Two days later, the group came upon a village almost swallowed by the forest, its ruins a clear sign of battles fought and lives lost.

The crumbling buildings bore the scars of some forgotten war, with broken weapons strewn among the remains and walls painted with faded sigils of old alliances.

Not a sound disturbed the eerie silence that blanketed the village.

"Abandoned," Ava remarked, her voice hushed. "Completely empty."

"This doesn't look good," Lilith said.

"What is this place?" Adrian asked, his gaze sweeping over the ruined buildings.

Medea paused, a distant look in her eyes. "This... this is a result of envy and hatred. Of jealousy and fear. This village had been under the influence of Eris, the goddess of discord and strife."

"How do you know this, Medea?" Selene asked.

"Well... we all know our sister. This isn't the first time I've come across something like this. In fact, this isn't even the worst."

"Worst?"

"You don't wanna know, trust me."

"So, what happened here?"

"Well, they just need to be envious of each other and when they can't take it, they fight and well... here we are."

They went deeper into the village, their footsteps echoing eerily through the empty streets.

Not a sound disturbed the eerie silence that blanketed the village.

"We're here," Adrian announced, gazing past the ruins to a towering structure at the village's heart.

"The Temple of Discord," Abyss announced.

"I can't believe we're here," Selene muttered, her expression a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

"I'm going in," Adrian announced as they got to the entrance.

The goddesses moved nearer, looking serious as they stared at the large entrance of the temple. Selene reached for Adrian's arm, her grip firm. "You're going in alone?"

Adrian nodded. "Only I can."

Ava snorted, crossing her arms with a smirk. "Yeah, we know, but if you don't come out, don't expect us to go in after you. I don't exactly feel like getting trapped in some magical deathtrap."

Selene placed a gentle hand on Adrian's shoulder. "Be careful. There's a lot of darkness in that place."

"Be careful," Lilith and Medea echoed together.

He offered a reassuring nod. "I'll be back soon." He stepped toward the temple, feeling the pull of Eris's influence strengthening with each step, the weight of her chaotic energy like a shadow stretching over him.

Inside, the air was thick, every footstep echoing in a silence that felt alive. The flickering light from the torch moved over the stone walls, creating strange shadows that appeared to trail behind him.

Adrian's breath was steady, but his senses were heightened, aware that each corner held an unseen threat.

"Alright, Eris," he murmured under his breath, squaring his shoulders as he pushed deeper into the temple's shadowy hallways. "Let's see what kind of tests you've set up for me."

His voice seemed to trigger something in the walls. Whispers floated through the air, mocking laughter and venomous taunts as he moved forward. "You can't succeed," a voice sneered from somewhere behind him. "You're no hero."

"Is this really worth it?" one voice mocked, its tone soft and derisive. "You know, even your allies doubt you."

"Would they follow if they truly knew you?" another hissed.

Adrian's jaw tightened as he kept walking. He was no stranger to the whispers of doubt and fear, but hearing them coming from Eris's temple only strengthened his resolve.

He had a mission, and nothing would stop him from completing it.

As he walked, the shadows began to shift and take shape, forming twisted figures that seemed to lurk in every corner. He caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes in the darkness, heard the sound of claws scraping against stone, and the faint scent of decay hung in the air, a reminder that danger lay just beyond his reach.

He passed through the narrow corridor, the whispers building until they crescendoed into a silent tension as he reached a grand chamber.

The room was vast, with golden sand swirling across the floor in thick, restless currents that seemed alive. Statues of famous heroes he knew from stories of bravery and sacrifice lined the edge of the chamber.

They appeared to observe him, their serious faces proud and aware, each one holding a slight glow that created dancing shadows on the walls. Each statue bore the likeness of someone who had achieved greatness, who was admired and respected.

As Adrian stepped forward, the swirling sands shifted, rising up to form illusions that twisted into familiar faces, images of people he had respected, admired, and envied.

The first illusion solidified into Shawn, his old mentor, the veteran knight who had taught him everything about swordsmanship in his youth.

But this version of Shawn wore a twisted, mocking smile, the pride Adrian remembered now turned to scorn.

"Adrian," the illusion sneered coldly. "You were always the one with 'great potential,' weren't you? But what did it lead to? Nowhere."

Adrian's jaw tightened, but he kept silent, refusing to take the bait. He stepped forward, trying to pass by, but the illusion of Shawn moved with him, blocking his way, mirroring his steps.

"You could've been someone by now," Shawn continued in a sharp, taunting tone. "Honored, respected, even feared. But instead, you're here, wasting all that talent on a fool's errand."

Just as Adrian tried to brush past, another figure rose beside Shawn—this time, the familiar yet distant face of his father.

Adrian froze.

His father's eyes, sharp and calculating, regarded him with a disapproval that cut deeper than any blade. "And you think those goddesses care about you?" the illusion hissed. "They're using you, Adrian. They'll discard you when you're no longer of use."

"Is that so?" Adrian forced himself to reply, his voice steady despite the rush of anger and hurt the illusion's words brought. "And what would you have me do? Abandon my mission, chase after empty admiration? That's not the life I want."

His father's image scoffed, looking him up and down with contempt. "But it's the life you deserve. Glory, respect, recognition. If you gave up this… pointless journey, all that could be yours."

Adrian scoffed right back. "So, empty praise? No thanks."

The sand shifted again, this time rising into the form of Cyrus, a fellow knight and rival from Adrian's early days. Cyrus's smirk was as infuriating as ever, his voice dripping with mockery.

"Oh, I remember you," he sneered. "Always thought you were better than me, didn't you, Adrian? But where has that led you?"

Adrian clenched his fists, meeting the illusion's gaze. "I never thought I was better. That was always your problem."

"Of course," the illusion rolled its eyes, smirking. "Still as self-righteous as ever. Tell me, Adrian—when you fail, and you will fail, what then? Will they still look at you with respect?"

As Adrian took another step, frustration simmering, he felt the sand under his boots begin to shift, giving slightly. He halted, glancing down to find his feet sinking, the sand swirling around his ankles.

It wasn't just sand—it was quicksand, slowly pulling him in. Panic sparked in his chest.

"Damn it…" he muttered, struggling to lift his legs, but the more he fought, the tighter the sand seemed to grip him.

Another form rose before him, shifting into his own younger self—a cockier, reckless version of himself from long ago, with that smirk Adrian now found all too arrogant.

"Remember me?" his younger self sneered, arrogance brimming in his eyes. "The guy who had his own dreams, his own desires. And now look at you—burdened by everyone else's problems."

Adrian's frustration flared as he met his younger self's gaze, feeling the sand creeping up to his knees. "That boy didn't understand what it meant to fight for something greater."

The illusion laughed, a grating sound that echoed off the temple walls. "Oh, really? So, what have you found instead? A life of misery, clinging to some 'greater good' that will leave you alone and forgotten."

Adrian struggled harder, but the sand only tightened, now pulling past his knees. Cold sweat pricked his brow, the panic rising as he felt himself slowly being swallowed. He was alone in this place—no one was coming to help him.

He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath to clear his mind.

When he opened them, his gaze was fierce. "I'd rather walk a hard path with purpose than an easy one for praise."

The illusions faltered, each one flickering, their faces twisting as though his words had struck at something deep. His younger self's smirk faded, replaced by uncertainty.

But before Adrian could breathe in relief, a voice like silk, smooth and mocking, drifted through the chamber, a whisper that seemed to coil around his very thoughts.

"If purpose is truly all you seek, Adrian…" the voice echoed, chilling and seductive, "why do you hesitate? Perhaps some part of you… longs for more?"

He instantly recognized the voice even without seeing the source.

It was Eris.

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