From Master Assassin to a Random Extra: OP in a Dating Sim
Chapter 75: Cynthia (2)

Chapter 75: Cynthia (2)

The water in the chamber surged violently, converging at the center like a spinning cyclone, the current howling with unnatural force. From its core, a figure began to rise—shaped entirely of glistening, translucent water, humanoid in form yet utterly alien. Embedded in its forehead was a single radiant gem, glowing with the calm brilliance of the ocean’s surface kissed by sunlight.

"Welcome..." the entity intoned, its voice carrying across the vast crystalline chamber like a tide against stone—deep, resonant, and impossibly ancient.

"Descendant of the great Tyr Rein, I greet you."

As the gem’s glow intensified, a soft tremor echoed through the room. The towering pillars shuddered, not from fear—but reverence, as though recognizing the name.

Cynthia instinctively raised her wand, her eyes narrowing. "What is this?" she demanded, her tone calm but edged with wariness.

A strange warmth bloomed in Cynthia’s chest—like a name she’d never heard but somehow remembered. For just a second, the chamber faded, replaced by flashes of wind-torn cliffs, a hand outstretched in blinding light, and a voice that whispered her name with ancient sorrow.

"This is your calling, child of Tyr," the figure replied, lifting a flowing hand toward her. The water comprising its finger rippled gently, as if resisting the force of gravity itself.

"And this shall be your test."

Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet trembled with earth-splitting force—like an earthquake, but deeper, more deliberate. A thunderous crack reverberated through the chamber.

"Let us begin," the figure declared, before collapsing into a torrent, its body disintegrating back into the floor with a splash that echoed like a drumroll.

At once, the entire room responded.

Cracks snaked through the ground, walls, and ceiling—splitting open not with destruction, but transformation. The jagged rock faded away, peeled back like the layers of a dream unraveling. In its place unfolded a radiant, impossible oasis. Water shimmered in all directions, stretching into the horizon with no visible end. The very boundaries of the cave had vanished. What replaced it was something sacred—an ethereal realm of water and light.

The pedestal—once calmly resting within reach—slid backward as if on a hidden track. It glided effortlessly across the watery expanse, carrying with it the glowing earrings toward the farthest end of the luminous realm.

"Trial of Water, begin!" a disembodied voice echoed, and the world around her seemed to vibrate in harmony.

The surface beneath her feet defied nature—water, yet not. It shimmered like liquid but held her weight like stone. Walkable water, suspended between states.

But then a chill surged down her spine.

"Marcus?" Cynthia turned swiftly, panic beginning to claw at her. Her eyes searched the space where he had floated beside her just moments ago. Gone. No trace. Not even a ripple in the water remained to hint at his disappearance.

"Where did you go...?"

Her worry was interrupted by a pulse in the water. The surface trembled—converging into ten new forms. Silhouettes of warriors rose, each one humanoid, forged from water like the guardian before them. But these bore weapons: long, jagged tridents shimmering with cold menace.

Ten against one.

Each one stood slightly different—some broader, some lean, their tridents serrated or curved, as if forged to test every kind of response.

Cynthia bit her lip, steadying her breath. She clenched her wand tighter, her pulse syncing with the rhythm of the water beneath her. Her mind focused on one thought alone.

Complete the trial. Survive.

Mana surged within her like a tide breaking free.

Something was different.

Her body began to draw from the room itself—the very air, the flowing walls, the floor—it all fed into her like a circuit being completed. Her core flooded with energy, a reservoir that seemed bottomless. Her breath quickened—not with fear, but exhilaration.

"So this is it..." she murmured, eyes glowing faintly. "I’ve become a living conduit. The water... it’s giving me everything."

She stepped forward, voice resolute.

"Then I’ll accept it. I may not know my past—but I’ll meet it head-on."

The moment her words struck the air, the enemies moved—fluid but lethal. One lunged instantly, hurling its trident with unerring precision.

"Frost Wall!" Cynthia cried.

A column of water surged from the surface in front of her, freezing mid-arc. The trident struck the wall of ice with a sharp crack and embedded deep, harmless.

But there was no time to rest.

Another figure lunged, aiming directly for her chest, its trident poised for the kill.

Cynthia crouched low. The water beneath her shimmered and molded to her movement, embracing her feet like a second skin. With barely a thought, she glided sideways—an elegant motion like skating on glass.

’Marcus... I studied your footwork long enough. I think I’ve finally got it. Even if it’s rough... it’ll do.’

She pivoted, wand aimed.

"Winter Blast!"

A beam of arctic blue erupted from her wand. The spell struck the charging warrior square in the torso, freezing it instantly mid-lunge. Ice spread outward in jagged spikes.

One down. Nine to go.

Another charged—this time a direct stab to her forehead, fast and savage.

But Cynthia moved like never before. The surge of mana within her pushed her reflexes past their limit. She bent backward at the last second, the weapon grazing the space where her head had been just a breath earlier.

Point-blank now, she raised her wand to its midsection.

"Steam Lance!" she roared.

A stream of pressurized hot water burst forth, tunneling directly into the watery enemy. It shuddered violently as steam exploded from its core—its body bubbling and shaking until, with a gurgling screech, it detonated into a cloud of scalding vapor.

Cynthia spun away just in time, her gliding steps carrying her effortlessly beyond the blast radius.

Every movement was clean. Every cast was precise.

These weren’t spells chosen at random—they were designed. Calculated. Crafted to dismantle water-based entities piece by piece.

And that’s exactly what the trial demanded of her.

She stood tall, heart racing, wand raised.

"I don’t care where this leads. I won’t break. Not now. Not after everything we’ve survived." she said, eyes blazing. "I’ll finish this trial—and I’ll find Marcus. No matter what."