UNMEI: Pantheon's Game-Chapter 103: Judgement Of Souls

Dune sat cross-legged on the floor of his room, his breath slow and steady. His mind cleared as he focused, reaching inward toward the energy that flowed through him.

A faint glow shimmered before his eyes, forming words in the air.

[ Name: Dune ] freewebnσvel.cøm

[ Title: ??? ]

[ Neba: Green: 5% | Ability: Nebastep 8% ]

[ Zeten: Green | Ability: ??? ]

[ Unknown: ??? ]

[ Artefacts: Soulless Voice ]

Dune exhaled sharply.

That again...

The first time he had discovered this strange status screen was in trials. But then Cadogan taught him how to access it. It wasn't easy at first, he had to concentrate, to force his mind to pull the information from his own existence. It took time, but eventually, he learned how to properly check his Neba stats.

Yet, no matter how much he stared at it, there was something unsettling about the Unknown section. His eyes lingered on it.

What does it mean?

His Neba and Zeten were clear enough. Nebastep, his movement ability was growing stronger, though at only 8%, it was far from complete. But his Zeten? It remained unreadable, a mystery even to him.

And then there was that [ Unknown. ]

Is it something hidden inside me? Something I haven't awakened yet? Or... something I don't want to know?

He sighed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts swirled, but no answers came. Whatever it was, he knew one thing for sure, he would have to find out.

[ Next day: Ordeal of Soul ]

The Bloodrose Arena was nothing short of breathtaking.

A colossal coliseum, carved from ancient stone and reinforced with powerful enchantments, it towered over the city like a monument to strength. Rows upon rows of seats stretched high into the sky, filled with tens of thousands of spectators.

Their voices merged into a chaotic storm of cheers and whispers, anticipation thick in the air. Massive banners of Bloodrose Academy, deep crimson with intricate black embroidery,

hung from the walls, fluttering slightly under the weight of the event.

At the center of the vast arena stood Dune, Ned, Atlas and other participants, clad in dark red and black outfits, tailored specifically for this test. The attire, provided by Bloodrose Academy, was sleek yet durable, crafted to represent both prestige and resilience.

The deep red symbolized the academy's legacy, while the black stood for the unknown challenges that awaited them.

Dune exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the moment press down on him.

Above them, in the Grand Observation Balcony, sat eight figures, judges whose decisions could shape their futures.

King Aramir sat at the center, his dark red cloak draped over his broad shoulders, a symbol of his authority over the continent. His gaze was unreadable, his presence alone commanding the respect of all who looked upon him.

Beside him was Ramires, the director of Bloodrose Academy. A man of intellect and precision, his sharp eyes scanned the competitors with a cold, calculating focus.

To the right sat Damion, his expression as calm and composed as ever, the ever-present glint of amusement in his red eyes.

And then there was Magma, his scowl as deep as ever, arms crossed, displeasure practically radiating off him.

But Dune's focus shifted when he spotted someone new.

Richard Amellia.

The man's name carried significance, not just in Bloodrose, but far beyond. His very presence here meant something. It confirmed that this test wasn't just another test. It was bigger than that.

Dune clenched his fists. The weight of the moment settled on his shoulders, but there was no fear in his heart. He was ready.

The air in Bloodrose Arena shifted.

A hush fell over the crowd as Ramires stepped forward, his dark red cloak billowing behind him. And then, he rose.

With a single step, he flew into the center of the arena, hovering above the vast coliseum. His deep, commanding voice echoed across the thousands of spectators, reverberating through stone and soul alike.

"This... is the most important test of Bloodrose Academy."

His gaze swept over the assembled students below.

"Strength, intelligence, and skill are all meaningless if your soul is weak. No matter how powerful one becomes, their very essence determines their fate. And today, you will face the truth of your existence."

His piercing eyes locked onto the competitors.

"Some of you will rise. Some of you will fall. But let me make one thing clear, you are not simply fighting for a place in Bloodrose. You are standing at the precipice of your own potential."

Then his voice grew heavier, almost ominous.

"I wish you luck... because you will need it."

With those final words, he slowly descended back to his seat. And then, she arrived.

A woman draped in dark silver robes stepped into the center of the arena. She was beautiful, Her presence was imposing, yet serene, like the calm before a storm. Without a word, she lowered herself to one knee, placing her hand against the cold stone floor.

Dune could feel it as something shifted.

A deep hum resonated through the arena, and behind him, the murmurs of students began.

"Is that the Soul's Mirror?" one whispered.

"They say she's one of the strongest in Sanatria..."

"Her abilities target the soul itself... one of the rarest and deadliest types of neba power in existence!"

Dune narrowed his eyes. He had never heard of her, but he could tell, she was dangerous.

From the very earth itself, hundreds of massive gates erupted, stretching high into the sky. Each gate was translucent, glowing with a mystical energy, allowing those who looked upon them to see straight through. They stood in a long, unbroken line, each spaced exactly five meters apart.

It was almost hypnotizing. Then, Ramires spoke.

"Gate of Souls!"

His voice was sharp, authoritative.

"This is the test that will determine your fate.

Each gate represents 1% of your potential. The further you walk, the stronger your soul is. If you can cross 70 gates, you are guaranteed a place in Bloodrose, no matter your past failures. This test alone can change everything.

Because at the end of the day... some are simply born lucky. And others, aren't."

Dune glanced at Ned and Atlas, and they looked back at him. No words were needed.

Ramires raised his hand.

"Begin!"

The test had officially started.