Chapter 310: Chapter 310 – “GO AWAY!!”

The air in the arena had shifted.

Not loudly.

Not dramatically.

But in a slow, sinking way—like the tension of an entire mountain settling deeper into the earth.

On the high stone platform, the seven dwarven elders watched Lilliane with sharpened eyes, their granite expressions carved into concern rather than excitement. Runes flickered across their armor like small breaths of firelight.

Elder Hilda leaned forward first, braid swaying over her shoulder as her eyes narrowed.

“Hm… that one was close,” she muttered, voice low but steady. “But the girl’s got a spine. Good mental fortitude.”

Several elders nodded in agreement, murmuring in rough, approving grumbles. Even Elder Brokk stroked his beard slowly, a rare sign of respect from the sharp-tongued dwarf.

Only Elder Huldor remained completely still.

He didn’t blink.

He didn’t shift.

He didn’t join the murmuring.

He simply watched Lilliane—his stare unwavering, heavy, reading every subtle tremor in her aura. The runes along his gauntlets dimmed and brightened faintly with each slow breath he drew, as though resonating with the trial he himself had activated.

Below the platform, the dwarven crowd… was not nearly as contemplative.

“Hmph… boring,” a stout dwarf muttered, chin propped on his fist. “She’s just standin’ there with her eyes closed.”

“Aye,” another agreed with a yawn. “Thought it’d be bloody. Or loud. Or at least somethin’ moved!”

But an older dwarf sitting beside them shook his head with a gravelly grunt.

“You fools. That illusion can break a weak mind. Crush it. Splinter it. Trials o’ the mind be deadlier than swingin’ a thousand hammers at yer skull.”

The younger dwarves quieted—slightly—but their boredom lingered in their slouched shoulders and tapping boots.

Meanwhile, in the challengers’ stand, not a single person was bored.

The tension sat thick enough to chew.

Sylthara’s hands had curled tightly around the barricade, her golden eyes fixed on the motionless Lilliane, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Selena, still pale from the night before, watched with narrowed, calculating eyes—cold but undeniably alert.

And Luca…

Luca had leaned forward without realizing, elbows bracing against his knees, hands intertwined tightly. His eyes didn’t leave Lilliane even once, not even to blink. His breathing was quiet, but heavier than usual—caught between worry and focus.

Beside him, the Tower Master sat straight-backed, veil still, hands resting lightly on her lap. But her gaze…her gaze was like a blade pointed directly at the arena floor.

Luca questioned looking at her, “Master , what exactly is tested in such mental fortitude trials?”

As even he had no idea what Lilliane was facing at the moment.

Her voice was calm when she answered Luca’s question.

“It can be anything,” she said softly. “Whatever the mind fears most. Past events that cut deepest. Possibilities you don’t wish to face. Memories you never wanted to see again—or those your heart buried to survive.”

Her fingers folded gently together, a delicate movement but unreadable behind the fabric of her sleeves.

“It is a trial of one’s consciousness,” she continued. “That which you fear… and that which you wish never existed… may surface.”

Sylthara swallowed.

Selena looked away briefly.

Luca nodded slowly, absorbing every word.

He looked back at Lilliane—standing alone, unmoving, eyes closed, breath steady but shallow.

If that’s the case…

then what is she seeing? What is she fighting in there…?

And…..will she be able to survive that?

His thoughts tightened around him—

—but whatever answer he imagined—

was cut cleanly from his mind in the very next heartbeat.

Inside the Illusion

The white void around Lilliane trembled—hairline cracks forming across its surface like fractured glass.

She took one steady step forward.

“Aiden…?” she whispered.

The name left her lips as if pulled from somewhere deep—instinctive, vulnerable.

The world snapped.

Light twisted, colors bleeding into shape until she stood in the familiar courtyard of Arcadia Academy, sunlight spilling through the trees in warm, gentle waves.

Her heartbeat softened.

The breeze carried laughter.

Aiden’s laughter.

She turned sharply.

There he was—standing beneath the shade of a tall oak, golden hair catching the sunlight, sword at his hip. He stood relaxed, smiling.

But he wasn’t alone.

A girl was with him.

Bright-eyed. Radiant. Laughing too sweetly, standing too close.

Lilliane’s breath froze.

Every sound around her muted, drowned under the slow rise of something hot and sickly twisting in her chest.

Aiden…? Who… who is she? Why… why is he smiling like that?

Her fingers curled into her palms.

The illusion sharpened brutally—every detail too real.

Aiden leaned in slightly, brushing a leaf off the girl’s shoulder. The girl giggled, blush warming her cheeks.

Lilliane blinked—once, twice—her mind refusing to accept the scene, shaking in silent denial.

“No,” she whispered. “No… he wouldn’t…”

But they didn’t fade.

The girl reached out, touching Aiden’s sleeve shyly.

And Aiden—soft, gentle Aiden—lifted his hand and placed it over hers.

Her ribs tightened around her heart like iron bands.

Her throat burned.

Why…? Why her? Why not me?

Her breath shortened and shortened until she could barely pull air into her lungs.

The girl whispered something. Aiden laughed again.

Too close.

Too warm.

Lilliane took a step forward automatically. Her heart pounded unrhythmically, violently, every beat crashing into her skull.

“Aiden,” she said louder.

He didn’t hear.

“…Aiden.”

Still nothing.

The girl touched his cheek.

And something cracked loudly inside Lilliane’s mind.

“AIDEN!”

Neither turned.

They didn’t see her.

It was like she wasn’t there at all.

Her hands trembled violently, her vision blurring at the edges. A splitting ache ripped behind her eyes—something twisting, dragging, tearing through memories and desire and fear that had been locked tightly for years.

Aiden is mine.

He promised.

He smiled at me like that.

He held my hand like that.

He said I mattered.

Her breathing turned erratic, shallow, panicked.

She didn’t even try to fight the illusion anymore.

She forgot it was an illusion.

She forgot everything except—

He’s leaving.

He’s choosing someone else.

He’s abandoning me.

Her knees weakened, dropping her halfway before she caught herself on shaking arms.

Then the illusion shifted.

Suddenly she stood in the academy hallway at sunset.

Aiden walked past her.

Without looking at her.

Without stopping.

Without hearing her whisper, “Aiden…?”

He walked straight to another girl—someone Lilliane didn’t even recognize—and whispered something gently into her ear. The girl blushed. Aiden stepped closer.

Lilliane’s heart tore.

Why? Why doesn’t he see me? Why doesn’t he hear me? Why is she allowed to stand beside him?

Her nails dug into her palms until they broke skin.

Her breaths came ragged.

Her expression blurred between disbelief and devastation.

Her mind, already strained from the earlier illusions, split cleanly.

Inside her skull, everything turned too loud—voices crashing, memories flickering, fears clawing at her consciousness.

He’ll leave you.

He’ll replace you.

You’re nothing to him.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head so hard her hair whipped around her face. “He’s… he’s mine… he promised… he—he wouldn’t—”

But then—

Aiden turned toward the other girl, eyes warm, smile soft.

And he said:

“Thank you… for always being by my side.”

Something inside Lilliane shattered.

Utterly.

Completely.

It was quiet.

Devastatingly quiet.

Not a scream.

Not a wail.

Just a single, broken exhale… as if her soul had been punched out of her lungs.

Her vision fractured—colors bleeding into static. Her body shook uncontrollably. Tears finally spilled, slow at first, then pouring freely down her face.

Her pupils trembled, losing their sharp focus.

Her lips parted—

“Aiden… don’t…”

And the world around her ruptured like thin glass.

The world around Lilliane blurred—colors smearing into streaks of red and gold—until only Aiden remained, standing beneath the courtyard tree with that impossible smile.

Her breath trembled as she stepped toward him, her hands shaking so violently she almost couldn’t hold them steady.

“Aiden…”

Her voice cracked, thin as a thread.

“Why… why are you doing this to me…?”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t even look up.

Lilliane’s chest tightened painfully—like someone had reached inside and crushed her heart in their fist. Tears spilled again, but she didn’t bother wiping them.

She stepped closer.

“Aiden… tell me.”

Her voice wavered, but she forced the words through the trembling.

“Why her? Why not me?”

His shoulders stiffened—barely—and then he turned, meeting her eyes with a soft, almost apologetic smile.

It killed her.

“Lilliane,” he said gently, “we were kids.”

The words landed like a blade.

Her lips parted soundlessly.

“K-kids…?”

He nodded with that same unbearable gentleness.

“Yes. We were just friends.”

Lilliane’s knees almost gave out.

A sob ripped through her chest, raw and breathless.

“Friends…? Is that all I ever was to you?”

She choked on the words.

“What about everything you told me? When we were little—when you said we’d always stay together—was that nothing to you?”

Her voice shattered.

“What about those years, Aiden? Those years I—”

Her breath faltered, tears spilling faster.

“I was always with you… always waiting for you… always…”

The desperation in her tone made even the illusion-air pulse painfully tight.

Aiden looked at her with calm, unruffled eyes.

“I didn’t mean anything by those words,” he said.

“We were children. You took them too seriously.”

Her heart fractured loudly enough she could hear it in her skull.

A hot, metallic taste filled her mouth.

The world wobbled.

She shook her head violently, hair whipping around her face.

“No… no, Aiden, you’re lying. You wouldn’t— you wouldn’t say this. Not to me. Not after everything. Not after—”

She stepped closer, reaching for him.

But he flinched back.

As if her fingertips were fire.

“Don’t,” he said sharply.

“I have someone else in my life now.”

Lilliane froze.

Completely.

Her hand fell limply to her side.

A… someone else?

Her breathing hitched, shallow and broken.

Aiden’s tone gentled, but that only made it worse.

“Go away, Lilliane.”

Her breath stopped.

“Go away.”

His voice echoed—once, twice—

each repetition digging deeper, carving itself into her skull.

“Go away.”

“Go away.”

“Go away.”

The courtyard warped.

The colors bled.

Her vision darkened at the edges.

His voice kept echoing—calm, casual, cruelly indifferent—

“Go away.”

“Go away.”

“Go away.”

Something inside her broke with a clean, sickening crack.

Her knees buckled.

Her hands shook uncontrollably.

Her eyes went unfocused, pupils shrinking.

And then darkness swallowed her whole—

thick, suffocating, infinite.

Everything collapsed into nothing.

—

Outside the Illusion

It happened in one terrifying instant.

Lilliane’s body jerked violently.

Her breath hitched, stuttered, then broke into sharp, uneven gasps as though she were drowning on dry land.

Her knees buckled.

Her hands trembled violently at her sides.

Her eyes—still closed—twitched rapidly beneath the lids, lashes quivering like someone trying to wake from a nightmare they couldn’t escape.

Then—

A sudden crack.

A thin line of blood trickled from her nose.

Elder Hilda shot to her feet, braid whipping behind her.

“What—?!”

Several elders rose simultaneously, expressions sharpening in alarm.

Elder Huldor’s eyes widened—barely, but enough to reveal the severity.

“The illusion is… collapsing on her mind.”

The dwarven crowd fell silent instantly—stone-hard silence.

Reporters froze mid-click.

Even the magma beneath the arena seemed to pulse slower.

Luca stood so abruptly his chair scraped loudly.

“Lilliane…?”

Her body swayed—

—then convulsed again, a harsh tremor ripping through her frame.

Luca didn’t think.

Didn’t breathe.

He vaulted over the railing in one fluid motion, Sylthara and Selena both shouting after him.

“LUCA—!”

After which both of them jumped as well.

Elder Thrain rose, slamming a hand on the railing.

“Stop the trial!”

But Lilliane’s knees finally gave out.

Her body collapsed forward—

—and Luca hit the arena floor running, every instinct burning with panic.

He reached for her before she could strike the stone.

“LILLIA—!”

And the illusion—what remained of it—flared violently in her eyes like the last spark of a dying flame.

Then—

everything plunged into chaos.

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