Marina stepped through the doorway.

The light bent around her, and in the next instant she stood in a vast, empty hall made of mirrored black water. Every surface reflected her image a thousandfold, each reflection twisting, stretching, warping.

At the far end, a figure waited.

The Phantom of the Seduction Empress.

Tall, graceful, draped in flowing garments of violet shadow. Her eyes glimmered like molten silver, and her presence pressed down on Marina like a tidal wave. The air itself felt heavy—thick with the pull of temptation and dominance.

Peak Void Rank.

This was no brute or swarm. This was a predator at the very top of the food chain.

The Empress smiled. "A siren who abandoned her song. How curious. Shall we see if your body remembers the dance of power?"

She moved first.

No warning, no flourish—just an explosion of speed. One moment she was far away, the next her hand was gripping Marina's throat, lifting her off the ground. Energy surged through the contact, trying to choke, paralyze, and bend her will in the same instant.

Marina's black mist roared to life, erupting from her skin in jagged bursts. She forced her feet to plant against the Empress's chest, kicked hard, and broke free—spinning midair and slamming a mist-forged blade toward the phantom's neck.

The Empress tilted her head lazily, letting the blade pass an inch from her skin, then snapped her fingers.

The ground shattered beneath Marina. Black water surged upward like living spears, forcing her to leap back again and again.

She attacked—sharp, relentless, her black mist forming claws, spears, and shields as needed. The Empress blocked each strike with effortless grace, countering with precision hits meant to cripple joints, shatter bones, or rip away the will to fight.

Minutes felt like hours.

Marina's ribs cracked under a knee strike. Blood spilled from her lips. But she didn't stop.

She feinted low, condensed all her mist into one arm, and drove it like a spear straight through the Empress's chest—only for the phantom to dissolve into a thousand shards of water and reform behind her, smiling still.

This wasn't just a test of strength.

It was survival against something designed to break her in every possible way.

Marina tightened her fists. She had no illusions this time, no distractions.

Just the fight.

And she would not lose.

The Empress's smile deepened as water rippled out from her feet in perfect concentric rings.

"I was born with an innate gift," she said, her voice carrying in the mirrored hall. "Charm, yes—but more. The ability to command the deep. To summon and mold water at my desire."

The floor beneath them churned. The black water rose in spiraling pillars, twisting into serpents with eyes of silver light. "I did not rise because I could beguile," she continued, "but because I could drown empires."

The serpents struck.

Marina dove aside, black mist forming jagged shields around her arms. One serpent smashed through the barrier, sending shards of condensed mist scattering. Another coiled around her waist, pulling tight like iron chains. She roared, forcing her mist to expand in a violent burst, shredding the coil, then launching herself forward at the Empress.

The phantom barely moved—she waved her hand, and the mirrored ceiling above cracked open. A waterfall crashed down between them, thick as a wall, blurring sight. Marina pushed through it, black mist spiraling into a drill at her forearm.

The Empress met her with a spear of solid water, the two forces colliding with a shockwave that rattled the mirrored hall.

They broke apart, both sliding back.

Marina lunged again, swinging high, low, then spinning for a backhand slash. The Empress blocked each with minimal movement, her own strikes flowing like tides—each hit seeking to sap Marina's stamina, to push her back inch by inch.

Then the ground itself betrayed her.

A tidal surge erupted from beneath Marina's feet, launching her into the air. Mid-flight, the Empress gestured sharply, and the water around Marina hardened into a sphere—closing in, compressing, drowning her in seconds.

Marina clenched her jaw, pulling every last shred of her black mist inward until it became a burning core in her chest. Then—detonation. The sphere burst into a rainstorm of black and silver droplets, and Marina landed hard, coughing blood but still on her feet.

The Empress's expression sharpened. "Better than I thought."

They clashed again—no feints, no words now.

Mist blades against water whips.

Spikes against waves.

Force against force.

Each collision left new cracks in the mirrored world around them. The floor became a chaos of puddles and broken glassy surfaces. The walls bent inward, distorting their forms.

Marina's body screamed with each movement, but her strikes grew wilder, heavier. She ducked under a spear thrust, raked her claws across the Empress's side, and twisted behind her for a knee to the back. The Empress stumbled for the first time, and Marina pressed harder—slashes, stabs, bursts of black mist meant to overwhelm.

But the phantom's counter was merciless.

A single sweep of her hand summoned a wave tall as the ceiling. It crashed over Marina, slamming her into the far wall hard enough to crack it. Water pinned her down like a living weight, the Empress walking slowly toward her, spear in hand.

Marina spat blood, forced her black mist to spread through the water, staining it dark. Then she made it explode upward, forming jagged spikes that shot toward the Empress.

The phantom dissolved into water again—only this time, Marina was ready. She condensed her mist into a fine powder in the air, igniting it in a sudden flash. The heat forced the water form to steam, revealing the Empress's core for a split second.

Marina struck.

Her claw ripped through the phantom's chest, black mist flooding into the hollow form. For a heartbeat, the Seduction Empress froze—silver eyes narrowing.

But instead of collapsing, the phantom's body rippled like water. Her hands snapped up, gripping Marina's wrist. "Not yet," she whispered.

The entire mirrored hall shuddered as a vortex of water exploded around them, spinning high into the ceiling like a reversed whirlpool. Marina was dragged upward, slammed into the vortex wall, and hurled back down into the fractured floor. The impact cracked the mirror tiles beneath her knees.

The Empress descended slowly, feet touching the surface as if it were still calm water. Her spear dissolved into droplets that swirled around her like a halo.

Marina forced herself up, black mist condensing around her fists. She rushed forward, unleashing a barrage of strikes—slashes, bursts of mist, and feints—but each was deflected with effortless grace. The Empress's movements were neither rushed nor slow; they were inevitable, like the tide returning to shore.

A whip of water lashed out, slicing across Marina's arm. She gritted her teeth, countered with a mist spike that grazed the Empress's cheek, leaving a faint black trail.

The Empress's lips curved faintly. "Better."

Then she surged forward, palm striking Marina's chest. The blow was deceptively light, but a crushing wave of water burst from it, swallowing Marina whole. She was dragged under in the weightless darkness, her lungs burning, her black mist swirling aimlessly around her.

For a moment, she thought it was over.

But then—hands. Soft, cold, pulling her up. The darkness split into silver light as Marina found herself standing again, gasping, dripping, her legs trembling.

The Empress stood close—too close. One hand rested on Marina's cheek, the other at the small of her back. Her eyes shone with something unreadable.

"I never sought your defeat," she murmured, voice like velvet under steel. "Only to see if you could survive me. If you could endure… and still stand."

Before Marina could answer, the Empress leaned in and kissed her—slow, deliberate, the water around them pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. It wasn't a seduction in the ordinary sense; it was a seal, a mark, an acknowledgment.

When she pulled back, her voice was softer. "The world you walk in now will not be kind. I needed to know if you would break… or bend."

Her form began to dissolve into countless droplets, each shimmering as they drifted upward and vanished into the mirrored sky.

"Survive," she whispered one last time.

The hall fell silent. Marina was left kneeling, drenched and breathing hard, her black mist barely clinging to her like tattered smoke.

The trial was over. And She began to teleport away once again.

Marina stirred, the remnants of exhaustion still clinging to her bones. As her vision cleared, she realized she had woken in an unfamiliar chamber—soft light spilling through sheer curtains, the air warm and heavy with perfume.

Her gaze drifted toward the grand bed in the center of the room. She froze. The scene before her made her face flush hot, and she instinctively averted her eyes.

From the bed, Valeris noticed and gave a sly smile.

"Come join us," she said, her voice carrying that velvet tone she always seemed to have.

Marina blinked, still caught off guard, and hesitated but eventually Asher nodded as she joined him in their night activities.