Chapter 6: The Bone Orchard Trial

The path after the Redwood Basin narrowed into a canyon of jagged stone, the air growing colder with every step. Ren and Yoruha walked in silence, both still shaken from the emotional battle they had just survived. Ahead, a skeletal forest of pale, barkless trees rose from the cracked ground.

Yoruha stopped.

“This is… the Bone Orchard.”

Ren swallowed. He had heard rumors of this place: an arena where the island tested not the heart, but the body—and the cost of power.

A single bell tolled in the distance, echoing through the dead trees. The sound crawled under Ren’s skin like a warning.

Then the ground split open.

Dozens of pale humanoid forms crawled out—bone constructs, faceless and brittle-looking, but unnervingly fast. Their joints cracked with every movement as they began to circle Ren and Yoruha.

Yoruha readied an arrow. “These aren’t memories. They’re guardians.”

Ren didn’t answer. His pulse was rising. Something inside him—the same power that had surged in the Basin—was stirring again, stronger, sharper.

The first bone construct lunged.

Ren moved instinctively, blade cleaving it in half. But instead of shattering, the pieces twisted and reformed, creating two smaller constructs.

“They multiply,” Yoruha hissed.

More swarmed from the ground, and soon they were surrounded.

Ren felt the pressure building—his muscles tightening, breath growing ragged, his energy clawing to break free. The Memory Wraith had warned him:

Your strength has limits. If you surpass them too often… your body will pay the price.

Another wave of constructs charged. Yoruha leaped back, firing explosive arrows, but even her precision wasn’t enough to stop the flood.

“Ren, if you have something stronger—now’s the time!”

His vision flickered. A white-hot surge thundered through him. His right arm glowed faintly, cracks of energy spreading like lightning beneath his skin.

Partial unlock.

Not full.

Not lethal.

But dangerous.

Ren roared and unleashed the power, his next swing sending a shockwave that obliterated a dozen constructs at once. The impact rattled the entire orchard.

But his arm trembled violently afterward.

Yoruha’s eyes widened. “Ren… your arm—”

“I’m fine,” he lied, gripping his sword as pain lanced through him.

The constructs wavered, their forms unstable now, almost hesitant. But as the dust settled, a slow clap echoed across the orchard.

A figure stepped from behind one of the dead trees—tall, draped in red and black robes woven from fibers that looked disturbingly organic. His mask resembled a carved skull with long fangs.

“Impressive,” the man said, voice smooth and amused. “Very impressive for a newcomer.”

Ren raised his blade. “Who are you?”

The man bowed mockingly.

“I am Kagetsu, Warden of the Bone Orchard… and the one tasked with measuring your worth.”

Yoruha’s grip tightened. “A Warden? I thought they were just myths.”

Kagetsu chuckled. “Myths don’t bleed. Though I assure you, you will soon.”

He lifted a hand, and the ground split open again—this time revealing a towering construct three times Ren’s size, forged from fused bones and glowing with eerie runes.

Ren braced himself, but his right arm spasmed violently.

He couldn’t use that power again. Not yet.

Kagetsu tilted his head. “Already strained? How fragile you are. Let’s see how long you last before this island breaks you.”

The giant construct roared.

Yoruha stepped forward. “Ren, let me—”

“No,” Ren said, forcing his trembling arm steady. “We fight together.”

And as the monstrous guardian charged, the real trial began.

---