Dawn appeared to Velathor like a messenger bearing news. No birdsong, no ringing of bells.
Just the harsh light striking the stained-glass windows and casting perfect lines across the marble.
Pedro and Bruno were already waiting for me. Pedro's eyes were ringed with dark circles from training, but a smile remained fixed on his face. Bruno, standing tall with his spear on his back, sized me up without saying a word.
We walked together, in silence, through the galleries. The corridors of Velathor opened up like gorges of metal and stone: animated frescoes on the walls, adaptive lighting that followed our footsteps, ancient statues whose eyes glowed with a subtle ember as we passed. Luxury here was not a comfort; it was a statement. Every detail served as a reminder that the Vongolds knew how to bend matter and technology to their will.
Pedro finally spoke up, his voice low, almost respectful:
— Are you sure you want to go down, specter? You could still say no, you know, hehehe.
I didn't answer. Bruno turned his head slightly.
— He won't say no, idiot, unless he's stupid. Not everyone gets the chance to receive instruction from a Class 2 Aseides, for that matter.
Even if I hadn't understood everything, Bruno was right.
The door was there.
Buried beneath the fortress, guarded by two massive statues, chains crossed over their chests. Their onyx eyes pulsed with a red glow, as if sizing up those who approached. On the front, a circular mechanism was engraved with a single name: Enduriel.
Helena was already waiting for us. She stood tall, unarmed and unescorted. A single glance from her was enough to bring us to a halt.
Pedro bowed his head slightly, his insolence subdued. Bruno pressed his fist to his chest in a sign of respect. I remained motionless. Her hazel eyes rested on me, and I felt as though they were weighing the value of every breath I took.
—You're coming down alone, she said simply.
Pedro took a step forward, his chain jingling.
— We just wanted to walk him to the door, Legend.
Helena stared at him. Not a word. Not a threat. But Pedro instinctively stepped back, a nervous laugh escaping him.
Bruno placed his heavy hand on my shoulder.— Hang in there and try not to crack.
I nodded. No useless words. No need.
Helena brushed against the circular mechanism. The stone vibrated, the statues' chains trembled, and the door opened with a deep rumble.
An icy breath escaped, as if the room had been holding its breath for centuries and was exhaling all at once.
— Come in, she said.
I crossed the threshold.
The Hall of Enduriel was not a hall. It was a world enclosed within itself.
A vast space, with no visible end. An obsidian floor, veins of red light running like scars beneath my feet. Titanic columns rose toward an invisible vault, adorned with shifting frescoes: ancient battles, figures of warriors broken and reforged.
Colossal chains hung from the imperceptible ceiling, some vibrating with a dull hum, as if they were still restraining an invisible beast. The air was heavy, thick; every breath was a struggle, as if I were already carrying an extra weight.
Helena entered behind me. The door closed. The sound faded away, swallowed by the obsidian.
Her voice echoed, calm:
— This is the Hall of Enduriel. Remember that there aren't hundreds of them in Kalion, and that those who enter leave changed… or broken. These places were created in time immemorial, each with its own system; it is an honor to be able to find one's way here.
I looked around me. Every stone, every column seemed laden with a memory too heavy for my shoulders to bear.
— Why did you choose me among all the others?" I whispered.
Helena stepped forward, crossing her arms.
— Because, quite simply, you are pitifully weak. But Simon told me that you have the eyes of a young boy filled with determination, and that determination, forged here, can become razor-sharp. The strong eventually become consumed by their own vanity. The weak who survive extreme trials like you, who have seen the world denied to them yet still managed to keep their sanity… they will never break again.
Her words were simple, cold, as if stating the obvious.
She gave a signal. The runes beneath my feet lit up.Gravity shifted. My body crashed to the ground as if I were carrying an invisible mountain.
My arms trembled, my legs nearly gave way. I gasped for air.
Helena didn't move.
— Your body must adapt to the pressure. Get up.
I groaned, my muscles screaming, my breath short. But I straightened up, millimeter by millimeter, until I finally regained my footing.
Helena nodded, emotionless.
— Good job, little one. Here, nothing is forgiving. Every day, you'll feel like you're dying. And every day, you'll have to be reborn, and let a part of your old self disappear.
I was sweating, my lungs were burning, my knees threatened to give way.
She continued, relentless:
— You don't yet know your power, and you don't know what it means to be a Vongold. You don't even know yet what Simon has awakened within you. The power you will awaken has always belonged to you, but even though it belongs to you, you must learn to control it; otherwise, it will devour you. Those born into the great Houses learn to master their Thorns as early as six years old. The most talented, even sooner.
She took a few steps, her gaze fixed on the titanic chains.
— Centuries ago, a man named Enduriel is said to have built this place and trained his disciples here. Some became top-tier Aseides, Unmatched ones among the most memorable. Others, promising but less tenacious, sank into depression and madness. The
Hall never lies. It never flatters. It keeps only those who refuse to bend.
Her gaze returned to me, sharp.
— So, Iron. Show me if you'll break.
I stood my ground, every muscle on the verge of snapping. The floor vibrated. The columns rumbled. The frescoes shifted, revealing broken, crushed, dismembered figures torn apart by invisible forces.
I wanted to fall. But I couldn't allow myself to; I, too, had the right to shine, to become special. I'd been given my chance—how could I give up now?
And Helena, with a faint smile, said only:
— Not bad. It seems Simon wasn't lying after all. That's all for today; tomorrow, we'll start over.
The first week was pure agony.Every morning, Helena would wake me up without me knowing whether it was day or night.
There was no small talk; she simply activated the training protocols.
Inside, the air felt as heavy as lead. Gravity crushed my bones. I would invariably fall to my knees before I'd even taken three steps.
— Get up, she would say.
I'd get up, fall back down, get up again, over and over. My hands bled against the cold floor, my knees split open, my ribs screamed. The Hall never let me catch my breath.
Once the exhaustion became unbearable, I'd sleep on the cold marble. The pain was so sharp that my dreams were nothing but endless falls.
Helena didn't encourage me. She didn't comfort me. She noted every detail.
— Too slow.
— Control your breathing.
— Start over.
— That's much better.
And I started over.
The First Month: The Crush
Gravity was the first enemy. Every step demanded constant effort. My bones creaked like glass about to shatter. My muscles screamed. I fell constantly, face-first onto the black marble.
— It's not over yet. Get up.
Helena always said the same thing. Her voice was never harsh, never soft. Just neutral. As if she were stating a mathematical truth.
So the cycle continued until I could stand on my damn legs.
My hands bled against the floor, my knees split open, my elbows cracked. La Salle paid no heed to my screams. She tightened her grip. Gravity doubled, then tripled. The temperature soared until I thought I was in hell, and then at times it was the freezing cold that engulfed me. She had the means to break me in a thousand ways.
By the third month, my body had finally changed.
My muscles had become sculpted, sharp as the stone of the columns. My abs looked like reliefs, carved by suffering and the repetition of effort. My scars multiplied, but they reminded me that I was no longer the man from the hospital, the man from my other mediocre existence.The Hall forgave nothing. It sent illusions against me: shadows, replicas of myself, stronger, faster. Every fight ended in my defeat. But at least I survived. My body moved exactly as I wanted it to; I could see things that had been invisible to me until now. I felt so light, so free.
And Helena observed.
— You're lasting longer, kid. Your progress is remarkable considering the shape you were in when you first started. Before, you'd collapse in a matter of seconds. Now you're lasting much longer.
I didn't answer. I knew the only answer was to keep pushing.
That evening, in the silence, I thought about Pedro and Bruno. About their absence. Pedro would have come out with one of his absurd remarks, even in the face of adversity. Bruno would have stood tall, silent but present. I missed them in a way. More than I wanted to admit. It was ironically strange: I barely knew them, but in this crushing solitude, I discovered that I cared for them more than I had let on.
The third month: the awakening
That day, the Hall wanted to crush me.
The gravity increased another notch. My knees hit the stone this time, my hands pressed against the ground. My breath was nothing more than a rattle. Sweat poured down, my muscles screamed, my bones vibrated as if they were about to break, but I managed to hold on; I had become stronger. The abominations sent against me gave me no respite. I tried to dodge, to defend, to fight, but still with difficulty. A blow from a replica of an absurd monster sent me flying.
I ended up on the ground.
I heard Helena. Her voice, calm, sharp.
— Be faster, use all your resources, try to tap into your Iron Thorn.
— I've been training like crazy for months, but every time I feel like I'm making progress, this damn room shows me that my efforts are meaningless. Can I really get stronger by doing this?
— You keep asking yourself the same question… yet you should start to feel it. Remember that your future opponents won't wait for you to get stronger before crushing you.
I clenched my teeth; my body was shaking, refusing to give in. Then something gave way, not in my bones, but deeper. In what Simon had awakened in me that fateful day.
A red and gold fissure opened up before me.
My Thorn had finally revealed itself.
I felt it; it was beating in time with my heart, something inside it wanting to break free.From the fissure, a blade sprang forth.
Raw, blazing, its edges sharp, rimmed with incandescent flames. The metal wasn't forged: it was a solidified tear, as if the void itself had taken shape, ablaze.
It was magnificent. I could feel the heat licking at my skin, gnawing at my arm. But I didn't let go.
I raised it, staggering.
Helena was watching me. No surprise, but for a brief moment, I saw a faint smile flicker across her face.
— Congratulations, she said. You've finally freed your Thorn.
I was trembling. My fingers were bleeding. The blade vibrated, unstable, ready to dissolve.
—Do it again, she said.
Her voice gave me no respite.
The fracture closed. The blade vanished with it. I was drained, on the verge of collapsing.
But her eyes were there, cold, demanding.
So I started over until I could reproduce that miracle.
The sixth month: rebirth
I was no longer the same person.
Every muscle in my body had been sculpted by pain. My shoulders, my arms, my chest: my body now resembled one of those carved statues, shaped by pain and sorrow, cut from marble and sweat. My scars were no longer wounds: they had become my signatures.
My eyes now shone effortlessly. They were red, like two living flames. Sometimes I caught my reflection in the stone, and I had trouble recognizing the boy I used to be.
The day came when Helena finally opened the door.
The light from the sky struck me like a revelation. After six months in the Hall, the air felt good; I had the feeling I could do anything, accomplish anything.
Pedro and Bruno were waiting for me, just as promised.
Pedro gasped in surprise; his chain slipped from his fingers. Then he laughed, but there was nothing mocking about his laugh.
— Damn… Iron?! We should've done a before-and-after to post on social media. We would've gotten a million views, for sure! Hahaha… but look at yourself!! Unbelievable!
Bruno stared at me for a long time, then placed his heavy hand on my shoulder.— Looks like you pulled it off in the end.
— You mean I went through hell. But yeah, I did it, hehehe.
I looked at them both. My body has changed. My gaze too. But the same for them, I could now feel their aura and see that they had not lost time during my training. And in this world of cruelty and pain, I finally had my first victory.
I was no longer a corpse.
I was no longer a shadow.
I was iron vongold.
And my ascension was just beginning.