Elias stood in the ruins of the Cursed Citadel, the last remnants of the Phantom Queen's fortress slowly dissipating into the air. The floor beneath him was cracked, covered in remnants of shattered illusions and fading spirits. The battle had taken everything from him, but the victory was his.
Nythra lay defeated, her ethereal form disintegrating into mist, her power no longer a threat. The air in the Citadel, which had once been thick with the stench of death and decay, had cleared. Silence filled the halls, broken only by the faint echoes of spirits lost to the void.
Elias took a deep breath, still feeling the sting of his wounds, though they were healing faster than they should have. His connection to the powers he'd absorbed was growing stronger. He could feel the energy pulsing within him, like a storm waiting to be unleashed. He couldn't help but wonder what this journey would do to him in the end. The Trial had transformed him, but at what cost?
He walked toward the center of the Citadel, where Nythra's throne had once stood. As he approached, a faint glow emanated from the ground. The trial's reward was ready to be claimed.
Suddenly, he felt a shift in the air-his body reacting instinctively. Something deep within him stirred, and the energy he'd absorbed from Nythra began to pulse stronger. He'd unlocked something new-another skill, another weapon in his arsenal.
Soul Eater. He had learned the name of this new power.
The ability to absorb the souls of the defeated, replenishing his energy, strengthening his resolve. It was both a boon and a curse. The more he used it, the more his humanity slipped through his fingers. But there was no turning back now. He had to survive. He had to keep moving forward.
Elias reached out, the power of Soul Eater now coursing through his veins, draining the last remnants of Nythra's essence into him. He could feel his wounds healing faster, his energy returning.
Once he had absorbed all he could, a strange stillness fell upon him. He had done it. The Trial was far from over, but he had survived another battle. And with it, he had gained power-the power of the afterlife itself.
For a moment, Elias allowed himself a breath of relief. He had faced death, stared into the abyss, and come out victorious. But he knew this was only the beginning. He would need to be stronger, to master the powers within him if he ever hoped to face the true enemy that awaited him-the god that had killed his family.
With a final glance at the decaying remains of the Cursed Citadel, Elias turned and walked toward the gate. The Trial was not yet over, but he was one step closer to his goal.