"I'm curious about something." Said Edward, turning his head toward the Succubus, who, instead of wearing the usual overly-revealing clothes, was wearing the MoonStar robe that's worn by the Inner Disciples. The robe was half black and half silver, certainly not pretty but it's definitely unique. There was a huge symbol of a Moon and a Star on the back, and thin lines at the front, beginning from the abdomen and stopping at the right shoulder.

"..."

Fariya did not reply, she was quietly watching the unfolding fourth Trial with interest and fascination. Although she's much stronger than those participants, she felt the urge to undergo those wondrous trials and see how she fares.

"Succubus Fariya, hello! I'm talking to you."

"I heard you, criminal. I don't want to talk to you."

"Hey, that's unnecessarily rude. I'm no longer a criminal, errr, let's say I'm an innocent fugitive as well as a commander of a sect army. You may be strong but, technically, my status is higher than you, a slave."

"What'd you say?"

The woman glared at him but did not apply any pressure, not wanting to cause trouble and get punished by Lucy, whom she now fears.

Fariya is as strong as an Exalted God yet against Lucy, even without trying, she knew she could do nothing. The disparity in strength is just too big, rendering the succubus unable to do nothing but bow her head respectfully and act docile, which is against her instinctual nature.

"As I said, I'm curious. Will you indulge me with an honest answer?"

Fariya snorted and didn't reply, no longer paying any attention to the mortal.

"The way I see it, in that prison, you were living in luxury. There was no reason for you to leave, was there?"

"..."

"You're obviously strong. A demon succubus, capable of stealing the hearts of Gods and Devils alike. Was becoming a slave a better option? I simply can't fathom it."

He paused for a couple of breaths, scrutinising the woman and grunting.

"Mahap you were bored? But that's still enough to enslave yourself. Or was it love at first sight? I can't see that happening too. Whether it's on Earth or here, humans or demons, they all think the same."

"Shut up and let me watch." She retorted, keeping her voice down and vainly taking a step forward to get away from him.

Edward followed after her while sneaking a glance at the sitting Lucy.

…

The place was luminous, too luminous, in fact. Every corner, every wall, even every speck of dust, looked as if it was made of Gold. The place wasn't big, the ceiling was five to six meters above the youth's head… pipes and strange objects were lined and intersected under his feet, covering almost the entirety of the room's floor. The four walls were not that different either.

The bright light illuminating the room originated from strange-looking light bulbs, big and linked to countless wires, also golden in color.

This room, the intense smell of steam, the loud rumbling of the pumps coming from below his feet, the unpleasantly bright golden color of the place and everything in it, the rotating tree-sized sphere hanging in the air, were all but unfamiliar to the youth.

The young man stood there, silent and calm, gripping a single-handed sword and breathing soundlessly, his expression the epitome of serenity. This was none other than Ardor, one of the members of the MoonStar team, also teleported to a place inside of his consciousness, which as of yet unbeknownst to him.

Ardor, who's the only one of the MoonStar Team who didn't come from a sect, a clan, or an organization. He was a lone wandering cultivator, 38 of age, and a genius amongst genius, someone who reached the level of Sword Master at the age of 35.

In terms of appearance, Ardor was average, the only striking thing about him was his unusually short height. The youth - who would be considered a fully-grown adult in mortal realms and planets- was no taller than 170 centimeters. He had brown eyes, slightly long raven-black hair, thin eyebrows, a pointy nose, pale lips, and a cleanly-shaved beard and mustache.

The very moment Ardor appeared in this place, he knew it was an illusion. Apart from him, only one person stepped into this place, and that person, who was his teacher, had sacrificed his life to save him, unfortunately.

A long time passed, the young man was motionless, gripping his sword and looking ahead, seemingly absent-minded. The loud rumbling of the underground pumps came to an abrupt halt, instantly followed by the appearance of golden figures rising from below with the help of some sort of a circulated elevator.

The golden figures, three in total, immediately rushed at the youth, who counterattacked before they even reached him. He swung his arm, shooting a condensed burst of translucent white sword essence, which accurately hit one of the incoming attackers.

The assailants looked like automated machines, made from the same materials as this mysterious room. They wore heavy golden armors, wielded a long double-edged sword and a large shield.

The one hit by the sword essence raised its shield and successfully blocked the attack but he was pushed to the back, staggering a few steps. The other two, however, never stopped their charge, one swinging its sword at Ardor and the other waving his shield vertically, planning to bash the target's head.

Ardor took a step forward and spun, evading both the shield and the sword. His marvelous evasive movement allowed him to appear behind their back and unleash a lightning-fast thrust. This time, however, his attack was able to hit and destroy one of the automata.

Even after finishing one, Ardor had time to unleash another attack, slashing his sword diagonally, another burst of milky sword essence came forth and sliced the back of the golden heavy armor but it was not enough to incapacitate the machine.

The other machine, the one which was initially attacked, jumped in the air and banged its sword on its shield, sending an invisible blast wave.

Like a cannonball, Ardor was sent flying away, crashing into the pipe-filled wall and then falling on the ground. The youth puked some blood but nonetheless hastily stood up, still tightly gripping his weapon, which is something he should never - under no circumstances- lose or let go of.

He groaned in pain, having difficulty breathing and feeling that his hand and the sword it was holding became much heavier.

Ardor persisted, standing straight and brandishing his sword, clashing with one of the machines. He managed to overpower it by parrying and accurately striking a gap between its armor, momentarily immobilizing it. He kicked the ground, leaping into the air and slashing the air, shooting wide milky arcs at the defenseless machine, finishing off, at last.

With only one enemy remaining, Ardor kept his distance, his back against the wall as he circulated his Nether Energy.