CHAPTER 344: THE PATH OF IRON BLOOD

The air above Eldoria was heavy with smoke and fear.

Once a symbol of human pride, innovation, and magical progress, the vast capital of the Human Territory now groaned under the weight of desperation. The skies were stained grey with the soot of distant fires, and the once pristine banners of the prestigious Pacesetters Academy now fluttered alongside tattered white flags of surrender—signals not of defeat, but of unity, calling all surviving humans to the last citadel standing.

In the grand outer gates of Eldoria, waves of refugees poured in relentlessly. Children clung to mothers, elders limped with broken canes, wounded men and women were dragged on makeshift sleds. Survivors from Arcanis, Valoria, and the scattered hamlets of the southern fringes scrambled for any space within the towering walls.

The Grey Family Base, now an ancient keep of marble-and-onyx spires that had stood for centuries as the seat of magical legacy, now served as a triage center and command post. Medical tents flooded the courtyards, spells of restoration and reinforcement were being cast nonstop by clerics, healers, and low-ranked mages who had once been mere students in the Academy.

Inside one of the Pacesetters round table room at the highest level of the inner academy tower, protected by arcane walls and mana-drained barriers, the war council convened.

A crystalline map hovered midair above the round table, showing red veins branching across Aetheris like cancer—the mana veins already devoured by Endless. The western section of the human territories was completely saturated in red, while a blinking light marked the last pulse of mana left in Eldoria.

Around the table stood the pillars of the Pacesetters Academy—Carmilia the Ice Queen, the Battle Mage Vlahoviç, and the Dark Saint Bowel. At the head of the table stood Drake Grey, donned in a reinforced military cloak bearing both the sigil of the Grey family and the elite ranking of an Eldoria Commander.

His face was hard. His eyes sunken from days without proper sleep.

"We’ve received confirmation..." Drake began, his voice low but sharp. "...Endless has left human territory. For now."

A low murmur passed around the table.

Carmilia, her silver-streaked hair pulled into a strict bun, leaned forward.

"What of the magic pulse we felt coming from the east? The one that cracked through three detection wards."

Vlahoviç, arms crossed and armored in combat leathers scorched by battle, added in a gruff tone:

"And what about the Dark Magi? He was sighted by scouts in the Orc territories, moving with the Chaos Twins. That’s not a coincidence. The Labyrinth’s involved. I can feel it."

Drake nodded. "It seems like everything we feared is happening."

He raised a hand. The floating map zoomed into the Deadroot Forest.

"The source of the Pandora has been triangulated—here. We believe Kaelen and Kelvin are still alive... and based on the energy signature, they’ve grown far more powerful than the last reports."

Bowel’s eyes sparkled with calculating precision behind his mana monocle.

"If the Pandora remains intact, then the Celestials still consider Kaelen and Kelvin as being capable enough to end Endless. Which buys us time. And possibly hope."

Carmilia interjected, "But not much though. What are your orders, Commander Grey?"

Drake took a breath.

"We consolidate all remaining mage corps here in Eldoria. No more scattering. No more evacuations. This... is humanity’s last stand. We hold here—until Kaelen completes whatever trial he’s undergoing."

A silence fell across the room.

Then Vlahoviç gave a slow nod. "And if Endless comes back?"

Drake stared at the red lines flickering across the map.

"Then we unleash everything. Every relic, every ancient scroll locked away by the Council, every forbidden spell the Academy has outlawed for centuries. Because if Eldoria falls... there will be nothing left to save."

"But I doubt doing so will do anything to Endless. Don’t forget Valoria which has combat strength and Arcanis that are quite more capable in magic than us hav both fallen" Vlahoviç suddenly said with a grim look on his face.

As soon as the others heard him, they all also feel silent grimly. But after a while, Drake struggled to reply.

"Well, what other choice do we have? In a way, we are humanity’s last stronghold right?"

---

After the meeting, Outside the Academy Walls...

From the inner city watchtowers, Drake Grey was still clad in his commander battle mage cloak as he stood atop a bastion wall, watching as survivors poured in.

He clenched his fists at the sight of a little girl with a bloodied teddy bear, dragging it along the cobbled street—alone.

His heart burned.

"Kaelen... Kelvin... Morris" he muttered, "You better survive whatever hell you’re in. Because we’ll need you here. Soon."

As a bell tolled across the city—the signal of another wave of refugees arriving—Drake took a deep breath and descended the stairs.

The human territory hadn’t died yet.

But it was hanging by a single, fraying thread.

Meanwhile....

The hollow was quiet, save for the distant rustle of unseen leaves and the faint hum of ambient Qi lingering in the air. Morning mist clung to the jagged rock walls, and the statues of the Seven Juggernauts stood like ancient judges, cloaked in still silence. Today, one statue shimmered ominously—the one carved of blackstone, plated in red markings that shimmered like blood under moonlight.

It was the statue of Iron Blood, the path of Ruthless Endurance.

Standing before the Circle of Resonance, Naena’s voice rang out solemnly:

"This path is unlike the others. It will test the marrow of your bones and the fibers of your will. There is no reliance on mana or Qi. Only grit. Only pain. Only the refusal to fall."

Kaelen exchanged a silent nod with Kelvin, and then with Morris.

"We go together," Morris muttered under his breath, tightening the cloth around his wrists. "And we make it out together."

Without another word, the three stepped into the Circle of Resonance.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the world shattered.

The air vanished.

All light was extinguished.

Then it came.

Agony.

They were slammed to the ground—barefoot, stripped of weapons, and enclosed in a pitch-dark world of screaming wind and suffocating heat. The floor was made of jagged obsidian, tearing at their skin as they tried to crawl forward, but there was no orientation—no sense of direction. Just endless resistance.

And for the first time in each of the trials Kaelen and Kelvin has gone through so far, a low, grinding voice whispered around them.

"Only through blood shall you pass. Only through torment will you rise. This is the crucible of the body and mind."

Each of them was pulled into a unique version of the trial, though their bodies remained close in this unseen space.

Kaelen found himself shackled in chains forged from pieces of his shattered Blade of Eternity. They cut into his flesh with every move. He stood in a barren battlefield surrounded by the ghosts of everyone he’d failed—his parents, his mentor, the Nullcarvers slain by Endless.

Each ghost hurled scorn and blame. Each word was a dagger.

"You couldn’t save us." "You were weak." "You are cursed."

He tried to cover his ears—but the chains tightened. He tried to scream—but no voice came. His knees buckled, yet he refused to fall.

He looked up and whispered through clenched teeth:

"I... will... endure."

Kelvin stood alone in a wasteland—his Orb of Chaos floating in the sky like a mocking sun. Every step he took dragged heavy weights on his limbs. He saw visions of his mother’s death, his sister’s abduction, and the cold sneer of his father as he spat the words "You should never have been born."

Kelvin was chained to anchors that kept pulling him deeper into the ground. Blood poured from his nose, ears, and fingertips as he tried to resist the sinking.

His voice was raw as he howled:

"I’ll die on my feet before I live on my knees!"

Morris stood before an endless stone wall. Each time he climbed it, it collapsed, crushing him beneath rubble. Again and again, he was forced to rise. His bones broke, muscles tore, but he kept rising.

He remembered his brother Drake, who despite ridiculing and intimidating him throughout his childhood, is now shouldering the burden of the Grey family and possibly the entire Eldoria on his shoulders. He remembered being called weak, even by himself. The fire, the ice, the earth, none of it helped him here.

Only raw determination.

As he gasped for air beneath another avalanche of stone, he roared:

"I’m not done yet! I’m never done!"

Back outside the trial.....

Naena stood in silence, her face grim as the Circle of Resonance began to seethe with heat. Even the the other Nullcarvers stepped back.

Guinevere whispered, "They’ve been in there too long..."

But Naena raised a hand. "This is the Iron Blood trial. Time doesn’t work the same here. They will return when they either fall... or ascend."

Then—a tremor.

The ground cracked in a perfect circle around the three trialists. And then, a burst of crimson light exploded from the Circle of Resonance.

One by one, the three emerged—bloodied, bruised, but standing.

Kaelen’s arms were torn, the sigil of his Eternal Guardian Armor faintly glowing beneath cracked skin.

Kelvin’s shirt was gone, his chest heaving, the Orb of Chaos faintly visible beneath his sternum, pulsing slowly.

But it was Morris that caught everyone’s attention.

His eyes now glowed with a faint red hue, and behind him hovered the faint projection of a colossal stone wall—a manifestation of unyielding will.

Naena’s lips curved into a rare expression.

"They passed."

Ethan stepped forward in shock. "All three of them?"

Naena nodded slowly.

"And the price they paid... was not light."