The Monster King's Legacy - Chapter 119

Chapter 119: The Trial
Lance landed hard on his side, rolling instinctively to absorb the impact. He groaned, pushing himself up and shaking his head to clear the dizziness. The air was heavier here, thick with something that smelled old and damp.

Looking up, he saw that he had fallen into some kind of underground cavern. Massive roots hung from the ceiling, glowing faintly with a pulsing, greenish light. The walls were covered in strange markings, symbols that looked ancient and forgotten.

He stood, dusting himself off, and took a careful step forward. His instincts were screaming now. There was something down here. Watching… Waiting.

Just when he was going to push his worries to the back of his mind for a moment, a voice rang out. Unlike the whispers above, this one was clear, eerie, almost… welcoming.

“A visitor? How unexpected.”

Lance turned, his dagger ready. From the darkness, a figure emerged. It was humanoid but… not quite. Its features were blurred, shifting like the mist above. Eyes glowed with an eerie silver light, and its presence felt ancient, as though it had been here long before the forest even existed.

“Who are you?” Lance demanded.

The figure looked at him, somehow, he could tell that it was unamused for some reason. “I am the Keeper of the Forest of Trials. And you, traveler, have been chosen.”

Lance narrowed his eyes. “Chosen for what?”

The Keeper smiled, though its face did not move.

“To face the true trial of this place,” it said. “And if you fail… you will never leave.”

Lance’s grip on his dagger tightened as he stared at the shifting figure before him. The Keeper’s presence felt ancient, its form flickering between solidity and mist, as if it existed in multiple states at once.

“The true trial?” Lance repeated, his voice wary. “You mean the forest messing with my sense of direction wasn’t the real test?”

The Keeper’s silver eyes glowed brighter. “That was merely the entrance. The Forest of Trials does not let just anyone pass. Only those deemed worthy are allowed.”

Lance let out a slow breath. As it was now, a trial by an eerie forest wasn’t going to be the thing that would break him. “Alright then. What’s the test?”

The Keeper lifted a shadowy hand, and suddenly, the cavern shifted. The roots hanging from the ceiling twisted and reformed, spreading outward like living veins. The pulsing green glow intensified, and the walls of the cavern rippled as if they were breathing.

“You must face yourself.”

Lance frowned. “That’s vague. Can I get any more details?”

The Keeper chuckled, the sound echoing unnaturally through the cavern. “Very well. To leave this place, you must overcome the greatest opponent of all, your own mind.”

The air around Lance grew heavy. A sharp pain shot through his head, and his vision blurred. The cavern flickered, and suddenly, he was no longer standing underground. Instead, he was in the middle of a battlefield.

Bodies littered the ground, goblins, orcs, beastkin, all people he had fought beside, even Aelyndra lay dead and bloodied. Blood soaked the earth, and the metallic scent of death filled the air. The sky above was dark, churning clouds flashing with red lightning.

Lance’s heart pounded, every thing felt so real, but as soon as he saw Aelyndra’s body, his mind calmed down… there was no way this scene was real, ‘no way at all.’

From the far side of the field, a figure stepped forward. Lance’s squinted his eyes as he looked forward to see who it was… just as he had expected… It was himself.

His doppelgänger stood tall, clad in a similar gear to him, wielding the same weapons, but his eyes were different. They were darker, colder. He carried the weight of every mistake, every failure Lance had ever experienced. Or at least, it felt that much.

“You know why you’re here,” the other Lance said, voice calm yet edged with something sinister.

Lance rolled his shoulders, preparing for a fight. “Yeah. I get the feeling we’re not about to sit down and talk this out.”

The doppelgänger smirked. “Would you listen if we did?”

Lance didn’t answer. He surged forward, dagger in hand, aiming straight for his double’s chest. The moment his blade struck, his opponent vanished into mist, reappearing behind him with a speed that mirrored his own.

A sharp pain shot through Lance’s side as the doppelgänger’s dagger found its mark. He stumbled forward, gritting his teeth. This wasn’t a mere illusion, his copy was every bit as strong and skilled as he was.

“You’ve always been reckless,” the other Lance said. “Charging into situations head first, relying on instinct over strategy.”

Lance exhaled sharply, forcing himself to ignore the pain. He wasn’t going to win by fighting this like a normal battle. His opponent wasn’t just a reflection—it was every doubt, every failure, every moment of hesitation given form… and it wasn’t what it seemed at first.

“When it comes to fights, I’m very cautious, and that goes for a lot of other things as well… you aren’t just a culmination of my time in this world, are you?”

The battle continued, their movements perfectly mirrored. Lance slashed, his copy countered. He dodged, his double anticipated it. Every strength he had, his opponent had as well. Every trick he attempted was instantly countered.

Then again, even though it was a perfect copy of him, it didn’t seem to have his healing ability for some reason.

Lance took a step back, lowering his dagger slightly. “Alright,” he muttered. “I get it now.”

His doppelgänger tilted his head, a smirk on its face. “Oh?”

“This isn’t about winning, is it?” Lance said. “It’s about acceptance.”

His double frowned, a bit of hesitation visible as the mist around them trembled.

Lance let out a breath. “I’ve seen this kind of scenario countless times in stories and movies, can’t believe I’d find myself in one. Regardless, I have a better way to end this.” Lance said, this time, he was the one with the cheeky smirk on his face.

At that moment, he remembered something, a style of fight popularized by one of the greatest martial artist in his old world, ‘The Drunken Fist’. Past that, an even unpredictable style, fighting out of rhythm an off instincts alone. Though it was something he had never practiced before, he only needed to mimic whatever his memory could bring forth.

Another fight started, and through to the end, Lance kept surprising himself, his doppelganger. Just as he had been told, this time be fully embraced it, jumping into the fight without care for his body, after all, he could just heal himself while his counterpart couldn’t.

In only a few minutes… perhaps not a few, Lance had triumphed over himself. He stood over his other self a smirk on his face. “You out did yourself, haha. It appears, you’re easy to defeat,” the other Lance said, his form beginning to dissolve. “Looks like you pass.”

The battlefield blurred, and quickly, the scent of blood faded. In the next blink, he was back in the underground cavern, standing before the Keeper as though he had never left.

The Keeper’s glowing eyes regarded him with something akin to approval. “Few face themselves and emerge victorious… and to do so in such a manner… I’ve only seen that happen as many times as I could count in one hand… perhaps, you are exceptional.” The keeper said.

Lance let out a shaky breath, rolling his shoulders. “That was… unpleasant.”

The Keeper chuckled, perhaps, the most genuine one yet. “This trial only allows those who grow from their past to leave. But you, you have earned your way forward.”

Lance nodded, regaining his composure. “So, what now?”

The Keeper gestured, and the cavern wall behind it melted away, revealing a path leading upward. “Now, you leave.”

‘Just like that?’ Lance thought to himself.

Lance didn’t hesitate further, he stepped forward, going through the path leading out until he emerged at an oddly familiar sight…

‘What?’