The wall moved aside slowly, revealing an entrance. The newly exposed corridor was wide and tall, glowing with the same luminescent light as the rest of the chasm. Intricate symbols were etched into the walls, seeming to dance and pulse with the glow.
The voice echoed again, now coming from deep within the newly revealed passage. "Enter, young human, and claim your inheritance. May it serve you well in the decades to come."
Liam swallowed, nerves buzzing with anticipation and excitement. He glanced back at the entrance to the chasm, before stepping into the enclosed space.
Just what sort of an inheritance was this? What was there inside? Did he need to pass some tests? Somehow prove himself to get the benefit? If so, what should he do about his current injured state?
Several thoughts crossed his mind as he wondered what lay ahead.
The corridor was cooler than the chasm, the blood crystals lining the walls, providing a soft, comforting warmth. The further he walked, the more intense the warmth became. Suddenly, it flared, bathing him in a harsh, crimson light.
Before Liam could react, he became entranced in this strange atmosphere.
The symbols on the walls pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and he could feel a strange connection forming between him and the ancient runes.
It felt as though they were communicating with him, touching his soul, bestowing upon him knowledge and wisdom.
Liam closed his eyes and surrendered to the feeling, allowing the ancient power to seep into his very being. He could feel his consciousness drifting away from his body.
He was in a new world. He was no longer plagued by any burdens or memories. He felt free. He felt as if there was nothing in this world that could stand against him.
Images flashed before his eyes: ancient battles, powerful spells, wise elven sages, and a proud, noble figure who stood above them all, his aura radiating with strength and wisdom.
Liam couldn't make sense of any of it. He was seeing everything but at the same time, nothing was registering in his mind.
All of a sudden, an elf appeared.
The elf was tall, lofty, and ethereal, clothed in long robes that shimmered with an otherworldly light. His long silver hair flowed down his back and his eyes, a piercing blue, seemed to hold the wisdom of countless ages. An intricate silver circlet sat upon his brow, studded with a singular large gem that pulsed with the same light as the blood crystals lining the walls.
Then, the figure suddenly looked straight at Liam, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, you are my successor, huh? Interesting. I can see why the old me chose you. You are different. Determined. Strong-willed. You have an insatiable thirst for power."
The elf's voice and his stoic face disappeared the next instant, Liam once again standing in the midst of an endless battlefield that sprawled as far as the eye could see.
Wreckage and remnants of a war long past were scattered around him. The ground beneath his feet was drenched in the echo of spilled blood, and the once proud structures now lay in ruins.
Liam felt a chill run down his spine, the palpable killing intent in the area making him shiver. Terrifying auras emerged from the shadows and he could sense six powerful auras among these that stood above all.
Liam could vaguely feel that he was currently not in this place and time. Yet, the pressure he felt from these figures was terrifying. He could only barely withstand them, his consciousness threatening to peel away from this memory at any given moment.
Before he could comprehend what was happening, the six figures advanced, their forms blurring as they moved with speed that defied natural laws. Each one brandished a weapon that seemed to embody their respective domains.
Liam's brain was immediately ravaged by a splitting headache. He could tell that he was about to be kicked out of wherever this was.
He grunted and tried to hold on but to no avail. His vision was quickly blurring and the image was starting to fade, now being replaced by just darkness.
However, in that last moment, Liam managed to grasp something. He saw a sword slash!
The sword seemed to tear through reality itself, the chill it radiated freezing everything in its vicinity. It was not just cold; it was the embodiment of absolute zero, a temperature where even time and space seemed to come to a standstill.
The wielder of the sword was an imposing figure shrouded in frost and snow, a domain that defied the otherwise fiery and tumultuous surroundings of the battlefield.
Their movements were precise and economical, each step taken with the weight of centuries of wisdom and battle-hardened experience.
With the sword in hand, they moved like a winter storm, swift and relentless, freezing and shattering everything in their path. Their presence was like a towering iceberg in a turbulent sea of fire, unmoving and undeterred.
The final swing of the sword that Liam observed was executed with such finesse and power that it seemed to cleave the very air, sending out a wave of frost that spread across the battlefield, turning everything it touched into ice.
Just as he was about to be engulfed by this wave of icy energy, his consciousness started to recede, the throbbing pain in his head reaching its peak. But the image of the sword and its wielder, the frosty aura, and the chilling slash were deeply imprinted in his mind.
When he opened his eyes, Liam was back in the corridor, his hand somehow on the hilt of his own sword. The runes on the walls pulsed with a soft glow as if acknowledging his return.
His body was drenched in sweat, and his head throbbed from the remnants of the headache. But beneath the physical discomfort, Liam felt a strange sense of excitement.
He clearly remembered the frosty sword slash and the overwhelming aura of the wielder.
Still in that transfixed state, he slowly moved. He swung his own sword, trying to mimic the slash he had seen, his movements slow and clumsy in comparison.
But with each swing, he could feel a faint echo of the frosty aura he had observed, a chilling energy that seemed to flow from the blade.
Liam smiled through his exhaustion. When the elven elder had mentioned inheritance, he did not expect this. He had really gained a lot this time. It was as if he was a different person now. He couldn't exactly pinpoint it.
However, now was not the time to think about all this.
Liam's mind was still filled with the memory and the feeling of what he had just witnessed. It was only a millisecond of experience but it was deeply imprinted in his brain.
He quickly closed his eyes and focused on this image. He had a feeling that if he missed this chance at the moment, he would never get it back. He was on the cusp of something and he had to grasp it right now and right here.
A sense of tranquility washed over Liam as he focused his thoughts on the frosty sword slash. His heart rate steadied, his body relaxed, and his mind became a calm pool of water, unmarred by any ripples of distraction. He was entirely absorbed in the sensation, his body acting out the movements unconsciously.
There was an undeniable pull from the memory that he was immersed in. As if something were guiding his movements and shaping them to echo the frosty aura of the ancient figure.
Again and again, he swung his sword, each time feeling a bit more of the icy chill emanating from it. His breath condensed in the cool air, a tangible indication of the chilly energy his blade now harbored.
"Not bad, human. You did not disappoint me." The elven voice softly echoed, only barely audible. "For your kind, your mental strength is quite impressive. Now show me what you are capable of."
If Liam had opened his eyes right this instant, he would have seen a face similar to the one in the images right next to him.
The face was neither present nor absent, just a mere remnant left behind to manage the inheritance. It continued to absorb Liam as if admiring his capacity to adapt and learn.
Hours seemed to pass as Liam tirelessly practiced the slash. He was entirely absorbed in the motion and the sense of frosty energy. His body moved without conscious thought, acting out the sequence as if it had been doing so for years.
His movements became more precise, the angle and power of the slashes matching more closely to the memory in his mind. The frigid energy of his blade intensified, each slash leaving a visible trail of frosty air in its wake.
Suddenly, the elf appeared shocked as a pulse of energy surged from Liam's sword, flowing up his arm and spreading throughout his body.
"Impossible!"
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