Victor's POV
Victor spent the day in peace.
The realization came late, slipping into him when his guard was down. No alarms. No screaming. No weight pressing on his chest, waiting to crush him the moment he hesitated. The hours passed without incident, smooth and uninterrupted, and that alone made his skin crawl.
Nothing demanded his attention. Nothing tried to kill him.
The world moved slowly, almost kindly, as if daring him to relax.
He didn't.
He worked beside Hector under a pale sky, chopping wood, repairing the fence, feeding the goats. His hands moved on instinct, muscles remembering a rhythm older than fear. The animals nudged him, bleated softly, their warmth grounding him in something simple and alive. No monsters. No blood. No screaming.
They spent the afternoon working in silence. Hector fixed a loose fence post while Victor carried planks and held nails in his mouth, the taste of rust and wood lingering on his tongue. Dust clung to his skin. His muscles ached in a familiar, honest way.
Occasionally, Hector spoke, small comments, half-formed thoughts, nothing important. Victor answered without thinking. The words came easily. Too easily.
The normalcy settled over him like a borrowed coat. Comfortable. Ill-fitting.
Victor laughed. A real laugh. The sound startled him.
It felt wrong, how easy it was. How natural.
That was what terrified him most.
As the day stretched on, Victor caught himself watching Hector when he thought his brother wasn't looking. The way Hector moved. The way he frowned in concentration. The way he smiled when things went right.
This isn't real, Victor told himself.
But the warmth of the sun on his skin felt real. The ache in his arms felt real. The way his chest loosened, just a little, felt real.
It felt like a dream you didn't want to wake up from.
Evening came softly. The sky burned red and gold, shadows stretching long across the grass. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney. The goats settled down, their bells chiming faintly as they lay to rest.
For a few fragile hours, Victor let himself forget.
Night came.
They went to sleep.
And then—
The goats screamed.
The sound ripped through the dark like a blade, sharp and desperate and wrong. Victor's eyes snapped open. His heart slammed against his ribs so hard it hurt. The scream echoed again, followed by frantic bleating, hooves crashing against wood.
No.
His body went cold.
Beside him, Hector was already moving. Sitting up. Reaching for the hoe leaned against the wall.
"Hector—" Victor croaked.
"I'll check it out," Hector said, voice calm, steady. Too calm.
Victor's chest tightened. He scrambled out of bed. "Brother, no. Let it be. Please."
Hector paused, just long enough to glance back. Moonlight caught his face. He smiled, easy and familiar.
"Relax, Vicky. Probably just a wild animal."
Victor shook his head violently. "No—no, don't go."
Hector stood anyway.
Victor followed him outside, bare feet sinking into the cold dirt. The night air felt heavier than it should have, pressing in on his lungs.
The clearing lay ahead.
And there it was.
The beast.
Sleek and low, muscles rippling beneath dark fur. Leopard-like, but wrong, too lean, too sharp, its movements predatory and deliberate. Moonlight reflected in its eyes, glowing faintly as it lifted its head and locked its gaze onto them.
Victor's blood turned to ice.
This wasn't a memory.
This was a reenactment.
"Vicky," Hector said quietly, stepping forward. "It's alone. We can take care of it."
The words slammed into Victor like a curse.
"No…" he whispered.
He knew this body was smaller, frailer, the fifteen-year-old version of himself, stripped of all the strength he had earned.
No Guardian's Stance. No Advanced Hammer Mastery. No power carved from months of survival and suffering in the Misleading Woods.
Just a fragile frame and a heart thumping with all the fear he knew he shouldn't feel.
Every step felt like moving through thick air. Every muscle seemed hesitant, untrained. Every second brought a cruel reminder: he was powerless.
The beast roared.
The sound crushed Victor's chest, vibrating through bone and marrow. His knees buckled. His axe slipped from numb fingers and hit the ground with a dull thud.
It's happening again.
Time stretched. The world slowed to a crawl.
The beast's eyes were on him. Hunger. Calculation. Fear twisted into something sharp and unbearable in his gut.
Move.
His legs didn't respond.
MOVE, DAMMIT!
Fear wrapped around him, squeezing tighter, stealing his breath. His thoughts spiraled.
If I don't move—
If I don't move—
Hector will die again.
The beast shifted its weight. Muscles coiled like steel springs.
It lunged.
"No!" Victor screamed.
Memories smashed into him, Hector's blood spraying, the sickly wet sound of tearing flesh, his brother's gentle smile as death claimed him.
I can't. Not again. I won't stand by while he dies.
His chest burned. Vision blurred. Every fiber of his body trembled.
I hate this. I hate myself.
The beast closed the distance, jaws opening, eyes burning like molten gold.
Something snapped.
"No!" Victor growled, voice raw, ripping itself from his throat. Pain flared as his nails dug into his palms, grounding him.
He forced his legs forward. Staggered.
Grabbed the fallen axe with shaking hands.
"I can't keep being a scared loser," he snarled, voice breaking. "I won't."
The beast leapt again, a living missile of fur and teeth.
Victor didn't hesitate. He met its charge, heart hammering, rage pouring through every vein. He swung.
Steel screamed through the air, just short of the beast's skull as his axe arced forward.
Then suddenly
The world started to fracture. Cracks split the sky like shattered glass, white light bleeding through every fissure. The beast froze mid-leap, its form twisting, unraveling, warping.
The ground dissolved beneath his feet. The trees, the cottage, the night sky, all of it melted into nothing.
White. Silence.
Victor collapsed, muscles trembling, chest heaving.
Sensation returned piece by piece. His limbs, his heartbeat, his strength, all his own. He was back in his real body
And a hovering window appeared before him:
___________________________
You have overcome the Trial of Fear. The Temple of Trials congratulates you.
Reward Acquired:
Skill: Steeled Nerve