Dallion kept on walking deeper and deeper, descending into the darkness to a point that even Lux’s flames weren’t enough to light up the area.

Shadows, Dallion thought. By all accounts, it was looking like he was going to have to face the unknown quite literally. There always was the option that this might be another battle against the Star, but that was doubtful—Dallion couldn’t feel the cold sensation of void around him.

When Dallion determined he was no longer progressing, he stopped walking. There no longer was any point. The trial had already begun and now it was only a matter for it to reveal itself to Dallion. Given everything had to go through so far, Dallion drew the harpsisword and prepared for combat.

Seconds passed without anything happening. Then, suddenly, the darkness expanded to the side, changing Dallion’s surroundings into a room. That much he had expected. However, it was the contents of the room that caught him completely off guard. There was no endless battlefield, no swarm of enemies, no opponent to face. Instead, Jiroh’s sister sat at a bar, a bored expression on her face. Seeing Dallion, she used her powers to move a bottle off the counter behind her and moved it onto the bar along with two small cups.

“You took your time,” the girl said, pouring an orange liquid in the small glass. “I still think you made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” Dallion asked as he split into a dozen instances. One of them went to the bar, facing the young fury.

“My sister. I think you two would have made a cute couple.” Diroh finished pouring the drink. The second glass remained empty, though. “Never thought that Eury would find anyone with her temper.”

Her temper? Dallion wondered. This definitely wasn’t the gorgon he knew. True, she was harsh when on a job, but otherwise she was extremely laid back, not to mention flirty.

“Still, what’s done is done.” The fury nodded at Dallion. “Aren’t you going to drink that?”

“Should I?” Dallion asked. He had instances, but only they lasted a short distance in the future—longer for him to be able to save himself from the effects of even fast acting poison.

“No, not really.” The fury grabbed the glass and turned it around, slamming the top onto the wooden counter. The moment she did, both glasses turned orange. “The trial is very simple,” she said, turning around the other glass. “All you have to do is guess which glass holds the drink.”

Dallion crossed his arms. As far as he could tell, there was no difference between the glasses. Both were of the same color, material, and size. There was no variation in terms of shape, damage, or even dirt. Even so, he knew perfectly well which one contained the drink in question. Even better, he could guess even if he didn’t.

“That one,” he said, placing his hand on the right glass. Meanwhile, a second instance of him placed his hand on the left, just to be on the safe side.

With one wrist action he lifted the glass, expecting the liquid to splash all over the counter. Interestingly enough, it didn’t. Instead, it remained floating in the air, like a thick puff of orange smoke.

“Using splitting already?” Diroh asked, not in the least impressed.

“You didn’t say that I couldn’t.”

“I didn’t think you would find something so easy to spot.” She grabbed the other glass and scooped the floating liquid. The moment she did, it regained its usual properties. “At least you understood the rules.”

“That was it?” Dallion asked in disbelief. There were trials that required a simple choice, but in those cases they had focused on complicated psychological questions. This was… Dallion didn’t even know what it was. It wasn’t even luck, that was for certain.

“That’s the start.” Two more glasses floated to the bar counter. The moment they came into contact with it, their color shifted to orange. “You have to do a few more rounds. This is just the obligatory build up.”

The glass in Dallion’s hand wiggled free, then turned around on the counter, as did the three others. After a momentary pause, the glasses started moving about, like in the popular gambling scams.

This is stupid, Dallion thought. He was still going to guess. With his abilities, there was no way he wouldn’t. There had to be a catch.

“Nope, no catch,” Diroh replied. “It’s a test of skill. If you have the skills, you have what it takes to move on.” The glasses stopped. “Choose.”

Four instances of Dallion picked a glass each. One of them was correct, and that was the one Dallion chose to become reality. As the liquid remained in the air, four more glasses floated to the counter.

Doubling, Dallion thought. That made things a bit more complicated. With his splitting ability he’d have no problem in the next round and the round after that, but at one point he wouldn’t be able to brute force his way to victory.

“Good,” the fury said as she scooped up the liquid again in an empty glass. “You get the idea.”

“A test of perception.” Dallion felt glad that he had improved his perception, although he wished he had upped up by another ten or so. “How many rounds are there?”

“As many as it takes,” Diroh replied. “It’s not like you have anything else to do. In here we’re just having a game. There’s no mage casting spells all over the place.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“Yes, it is. It’s a game against yourself, and possibly the Moons.”

Dallion frowned.

“You’re thinking it, and you’re right. In one way or another, it’s all a game to the Moons.”

That made Dallion think. If this was a Moon reference, maybe it had to do with the number of rounds? Based on those calculations, the first four rounds were going to be easy, the fifth doable, but the last two were outright impossible. Dallion was incapable of splitting into over a hundred instances, and relying on luck—as tempting as it was—didn’t sound like the solution.

“You could have stopped her,” Diroh said as the glasses twirled. “She would have listened to you.”

“We both know that’s a lie.” Dallion kept his concentration on the glasses. Focusing on his layer vision remained exhausting even now; it felt like an itch in the eye after a long sleepless night. Still, he was able to follow the glasses without issue.

Once they stopped the fury crossed her arms, expecting him to find the right one. As before, Dallion split into instances. In his mind, however, he was certain that it was the second on the right. There was a moment of suspense as that instance of him lifted the cup. Thankfully, the liquid floated out yet again. He had been right.

“Lucky guess.” Diroh shrugged. As she did, all glasses split into two, then reformed.

“Interesting trick.”

“Echoes of glass are still glasses,” the fury said, then continued with the usual shuffle. “And you’re wrong. She might have listened. Eury did.”

“Eury hasn’t made up her mind to leave this world.”

“True, but she hadn’t made up her mind to remain in a relationship with anyone, either. She’s been with you how long? Nine months? Do you know of anyone else with whom she’s been so long?”

Dallion’s initial reaction was to immediately respond. However, that was the point at which he sensed it—jealousy, subtly woven in the girl’s words. That was a nice sneaky touch and a lesson for Dallion—just because the echo had the appearance of someone without music skills didn’t mean they couldn’t use them.

“Nice try,” Dallion said, counteracting the music attack. Sounds and emotions clashed in the air, negating each other. “That won’t work on me.”

“If it did, that would mean you’re not ready to pass the trial,” the fury said unapologetically. Moments later the glasses stopped moving again.

Splitting into sixteen instances, Dallion lifted each cup. Just as before the “drink” was in the place he expected it to be.

“There still was a chance that you could have stopped her. You didn’t even try.” There was nothing special in her voice this time, just a standard distraction. Even so, Dallion had to admit that she was right. He could have made an effort to be closer to Jiroh, even if it was obvious that she wanted to get Eury and him together. Thinking about it, maybe the reason was precisely because she was leaving this world.

No, Dallion told himself. All these are my fears.

“Just because you fear it doesn’t make it less true. You’ll never know whether you could have stopped her or not.”

“That’s not the focus of the trial. And it isn’t the point. A lot of things could have happened, but her life is not mine to live.”

At that, the fury frowned. With a slam, the glasses divided, filling most of the counter. There was a momentary pause, after which they started shuffling again, only this time at three times the speed. At this point, just looking at them wasn’t enough. Dallion had to split into three instances in order to follow everything. His eyes were starting to hurt slightly.

“You’re still reactive,” Diroh said. “Not all the time. That’s why you passed the gate and got your hunter emblem, but you still are.”

Dallion didn’t reply. He didn’t even think of an answer, focusing on the glass he had set his sights on. It would have been so much easier if it had some tell or marker, but for all practical purposes, the glasses were absolutely identical both in appearance and behavior. Even using music and forging skills didn’t help distinguishing between them. Everything depended on Dallion following the right glass until the end.

The glasses continued moving for about half a minute. It was almost as if the fury was doing it on purpose to exhaust Dallion. Given that this was an awakening trial, it was normal to expect it would strain Dallion in some way. Doing it in such fashion, though, seemed outright petty.

“What will you do next time?” The fury asked before Dallion could pick up the glass. “There will be more glasses than instances you can make.”

“Maybe I’ll just make a dozen echoes as well?” Dallion suggested, his hand still gripping the glass. “If each echo has even a quarter of my splitting potential…”

“How many instances can an echo instance, if an echo could instance instances?” Diroh asked. The question was catchy. Maybe at some point Dallion was going to use it.

“Or maybe I won’t have to.” He raised the glass in all instances.

As usual, he managed to find the correct one. However, chills ran down Dallion’s spine as he found that the glass, he thought would have the liquid, ended up being empty.

How? Dallion thought back to a minute ago. He had seen the glass that had scooped the liquid, and he was certain that he had followed it ever since.

“Overconfident as always,” the fury sighed. “I guess you’ll have to resort to echoes, after all. Well, that’s if you can trust the echoes. Since this is a trial, how can you be sure that you actually created them and not me?”

Dallion kept staring at the empty glass, while holding the correct one.

“How did you do it?”

“Is it okay to ask?” Diroh smiled. “Figure that out and you’ll figure the trial. I’ve already given you more than enough hints. All the rest is up to you.”

Hey, can you hear me? Dallion asked the glasses. None of them responded—they were only props, not actual items. That meant that another set of his skills was useless. Still, there had to be a way to complete the trial—he wouldn’t have been given it otherwise. The question was what to do in order to find the answer.

Maybe the trial wasn’t this simple, after all.