The Last Bargain

Chapter X: The Trial Of The Gods

The air grew colder, and the mist around Zento and Shin thickened like a shroud, obscuring their vision. The shadowy forms of the gods loomed large, their shapes shifting and flickering like the flames of a great fire. Zento's heart pounded in his chest, his senses on high alert. He had no idea what to expect, but he knew that whatever came next would test them beyond anything they had ever faced.

Shin stood at his side, his eyes scanning the swirling mists for any sign of movement. "Do you feel that?" he whispered.

Zento nodded. There was a pressure in the air, a weight that bore down on them, as if the very sky had grown heavy with the presence of the gods. He tightened his grip on his sword, feeling the familiar tension in his muscles, the readiness that came with years of training.

Suddenly, the mist parted, revealing a great figure that towered over them. It was vaguely humanoid, but its features were indistinct, as if carved from shadow. Its eyes were like twin stars, burning with an intensity that sent a shiver down Zento's spine. The figure raised a hand, and the very air seemed to vibrate with power.

"You have come seeking answers," the figure intoned, its voice deep and resonant, echoing through the vast emptiness. "You have defied our warnings, crossed our boundaries. For this, you must be judged."

Zento swallowed, his throat dry. "We're here to understand why our people are disappearing," he said, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at his insides. "We want to know why the gods have turned against us."

The figure seemed to grow larger, its eyes burning brighter. "Humans have grown arrogant," it replied. "You have abused the gifts given to you. You have forgotten your place in the order of things. The gods have decided to reclaim what is ours, to restore balance."

Shin stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "Balance? Is that what you call erasing entire clans? Destroying lives without explanation? How is that balance?"

The figure's eyes flicked toward Shin, and for a moment, the air seemed to hum with power. "You question the will of the gods?" it asked, its voice a low rumble. "You, a mere mortal?"

Shin held his ground, his expression defiant. "Yes," he said. "I question your will. I question your right to judge us without reason."

The figure was silent for a moment, and then it laughed—a sound like a crack of thunder. "Very well," it said. "If you wish to challenge our judgment, you must prove your worth. You must face the Trial of the Gods."

Zento felt his stomach tighten. He had heard of the Trial of the Gods in legends, stories told to children to warn them against defying the divine. No one knew exactly what the trial entailed, but it was said to test every aspect of a person's being—their strength, their will, their very soul.

"We accept," Zento said, his voice strong. "We will prove ourselves."

The figure nodded. "So be it," it said. "The trial begins now."

With a wave of its hand, the figure vanished, and the mist around them began to swirl violently, forming into shapes—figures that grew more solid with each passing second. Zento's breath caught in his throat as he saw them take form. They were people, dressed in the armor and robes of ancient warriors, their faces set in grim determination.

"They're... illusions?" Shin whispered, his eyes wide.

"No," Zento replied, his voice tense. "They feel real."

The figures moved toward them, weapons drawn—swords, spears, and bows. Their expressions were blank, their eyes empty, but there was a purpose in their steps, a deadly intent. Zento counted a dozen of them, each one looking ready to fight.