Crownless Reincarnation: New World? Nah I'd win-Chapter 17: Martyr of Obsession.

Her face was smooth like untouched porcelain.

There were no eyes, no mouth, no nose.

Just blankness where a human expression should be.

Yet Akamir could feel her gaze on him.

A pressure settled on his chest, the kind that made every breath heavier.

The woman floated rather than walked, gliding over the cold stone floor like a phantom or ghost.

In her hand, a thin chain dragged behind her, wrapped in small bells that made no sound.

'What the hell is this place?'

Akamir raised his sword, his eyes moving around the place, trying to find something.

The woman, who had been moving, suddenly stopped.

She now stood in front of the altar, tilting her head.

The blood on the stone glistened as if still fresh, even though the scent said otherwise.

Her hand reached toward it and dipped a single finger in the crimson.

Akamir flinched as that blood began to rise in the air.

It lifted into the air like threads, weaving and winding in circles until it formed a thin halo around her faceless head.

It looked... beautiful.

[Foxdrift.]

Akamir dashed forward, aiming to end it in a single strike before that thing could complete whatever ritual it had started.

But...

Cling.

He was stopped in his tracks.

The chain had moved as if anticipating where he would come.

It wrapped around his wrist mid-step.

"Fuck."

Akamir growled, pulling his arm back as he noticed the lady move.

The bells still didn't ring.

His eyes narrowed as he yanked his hand free.

'Sound suppression... not just silence something's canceling sound itself.'

The faceless woman turned her head toward him, though there were no eyes to meet.

She raised her hand, and the floating blood threads spun.

They darted toward Akamir from all directions like snakes.

[Emperor Sword Art: First Form.]

He swung upward, cutting several threads mid-air as he rushed in.

But they reformed almost instantly this time, slower... almost taunting.

'I need to get closer.'

Akamir switched tactics as he drew in a misty breath.

[Foxdrift.]

His body blurred, leaving an afterimage as he reappeared behind her, slashing downward in a clean arc aimed for the back of her neck.

His blade stopped the same way it did with the previous priest.

It didn't hit flesh. It didn't bounce. It stopped.

Something invisible, something dense held the blade in place. His entire body tensed.

Then he saw it.

The solitude of an invisible hand grabbing his sword.

Akamir leapt back instinctively.

A moment later, the altar pulsed, sending a wave of red force outward.

Akamir brought his hand up to cover his face from the onslaught.

But...

It wasn't a shockwave; it was worse.

A wave of memory hit him like a boulder.

Akamir's vision blurred.

He stood in a small room. An attic?

A woman knelt beside a child.

Her silver hair draped over thin shoulders, covering her face.

'Is this the woman who I'm fighting?'

The child coughed violently as if sick.

The woman didn't move; her hands remained clasped, praying to someone.

"Please," the child wheezed. "I'm cold..."

Still, she didn't respond.

"I'm dying..."

Tears streamed from the child's eyes.

She finally looked at him.

And in her blank face, there was only devotion.

"Your pain is my offering."

The image shattered.

Akamir dropped to a knee, shaking off the disorientation. His fingers trembled.

"What the hell is this trial...?"

Across the room, the faceless woman now floated inches above the ground.

The blood halo had expanded like a crown now, rotating slowly over her head.

She raised both hands.

Chains erupted from the ground, each attached to rusted, old cuffs.

They aimed not for his limbs but for his memories.

Akamir felt it.

Felt the chains reaching into his mind, digging through his past.

He clenched his jaw. "No. No, you don't."

[Emperor Sword Art: First Form.]

Chi flared across his entire body as he exhaled a misty breath.

The chains moved in.

He swung it down with full force.

BOOM!!

The air itself cracked as the chain burst into a cluster of blood.

The faceless martyr flinched in that instant.

That was the first reaction she'd shown.

Akamir pushed forward.

[Foxdrift.]

He appeared behind her, this time already mid-swing.

She spun, catching the blade with her chain-wrapped hand.

Blood poured from her palm, but she didn't scream.

She didn't make a sound at all.

Then...

...her face split.

A jagged crack down the center revealed a glowing red slit where a mouth should be.

And when she screamed...

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...Akamir heard it.

Every sound that had been swallowed flooded back into the room in a single, overwhelming burst.

His ears bled.

His knees buckled.

The entire chamber trembled.

The altar cracked, leaving a mark and even breaking the stone walls.

And the martyr flew at him with chains flailing, her cracked "face" wide still leaving out a burst of sound.

Akamir gritted his teeth and held his sword.

Even though it was his first time, Akamir made up his mind to use it.

Straining his muscles, he threw his sword at the woman like a dagger.

She twisted her body, making the sword rush past her.

The sword dug into the walls as Akamir rushed toward her.

The lady tilted her head as if finding what he was doing stupid.

She lowered her guard ever so slightly as he was unarmed.

Akamir saw that tilt, mocking, questioning, almost pitying him.

And that was her mistake.

Just as he reached closer, she threw the chain at him.

Akamir ducked under the chain as he raised his hand.

The sword rushed back as he used telekinesis.

[Foxdrift]

As soon as he felt the grip of the sword, he spun into a twisting slash.

It cleanly cut through her neck, his sword leaving a trail of silvery hue.

The head rolled on the ground and Akamir took in a breath of relief.

His body screamed in pain as he felt his head throb.

'This is such a pain.'

Akamir grumbled, straightening his back.

Silence fell again.

Real silence. Not the unnatural void from before.

Akamir staggered back a step, leaning on his sword as he surveyed the room.

"Trial of the Faithless has been initiated."

The voice echoed within the place, making Akamir flinch.

"Survive the onslaught."

"SRCHHH!!!!"

The screaming voice boomed within the palace once again.

"Fuck."

Akamir grumbled as he ran out of the place without looking back.

**

"Huff... Huff..."

Akamir drew in deep breaths as he sat on the wall of the Eldergrove town.

His eyes scanned down on the trees that moved around.

Slowly, the solitude of different beings started to appear, some as tall as the trees themselves while some too small to notice.

Yet...

All their faces had the exact same features.

...They all looked like Akamir.

"SRCHHH!!!"

One of them screamed, glaring at him with its hollow eyes.

Akamir just stared down at the thing. He let his body fall on the other side of the wall.

Flipping, he landed smoothly on his feet as he walked further inside the town.

"They all are creepy." He grumbled, rubbing his sore side.

His entire body throbbed in pain and only he knew how hard it was to even move.

Akamir looked around the place, noticing how there wasn't even a single soul on the streets.

'Well, they're all afraid.'

He thought, moving toward his house.

Walking alone, his mind wandered back to the fight before.

'...Time works differently in the palace.'

Akamir guessed this much, knowing how things were going.

Even though he fought only two of those... things, an entire day had passed.

'I don't know how many trials there are.'

Akamir grumbled, rubbing his temples in frustration.

If he had to guess, it may be either five or seven.

Yet he couldn't be so sure.

Reaching his house, Akamir knocked on the door twice.

A few seconds passed before someone opened it.

Zia peeked her head from the inside before she opened the door wide.

"Where have you been?" She asked, letting him further inside the house.

"Training..."

Akamir's words trailed off as he sensed two more presences in the place.

He moved further in and found two ladies sitting on the sofa.

The normal-looking girl's eyes met with his.

"You look awful." She said, standing from her seat. "Asher."

Akamir sighed.

"What do you want, princess?"