The Author Reincarnated As An Extra-Chapter 59: • Sixth Trial

A distance away from the Fifth Trial. Before the River of Tears, the Gigantic Ether Forest and the Labyrinth of Mirrors, a Corridor that held a Second Trial buzzed with energy in the air as a portal appeared.

Out of the portal, three more participants stepped into the Corridor. They were not particularly powerful looking ones. Not at all.

They appeared scrappy, shaken and wide-eyed. Their limbs were quivering as their eyes darted around the place they had just entered.

These were a few of the last participants to advance from the First Trial, using all their courage to defeat what had been handed to them.

Finally, they had made it here.

But seeing this place — the red sky, the withered leaves, the black earth and chasm not too far in the distance, their fear increased.

One of them narrowed their eyes at a movement close to the chasm where steam was rising up.

His eyes dilated. "It’s a monster!" he mumble-cried, stepping backwards.

Others followed his gaze, also stepping backwards at the sight of the figure.

It suddenly seemed to grow taller, but they realized it had only risen to his feet. Then slowly, it turned around.

"A monster?" the figure said with a piercing feminine voice. "How insulting."

"Eh?"

"Huh?"

The other, a taller guy with a nonsense sword gasped. "A girl."

She had red hair, wild green eyes and an armor that was most certainly made and reserved for nobles. In her hand, they saw her wielding what seemed to be a golden lock watch, the magical aura from it slowly fading away.

She narrowed her eyes at them. "What are you waiting for? You want to survive this Trial, don’t you?"

"Eh?" They all recoiled, then nodded approvingly.

The girl turned around determinedly. "Then start cutting down trees so we can make a bridge. You low-Marked fools are exactly what I need now to defeat this Trial."

They all instantly stomped in attention and hurried to the trees.

One of them — the tall one — stopped and turned to her. "Miss? What do we refer to you as?"

The girl looked at him with a dark gaze. "Miss, huh? You were almost close."

She closed her eyes and opened it. "My name is Mist of the Fire Clan."

....

The boy’s breath hitched. ’A noble?’

"Now hurry up," she turned to the chasm with a resolute gaze. "There is someone I must catch up to."

☆ ☆ ☆

The Fifth Trial was over and so the Sixth awaited them.

Deremiah stepped forward as the shimmer of the portal faded behind them, leaving only the three of them in the familiar, vast, blinding whiteness.

His boots made no sound against the intangible ground, as though they stood on nothing at all.

Concerned at first, he turned to his left. Elora. Cestrel. They were still with him. Thankfully the Gates hadn’t separated them irrespective of them entering together. That was good.

The Gates had an annoying habit of scattering groups, no matter how careful they were.

After a short while, just as before, the whiteness began to ripple.

Like ink spilling into water, tendrils of darkness spread outward, twisting and bleeding into the empty expanse.

It was subtle at first, slow and creeping, but then the silence was completely destroyed by a single, deafening crack that tore through the air.

The whiteness shattered all at once.

It didn’t fade away like usual, rather, it broke. Pieces of it fractured, falling like shards of glass into an abyss below. The nothingness revealed itself, swirling into existence like something ancient awakening.

The setting of the Sixth Trial was being created.

Colors — ashen gray, sickly green, deep rust — seeped through the whiteness, forming a new reality around them.

And then, the Corridor revealed itself.

Cestrel gasped. Elora narrowed her eyes. Deremiah only watched with a cold expression, unsure whether it was right to admire the beauty of his own creations brought to life.

The setting was a canyon. One of immeasurable depth stretched before them, with pencil head cliffs cutting into the horizon.

The air could not be ignored. They all smelled it.

It was a terribly sick smell, thick with a mist that coiled and pulsed as though it were alive. It clung to the rocks like a hungry parasite, curling around the broken landscape.

The ground beneath them was a cracked plateau, barely stable, jutting out over the edge of the chasm.

But there were more below them:

Countless bridges — some whole, most collapsed — crisscrossed the canyon, remnants of some forgotten path. But whatever civilization had built them was long gone, devoured by time and the abyssal hunger of this place.

Elora inhaled sharply beside him, immediately pressing a hand to her nose. "By Dawn. The air—" She pulled her coat tighter, as if it would protect her from the unnatural chill creeping through the mist.

"Repugnant," Deremiah said.

Cestrel didn’t say anything, but her turquoise colored eyes narrowed, her posture tense. She had her hands ready to summon her cerulean abilities, instincts screaming at her that something was wrong.

Personally, Deremiah knew what they were seeing. What they were feeling.

This Trial was the Withered Abyss. A place tainted by a past that did not forgive trespassers.

He’d had so much fun creating this Trial, adding the dark elements that had tortured many characters.

Who knew he was going to end up here, mhm?

’Fuck karma.’

He remembered Zenith’s battle here. The one on a crumbling bridge, the sound of his bones snapping beneath weight that should not exist, the feeling of almost dying, the first betrayal.

Being the one who had written all of it, it somehow felt like he had been here before.

But like Zenith had, could they survive the Withered Abyss?

Would they?

The mist shifted. It didn’t only move with the wind. Clearly it had a mind of its own as it pulsed, reacting, breathing.

They weren’t alone.

Seeing the mist move and the sound of the wind, Deremiah remembered the goal of this Trial.

He exhaled and turned to them. "Listen carefully. This is the Withered Abyss, and it’s exactly what it looks like — a death trap."

His voice was calm, ignoring Elora’s questioning gaze. "From what I’ve gathered, the air is toxic, the mist will drain your stamina. It gets worse the longer you stay. If you stop moving, you die."

Elora’s frown deepened. She had two choices; question him on how he knew this or just listen since he seemed to always be right. "Nothing to fear. Our life has always been the cost in all the Trials."

Cestrel glanced at the two of them but remained silent, waiting.

The loud dong sound came. The Leaderboard appeared, two names were removed, Elora was up one point again. Deremiah was up three.

Then came the Inquisitor’s voice.

[Welcome, participants to the Sixth Trial: The Withered Abyss]

[A canyon of destruction is the expanse beneath your feet. The air harbors elements that will slowly corrupt you to a mindless death the longer you stay. Hesitation is detrimental. Time is of the essence. The canyon is a graveyard to many, even in death, you shall have company]

Everyone creased their brows. That was a chilling welcome.

The Inquisitor continued.

[Scattered throughout this abyss are Ancient Relics: artefacts infused with the energy of this place. Can they help you escape or are they only here to waste your time?]

[The canyon wants your soul to join the others? Why give you resources to prevent that?]

[However, if you still wish to chase after these artefacts, then know that you summon the Abyssal beasts at the same time.]

Elora gave Deremiah a sharp look. "The Abyssal Beasts?"

He met her gaze. "Must be the Paragons that roam this place."

A distant sound echoed through the canyon. Not a growl. Not a scream. Something more bone-chilling: a hollow clicking, rhythmic and deliberate.

[Good luck, participants.]

[And once again... Welcome to the Sixth Trial]

...

Deremiah and the girls turned around to where the sound was coming from, staring with beating hearts.

He knew that the Withered Abyss was home to creatures that thrived in its suffocating, decayed wasteland.

Because the mist acted as a fog and a lure, it masked movements. It swallowed sounds. It allowed the predators here to hunt without being seen.

Paragon beasts thrived in this.

Grimscale Dreadmaws – Colossal, blind reptiles that burrow through the canyon walls. They sense vibrations. The moment someone moves too fast, too recklessly, the earth beneath them will shatter, and the Dreadmaw will devour them whole.

Marrow Fiends – Skeletal, half-rotted horrors. They don’t die. Shatter them, and they will rise again. The only way to stop them is to break their core, buried deep within their rib cages.

Umbral Howlers – The most terrifying. Beasts that exist only when unseen. The moment someone looks at them, they vanish. But the second your eyes leave them, they strike.

But even if they managed to defeat all those horrible monsters, they would still have the Trial Boss waiting for them.

The Tyrant Centipede. The thing that ruled this place.

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