bookpub Chapter 75: Cynthia (2)
Chapter 75: Cynthia (2)
Chapter 75: Cynthia (2)The water in the chamber surged violently, converging at the center like a spinning cyclone, the current howling with unnatural force. From its core, a figure began to rise—shaped entirely of glistening, translucent water, humanoid in form yet utterly alien. Embedded in its forehead was a single radiant gem, glowing with the calm brilliance of the ocean’s surface kissed by sunlight.
"Welcome..." the entity intoned, its voice carrying across the vast crystalline chamber like a tide against stone—deep, resonant, and impossibly ancient.
"Descendant of the great Tyr Rein, I greet you."
As the gem’s glow intensified, a soft tremor echoed through the room. The towering pillars shuddered, not from fear—but reverence, as though recognizing the name.
Cynthia instinctively raised her wand, her eyes narrowing. "What is this?" she demanded, her tone calm but edged with wariness.
A strange warmth bloomed in Cynthia’s chest—like a name she’d never heard but somehow remembered. For just a second, the chamber faded, replaced by flashes of wind-torn cliffs, a hand outstretched in blinding light, and a voice that whispered her name with ancient sorrow.
"This is your calling, child of Tyr," the figure replied, lifting a flowing hand toward her. The water comprising its finger rippled gently, as if resisting the force of gravity itself.
"And this shall be your test."
Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet trembled with earth-splitting force—like an earthquake, but deeper, more deliberate. A thunderous crack reverberated through the chamber.
"Let us begin," the figure declared, before collapsing into a torrent, its body disintegrating back into the floor with a splash that echoed like a drumroll.
At once, the entire room responded.
Cracks snaked through the ground, walls, and ceiling—splitting open not with destruction, but transformation. The jagged rock faded away, peeled back like the layers of a dream unraveling. In its place unfolded a radiant, impossible oasis. Water shimmered in all directions, stretching into the horizon with no visible end. The very boundaries of the cave had vanished. What replaced it was something sacred—an ethereal realm of water and light.
The pedestal—once calmly resting within reach—slid backward as if on a hidden track. It glided effortlessly across the watery expanse, carrying with it the glowing earrings toward the farthest end of the luminous realm.
"Trial of Water, begin!" a disembodied voice echoed, and the world around her seemed to vibrate in harmony.
The surface beneath her feet defied nature—water, yet not. It shimmered like liquid but held her weight like stone. Walkable water, suspended between states.
But then a chill surged down her spine.
"Marcus?" Cynthia turned swiftly, panic beginning to claw at her. Her eyes
’Marcus... I studied your footwork long enough. I think I’ve finally got it. Even if it’s rough... it’ll do.’
She pivoted, wand aimed.
"Winter Blast!"
A beam of arctic blue erupted from her wand. The spell struck the charging warrior square in the torso, freezing it instantly mid-lunge. Ice spread outward in jagged spikes.
One down. Nine to go.
Another charged—this time a direct stab to her forehead, fast and savage.
But Cynthia moved like never before. The surge of mana within her pushed her reflexes past their limit. She bent backward at the last second, the weapon grazing the space where her head had been just a breath earlier.
Point-blank now, she raised her wand to its midsection.
"Steam Lance!" she roared.
A stream of pressurized hot water burst forth, tunneling directly into the watery enemy. It shuddered violently as steam exploded from its core—its body bubbling and shaking until, with a gurgling screech, it detonated into a cloud of scalding vapor.
Cynthia spun away just in time, her gliding steps carrying her effortlessly beyond the blast radius.
Every movement was clean. Every cast was precise.
These weren’t spells chosen at random—they were designed. Calculated. Crafted to dismantle water-based entities piece by piece.
And that’s exactly what the trial demanded of her.
She stood tall, heart racing, wand raised.
"I don’t care where this leads. I won’t break. Not now. Not after everything we’ve survived." she said, eyes blazing. "I’ll finish this trial—and I’ll find Marcus. No matter what."