The Demon Queen's Royal Consort

The wind howled between the mountains like a dark omen.

Two days had passed since the first mountain had been swallowed by the darkness. Now, all of us watched, in depressive silence, as the second followed the same fate.

The black abyss seemed to slowly chew away everything that existed there, as if reality itself were being dissolved. Dórian, arms crossed, clenched his teeth without saying a word. Aeloria sat at the edge of the peak, eyes wide open, staring into nothingness. Dália rested her head on my shoulder, still not fully recovered, and Seraphine just closed her eyes in helpless anger.

'Every two days, a mountain is erased.'

That was the cruel logic dominating our minds. The pressure was suffocating.

We rose, like survivors on a battlefield still in progress, and walked to the edge of the peak, staring at the sixth mountain.

With a low-gravity jump, I floated toward the sixth mountain.

There was the barrier: a black, rippling membrane completely covering the entrance.

I reached out. Nothing. No heat. No pain. But also, no way through.

It was the beginning of the storm of tests. I propelled myself back to the fifth mountain's peak, and from there it was pure chaos.

**