Nameless Death (Neo Hargraves) POV
The sun had barely risen, but the jungle of Red Silence never changed.
It was always dim, always smothered in rust-colored fog and the silence that gave the place its name.
Beneath the canopy of gnarled trees and dying vines, space distorted with the sound of shifting air.
The agreed place was quiet, at least for now.
Nameless Death stood with his arms folded.
Zagreus waited beside him, arms behind his back and eyes closed as if listening for something distant.
Across from them, two figures emerged from the clearing’s edge.
“Asmodea,” Nameless said.
She gave a nod, her long coat dragging behind her as she walked. “We’ve completed the task, prince.”
Zagreus opened his eyes. “Good job.”
“Let’s not waste time,” Nameless said. “Are the teleporters stable?”
“They’re functional. Three set along the outer rim. Two deeper. One right in the middle, near the Sacred Gate,” Asmodea replied.
Nameless gave a brief nod. “Good. That’ll help when things start.”
Zagreus tapped a finger against his wrist lightly, a faint rune pulsing in response.
“Where’s Barabatos?” Nameless asked suddenly, as he scanned the empty space around them. “He should’ve joined us by now.”
“He said he found traces of where the ant might’ve been hiding. Searching the location took him longer than he expected, apparently. But he’ll be back soon.” Zagreus sighed.
There was a pause.
Then Zagreus added, “Still, I think we should handle Berserker before he returns. It’ll be embarrassing if the three of us can’t deal with him.”
Asmodea smiled faintly, her gaze lingering on the swirling mist surrounding the jungle’s edges.
“Embarrassment is the least of our worries. After all, weak he may be, Berserker is still part of the Supreme of Void.”
Time passed slowly after that.
Eighteen hours drifted by, punctuated by silence and preparation.
They didn’t speak much.
Each of them meditated, adjusted their focus, or rechecked the spatial arrangements surrounding the clearing.
Nameless Death remained seated on a broken root.
Then the countdown rune on his hand reached zero.
The atmosphere shifted.
The sky, already rust-colored, twisted.
Chaos elementals bled into existence, dancing in thin lines across space, making the clearing tremble.
The ground groaned. Trees bent.
Above, the red mist spiraled like a typhoon forming in slow motion.
Then it vanished.
And in the eye of that silence, a figure appeared.
A humanoid shape stood in the center of the clearing.
It looked as though it was sculpted from red mist, but unlike before, this one had ‘weight’.
No one had sensed the moment he arrived. There were no spatial distortions.
“He came with a body from somewhere,” Zagreus muttered.
Unlike before, where the bodies Berserker used were created by condensing mist or by taking over a monster, this body was different.
Nameless Death stood up.
He faced the figure across the mist-filled space.
Berserker smiled. His face, still indistinct like smoke behind a glass pane, tilted as he looked past Nameless Death.
Zagreus and the others didn’t move.
“Why are they just standing there?” Berserker asked, his voice carrying a low, almost amused tone.
“I asked them not to interfere.”
“Oh?” Berserker chuckled. “You sure about that?”
“I’m at peak of Stage 4, and you’re Stage 4, Grade 3, Level 5. I don’t need anyone’s help to defeat you.”
There was a pause.
Berserker’s grin widened.
“You really believe that matters to me?” he said, a rough edge slipping into his voice. “I’m the Supreme of Void. Jumping a few Grades is nothing to me.”
Nameless gave a slight nod, as if he didn’t care if Berserk could do that.
A vein throbbed on Berserker’s forehead.
But he didn’t lash out.
Instead, he smiled wider.
“You’ve changed,” Berserker said. “After entering the Sacred Gate… You’re not afraid anymore.”
“It was cautiousness, not fear. I was never afraid,” Nameless replied. He looked past Berserker. “Where’s the ant?”
No answer came.
Berserker shrugged, as if the question didn’t matter.
His eyes gleamed faintly in the mist.
Nameless Death clicked his tongue, knowing Berserker wouldn’t answer that easily. “Since we’re going to fight, let’s get this over with quickly.”
He stepped forward once, drawing a subtle line in the ground with his toe.
“One attack each,” he said.
“Say again?” Berserker questioned.
“We’ll attack each other once with full power. The one who causes more damage wins.”
Zagreus frowned slightly. Asmodea didn’t react.
Leonora became nervous.
She knew the strength of Supremes, and wanted to tell Nameless Death against such reckless approach, but she could only stay quiet when her spirit whale stopped her.
Berserker barked a laugh. “You serious?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not underestimating me just because I look like this, right?” Berserker asked, stretching one hand. Chaos elementals spiraled around it, thin lines of corruption eating into the mist.
“You’re weaker, so I don’t want to waste time. That’s all.”
“Fine. I’ll go first then. You don’t mind, right?” Berserker let out a savage grin.
Nameless didn’t answer. He simply stood straight, hands at his sides, gaze fixed.
The skies darkened.
Berserker drew in breath, slow and sharp.
The red mist that had faded began to rise again, faster this time.
It surged from the jungle, the trees, the soil, the very air. It churned and compressed, forming a storm of condensed elemental chaos.
The red hue deepened, threads of black and purple weaving through it as if the space itself was bleeding.
The clouds didn’t part. They bent toward him.
All of it—above, below, around—pulled inward toward his clenched fist.
Nameless didn’t move.
But faint and barely visible white threads began to materialize around him.
Then the world shook.
Berserker attacked.
A massive shockwave thundered out.
The red mist exploded.
It shattered the jungle floor, flipped whole sections of terrain, and cracked the sky above.
Chaos Elemental force surged through the space like a tidal wave, turning the air to fire and dust.
And then it cleared.
Berserker was panting, arm outstretched, a savage grin on his face.
But the grin faded as he looked ahead.
Nameless Death was still standing.
Unmoved.
Not even dust had settled on his shoulders.
He looked down at Berserker with a calm, almost bored, expression.
“Is that it?” he asked, cracking his neck with a lazy motion.
His tone wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t arrogant either. It was just honest indifference.
Berserker exhaled slowly, laughing under his breath. “You didn’t even block it.”
“There was no need to.” Nameless nodded. Then, he added. “Clench your teeth.”
“I figured you’d say something like that.” Berserker chuckled.
Nameless took a step forward, arm pulling back in a casual motion.
There was no burst of power. He didn’t use a technique, or a Concept. He didn’t bother enforcing his physical abilities with World Energy.
He simply punched.
And the upper half of Berserker’s body ceased to exist.
One moment he was there. The next, he was gone.
The impact created shockwaves far larger than Berserker’s attack.
Nameless Death looked at his fist, rotating it slowly.
“Hm,” he muttered. “That wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it’d be. Maybe it’d feel better if I could hit your real body instead.”
A voice echoed from the mist.
“Now, now. That’s just greedy.”
Berserker’s body regenerated slowly.
His torso reformed from red and black strands, pulling themselves together like weaving muscle.
“Still want to keep going?” Nameless asked.
His tone didn’t shift, but the coldness in his gaze made it clear he wasn’t playing around.
“You’re not going to win. And if you find it hard to accept defeat, I can prove you weaker by destroying this vessel completely.”
Berserker waved a hand lazily.
“No need. You’ve won this battle.”
A voice came from the side.
“Since the battle is finished, it’s time you let me do my job,” Zagreus stood up.
Asmodea’s eyes narrowed.
She raised her hand and used [Truth] to say,
“Barrier.”
The word carried power.
A dome formed instantly, transparent and colorless, but undeniable in presence.
The space around them shivered, and the jungle beyond faded into silence.
The barrier sealed the space shut.
Zagreus stepped forward.
“I’ve got questions. And you’re not going anywhere until you answer them.”
Berserker’s gaze turned to him, amused. “You’re not very smart, are you?”
Zagreus narrowed his eyes, sensing the confidence in Berserker’s tone.
“Think about it. If this place is your Shadow Trial, then what do you think the difficulty’s going to be? The Shadow Trials are harrowingly difficulty. They always include an enemy you shouldn’t be able to beat. Something impossible. A nightmare that is impossible to conquer.”
Zagreus frowned.
They were already fighting Berserker. He was strong, sure. But he was far from the level of being an impossible nightmare.
Zagreus took another step.
His thoughts spun.
…Something was off about this trial.
Who was the enemy? What exactly was difficult about this trial?
There were only two beings who could make this Shadow Trial impossibly difficulty if they become Zagreus’ enemy.
Barbatos or Nameless Death.
Barbatos was Zagreus’ subject. He would never stand against Zagreus. That left—
‘It can’t be possible.’
‘There is no way that would happen.’
Still, a doubt appeared in Zagreus’ mind.
His feet stopped on their own.
He saw Berserker grinning madly.
A sense of trepidation entered his heart.
He slowly turned towards Nameless Death.
“I’m sorry,” Nameless Death said quietly.
Zagreus understood what he meant. But he didn’t want to understand.
He didn’t want to believe that this was happening.
“What are you talking—”
“I can’t let you complete your Shadow Trial,” Nameless replied. “I’m going to ask you to let Berserker go.”
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