All Elias saw after stepping into the tear were flashes of stark black wings, beady eyes seemingly peering into his soul and stark metallic claws.
Then the darkness and fog in his mind receded, opening his eyes he was long on a black surface.
Elias stood up and rubbed his forehead before looking at the silver glowing message in front of him.
[You have entered the Trial]
Elias stared at the words floating ominously in front of him, frowning.
"It gives me no information. Why are they called Trials if they don't even tell you what the trial is?" he muttered, voice sharp with frustration.
He kicked a loose black stone, sending it skittering across the barren ground. The sound echoed strangely in the emptiness around him.
He was going to die here. He could feel it in his bones.
Looking around, Elias realized with mounting dread that there was nothing in sight—no trees, no plants, not even a blade of dead grass. Only endless black rocks stretching to every horizon. Above, the bright azure sky blazed down relentlessly, the sun a cruel, merciless eye with not a single cloud for mercy.
The heat pressed against him like a heavy blanket. His skin already felt dry, his throat beginning to itch. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and scanned the horizon again, desperate for any landmark.
Nothing.
"Where the hell am I?" he whispered, the sound devoured by the vast emptiness.
He had prepared for the Trial Realm—at least, he thought he had. The dusty old tomes and brittle maps he'd studied never once mentioned a black desert.
It was supposed to be forests, ruins, maybe some wastelands at worst.
Not… whatever this hellscape was.
He fished into his pack and pulled out a few battered water bottles. Not nearly enough for a proper expedition. Food was non-existent. If he wanted to survive, he'd have to hunt.
If anything even lived in this wasteland.
Sighing heavily, he decided to check his Status. It wouldn't help to complain; he needed to know what tools he had.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the Mark burned into his soul. As he'd read in the Ardent Library, if he concentrated, his information would appear. Sure enough, a voice echoed in his mind.
[Congratulations on Awakening.]
***
Name: Elias Ashgrave
Rank: Awakened
Mark: Theater Master
– You are a master of Illusions, creating things from the imagination to trick the crowd. Your illusions manipulate sights and sounds, weaving false realities.
Traits: [Illusionist], [Last of the Marionettes]
Abilities: [Simple Trick], [Blessing of Darkness]
Items: [NULL]
Elias blinked at the floating window, dumbfounded.
Well, the Items part made sense. He had nothing except the clothes on his back and a few supplies.
The Mark… he guessed it fit, too.
But crows?
He distinctly remembered feeling a strange presence—black wings, cold eyes—when he Awakened. What did crows have to do with a theater?
Shrugging it off, he focused on his Traits.
***
[Illusionist]: Your illusions appear exactly as you imagine them.
[Last of the Marionettes]: A theater must have a crowd, and the crowd must bear witness to a cast. The Puppet Master is a storyteller who creates entire worlds from imagination. You are his final puppet.
Elias felt a chill race down his spine.
"His final puppet?" he whispered aloud. "Who the hell is the Puppet Master?"
A thousand theories flitted through his mind, but none stuck.
It was a mystery for later.
He turned his attention to his Abilities.
***
[Simple Trick]: Create an auditory or visual illusion.
[Blessing of Darkness]: The Puppet Master pulls strings from the shadows. As his Marionette, you are cloaked in darkness. When hiding in shadows, your presence is obscured. You can see clearly in complete darkness.
One active skill, one passive.
Not exactly a powerhouse, but not useless either.
He closed his hand into a fist and then opened it again, imagining a flame dancing above his palm.
Immediately, a small ball of fire bloomed into existence.
It crackled, bright and lively—but gave off no heat.
Illusion.
Elias grinned… right before he staggered a little, lightheaded.
Mana drain.
He clenched his teeth and let the illusion vanish.
"Alright… useful, but risky if I spam it," he muttered.
Still, an idea was forming. Tricks, traps, and deception. That was his way.
With a sigh, Elias started walking.
There was no sense in staying still; survival meant moving.
His boots crunched against the black stones, the endless wasteland stretching in every direction. He let his mind wander, thinking of all the ways he could use his abilities. His illusions would be his greatest weapons—but they were also his greatest liabilities. Every trick cost mana, and once drained, he would be defenseless.
Time passed in a strange, detached way.
There were no landmarks to mark his progress, no shade to track the sun's movement.
Only the oppressive heat, the dry rasp of his breathing, and the endless crunch of stones underfoot.
Not a single living thing stirred.
Not a bird, not a bug.
Not even a whisper of wind.
He didn't trust it.
Hours later, as the sky deepened to a rich, bruised purple, Elias found himself atop a large hill—one of the rare rises in the landscape.
The setting sun turned the black stones into a field of crimson glass.
Elias sat, knees pulled to his chest, and stared at the horizon.
He thought about what it would be like to have someone to stand watch shifts.
But even that small comfort was a dangerous wish.
He hadn't seen another soul since the Trial began.
Who was to say what would come at night?
As if summoned by his pessimism, a faint crunching noise reached his ears.
His blood ran cold.
"I just had to run my fat mouth, didn't I?" he hissed, crouching low.
Snatching up a jagged rock, he held it like a crude knife, peeking over the ridge.
At the base of the hill, something moved.
It was huge—three meters long at least—with dry, pink skin stretched tightly over a skeletal frame.
A grotesque fusion of a mole and rat, its enormous claws digging into the earth.
Its eyes were sealed shut, but its back bristled with thick, javelin-sized quills.
Elias' stomach twisted.
It was blind.
But that didn't mean it was harmless.
His body froze, instincts screaming at him to hide.
Looking down, he noticed something strange—his body was blending into the darkness itself. The shadows wrapped around him, obscuring him perfectly.
[Blessing of Darkness] was active.
A small surge of hope flickered in his chest.
And then, the monster turned its head directly toward him.
It let out a low, guttural growl—and charged.
Fast. Too fast.
Elias dropped his useless stone and bolted.
Panic surged through him as he sprinted down the hill, stones biting into his ragged shoes.
The beast thundered after him, its massive form bulldozing the landscape.
'What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't fight that thing!' he thought wildly.
His breath came in ragged gasps, legs burning with effort.
The monster was gaining.
Its rancid breath washed over him, and the ground trembled under its weight.
Elias risked a glance back—and stumbled.
A jagged stone sliced across his cheek as he hit the ground hard.
He looked up just in time to see the beast's yawning maw descending toward him—
And then, it stopped.
The creature froze, shuddering, before turning away and shuffling off, confused.
"What the hell?" Elias croaked, stunned.
Footsteps pounded behind him.
"Hurry up and run! It won't stay like that forever!" a voice shouted.
He turned to see a small blond girl racing toward him, waving frantically.
No time to question it.
Elias scrambled to his feet and sprinted after her.
"What the hell happened?!" he panted.
"Can you save the questions until we're not about to die?" she snapped.
Fair enough.
But even as he ran, Elias felt something strange—a wave of fear that wasn't his own, sharp and biting.
It clung to him, making his skin crawl.
'Her ability…' he thought grimly. 'It's affecting emotions.'
It was a clever trick.
Had she made the beast afraid somehow? Confused it enough to flee?
"I found a cave earlier!" the girl shouted over her shoulder. "We can hide there!"
Elias nodded grimly, forcing his aching legs to push harder.
Behind them, the monster let out a frustrated shriek—but it wasn't following.
Small miracles.
After nearly an hour of cautious travel, the girl led them to a strange mound of stone.
She circled it once, muttering, then abruptly vanished—as if the earth had swallowed her.
Elias blinked.
"What the hell—"
A pale hand shot up through the rocks, grabbing his wrist.
"Come on!" she hissed.
Reluctantly, he let her pull him down.
He braced for impact, expecting to slam into solid stone—
Instead, he landed awkwardly atop the girl, the ground soft and yielding beneath him.
They stared at each other for a frozen second before Elias scrambled off, face burning.
'If she has a problem with it, she shouldn't have yanked me,' he thought defensively.
Clearing his throat, he looked around.
They were inside a wide, hollow tunnel—the air damp and heavy, but blessedly cool.
"Where are we?" he asked finally.
The blond girl hesitated, then muttered, "An old tunnel… one of those things made it."
Elias felt a shiver creep down his spine.
Still, it was safer than outside.
Probably.
They walked deeper into the tunnel, their footsteps echoing softly.
After a few minutes of silence, Elias ventured another question.
"We're not gonna get attacked again, right?"
The girl stopped dead, turning to glare at him.
For a brief moment, Elias felt a surge of irritation—not his own—flare up inside him.
"No," she said sharply. "Would I have brought us here if we were?"
She spun on her heel and stalked ahead without another word.
Elias stared after her, exasperated.
'What is her problem?'
He sighed, trudging after her into the darkness