Chapter 3: Welcome to the Fate Trial
The blood Dexter saw Enzo spill weighed heavily on him. He couldn't remain idle even if he wanted to. Dexter didn't want to face that monstrosity—he didn't want to die—attempted the transmigration spell again. He tried new formats meditation, and occultism, hoping it would send him back to his own world—but nothing happened. It didn't work.
He hesitated and even considered running away, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it—the thought of leaving Daylan's family alone with the debt only deepened his guilt. With no other choice, he began questioning others about their trials, listening intently and summarizing their experiences to better grasp the nature of the tests—and to learn more about the world around him.
Through his investigation, Dexter realized that the trials truly lived up to their name. They weren't random at all—they were drawn from the very soul of each person, which was what made every trial uniquely personal.
The Luck Trial was based on a person's fortune, the Worth Trial on their inherent value—but when it came to the Fate Trial, he found no one to question. Most people avoided it entirely, and those who attempted it... only a few came back.
The exact events within each trial weren't something he could prepare for or outsmart. Still, he picked up a hint—most of the other trials seemed to center around themes like survival, victory, patience, and determination.
Yet, he had no idea if the Fate Trial would follow the same path... or something far more terrifying.
Honor City was divided into four districts: East, South, West, and North. The southern district—where Daylan's family lived—was less populated than the others, so his investigation into the trials yielded only brief information rather than a solid theory.
The days slipped by before he knew it. Despite his limited knowledge, he had no choice—he had to succeed in the trial. He ge was excited about the fantasy alright, but couldn't risk ending up like Enzo's victims, and more importantly, he had to protect his pitiful family from the same fate.
Dexter and Medora stood before Daylan's family, who wept as they said their goodbyes. Their presence overwhelmed him—he lacked the emotional strength to face it with ease. If they had been his own family, he knew he couldn't have left them behind. He kept blurting out reassurances, repeating again and again that he would be fine—that he would make it through.
Before long, Medora gestured for them to head to the church for his trial. A carriage stood nearby, waiting patiently for them to climb in.
Dexter said his final goodbyes and stepped into the carriage with Medora. The moment he sat down, a wave of fear washed over him. He fidgeted with his fingers, and his leg shook uncontrollably. The weight of the trial loomed over him.