God’s Tree

Chapter 81 The Final Trial—Shadows Unleashed



Darkness swallowed them whole.

Argolaith and Kaelred stood back-to-back, the world around them devoid of light.

There was no sound—no wind, no distant whispers—only the oppressive silence of an unseen force looming over them.

Kaelred exhaled slowly. "Okay… This is different."

Argolaith tightened his grip on his sword. "Stay focused."

A whisper brushed past Argolaith's ear.

"Are you ready?"

Argolaith swung his sword toward the voice—but hit nothing.

Then—a figure emerged from the darkness.

It was Malakar.

Except—his form flickered.

His robes billowed unnaturally, his glowing eyes pulsing with chaotic energy.

Kaelred stiffened. "Malakar?"

Malakar's voice echoed from every direction.

"Not quite."

Then—the shadow attacked.

The shadowy Malakar moved impossibly fast.

One second, he was in front of Argolaith—the next, he was behind Kaelred.

Kaelred barely had time to react before dark claws slashed toward his throat.

CLANG!

Argolaith's sword blocked the strike, sparks flying.

The impact sent him skidding backward, boots digging into the unseen ground.

Kaelred rolled away, breathing heavily. "Okay, that's definitely not Malakar."

The shadowy figure tilted its head.

Then—it split into two.

One shadow faced Argolaith.

The other turned toward Kaelred.

Kaelred groaned. "Oh, that's not fair."

Argolaith smirked. "Nothing ever is."

Then—the shadows attacked again.

Argolaith dodged the first strike, his sword clashing against the shifting shadow.

The moment he made contact, the figure dissolved—only to reform behind him.

Damn.

He barely turned in time to parry the next attack.

Meanwhile, Kaelred was struggling to keep up.

The shadowy version of Malakar was relentless, its attacks erratic and unpredictable.

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Kaelred swore as he narrowly ducked under a swipe that could've taken his head off.

"How do we kill something that doesn't stay solid?!"

Argolaith gritted his teeth. "We adapt."

He lunged forward, not at the shadow—but at its own movement.

Instead of aiming for its form, he predicted where it would move next.

His sword lashed out—

And struck true.

The shadow hissed, recoiling.

Kaelred's eyes widened. "That worked?"

Argolaith smirked. "Everything has a pattern."

Kaelred exhaled. "Fine. Let's finish this."

Now—they fought with intent.

Instead of swinging wildly, they studied their enemy.

Every time the shadow flickered, they reacted.

Every time it shifted, they struck first.

It became a battle of prediction.

A test of instincts.

And then—the final blow.

Kaelred and Argolaith moved together, forcing the last shadow into a corner.

Argolaith swung his blade downward—while Kaelred threw a dagger straight at its core.

The shadow let out a final, ghostly hiss—before vanishing into the darkness.

And suddenly—the world returned to normal.

Malakar stood where the shadow had been, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

Kaelred collapsed onto the ground. "No. No more tests. I'm done."

Argolaith wiped sweat from his brow, grinning. "That was fun."

Kaelred glared at him. "You're insane."

Malakar chuckled. "You both passed."

Kaelred scoffed. "Barely."

Malakar's smirk faded slightly. "You were never supposed to win."

Argolaith frowned. "What do you mean?"

Malakar's glowing eyes flickered.

"The shadow was never an opponent—it was a reflection."

Kaelred stiffened. "…A reflection of what?"

Malakar turned away. "What lies ahead."

Silence.

Argolaith exchanged a glance with Kaelred.

Then, Malakar faced them once more.

"Your training is complete."

Argolaith's smirk returned. "Then let's go cause some trouble."

Kaelred groaned. "Why do I feel like I'm going to regret this?"

Malakar's lips curled into a smirk. "Because you probably will."

And with that—their training was over.

The real war was about to begin.

The training ground was eerily silent. The wind had settled, and the scent of burnt magic still lingered in the air from their final battle.

Kaelred stretched his sore muscles, groaning. "Alright. So we survived. What now?"

Argolaith looked at Malakar with a curious expression. "I have a question."

Malakar raised an eyebrow. "Only one? That's surprising."

Argolaith ignored the sarcasm. "How come no one ever questions you being a lich?"

Kaelred's expression shifted to realization. "Oh. Yeah… now that you mention it, how have we not been questioned about traveling with an undead necromancer?"

Malakar's smirk grew. "Because, my dear students, people believe what their minds allow them to see."

Kaelred squinted. "That's… not an answer."

Malakar chuckled, his glowing eyes flickering in amusement. "It's quite simple. I use illusion magic constantly. Every person we've passed, every city I've walked into, every wary traveler we've encountered—they see me as an ordinary man."

Argolaith frowned. "You mean they don't see your rotting corpse?"

Malakar sighed dramatically. "Argolaith, I have very good hygiene."

Kaelred groaned. "That's not the point."

Malakar waved a hand. "Fine, fine. No, they don't see my true form. My illusions are subtle. Not some flashy transformation, but a simple mental adjustment—humans have a way of ignoring what they can't explain. So, unless I directly use necromancy, most assume I'm just another sorcerer."

Argolaith crossed his arms. "That's… actually terrifying."

Malakar grinned. "I know."

Kaelred sighed, rubbing his temples. "So you've just been walking around, hiding in plain sight this entire time?"

Malakar shrugged. "It's much easier than burning down every village that screams at me, don't you think?"

Kaelred opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. "…Fair point."

Argolaith smirked. "So you're telling me if I ever want to disappear, all I need is a really strong illusion spell?"

Malakar nodded. "That, or complete control over people's perceptions. Which, I must admit, is far more satisfying."

Kaelred shivered. "I swear, you get creepier by the day."

Malakar grinned. "And yet, here you are—traveling with me."

Kaelred sighed. "Unfortunately."

Argolaith chuckled. "Alright, enough of that. We need to head toward the city. We still have no idea where we are in Morgoth, and I'd rather figure that out before we run into another monster that can kill us in one hit."

Malakar nodded. "Yes, about that…"

Argolaith raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Malakar's grin widened. "We might not have a choice."

Then—a distant roar shattered the silence.

They moved swiftly, heading north toward the city.

The landscape was shifting, the once barren wastelands giving way to hardened plains of cracked earth and towering stone formations.

Argolaith and Kaelred kept their weapons within reach, their senses heightened.

Kaelred sighed. "I don't like this."

Argolaith smirked. "You don't like anything."

Kaelred shot him a glare. "No, I mean I really don't like this. There's something off about this place."

Malakar, who had been eerily silent, finally spoke. "That's because something is watching us."

Argolaith's fingers tightened around his sword hilt. "Where?"

Malakar gestured subtly toward the rock formations.

At first glance, there was nothing.

Then—Argolaith saw it.

A figure moved between the rocks, its presence barely noticeable.

Kaelred clenched his jaw. "That's not a beast."

Malakar smirked. "No, it's something far more dangerous."

A second figure emerged from the shadows.

Then a third.

Then a fourth.

Within moments, a dozen figures surrounded them from the rocky terrain.

Their dark, tattered cloaks fluttered in the wind, and their faces were obscured by masks made of polished silver.

Argolaith exhaled. "Well… I guess we found trouble."

Kaelred groaned. "We always do."

The masked figures did not speak.

But they moved as one, their steps eerily synchronized.

Argolaith readied his sword. "Any idea what they want?"

Malakar smirked. "The same thing I do—power."

Kaelred swore. "Great. More magic-obsessed maniacs."

One of the figures finally stepped forward.

Their voice was distorted, layered—like multiple voices speaking at once.

"We have no quarrel with you."

Argolaith narrowed his eyes. "Then why are you surrounding us?"

The figure tilted their head. "Because you are in the way."

Kaelred's grip on his blade tightened. "In the way of what?"

The figure did not answer.

Instead, they raised their hand.

A symbol burned into the air, glowing with golden fire.

Malakar's eyes narrowed.

Then—the world shifted.

The air rippled.

The ground fractured beneath their feet.

And then—the Veiled Order attacked.

Argolaith barely blocked the first strike, his sword clashing against an unseen force.

Kaelred was thrown backward by a wave of energy, skidding across the dirt.

Malakar vanished into the shadows, his presence flickering in and out of sight.

The battle had begun.

Argolaith gritted his teeth.

"Kaelred, get up! We're fighting magic users!"

Kaelred groaned, rolling onto his feet. "I know, I know!"

The Veiled Order moved as one, their coordinated strikes seamless—as if they were part of a single entity.

Argolaith lunged forward, his blade cutting through the air.

He clashed with one of the masked warriors, the force of the impact shaking his arms.

Kaelred ducked under a spell blast, retaliating with a swift strike that barely grazed his opponent's armor.

Malakar, however—was smiling.

"Well, this should be fun."

Then—he unleashed his magic.

Dark tendrils surged from the ground, ensnaring several of the masked warriors.

But the Veiled Order did not panic.

Instead, they adapted.

A second wave of golden fire erupted from the ground, breaking Malakar's shadows apart.

Kaelred's eyes widened. "They countered him?!"

Malakar's smirk didn't waver. "Of course they did. This wouldn't be fun if they were weak."

Argolaith exhaled sharply. "Then let's stop holding back."

He activated a rune from his ring.

A shockwave burst outward, increasing the gravity around their enemies.

Several of the Veiled warriors staggered, caught off guard by the sudden shift.

Kaelred took the opening—his sword flashing as he cut through their defenses.

The battle intensified.

But deep in the shadows, another presence watched.

A figure, cloaked in deep crimson, observing from a distance.

They did not interfere.

Not yet.

Because this was only the beginning.

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