Shadow slave: Sovereign of the Unknown

The ruins stretched endlessly before them, the towering structure in the distance serving as their only point of direction. The deeper they moved into the forgotten city, the more unsettling the silence became.

Ash had been in dangerous situations before, but this was different. There was something wrong about this place.

And if the ominous warnings carved into the stone weren't enough to prove it, then the weight pressing down on his chest certainly was.

It felt as if something unseen was watching them.

Waiting.

---

The Spearman's Hesitation

"Hold up," the spearman muttered.

Ash stopped, eyes shifting toward his reluctant companion.

"You feel that?"

Ash gave a slight nod. "Yeah."

It wasn't just paranoia. The very air had grown heavier, thicker. It was almost as if they had crossed some invisible threshold—like they had passed from one layer of the Nightmare into another.

The spearman tightened his grip on his weapon. "We're not alone here."

Ash agreed.

His instincts screamed danger. But there was no turning back now.

---

The Shifting Ruins

They continued forward, their boots crunching against the uneven stone. The further they went, the more the ruins seemed to... change.

At first, it was subtle.

A pillar that had been broken now stood upright.

A collapsed archway was suddenly whole.

Buildings that were once crumbling appeared as if they had never been touched by time.

The ruins were repairing themselves.

Or rather—rewinding.

The spearman stopped in his tracks. "What the hell is happening?"

Ash exhaled, his mind working through the pieces.

"A Nightmare Trial follows its own rules. It isn't bound by the logic of the real world."

But this... this was different.

Most Trials had a set structure—rules that could be understood.

But this?

It was as if the past and present were overlapping.

He placed a hand against a nearby wall, feeling the smooth stone beneath his fingers. No dust. No cracks. It was as if this building had just been built.

That's when he noticed something.

A shadow moving at the edge of his vision.

Not a Nightmare Creature.

Not a monster.

But a person.

---

A Faint Figure

Ash immediately turned toward the movement, but the figure was already gone.

The spearman cursed. "You saw that, right?"

Ash didn't answer immediately. His mind was racing.

That wasn't just some random illusion.

That figure had walked with purpose.

Like they belonged here.

And more importantly—like they knew exactly where they were going.

Ash's grip tightened on his sword.

"...We follow it."

The spearman gave him an incredulous look. "Follow the creepy ghost figure? You serious?"

Ash didn't bother explaining. He just moved.

They had no leads. No real direction beyond the tall structure in the distance. But this figure?

They knew something.

And Ash wasn't about to ignore that.

---

Chasing the Unknown

They moved swiftly through the ruins, stepping through doorways that had once been broken, weaving through streets that now looked pristine.

The city was alive again.

But not in the way it should be.

Every so often, Ash would catch glimpses of the figure—turning a corner, stepping through an archway, vanishing down an alley.

It was leading them somewhere.

And then—

They turned a corner and everything changed.

---

The Forgotten Plaza

They stepped into a wide-open plaza.

A grand, circular courtyard surrounded by massive stone statues.

Each statue depicted a warrior—men and women clad in armor, wielding weapons that seemed far too ornate to belong in a place like this.

And in the center of it all—

A massive stone tablet.

Inscribed with words in a language Ash did not recognize.

The spearman let out a breath. "Okay. That's... unsettling."

Ash's gaze swept across the statues.

There was something off about them.

Their postures were too lifelike.

Like they hadn't been carved.

But rather—turned to stone.

---

A Warning Too Late

Ash approached the tablet in the center of the plaza.

The markings were ancient, the letters carved deep into the stone. He ran his fingers across them, tracing the grooves.

And then—

A familiar pulsing red glow spread across the words.

Just like the warnings before.

The spearman took a step back. "Oh, come on—"

Then the words shifted.

They rearranged themselves before Ash's eyes, forming a new message.

---

"The Guardians do not rest."

"Do not disturb the silence."

"Do not meet their eyes."

---

Ash barely had time to react before he heard it—

The faintest sound of stone cracking.

And then—

A deep, guttural growl.

The statues were moving.

---

The Awakening of the Guardians

A heavy presence filled the air.

One of the massive stone warriors shifted, dust and debris cascading from its ancient form.

Then another.

And another.

Within seconds, all of them were beginning to move.

The spearman paled. "You have got to be kidding me."

Ash immediately backed away, instincts flaring.

"Do not meet their eyes."

His mind snapped back to the warning.

Which meant—

He immediately lowered his gaze, keeping his focus on their weapons and feet.

"Don't look at them directly," he ordered sharply.

The spearman flinched. "What?"

"Just do it!"

The stone warriors stepped forward, their bodies grinding against the earth, their weapons dragging ominously behind them.

Their movements were unnatural.

Slow. Deliberate.

But filled with an overwhelming presence.

They weren't attacking yet.

But Ash knew that the moment someone met their gaze...

The silence would be broken.

And the real fight would begin.

---

A Dangerous Path Forward

Ash's mind raced.

They couldn't fight them head-on.

These weren't normal Nightmare Creatures. They were something older.

Something built into the very fabric of this place.

If they fought blindly, they'd die.

If they panicked, they'd die.

Which meant—they needed a way out.

Ash turned his focus toward the far end of the plaza.

A single pathway.

Leading deeper into the ruins.

Their only escape.

He exhaled sharply. "Follow me. And for the love of whatever gods exist—don't look up."

The spearman swallowed but nodded.

Together, they took their first careful step toward survival. A suffocating silence filled the chamber.

Towering stone guardians stood in perfect formation, their colossal bodies carved from ancient rock, each one holding a weapon that had long since lost its shine. Though they seemed lifeless, Ash knew better.

They were watching.

They were waiting.

He took a slow, measured step forward, his foot barely making contact with the cold stone floor. Behind him, the spearman followed, his breathing controlled, his muscles tense but steady.

Neither of them spoke.

Neither of them dared to break the silence.

The memory of the last fool who had tried to run was still fresh.

The moment his footsteps had echoed in the vast hall, the guardians had moved.

Not sluggishly. Not with hesitation.

But with terrifying speed.

One swing.

That was all it took. A massive halberd cleaved through his body, splitting him in two before he even had a chance to scream. His lifeless corpse had collapsed in a sickening thud, the blood pooling around him as if nothing had ever mattered.

And then—the guardians had returned to their frozen state.

As if nothing had happened.

Ash took another step.

The grand exit loomed ahead—a pair of enormous stone doors adorned with ancient symbols, just a few dozen meters away. So close, yet so far.

Each step felt like an eternity.

And then—he felt it.

A presence.

A heavy, suffocating pressure.

Ash froze.

One of the guardians twitched.

Not by much. Just a slight shift—barely noticeable—but Ash saw it. He felt the change in the air.

The spearman beside him stiffened.

The guardian's massive head turned.

Its hollow, empty eyes locked onto them.

Ash's heart pounded in his chest. His hand itched toward his sword, but he knew—a single mistake meant death.

Then—the guardian moved.

It stepped forward.

The ground shook beneath its weight, a low, rumbling sound filling the chamber.

Ash gritted his teeth.

The trial wasn't over.

It had only just begun.