Trial By Fire Part 1-4

Chapter 30: Trial By Fire Part 1

The demon shaman lunged, its claws trailing wisps of dark energy. Shiro, spurred by the God of Death's words, finally reacted with intent. Golden light erupted from his palms, raw Kegou coalescing into a chaotic blast.

"Burn Weave!" the voice echoed in his mind, the first tendrils of understanding weaving into his actions. The blast struck the demon, forcing it back, but the dark energy around it flickered, absorbing the impact.

The demon hissed, its eyes burning brighter. Illusions shimmered around Shiro – his mother, his friends, their faces twisting into grotesque mockeries. "Not this time!" he roared, forcing his eyes shut. He focused on the chaotic energy within, feeling its raw power. The God of Death's voice guided him. "Feel the threads, Shiro! The tension in their weave! They are lies, born of fear!"

He could feel them now – subtle vibrations in the air, a discordant hum against the steady thrum of his own Kegou. He lashed out blindly, golden tendrils of energy tearing through the illusions. The demon snarled, its claws extending into wicked blades of solidified shadow. It moved with impossible speed, a blur of darkness. Shiro barely dodged, feeling a searing pain as one of the blades grazed his arm.

Chapter 30: Trial By Fire Part 2

Pain ignited Shiro's rage, and his Kegou flared. The golden light intensified, becoming white-hot. He was no longer just reacting; he was attacking. He channeled the Kegou into his fists, each punch a miniature explosion of karmic force. The demon staggered back, its shadowy form flickering.

"You want to torment me with ghosts?" Shiro screamed, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I've already lived through hell!" He unleashed a barrage of Burn Weave, each blast more potent than the last. The demon countered with waves of psychic energy, trying to overwhelm Shiro's mind. But Shiro was learning, his nascent karma sense guiding him. He could feel the demon's intent, the subtle shifts in its energy as it prepared to attack.

He weaved a thread of Kegou between them, a shimmering tether of light. As the demon lunged, he yanked the thread, throwing it off balance. The demon crashed into the wall of the chamber, cracking the stone. This was no longer a battle of fear, but a clash of wills, a desperate struggle for survival. Shiro was fighting not just the demon, but the lingering shadows within himself.

Chapter 30: Trial By Fire Part 3

The demon was weakening, its illusions fading, its movements becoming sluggish. But it was not defeated. With a desperate cry, it unleashed a final wave of psychic energy, a concentrated blast aimed directly at Shiro's mind. Shiro threw up his arms, channeling all his Kegou into a defensive barrier. The impact was like a physical blow, and he felt his consciousness waver. Memories, emotions, and pain threatened to overwhelm him.

But then, he remembered the God of Death's words: "Karma is the echo of every action." He focused on his own actions, his determination to survive, his refusal to succumb to despair. And within the chaos of his mind, he found clarity. He pushed back against the psychic assault, his Kegou burning away the illusions, solidifying into a shield of pure karmic will.

The demon's attack faltered, its energy dissipating against Shiro's unwavering resolve. With a final surge of power, Shiro unleashed a devastating Burn Weave, a torrent of golden fire that engulfed the demon. The demon screamed, its form dissolving into ash and shadow. The chamber fell silent. Shiro stood panting, his body trembling, but he had won.

Chapter 30: Trial By Fire Part 4

Shiro stood amidst the dissipating echoes of the battle, his body screaming in protest. Every breath was a ragged gasp, every movement a symphony of pain. Wounds criss crossed his body, some still bleeding, others already sealing with golden light. He was battered, exhausted, but alive.

The God of Death's voice resonated in his mind, laced with a hint of… approval? "Impressive, Threadbearer. For a first taste of true power, you showed remarkable tenacity."

Shiro coughed, blood trickling down his chin. "Taste… tasted like dying," he rasped.

"A common side effect," the voice chuckled. "Karma is a potent force, Shiro. To wield it is to dance on the edge of oblivion. And you, in your… enthusiasm, have plunged headfirst into the abyss. There will be a backlash. A heavy one."

Shiro ignored the warning, his gaze fixed on the dissipating remains of the demon. A faint, dark miasma still clung to the air, twisting his stomach. He limped towards the spot where the demon had fallen, his footsteps heavy and uneven.

"A key," the God of Death's voice rumbled, the amusement gone, replaced by an undercurrent of urgency. "Amidst the ashes, you will find a key. Take it, and proceed through the black door that will soon manifest."

Shiro reached the spot, his hand brushing against the remnants of the demon. A wave of dark energy washed over him, and he hissed in pain. It felt like his very soul was being scorched. But amidst the ash, his fingers closed around something cold and metallic – a key.

As he clutched the key, a section of the chamber wall shimmered and dissolved, revealing a doorway. It was not made of stone or metal, but of pure darkness, a void that seemed to suck in the light.

With his last reserves of strength, Shiro stumbled towards the door. He stepped through, and the darkness enveloped him. He found himself in a narrow corridor, the walls slick with moisture, the air thick with the stench of decay.

The backlash hit him then.

Nausea twisted his gut, his vision blurred, and his body burned from the inside out. He coughed, and blood splattered on the floor – dark, viscous, and hot. His organs felt like they were shutting down, his muscles spasmed uncontrollably, and he could feel the threads of his own existence straining to their breaking point.

The God of Death's voice echoed in his mind, distant and fading. "The overuse of karmic power… especially for one so new to its embrace… carries a heavy toll. Your chances of survival are… fifty-fifty."

Shiro pressed on, driven by a stubborn refusal to yield. He had to keep moving, and had to reach the end. But the darkness pressed in, the pain intensified, and his strength ebbed away with every step.

Finally, he saw it. A ledge. The end of the corridor. And beyond it… nothing. Just a black abyss, a fall that looked like it would never end.

He reached the ledge, his body trembling violently. He gripped the edge, his knuckles white, and stared into the darkness. The backlash reached its crescendo, and his consciousness flickered.

Then, everything went black.

His grip loosened, his body went limp, and he fell. He plummeted into the darkness, the wind rushing past him, the silence deafening.

He fell for an eternity.

Just when it seemed like the darkness would consume him, a pinpoint of white light appeared below. It grew larger, brighter, until it filled his vision.

And then… Everything was white.