A Training Ground

As the relentless assault from the statue escalated, Amukelo found himself being steadily overwhelmed. His movements, though swift and practiced, were ultimately insufficient against the statue's enhanced ferocity. His friends, witnessing his struggle, were poised to intervene, their concern evident in their tense expressions and ready stances.

However, just as they were about to step forward, the ghost intervened with a chuckle, "Okay, okay. The fun is over." His voice carried a lightness that starkly contrasted with the intensity of the moment. But then his tone shifted to one of blunt criticism, "But I must admit to you... Damn, you're weak. You are supposed to be a chosen one or something, by wearing that armor. For the love of God, by what luck did you get that armor?"

The group was taken aback by the ghost's harsh words. Amukelo, widely regarded as one of the strongest among them, if not the strongest, was suddenly being called into question. The ghost continued unabated, "You must get stronger. With your current strength, you can't even be considered as a challenge to my puppy. The weakest devil would eat you for breakfast. Not even mentioning Satan. No one can match him... well, Lucifer would disagree."

A heavy silence fell over the group as they processed the spirit's assessment. Eliss broke the silence with a hesitant question, "Is he really that bad?" Her voice was tinged with concern not only for Amukelo but for herself, as at the current moment she was way weaker than him.

The ghost replied with a scoff, "Hell yeah, he wouldn't even be able to go to the dungeon where the fourth artifact is stored. If the devils were released, then it would be over for him. Not that someone who wants to release Satan would want to do that, as this would weaken him when he is released."

Amukelo, despite the sting of the ghost's words, responded with unwavering determination, his voice firm and resolute, "So what should I do?" His question cut through the tension, a clear indication of his readiness to confront whatever challenges necessary to prove himself worthy.

The ghost appeared to ponder this for a moment, his ethereal form flickering like a candle in the wind. Finally, he answered with an obvious tone, "Hmm... Get stronger, duh." 

Amukelo was momentarily at a loss for words. Wasn't that precisely what he had been striving to achieve all along? The simplicity of the ghost's advice was very frustrating.

Seemingly taking pity—or perhaps just deciding to be more helpful—the ghost then declared, "Okay, I've decided I will help you. Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm so generous." His words dripped with a sardonic wit that made it difficult for Amukelo to feel fully grateful.

Erohan interjected into the ghost's speech, reminding everyone of the urgency of their mission. "We don't have time; we need to head off soon to arrive before Valarian does."

The ghost, who had thus far oscillated between humor and indifference, now adopted a tone of stern seriousness. "What you don't have time for is being so weak," he retorted sharply. "If you were to face any devil now, there would be nothing left of you afterwards." The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone present.

Breaking the silence, the ghost continued with a slightly more cooperative demeanor. "I will give you a map to the exact location of every artifact. But," he cautioned, "I won't help you with solving the challenges that lay on the way, as even I do not know what they are. I will also give you some tools that will aid you against the devils, should they be released... Let's hope that doesn't happen."

Motioning for them to follow, the ghost led them deeper into the mysterious facility. He explained about a special training ground within the complex where time flowed differently—"Fifteen hours inside is equivalent to one hour outside. This way, you can get stronger as fast as possible," he explained.

He then guided them to a battleground area. "Here you can test yourselves against the statue," he said, gesturing to the arena. "Only once you can withstand ten statues at the same time will I let you leave. Only then might you stand a chance against even the weakest devil." He said while pointing at Amukelo.

The ghost's next advice was more daunting still. "You should train to the edge of your limits, even to the brink of death. That's how you'll gain the most power in the shortest amount of time." His words, though chilling, carried a tone of necessity and urgency.

"I can see that you've used an ancient technique," he observed, nodding towards Amukelo. "This way will also increase the levels of mana you can gather. Eldrian Shadowbane was a true master of this technique. But that wasn't the only reason he could stand toe to toe with Satan. He also mastered control over space and, at some point, even time. If you could master all these dimensions, you might stand a chance against Satan."

His tone turned somber. "But I can't teach you that. I don't even know if there are anymore any masters in this world who understand these concepts. Well, if not... everyone is fucked... If Satan is released, of course."

The stark reality of their situation was laid bare by the ghost's words, painting a grim picture of the challenges they faced. The group absorbed this information, each member processing the gravity of their task and the rigorous training that lay ahead. With a newfound resolve, and the ghost's peculiar mix of cynicism and guidance, they prepared to undertake their training in this strange, timeless realm, aware that the fate of their world might very well depend on their success.