Eldritch Assassin: Reincarnated With An SSS-Rank Devouring System
Chapter 106: Trial Of The Gatekeeper

Chapter 106: Trial Of The Gatekeeper

Kael spat another glob of blood, his silver eyes burning with defiance. Let the Gatekeeper adapt. Let the trial try to break him. He was Kael, cultivator of the Silent Eclipse and Crescent Requiem, and he would carve his path through this void, no matter the cost.

The Gatekeeper raised its glaive, its stance shifting, ready to strike again. Kael met its gaze—or the glowing line where its eyes should have been—and grinned, a predator’s challenge in the face of an ancient foe. The dance was far from over, and he was ready to lead.

Kael spat another glob of blood onto the stone bridge, the crimson splatter stark against its worn surface. His silver eyes blazed with defiance, a fire that burned brighter than the pain coursing through his battered body.

Let the Gatekeeper adapt, let the trial seek to shatter him—he was Kael, cultivator of the Silent Eclipse and Crescent Requiem, a warrior forged in blood and shadow. He would carve his path through this void, no matter the cost, no matter the price exacted from his soul.

The Gatekeeper loomed before him, its obsidian armor glinting under the faint, otherworldly light, its helm’s glowing red line pulsing like a heartbeat. It raised its massive glaive, the crescent blade humming with a low, mournful promise, its stance shifting with a subtle, calculated grace that spoke of readiness to strike.

Kael met its gaze—or the unyielding void where eyes should have been—and grinned, a predator’s challenge etched into his blood-streaked face.

The combat phase had been a prelude, a brutal dance of steel and will, but Kael was far from finished. He was his battle, and he was ready to lead the next verse.

[Phase One: Trial Completed.]

The System’s voice reverberated through the void, cold and resolute as if the bridge itself had passed judgment. The Gatekeeper’s glaive vanished from its hands, dissolving into wisps of mist that curled upward like smoke. It stepped back, lowering its armored limbs with deliberate precision, its form becoming a silent sentinel once more.

The swirling grey clouds around the bridge shimmered, their currents rippling faster as if stirred by an unseen force awakening within the trial’s heart.

Kael narrowed his eyes, his breath steadying despite the ache in his ribs and the blood seeping through his patched robes. The air grew colder, the wind’s chill seeping into his bones, a subtle shift that the trial was evolving, preparing to test him in ways beyond the physical.

[Phase Two: Resolve – Initiated.]

The ground beneath his feet trembled, a low vibration that seemed to emanate from the depths of the void. The narrow stone bridge stretched impossibly, its edges blurring as it extended into an endless expanse, a ribbon of stone stretching miles—perhaps forever—into the heart of the mist.

Far ahead, the fog thickened, coalescing into shapes that rose like specters from a forgotten age. Shadows. Memories. Whispers of a past that refused to stay buried.

Kael blinked, his vision wavering as the trial peeled back the layers of his soul, exposing wounds he’d thought long healed. The first figure materialized, her form achingly familiar, her dark hair matted with blood, her eyes glassy and accusing.

"Mira," he whispered, his voice cracking, barely audible in the suffocating silence.

She stood before him, bloodied and broken, her once-vibrant spirit dimmed by death. "Why weren’t you fast enough, Kael?" Her voice echoed soft yet piercing, a broken lament that cut deeper than any blade.

Her gaze bore into him, filled with sorrow and betrayal, each word a weight that pressed against his chest, stealing his breath from his lungs.

Kael clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, the pain grounding him against the tide of guilt. He took a step forward, his boots feeling heavy as if the bridge were pulling him downward, tethering him to his failures.

Another shadow formed, and he saw his mother, her silhouette frail yet imposing, her eyes burning with disappointment.

"You could’ve done more," she said, her voice a low, resonant murmur that carried the weight of years lost to struggle and sacrifice. "You were meant to be greater, Kael. Why do you falter?"

His heart lurched, a pang of shame twisting within him, but he forced another step, the bridge groaning beneath his weight.

Then came Dorian, his former mentor, his face etched with scorn. "Weak," he spat, the word a lash that stung deeper than any wound. "You’ll always be weak."

Kael’s legs trembled, his breath shaking, but he walked on, each step a battle against the ghosts that rose to meet him. More shadows emerged, their faces twisting into those he’d known, fought beside, or failed.

Taryn’s smirk cut through the mist, her voice dripping with mockery. "You’re just lucky, Kael. Nothing more." Cedric’s laughter followed, sharp and derisive, echoing like a chorus of doubt. "You think you belong here? You’re a fraud."

The bridge stretched endlessly, its surface slick with an unseen dew that mirrored the sweat beading on Kael’s brow. The voices grew louder, their words becoming blades that sliced at his resolve, each one a reminder of his flaws, his failures, his fears.

Shadows of enemies he’d faced in the pagoda’s trials appeared—Wyrmkin Reapers, Infernal Sentinels, their hollow eyes accusing him of surviving where others had fallen. Even Lysara’s face flickered in the mist, her nod of respect twisting into a sneer. "You’ll break, Kael. You always do."

His body felt heavy as if the void itself were dragging him down, each step a struggle against an invisible tide. His breath came in shallow gasps, his vision blurring at the edges, the weight of his past threatening to crush him.

Doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind, whispering that the voices were right, that he was unworthy, that his path was a lie.

But Kael didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Deep within him, a spark flickered—a memory, a truth that refused to be extinguished. He remembered Mira’s final smile, faint but radiant, a beacon of trust in the face of death. He recalled Evelyne’s unwavering faith, her quiet strength that had bolstered him when he faltered.

Sera’s laughter echoed in his mind, bright and unyielding, a reminder of the bonds he’d forged. Lysara’s nod of respect, earned through blood and struggle, resurfaced, its sincerity cutting through the fog of doubt.

These were not just memories—they were anchors, tethering him to the reasons he fought, the reasons he endured. Kael’s trembling legs steadied, his breath slowing as he drew on the strength of those who had shaped him, those who believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself.

The voices of the shadows grew fainter, their accusations losing their edge as he walked on, each step a defiance of the trial’s attempt to break him.

He remembered why he fought—not for glory, not for power, but for those he’d lost and those he still protected. For the path he’d chosen, the Silent Eclipse of the dagger and the Crescent Requiem of the sword, a harmony of precision and balance that defined him. The pagoda could strip him of his strength, his weapons, and even his certainty, but it could not take his resolve.

The bridge seemed to stretch forever, the shadows rising and falling like waves in a storm, but Kael pressed forward, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

The mist parted before him, the voices fading into whispers, then silence, as if the void itself acknowledged his unyielding will. His body ached, and his wounds pulsed, but his spirit burned brighter, a flame that no trial could extinguish.

Finally, he reached the end of the bridge, the stone beneath his feet solid and unyielding, a testament to his journey. The Gatekeeper stood before him, its red-glowing helm pulsing faintly, its silence a judgment and a challenge. Kael met its gaze, his silver eyes steady, his breath calm despite the weight of what he’d faced.

[Phase Two: Resolve – Completed.]

The System’s voice echoed, a quiet affirmation of his victory. The mist swirled faster, the bridge trembling as the trial prepared to shift once more. Kael’s fists unclenched, Abyssal Fang still at his side, its presence a silent promise of battles yet to come.

The shadows had tested him, had sought to break him with the weight of his past, but he had emerged stronger, his resolve forged anew in the crucible of memory and truth.

Two phases remained—Dao and control—each a mystery, each a challenge that would demand more than steel or strength. Kael’s lips curved into a faint, defiant smile. Let the Gatekeeper bring its worst. Let the pagoda test his soul. He was ready not just to survive but to transcend.

The Gatekeeper raised its arms, the runes on its armor flaring brighter, the void around them pulsing with anticipation. Kael steadied his stance, Abyssal Fang gleaming in his grip, its edge a reflection of his unbowed spirit.

The trial was far from over, and he would face it as he always had—with defiance, with resolve, with the heart of a cultivator who refused to break.