The blood Dexter saw Enzo spill weighed heavily on him. He couldn't remain idle even if he wanted to. Did didn't want to face that monstrosity—he didn't want to die—attempted the transmigration spell again. He tried knew formats meditation, and occultism, hoping it would send him back to his own world—but nothing happened. It didn't work.
He hesitated and even considered running away, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it—the thought of leaving Daylan's family alone with the debt only deepened his guilt. With no other choice, he began questioning others about their trials, listening intently and summarizing their experiences to better grasp the nature of the tests—and to learn more about the world around him.
Through his investigation, Dexter realized that the trials truly lived up to their name. They weren't random at all—they were drawn from the very soul of each person, which was what made every trial uniquely personal.
The Luck Trial was based on a person's fortune, the Worth Trial on their inherent value—but when it came to the Fate Trial, he found no one to question. Most people avoided it entirely, and those who attempted it… only a few came back.
The exact events within each trial weren't something he could prepare for or outsmart. Still, he picked up a hint—most of the other trials seemed to center around themes like survival, victory, patience, and determination.
Yet, he had no idea if the Fate Trial would follow the same path… or something far more terrifying.
The days slipped by before he knew it. Despite his limited knowledge, he had no choice—he had to succeed in the trial. He couldn't risk ending up like Enzo's victims, and more importantly, he had to protect his pitiful family from the same fate.
Dexter and Medora stood before Daylan's family, who wept as they said their goodbyes. Their presence overwhelmed him—he lacked the emotional strength to face it with ease. If they had been his own family, he knew he couldn't have left them behind. He kept blurting out reassurances, repeating again and again that he would be fine—that he would make it through.
Before long, Medora gestured for them to head to the church for his trial. A carriage stood nearby, waiting patiently for them to climb in.
Dexter said his final goodbyes and stepped into the carriage with Medora. The moment he sat down, a wave of fear washed over him. He fidgeted with his fingers, and his leg shook uncontrollably. The weight of the trial loomed over him.
He knew the risk was immense—if he failed, he'd lose everything, even his life. He kept trying to reassure himself, but deep down, a part of him couldn't help but blame Daylan for dragging him into this with his reckless choices.
As his mind drifted into doubt and fear, Medora's voice cut through the haze, snapping him back to reality with her words.
"Promise you will return. It doesn't matter if you succeed or fail, just come back, Day."
Dexter turned to her and gave her a firm nod.
I still don't get it. Why did Daylan kill himself if he had all these wonderful people?… All I had back there is my career, and yet, I want to go back. What exactly was he going through?
Despite the hardships that came with Daylan's life, there were parts of it Dexter would die for—a true friend and a loving family. If he'd had those in his previous life, maybe he wouldn't have ended up drowning in depression and monotony.
They arrived at the church premises in no time. Dexter glanced around, hoping to see others nearby—but to his disappointment, the area was completely deserted.
Medora stepped off the carriage, and Dexter followed close behind, his head darting around anxiously as he scanned the silent surroundings.
"People hate the Fate Trial this much?"
Medora stood motionless, his flickering eyes gazing at Dexter's.
In an instant, she pulled Dexter into a tight hug. Before he could process what was happening, a sharp pain shot through his head. He quickly pulled her away, staggering back as he clutched his temples, wincing in agony.
What is going on? What's this sudden pain?
Medora stepped closer, concern etched on her face. As soon as she tapped his shoulder, Dexter slowly tilted his head toward her, his eyes clouded with confusion and pain.
"I won't fail this time, Medora."
Dexter's eyes widened. A strange sensation washed over him—those words weren't his, yet he knew they were. For a moment, it was as if he was Daylan.
"Are you okay?"
Dexter gave a firm nod. Gritting his teeth through the agony, he pushed himself upright. He couldn't bear the concern on Medora's face. The trial and his identity crisis were his battle now—one he had to face alone. The pain was his to carry.
Medora smiled, resting her hand on Dexter's shoulder.
"I've never seen you this confident before. Normally, I'd have to drag you in here. But now… you seem different. I'm glad you're finally starting to believe in yourself, Day."
Dexter smiled. For some reason, everything she said felt familiar.
Without a moment's hesitation, Dexter turned and walked toward the church entrance, waving at her over his shoulder. He had no idea where he was going, yet his body moved with certainty. His steps were precise, deliberate—as if he'd walked these grounds many times before.
As soon as he stepped inside, a hall opened up to his left. A massive portal stood against the wall, flanked by a man and a lady standing guard.
Right… This is the portal for the Fate Trial.
He walked forward, approaching the guards. As soon as he neared the portal, the lady voiced out.
"What's your name, Sir?"
"Daylan Rhys."
Just as his mind wandered the man spoke. "You won't give up, huh?… I admire your courage, just come back."
Dexter looked at him and smiled.
"Daylan Rhys, Sir. I'm certain you are well aware of the protocols of the Fate Trial, but I would like to enlighten you."
The lady said.
"Depending on your trial, if you believe you can't handle it, you can simply return through the portal. Any damages inflicted on you there will affect you physically—but that would still depend on your trial.
Once you enter and return, the trial can't be taken again. It's a choice between failure or victory—no second chances. If you feel unprepared, now is the time to leave, before it's too late.
If that isn't the case, then I simply welcome you to the Fate Trial, Daylan Rhys."
Dexter gave a firm and strode forward for the portal. Before he could enter, the man murmured.
"If you fail, I'd suggest you don't come back." His expression was darkened and his eyes stared directly at Dexter's.
Without a word, Dexter entered the portal.
Before him was a natural staircase made of giant rock terraces ascending between two cliffs, with each covered in lush greenery and cascading waterfalls. The water flowed calmly down the step, creating a series of falls that pooled into a body of water below.
His eyes were widened. The beauty was not only captivating but the glowed warmth—unlike anything he had ever seen.
Welcome to the Fate Trial, Daylan Rhys.
What is that?— his eyes darted around in confusion.
Mission: Arrive at the Meta.
Duration: Two weeks.
Dexter waited a bit, waiting for more details about the Meta or perhaps a map, but the system said nothing.
After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence and waiting, he finally realized—there weren't going to be any more details.
It seems easy… based on what they've said, there must be more to this task.
The portal loomed behind him, while before him lay the rocks and the cascading waterfall. There was no path forward—only the towering rock stairs to climb.
He waded through the water, making his way to the first rock. It was his first time climbing anything—he hadn't even touched a ladder before.
He fixed his gaze on the rock, running his palm over its surface, searching for rough edges to grip for a boost.
This will be hard, at least chalk would have been better. My fingers will grow numb at this point.
He called out, asking for chalk—or maybe gloves—but no one answered. With a sigh, he turned his attention back to the task at hand.
He propped his leg against an edge, gripping another just above his head, repeating the motion. His fingers ached, his body trembled, and before he realized it, he was crashing back into the water.
Wait… how far did I get? I climbed forever, and I still wasn't able to hurt from a fall.
Dexter was many things, but athletic was not one of them. He had always been physically lazy—too lazy to even walk two miles to the grocery store. So, despite how easy the trial seemed, it was the hardest challenge he'd ever faced.
After lazily floating on the water for a while, he got up and stretched his body, preparing himself for the next round.
This is a life-and-death situation, I can't be acting lazy like I always do.
He tried again but slipped and fell into the water before making much progress. Without wasting a moment, he climbed back up, only to crash back into the water once more.
At this point, he was done for the day. He floated helplessly, his body aching and his mind empty, with only the thought of sleep occupying his every thought.
Warning: Resting time exceeded. Failure to resume participation by the tenth count will result in disqualification. One, two, three…
What?
Dexter sprang to his feet, rushing toward the rock to begin climbing. In that instant, the counting stopped.
He kept trying, falling more often than not, but he refused to give up. After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to scale the first rock.
"Yeah!!" He yelled in relief, his fingers feeling numb, his legs trembling and he was drenched in water.
Before him lay nothing but stairs he had to leap onto. Pushing through his agony, he wore a confident smile as he leaped from one rock to another.
There were seven rocks, and beyond the last one lay a lush forest. As soon as he leaped from the final rock, he found himself standing before the portal.
Wait, what?… What happened? Did I just teleport back?