While May and Wren ran in the direction of the next castle, thoughts of the friend they left behind crossed their minds.

  "Do you think she's going to be alright?" Wren asked, and he didn't look in the direction of May.

  The girl bit her lip and curled her fingers in her hand. She also kept her face ahead, in the direction the sixth castle was supposed to be.

  "I hope so. Karina is strong; we shouldn't underestimate her. You saw back then, between us three, she was the one who won without major injuries."

  "You're right. And you know her better than I do."

  Unlike the other castles, May and Wren were able to spot the sixth castle from afar. Especially because it had towers that reached very high. Something really strange for a castle buried underground. But besides the towers, the castle looked much the same as the ones before it.

  "And do you think the disciples get stronger from castle to castle?" Wren questioned.

  "That's a hypothesis. But I wouldn't be so sure of it. If you're defending something, you at least put a strong soldier in the first and second lines, right?"

  "Yeah, that makes sense. But we're not dealing with ordinary things here. We don't know what crosses the mind of that Master. This place could have been arranged in any order."

  "But if that's the case, we will never get it right, at least not in the way you're trying to think."

  Wren didn't answer the girl as he looked at the castle ahead. He didn't try to feel the disciples' energy, as he came to know it was impossible for them. He only hoped secretly that this one would be weaker.

  As they got closer to the castle, they reached the door and opened it. The vision inside the castle was almost too impossible to be true. Instead of the floor, there were only pillars in which a person could stand. Most of the ground at the castle was an abyss, so deep that they couldn't even see the bottom of it.

  Unlike the castles before, the place didn't have much decoration, and they couldn't find the throne where the disciple was supposed to be. From somewhere inside the place, they heard trumpets. It started in a low volume, but it rose until it became unbearable. May tried to cover her ears, but it was like the sound was piercing through her skull. She said to Wren:

  "What are we going to do?"

  And Wren, read the lips of his friends, he answered with a simple:

  "I don't know."

  The infernal noise kept going on and on until it stopped abruptly. May felt relieved, and Wren observed cautiously. In the middle of the room, a winged creature descended in a spiral in the direction of the central pillar. It stopped there, with the wings covering the main body. The only way to know it was alive was through the subtle movement of the wings, as it went up and down in the rhythm of the creature's breathing.

  When it opened the wings, a gust of wind came so intensely, it almost blew May and Wren in the direction of the abyss.

  The creature, or the man, wore a cape that covered most of his body, except for his wings, which were made of pitch black feathers. He had olive skin and would be considered handsome, if not for the scars that crossed his whole face.

  The man bowed in the direction of May and Wren, his eyes that were completely black, inspecting the duo.

  "My name is Sigmar. I'm the guardian of this castle, the house of Purson the revelatory. I suppose you're May and Wren. And that you left your friend Karina in the castle prior to this one."

  Sigmar moved one of his hands, which resembled a claw, in the air. Like a maestro who conducted a symphony. And once again, the trumpets could be heard, but this time, in harmony. Out of thin air, a path appeared that led to the door at the other side. The disciple spoke:

  "I can feel your resolution. I will impose no obstacle in the path of May while she crosses here. I accept your challenge, Wren."

  May looked astonished in the direction of her friend.

  "What did you do, Wren?"

  "Maybe it's something I decided the minute I saw how this place was. You wouldn't stand a chance fighting here. I'm the only one who can do it, you know that, you're the smart one between us." And he looked in the direction of Sigmar. "I'll fight you. But before, I want your word that May can cross this path in safety. Even for demons, when they make a promise, they're bound to it."

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  "You may rest easy, I promise your friend May can cross this path with safety. Nothing will happen to her," Sigmar answered, his voice tinted by a melodic tone.

  May looked one last time at Wren and ran in the direction of the path. She crossed it, above the abyss; it was scary. But she didn't want to show that she was afraid. So she ran across it and reached the other side. Like with Karina before, she didn't dare look back, as she knew it would make it even harder to leave her friend behind. She crossed the door, ready to reach the next castle.

  ***

  "You're different from the others," Wren spoke to Sigmar. "I can feel it. I don't know how, but you're different."

  "Every disciple is different. Some of us are more sadistic. Wilder in their nature. I would rather have fair fights. That way, my victory is purer. That way I can prove that I'm the strongest and worthiest disciple out here." Sigmar spoke, the trumpets played once again as the path disappeared.

  Wren closed his eyes for a second. He needed to win; they were halfway there, on their way to find that Master. There was no other option, nothing he could do. The hunter used the air to lift himself; he wasn't able to fly, but he could glide for a few meters. Considering the size of the castle, it was more than enough. Wren went in the direction of the disciple, and he used the wind to make his punches stronger.

  Sigmar used his wings to block the attack. In his eyes, there was an expression Wren couldn't identify. The disciple inspected the hunter before he opened his wings, a movement that threw Wren far back into the room.

  "Interesting." The disciple simply said. It seemed that he was testing his own force. "I don't fight much around here; most of the time, we disciples stay at the castles we protect."

  The disciple opened his wings wide and flew in the direction of Wren. The hunter was taken aback by the sudden movement, and he jumped and spun as he dodged the attack by a few inches.

  The disciple used the walls to get an impulse and once again flew in the direction of Wren. This time, the hunter wasn't so fast, and Sigmar hit him in the back. He punched Wren all the way to the other side of the room. The man felt all the air leaving his lungs abruptly, and he couldn't breathe. That's how strong the punch was.

  "Should I take it easy on you? I want this fight to last. I want to appreciate it. I don't know if I'll get to fight someone again."

  Wren smiled and looked in the direction of the disciple as he got up.

  "If you take it easy with me, you'll be disrespecting me. If I die here, it will be a direct result of my own weakness. As proof of my respect for you as an opponent, I'll use this." Wren moved his hands, and the disciple watched with curiosity. Out of thin air, something started to materialize. Long, thin, and black, it shone against the light. A rifle.

  "This is Pahaliah, the rifle of virtuosity. It's a good weapon, you know. But as the name suggests, it requires a lot of skill. And it has a component that always makes it hard to use. When I take it out, I must respect the opponent at my aim. My heart must be pure and clear of any doubt."

  The air buzzed with magic, and the scent of ozone filled the whole room. Sigmar launched forward in the direction of the hunter. The disciple felt it was dangerous to let his enemy do whatever he was planning to do.

  The winds condensed in front of Wren, and he felt the magical power of the rifle as it resonated with his own magical power. He liked the feeling; it was warm, and it made him feel powerful. He pressed the trigger, and it released a high-pressure wind in the direction of the disciple. Sigmar tried to dodge it, but the sheer force of the winds was enough to cut one of his wings off. He lost balance and was unable to keep in the air without one of the wings; the disciple started to fall into the abyss.

  Wren fell back as he breathed heavily. The rifle was hot in his hands. It was very tiring using the weapon. And even though it had its own magical power, it consumed a lot of the user. But Wren was happy that he had defeated the disciple quickly.

  Something shone deep into the abyss; the trumpets were louder than ever. A scream could be heard, and something flew so fast right by Wren's side that scared him. The disciple, with new wings and covered in feathers, is in front of the hunter. Sigmar stood still as he floated in mid-air.

  "I will concede that you were able to catch me off guard. A first in decades. Consider yourself lucky, you were able to do something only the Master was able to. Now that you showed me your greatest weapon, I'll grace you with the same respect, and I'll show you mine."

  The disciple plucked a single feather from his back. It was longer than the others, and silver; it shone brightly. Wren wanted to question how a feather could be a weapon, but he didn't need to. Sigmar swung the feather back and forth, and it sent cutting winds in all directions. It cut clean a piece of the pillar in which Wren stood. And the hunter noticed as it cut various pieces of stone.

  The disciple flew in the direction of Wren, the feather pointed right to the hunter's heart. But Wren used the rifle as a support to launch himself into the air and dodged the attack. The feather cut through the stone pillar, sectioning it in two. As he used the rifle, he tried to hit the disciple, but Sigmar blocked the attack with a claw and kicked Wren in the guts.

  Wren used the winds to dampen the movement and stopped in the middle of a pillar. He aimed the rifle in the direction of the disciple, ready to shoot one more time. At the same time, his enemy used the feather with a large magical power and launched a scything wind in the direction of the hunter. The concentrated rifle shot got into contact with the feather's wind. It generated electricity and shock waves through the whole castle. Wren felt the entire place trembling, his magical energy colliding with the disciple's energy.

  "I must say, Wren. For someone that green, you sure have some power. It will be a pity to kill you here. And to think of the kind of warrior you could become in your future." The disciple looked up, almost like he tried to see the skies through miles of stone and earth.

  "You know, we don't have to kill each other, right?"

  "Oh, young Wren. That's not how things work. At least not around here. I'm bound by a promise to the Master; I'm loyal to him. We must fight until the end. But I'll pray that we'll meet again in another life and that we'll have more fair fights."