The Last Paragon in the Apocalypse

Pickle Berry’s eyes widened. “This… this one judges everything they’ve done until now.”

Thanks to Jinx’s breakneck speed, she kept the Flame judge occupied while Linx started studying their opponent to determine what was causing it to become much stronger after every clash.

Five minutes later, she figured something out.

“It’s reading and feeding on our guilt,” Linx said as she landed beside her sister. “Every time I doubt myself, the flames get hotter.”

“I feel it too,” Jinx whispered. “It’s feeding my fear…”

The Flame Judge floated back, still silent. Flames burned at its feet, spreading across the sky. It was as if the twins figuring it out wasn’t something it was worried about.

Linx closed her eyes.

She took a deep breath. She knew what had to be done, for she understood what would have to go into defeating this beast of a person.

There are two ways of defeating this tribulation. One being, they must endure until there is no more guilt to feed on. The moment the Flame Judge has devoured all forms of guilt, it will be able to kill it.

But it’s just too long for them. Who knows how many regrets they have in their life? They may be beasts, but they aren’t monsters. So they most definitely have guilt.

This was why Linx chose the second option.

“Then we face it together. Not as perfect warriors. Not as flawless sisters. But as who we are—imperfect, but united.”

Jinx looked at her.

Then she smiled.

The concept of yin and yang doesn’t mean they must be perfect. It just requires them to be united, in sync with each other, and perhaps not falter in the face of danger.

The moment this understanding came in, they knew what had to be done.

They clasped hands.

The fire surged again. The Flame Judge raised its spear high. A storm of fireballs formed above it, ready to fall.

But the sisters didn’t flinch.

They let go. They choose to fall into their guilt and accept it as a part of them. The concept of being guilt-free can come in two ways.

Washing all forms of guilt from their lives or becoming one with it. The twins choose to become one with it, and as such, their yin-yang started to sync based on their emotions.

Linx raised her sword.

Jinx raised her daggers.

Together, they channeled their energy, not against the Flame Judge, but into themselves.

Their bodies began to glow—Linx with a calm white light, and Jinx with a flickering shadow.

The lights swirled around them—yin and yang forming the Perfect balance.

The fireballs dropped, bringing a scorching heat with them. Klaus and the ladies on the ground narrowed their eyes at such a powerful attack coming from the Flame Judge.

Linx stepped forward and slashed the air with her sword. A wave of pure yang energy shot up, freezing half the fireballs mid-air.

Jinx spun through the rest, her daggers cutting trails through space, redirecting the flames away.

The Flame Judge moved again, as fast as lightning.

But it stopped just when it was getting closer to the ladies. This wasn’t because it wanted to attack from that distance. It was more like it saw something that froze it in its steps.

Between the sisters, a symbol appeared in the air.

Half black. Half white. A circle with two dots.

The Yin-Yang Seal. The seal spun, and a beam of light shot out, travelling as fast as the eye could handle. Before the flame judge could see what was happening, it pierced its forehead.

The Flame Judge trembled.

Its flames flickered.

And then, like a candle in the wind, it vanished. Just like that, the third form of the Tribulation was cleared in a rather anticlimactic way.

The sky cooled.

The red clouds faded to gray.

Silence.

Linx and Jinx sighed in their hearts, knowing they were close to failing the third tribulation, which, in any case, meant death for them, for the only way to fail was to die.

“I keep liking them more as the seconds pass,” Pickle Berry said, watching Linx and Jinx stand in the air, gazing at the clouds as they waited for the fourth tribulation.

“Spill it,” Klaus said, knowing Pickle Berry most definitely had something she was hiding. Her fascination with Linx and Jinx clearly had some hidden meaning.

“You will know after the tribulation. For now, watch and observe all seven forms of the Yin-Yang tribulation to the best of your abilities.

Trust me, you will need it one day.” Pickle Berry, instead of spilling the beans, managed to take Klaus’s mind off what he wanted to know. Of course, Klaus knew she was just being cheeky.

However, he didn’t have the time to focus on her. His mind was running in overdrive, looking for the outlier where he would be forced to make his move.

Paragon could only watch for now.

The clouds churned again as the fourth tribulation appeared. The moment the fourth form of tribulation emerged, all sound inside the Insect Domain was sucked out.

The sky turned dark again.

Not storm-dark.

Not fire-dark.

But deep, shadowy, dark—like a cave where light couldn’t even dare to penetrate, the eeriness was palpable.

The air was thick, breathing felt harder, and the world felt farther away. Even sound grew quiet, muffled under an invisible blanket.

Klaus and the other onlookers became puzzled, feeling their voices blocked by an invisible force. Although they weren’t the ones taking on the tribulation, they seemed to be affected by it.

The sky turned darker. The blanket of pure darkness covered the three moons in the sky, blocking all light coming from them.

Then, the stars disappeared.

One by one, they blinked out until nothing was left above but a black sky with no end.

From the heart of this darkness, something crawled out.

It had no legs. No arms. Just a body that slithered and writhed like a ribbon made of living shadow.

Eyes opened across its skin—small, large, sideways, upside-down—constantly blinking, watching everything.

It didn’t roar. It whispered—words filled with dread.

Linx and Jinx heard it at the same time.

“You are alone. No one will come. No one will save you.”

“The fourth form,” Pickle Berry said, wearing a serious expression, “The Whispering Dread.”

Klaus frowned.

The name sounded eerily familiar; however, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall where this feeling was coming from.