EPIC: Path of Demons and Dragons-Chapter 238: Unorthodox

[Day 61]

Though the Abyssal Maw's resort had become increasingly popular with Ascendees and guests of the Dragon's Pavilion, Vahn eventually had all but a few observers vacate the floor in preparation for his attempting the Third Trial: Laevateinn's Embrace.

"It's quite the imposing set of doors..." remarked Ravel, standing a short distance behind Vahn as he placed his hand against the familiar-feeling, glowing-eyed dragon's visage adorning the stone doors barring entry to the Third Trial.

"Everyone is in position. Short of the volcano exploding, any flames that manage to escape the castle should be contained by our barrier," stated Rias, standing cross-armed between Ravel and Sona, her sapphire-blue eyes gleaming with expectation. Originally, Vahn was going to tackle the Trial alone, but after some persuasion, they had persuaded him to turn the attempt into a large-scale operation—one she had been appointed to oversee.

'Let's hope it doesn't come to that...' thought Vahn, his brows furrowed as he felt the Trial would be too simple if the Lævateinn and its counterparts were gathered in one place. To him, it made more sense for the volcano to erupt, scattering both the blades and the flames across the island like an apocalyptic rain...

"Alright, let's do this..." said Vahn, placing his second hand on the double doors before pushing them open with a fair amount of effort. Vahn was a little taken aback by the strength required to so much as budge them, but the reason for this became clear when a crack formed between the doors, allowing an intense wave of heat and pressure to surge out, forcing him to close his eyes and turn his head aside.

Seeing Vahn struggling, Rias attempted to step forward but was stopped by Sona stepping into her path and staring her down with her usual calm, composed expression. They had previously agreed that they would only step in if Vahn asked for their help or ordered them to take action, so she wouldn't allow Rias to rush to his side at the first setback.

"Haaa...!"

Exhibiting that he didn't need help, Vahn put considerably more strength into his hands and arms, blowing the stone doors open with enough force that their concealed hinges became exposed, nearly breaking free of their stone housings. At the same time, a veritable deluge of heat emptied into the antechamber where everyone was gathered, forcing Rias and Sona to shield their faces instinctively.

"These remind me of the Flames of Gehenna," remarked Ravel, sporting a slightly smug grin as, while she wasn't completely impervious to the heat flowing out the room beyond the doors, resembling a throne room filled to the brim with swords, spears, and other weapons stabbed into a polished, obsidian-black floor, her Phenex lineage allowed her to stare into the heat without turning away. As for the flames she was referring to, the spacious chamber was lined by a stone channel from which peculiar, rainbow-hued flames arose. Further in, stabbed into a large stone throne backed by the same draconic visage as the doors, a black-bladed claymore with a long handle, a winged crossguard, and a crimson dragon's visage emitted dark orange flames. It was from this that most of the heat emanated.

"Well, that's conspicuous..." remarked Rias, giving voice to everyone else's thoughts, including Vahn's. He felt an undeniable sense of familiarity with each weapon in the throne room, but the moment he fixed his gaze on the claymore, he got the distinct impression it was staring back at him—eager and hungry.

"Alright, let's all stay alert..." said Vahn, briefly glancing back over his left shoulder and smiling before staring ahead with a markedly more serious expression as he led the way into the throne room, its dimensions at least a hundred meters wide and two hundred deep with twelve support pillars rising from the stone floor to the ceiling fifty meters above.

"Oh, wow..." gasped Rias, her eyes widening as she gazed at the ceiling, slightly arched with a complex mural depicting a bare-chested figure with a pristine, muscular build adorned with flowing white robes and wielding a notably long sword of pure white flames in their left hand and an ornate, white, gold-trimmed hammer in their right. Their physique was masculine, but if you only looked at their face, flowing white hair, and delicate facial features, they could pass as a close relative of the androgynous Michael.

"Someone or something put considerable effort into this painting..." noted Sona, her violet eyes narrowing with intrigue as she scanned the manifold weapons forming a golden border around the mural. She doubted that the entity or entities that had prepared the Trials for Vahn would include such a detailed, masterfully painted relief as a decoration or distraction, so she carefully scanned every detail in search of hidden meaning.

Since it didn't appear that the flames swirling around the claymore would suddenly run rampant without some stimulus, Vahn joined the trio in gazing up at the massive mural. As Sona suggested, it was exceedingly well-made, causing him to feel as though he were drawn toward it, pulled in by its details and breadth. In particular, he found himself staring blankly at the face of the figure depicted, drawn to its eyes as if they were staring back at him...

"I have a hypothesis..." started Ravel, contending, "The description of the Third Trial overtly mentions Creation and Destruction being two sides of the same coin while simultaneously referencing the forging of blades. This figure in the mural wields both a sword and a type of hammer whose form is better suited to forging than battle. What if the true Laevateinn isn't one of the weapons here but one forged by the trial-taker?"

"That's certainly a possibility..." affirmed Sona, scanning the thousands of weapons littering the area. Some appeared worn and simple, while others were forged from extraordinarily rare materials, their elaborate forms and glistening blades giving the impression they were pulled straight from the Age of Heroes and Myths. However, compared to the claymore embedded in the throne, they may as well have been trinkets.

"It's also strange that the Trial's description warned of inextinguishable flames being unleashed, but things appear pretty calm so far..." remarked Vahn, his gaze settling on the black-bladed claymore. The rainbow-hued flames lining the chamber didn't appear to emit any heat, so it was heavily implied that the dark orange flames swirling around the menacing-looking blade were the reason for the warning.

"What do you want to do?" asked Rias, reasoning, "If I had to guess, the true Trial will begin once you've made a choice. If you select the correct weapon from the start, there's a chance the flames won't rampage at all."

"I'm not sure," responded Vahn. "But I can't imagine the Trial wants me to go around inspecting each blade. There has to be a way to confirm which of them is the true Laevateinn using the clues and information we've been provided."

Crossing her arms in a way that naturally emphasized her breasts, Ravel, cupping her chin with her right index finger and thumb, recalled, "The first line of the Trial mentioned that 'absolute power is such that it consumes or subsumes all else.' Perhaps the forging method of the true Laevateinn is wielding it to suppress or destroy the other weapons present, unifying their flames into one?"

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"Mmn...that would make sense..." agreed Rias. "But doesn't the second line mention that, to stand at the pinnacle, one must have the capacity to destroy and the self-restraint not to? Even if the other blades are used to forge or temper the true Laevateinn, such sacrifice feels a tad excessive."

"I believe the vagueness of the Trial's description contains meaning in itself..." contended Vahn, half-turning to face the three Devlish women as he explained, "It deliberately mentions the positive and negative aspects of flames as a force of Creation and Destruction, but the most important thing is the wielder's intention—how they choose to wield them."

"I see..." muttered Sona, narrowing her eyes slightly, her gaze lowered, focused on nothing in particular as she inferred, "If that's the case, there may not be a true Laevateinn. There is no correct answer, only the course you decide and the consequences of that decision..."

Nodding, Vahn appended, "If my power is absolute, my decision is moot because I can overwhelm whatever occurs. Inversely, if I'm too weak, all I can do is watch as the flames consume everything. Then, once I finally acquire the power to suppress them, new life can form in its wake..."

"That does appear to align with the Trial's description..." affirmed Rias, her gaze focusing on the black-bladed claymore as she concluded, "Then, the true test is taming, suppressing, or destroying the weapons here..."

"I would prefer the first option..." remarked Vahn, leading the way to the throne while scanning the many weapons flanking him. It was faint, but he could feel an emotion akin to anticipation exuding from each, so if it could be avoided, he didn't want to destroy any of them.

"Then what's the plan...?" asked Rias, proposing, "We could try setting up individual barriers around each weapon. It would take some time, but it's certainly doable."

Hearing Rias's suggestion, Vahn ceased walking forward and focused his gaze on a tsuba-less katana with a white, braided handle and a tarnished, silvery-grey pommel with the embossed motif of a wolf. The blade was long, thin, and slightly curved, appearing plain at a glance but exuding an elegance that inspired silent observation.

'These weapons deserve wielders...' thought Vahn, admiring the form of several additional weapons. Through his domain, Sis had confirmed there were 2,360 unique weapons, far too many to wield himself. However, if he were to distribute them or allow access to the chamber, they represented an equivalent number of stories waiting to be written...

"I like that idea..." affirmed Vahn, nodding approvingly before sharing his introspections. All three girls agreed that it would be a waste to allow the weapons to be destroyed, so for the remainder of the afternoon, most of the executive members of the Dragon's Pavilion coordinated to seal each weapon while enduring the heat emanating from the ominous-looking but docile black and crimson claymore...

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"Alright, here goes..." muttered Vahn, approaching the giant-sized throne and the comparably small throne-embedded claymore. There was a real possibility that disturbing it would sabotage everyone's efforts, but none of the nineteen women present to observe the sword's extraction tried to stop him. Rather, their expectant gazes were like invisible hands upon his back, pushing him forward.

"I don't know if you can hear or understand my words..." muttered Vahn, extending his right hand through a gap in the dark orange flames, gently squeezing the claymore's surprisingly cool handle as he added, "But if my opinion matters, I do not wish to see you rampage or destroy. Instead, let us forge a path toward the future...together..."

[After witnessing the effort you've put into preserving and protecting the other weapons here, I would need to be pretty malicious to proceed with the original Trial...] answered a distinctly tomboyish voice, causing Vahn's brows to rise as it added [But I also have my pride as a weapon forged by the greatest blacksmith. If I allowed you to wield me without first proving yourself, people would think I'm easy.]

With a telepathic link having formed between him and the sword, Vahn countered [Not if I'm the only one who wields you. After all, the Corridor is an expression of my power, and these Trials are catered specifically to me. This could be a classic situation similar to King Arthur and the Sword in the Stone—with you being the Blade of Promise and me being the Hero who wields you...]

[That's a pretty romantic proposition...] responded the voice, followed by a period of presumed deliberation before it conceded [Alright, then. But at your current level, you wouldn't be able to wield even a fraction of my true power. And to complicate matters, you don't possess even a hint of sword aura or intent...]

[That's because my primary weapon is a spear...] revealed Vahn, causing the flames swirling around the claymore to flare. Fortunately, none came into contact with him. Instead, the claymore's handle began to elongate, stopping at around 220cm as its glossy black blade and crimson, dragon-winged crossguard became more streamlined...

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