The Shard Palace rose before them, a jagged crown of living glass that refracted the fractured light of the Expanse. From the moment they crossed the threshold, Artorius felt the familiar pulse of resonance, stronger here than anywhere else in the biome. The air shimmered as if the Palace itself were breathing, its walls bending the light and sound into strange, disorienting patterns. The world outside, the dunes, the storms seemed to vanish. Here, only the Palace existed.
The first corridor stretched ahead, walls and ceiling carved from smooth, translucent crystal that glittered with inner storms of light. At first glance, it seemed like a regular hallway, the army advanced cautiously.
The first tiles sang beneath their feet, harmonic vibrations humming in deep, resonant tones. A wrong step, the stagger of a foot, the misfired clank of metal caused a spike of crystal to erupt from the floor. A foot soldier yelped as a shard nicked his leg. "Move as one!" Artorius shouted. "Step in rhythm, or we all die here."
The army fell into a single synchronized pattern, every footfall, clawstep, and hissed breath timed. The resonance of their motion stabilized the floors, allowing them to move safely. But it wasn't just the ground. Walls responded too. Crystal panels grew toward them, sharp edges extending and retracting with a subtle awareness of noise. Even casual chatter became a weapon the Palace could wield.
By the time they emerged from the final chamber of the Gauntlet, the soldiers were transformed. Footsteps were silent when needed, breathing measured, and movements precise. The resonances of the palace had forced them into perfect coordination. Artorius allowed himself a rare smile.
The army pushed forward through the next corridor, the walls fading into a shimmering haze of semi-liquid crystal. It flowed like mercury in slow motion, catching the fractured light from above and scattering it into dazzling, dangerous patterns. The air hummed with latent energy, charged with the palace's consciousness. This was the Crystallization Chambers.
From the start, it was clear this was no ordinary trap. No walls moved by themselves, no spikes shot from the floor yet the environment felt alive. The mist undulated around them as if watching and waiting for any mistake. "Hold steady," Artorius said, his voice firm.
The soldiers stared, uneasy, as the mist rippled outward. Tzharun's gruff laughter, meant to break tension, caused a ripple of hardened crystal to rise beneath him. Velkra's frown at her scattered troops sent sharp, jagged stalagmites sprouting from the floor. Even small moments of relief, a quiet smile shared between soldiers, caused delicate spikes to grow unpredictably, threatening to impale anyone who moved carelessly.
It became obvious: any strong emotion whether it be fear, anger, joy, even pride was a weapon the chamber could use against them. Artorius led slowly, each step deliberate. He watched his own pulse, breathed steadily, and reminded his men to do the same. The army followed, mimicking calm, disciplined breathing, training their minds to remain neutral in the face of impossible beauty and latent danger.
The real danger, however, was that the chamber seemed to anticipate reactions. Reflections of lost comrades or illusions of distant triumphs would appear in the mist, deliberately tugging at memories. After hours that seemed to stretch into days, the army emerged from the Crystallization Chambers intact, bodies weary but minds sharper, nerves taut and controlled.
They moved forward into the deeper recesses of the Shard Palace, stepping from one chamber to the next as the fractured light shifted around them. Through endless corridors, halls, and chambers, each challenge tested them in ways beyond brute force.
The soldiers learned to move as one, to anticipate the palace's subtle shifts, and to trust not only Artorius but also one another. As they pressed deeper the sense of being observed never left them.
Finally, they reached the central chamber, the heart of the Shard Palace, the temperature seemed to drop, and the air thickened with oppressive energy. The chamber they entered was vast, the ceiling stretching high above them, lost in the glittering dark. It was a cathedral of glass massive shards suspended in midair, connected by veins of glowing mana like a web of shattered stars. The floor, a smooth expanse of fractured crystal, shimmered with reflections that bent the light into a thousand mirrored images.
At the far end of the chamber, there was a shape that loomed larger than anything Artorius had seen. A massive crystalline draconic shaped golem stood there whose form seemed both solid and ethereal, as if it were made of light itself. The air pulsed with its presence, every facet of its body refracting the light into chaotic, dazzling patterns.
[Prism Warden — Level 23]
Artorius halted, his army instinctively falling into a loose formation, eyes locked on the guardian. Ouroboros whispered at his side, voice tense, "This seems to be the dungeon boss, be careful!"
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The Prism Warden's eyes multi-faceted like a thousand mirrors flashed with sudden awareness. A low, resonating hum filled the chamber, as though the very ground vibrated beneath them. Then, with a loud crack like the snapping of thunder, it moved.
The Warden's wings unfolded, massive and sharp, each scale a sharp shard of crystal that caught the light like a thousand blades. Its roar was an explosion of sound and light, deafening and blinding, as shards of crystallized air shot outward from its body.
The army instinctively raised their shields and weapons as the creature charged at them. "Split up into your squads," Artorius called out, the Prism Warden lifted its massive tail and swung it down, a blur of razor-sharp facets aimed directly at him.
His reflexes, honed through countless battles, kicked in. He leapt to the side, hearing the screech of glass scraping across the floor as the Warden's tail crashed into the ground, sending tremors throughout the room.
Following his command, the swordmen attacked from behind whittling away at it while the spearmen held their ground at the front keeping the creature back and the archers picked at the creature from the sides. "Come on you big brute," Artorius called out as he was right up its face poking it with heroic blows powered by the word of flame. He was able to dance about most of its attack thanks in part to his wings and his instincts hone after many battles.
Seeing that it wasn't working, the Warden's arms became long and segmented, shifted with eerie fluidity. A massive cannon appeared on the Warden's forelimb, a deadly, crystallized array of refracted mana forming in the air. The cannon glowed with dangerous energy. "Take cover," Artorius shouted.
The cannon aimed at the front lines of the army, and with a horrifying sound, a massive cone of crystallizing energy shot out. It shattered the air, leaving a trail of frozen, jagged glass in its wake, transforming the battlefield into a web of frozen shards.
Unfortunately some of his forces couldn't make it to cover in time as the attack came their way. Drawing deeply from himself, Artorius had been close to mastering the Word of Power for Crystal for some time now however now it was do or die for his men. This was the moment.
He closed his eyes and anchored his feet into the fractured crystal beneath him. The ground hummed with raw power, ancient and unyielding, yet he knew he had to go deeper still. He reached instead for something older. Something that existed in every vein of the crystalline veins beneath his feet, every shard that sparkled in the Warden's body, every breath he had ever taken. He reached for the resonance of creation.
The world around him faded, replaced by the stark, quiet hum of crystal growing in his mind's eye. Artorius reached for the heart of that sound, that hum. He felt the crystalline presence moving through him, threading through his bones, carving its way into his soul. His thoughts grew clearer, sharper. The weight of his past, his scars, the ghosts of battles fought, all of it condensed into one primal understanding.
He remembered his first taste of the Word of Crystal. The coldness of it, the weight of it, how it had made him feel like an outsider. The Word of Flame had been so natural, so alive, so him. But Crystal? Crystal was stillness. It was infinite patience. It was the form, the structure, the foundations that could not be moved.
He spoke the Word, not with his voice but with his very essence. A simple thought, a single thread of intent. "Crystal."
The Word of Crystal rippled from him like a wave of energy, pulsing outward in a brilliant flash. A massive wall of crystal erupted from the ground, rising up between the army and the Warden. It wasn't enough to stop the entire blast, but it provided a momentary shield. The wall cracked and shattered under the strain of the Warden's attack, but it gave Artorius's men the precious seconds they needed to scatter to safety before they got vaporized.
Taking advantage of this opening Artorius raised his lance, infused with the Word of Flame, and hurled it at the Warden. The fire lance spun through the air and elongated, striking the Warden's heart, its glowing lodestone core exposed momentarily. "Now, while its defenses are down!" Artorius shouted.
As Artorius's spear struck, the Warden staggered back, a low rumble escaping its crystalline form. Then, with a haunting, crystalline roar, the Warden's eyes flared, and the very air around them began to warp. The battlefield shimmered, the temperature fluctuating wildly as memories of long-dead foes began to echo through the air. The Warden began pulling fragments of fallen foes that it had taken down and these memories manifested as twisted versions of themselves.
Still this was a last ditch desperate effort and he knew it was about to fall. "Finish these remnants," he called out as his army worked together in perfect synchronization, as they always had since their time in the Crystallization Chambers. Velkra hacked through the echoes with brutal precision, Tzharun smashed through the refracting light, and Sereneth used her serpentine agility to disable the Warden's lesser minions.
Meanwhile, with a battle cry, Artorius charged at the warden, its core exposed. It narrowed its eyes at him since he had been doing the main bulk of the damage to it. His lance stuck out from its chest, dodging the claw strike he jumped up and flapped his wings to gain altitude and landed onto it grabbing hold of his lance.
Then without any hesitation he charged up a heroic blow, it went off like a bomb further exposing its core and his army seemed to finish up what meager things the Warden summoned and they went at it.
Try as it want, the warden was brought low as its body began to crack, the resonance of its crystal body shattering into thousands of shards that exploded outward. The room seemed to groan with finality, as the last of the light bled from the battlefield.
You have slain [Prism Warden — Level 23]
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Archetype: [Leader] → Lv. 12
Stat gains: +1 INT, +1 WIL, +1 CHA
That battle seemed to take him over the edge as he finally gained a level. He was somewhat miffed as even after all this time in the expanse he hadn't been able to gain one level except now, it seemed like what Ouroboros mentioned about it getting harder to level up as he went further was correct.
He shook it off, focusing on the spoils of the battle. The first item they recovered was the Prism Cannon, a terrifying piece of war technology. The immense mana requirements for its use would limit its practicality, but the damage it could inflict was devastating. It was a weapon capable of obliterating entire squads, and Artorius had no doubt it would be a valuable asset to their forces.
From the shattered remains of the Warden's crystal body, the next item they uncovered was a Shieldbearer Class Token (Tier 0) - A wielder of the shield. A defender and a stalwart protector who stands as the unyielding wall between the dangers of the world.
It was a perfect fit for their new recruit, an uncommon crystalline draconid who had shown exceptional resilience named Anxar. Artorius hoped that one day he could form a full squad of these stalwart guardians, each one a living bastion of defense.
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The final item they found was a Crystal Harness(Unique) - A magical chest piece that absorbs any damage that the wearer receives in which they can use it to power their own attacks.
For this item it went to him, after his time here Artorius was pretty much like a tarizan all he had on was a loin cloth to cover his private parts. His suit that he came here with was long gone. Artorius donned it, feeling the weight of it settle against his skin and he felt more like a human.
Looking beyond the wreckage of the Warden, Artorius's gaze fell on the path ahead. "I believe the trial lies ahead," Ouroboros said.
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Artorius and his army stepped into the chamber, their footsteps echoing in the stillness. The air was thick with an ancient energy, and the atmosphere felt alive, like the room itself was watching them. The floor beneath them was smooth, reflective, as though made of polished crystal. At the center of the room stood a large, still pool of dark crystal-water, its surface unmoving and perfectly reflective.
Where the Shard Palace had been a monument of grandeur, the Trial of the Futures was a sanctuary of silence. The walls seemed to pulse with an ancient, intangible presence, the very air alive with potential and expectation.
At the center of the room, there was a pool, a dark, crystal-clear mirror of water that shimmered like liquid obsidian. Its surface lay completely still, undisturbed by even the faintest of breaths. But as Artorius approached, the water seemed to respond to his very presence, reflecting not only the room but something deeper, something that couldn't be seen by the naked eye.
"Well who wants to enter?" Artorius asked. Everyone looked hesitant or fearful. Trials were not for the faint-hearted. No one volunteered to enter the pool, they were wary of what might happen or be inside there.
"Looks like it's only you," Ouroboros joked. "Anyways the trial has enough energy right now for only one person."
The path was his alone. He stood tall, his wings folding slightly as his hand reached out toward the surface of the water. He took a deep breath, and with a steadying exhale, he pressed his palm against the water's cool surface.
The moment he did, the world around him seemed to collapse inward, as though reality itself was twisting in on him. The chamber vanished, and for a moment, Artorius felt nothing—only the sensation of falling, of plunging into a deep, endless void.
Then, a cold, knowing voice spoke within his mind. "You seek to understand, to perceive beyond what is given. But what you seek cannot be found without cost. There is no knowledge without sacrifice, no truth without consequence. The mind is a labyrinth, and you must face the shadows within."
In the distance, a figure appeared. It was a shadow, a form outlined by light. But as it approached, Artorius saw it clearly: it was him. A different version of him. He was the traitor, giving up on humanity and turning to other forces.
Other versions began to emerge; alternate realities, other possible paths. He saw himself as a conqueror, ruling a vast empire. He saw himself as a hermit, content to live alone in the wilderness. He saw himself a broken knight, defeated, cast down by the forces he had fought so hard to overcome.
He was the betrayed, eyes filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. He was the sacrifice, giving up everything for the greater good. Each version of himself appeared, one after another, faster and faster until they blurred together into a whirlwind of possibilities, like a storm of shards.
And then, at the very center of it all, was a single, unwavering light, a figure standing tall, untouched by the chaos around it. It was his future self, the man he could become if he chose the right path.
He was… the King of Knight. Artorius was not ruled by his past, nor was he shackled by fear of the future. He was the man who had forged his own destiny, who had risen above every trial to become a leader, a king, a protector of all who needed him.
Suddenly the trial started breaking down, the world seemed to fragment around him, reality warping and shattering like glass under the weight of its own existence.
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A/N: The Crystal Harness is based on the He-man harness!
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Chapter 16 Recap!
Leveled up Race: [True-Blood DragonMen] → Lvl. 12!
Leveled up Archetype: [Leader] → Lv. 12
Found: Crystal Harness(Unique)