"Tell me, visitor, how you have obtained such a profound curse, that is expanding within your body?" Father Morn asked, pointing the sword at him, "The black flames that endlessly sprout from that curse immediately kindle upon contact with blood and flesh."
"Though, the curse of Rotting Death can only sprout in one's body through an influx of Abstract Essence. Yet, what befuddles me even more is that you also have traces of demon blood flowing within you."
"But, it shouldn't be that much of a concern in comparison seeing as it isn't affecting you as much." The priest said, earning a surprised glance from Michael.
"So, answer my question, and answer quickly."
Scott blinked, and mustered the words:
"I don't know."
"…" Michael glanced nervously at Father Morn, whose expression didn't change much.
"…Fascinating."
"Very fascinating indeed. Your answer was not what I expected," Father Morn replied, putting down his weapon, "But it makes sense. Someone who has lost their sanity will never hold the power of Hisbiril's Mark. Though, I do wonder how you possess demon blood."
Michael puffed a sigh of relief. "I knew Father Morn was testing you!"
Father Morn nodded. "I am quite already interested in you, visitor. What is your name?"
"…Scott," Scott replied, stating the only part of his identity he somehow knew, "…But… why did you feel the need to do that, as a "test", if you knew my answer already?"
Father Morn disregarded his question in an instant. "There is no need for you to pry into the mind of the wise. From what I can already tell, you are just as immature and inexperienced as the boy next to you so you wouldn't understand my words just yet."
"However, if I can guess a reason why your body is in such a state… perhaps it could be because of the knowledge-seeking tendencies that would emerge from that Arcane Mark?"
"What do you mean?" Scott asked, curious about these "tendencies" of his.
"…You disciples and followers of Hisbiril's Cathedrals certainly are the most obsessed with the art of alchemy and pure magic, after all, and turning your own body into a giant cauldron of materials to use may not be off-limits…"
"But, I suppose that you no longer wish for that. Come, so that I may cleanse you of the filth." Father Morn said. Following this, Scott approached the Bloodsoaked Altar closer, following after the priest, who had picked up a long, bladed weapon.
"For this ritual to work, you must be stabbed through the heart with the Ritualistic Spear of Oaths, but you must also be touching the branch of the Tree of Divinity." Father Morn said, nodding his head at the large tree.
"The branches of the Tree of Divinity, the leylines of this world, sprouting randomly all across the lands from the interconnected network of roots at the centre of the Almighty Dream, can alter and rebirth anyone through the "Trial of Enigmata". It may have some adverse effects, but it won't be worse than the state of your body currently."
Scott nodded, turning and facing the great branch one last time before the trial began. For some reason, the branch looked… "familiar" in an odd way to him, but he felt it was nothing and quickly shook off that feeling.
"Stabbed through the heart… well, if I'll live through it, then I'm fine with that," Scott said, placing his full trust in the priest, "Alright. Let's do this."
Father Morn nodded and closed his eyes, gesturing for Scott to do the same, before approaching him slowly. On the way, he chanted short utterances in an ancient language Scott had never heard of before, and struck the ground in short intervals until he reached him.
"I plead to ignite the instrument of Glamar's cathedrals, with the Vanquisher's Fleshflame."
"Upon Glamar's grace, a child of Hisbiril wishes to enter the Trial of Enigmata for renewal of the body."
"Old World Gods, grant it to us, in Your Almighty name."
At that second, the Ritualistic Spear of Oaths blazed brightly with the intensity of crimson flames, that seemed almost alive.
"This will hurt. Tense yourself." Father Morn said. Scott did just that, and the spear of crimson flames pierced through his body and flesh, stabbing him into the great branch in a gruelling way.
But then, pure light seeped from his wound, which caught the attention of the priest.
"What is this…" He said, as he closely inspected some of the strange essence coming out of Scott's body, now with Michael joining right beside him.
"Could it be the power of a Boon…?"
Meanwhile, as his body was dead, Scott's soul had been transported into the "Trial of Enigmata".
***
The Grimlands, 1883, the middle of April… during the execution of the Twilight Emperor, the fifth king of the Alliance of Swords & Crowns.
It was a harrowing, dark and dim day, just like Scott remembered. He was five years old at the time, yet he still remembered this scene clearly, as more than hundreds of thousands of people gathered to watch the grand execution at Halzstrom Palace.
At this moment, his soul watched everything from above, and he saw the traitor's face for himself. With long, curly black hair that extended to his knees, a shaven face that represented cleanliness, even on the day he was going to die, paired with ever-glancing, sinister, hollow eyes and a sly smile on his face, that mocked the crowd that so dearly wished to tear him apart.
Then, the man who was going to execute him, the Steel Emperor, announced his words, proclaiming it to the crowd beneath.
"…This man has betrayed the faith and hope of all living beings. Shattering the trust the Alliance has built with you all. We, as warriors who have fought against the Demonic Tide for a long time, must NEVER collude with the Gods!"
"…Yet, this man, who you see here today, from the balcony of the palace, has done just that, claiming that he will obtain "nigh-infinite" power in the paradise he says they have planned for us."
"…He is a fool. A traitor. And, an idiot."
"So, because of his foolishness, I shall swear an oath today."
The Steel Emperor proclaimed with all of his might:
"On my heart and soul, and the heart and souls of the remaining Twelve Kings and Seventeen Commander Knights of the Alliance of Swords & Crowns, I swear, even after our deaths, if the Gods have not been warded away, we will rise again and again, as the light and hope for not only the human race but for all living beings!"
The face of Twilight Emperor twitched, and he looked furious for a moment, just before his head flew off his shoulders, by the Steel Emperor's Black Greatsword.
And then, the Trial of Enigmata concluded. Melting away like the wax of a candle. Meanwhile, only a few words echoed in his head, as he returned to reality:
"10,000 years from now…"
"…Forget…"
***
Meanwhile, lying on the great branch, Scott's eyes fluttered. His breath was audible again, yet, uneven. A bright light coalesced with the abnormalities within him and renewed him entirely.
His hair, which was pale white and lengthy, gradually grew shorter and shorter, and both his facial and bodily features grew chiselled, giving him a similar likeness to that of a precisely sculpted marble statue. And then, finally, his eyes gained their colour once again.
It was as if something hidden from him had become unveiled, allowing both his soul and body to become whole again.
The large Arcane Mark, visible on his chest, had only become more defined, however, and although his arm's deformities had vanished, the demon blood's coalescence with the bright light allowed for an extraordinary alchemy ingredient to naturally flow inside of him.
"…To think that this child has God's Grace within him. A Boon," Father Morn replied, staring at him, "With such a power, he could become a Transcendent Saint of Hisbiril in the future."
"Someone like that hasn't appeared for a thousand years," Michael murmured, "But, from what I can sense from him, the Vanquisher's Fleshflame has also coalesced within him. I'm not sure if they'd be willing to accept him because of that…"
"Ah, it'll be fine. The value of a Boon far exceeds tradition," Father Morn said, and before slowly walking away, "Michael, a young disciple of the cathedral, I am now quite thankful to you for bringing this young man."
"Now, he owes me a favour in the future, heh-heh. In fact, because of this, I give you full permission to go along with him, wherever he goes." Father Morn said, chuckling as he left, leaving Michael with his mouth open agape, "He is now your responsibility."
"Finally! Oh, thank you so much, Father Morn!"