. He opened his palm and stared blankly once more at the silver badge and the black feather resting there.