Chapter Six: The Trial of Still Light
Orion woke to silence.
No screams. No fire. No thunderous roars from the Abyss. Just the soft rustling of a curtain as the morning breeze slipped through a cracked window.
The dorm Caelum had prepared for him was small but elegant. The walls were stone, carved with faint sigils that glowed gently in the dark. A single bed with white linens, a wardrobe, and a desk made of pale wood. A bowl of fruit sat on the desk, untouched.
He sat up slowly, eyes adjusting even beneath the thin band of his blindfold.
He hadn't removed it.
He didn't need to.
"I didn't even train yesterday, just spent the rest of my day exploring," he muttered, swinging his legs over the bed. The blindfold brushed his cheek, a soft reminder of the weight on his face—and the weight in his chest.
Seraphyne's words echoed in his mind.
"Without discipline, your gift becomes a burden…"
He took a deep breath, stood, and tied his long black hair behind his head. As always, the golden-white blindfold shimmered faintly as mana coursed through it, reacting to his unique presence. His perception bloomed once again, allowing him to feel the world around him—not through sight, but through the flow of energy.
He stepped outside.
The breeze was cool. The stone floor beneath his feet warmed by morning sun. Birds sang somewhere in the trees that framed the sanctuary walls.
Even with the blindfold on, he could sense the mana of each leaf as it trembled, each bird in flight, each echo of a conversation far off. But it still felt… strange. Like listening with new ears, trying to separate music from noise.
"I'll get used to it," he whispered. "I have to."
"Talking to yourself already?" came a voice.
Orion turned slightly.
Caelum stood nearby, arms crossed, his usual half-smirk present.
"Didn't even knock," Orion said.
"Didn't have to," Caelum replied. "The door wasn't warded. Besides, today's your test."
Orion tensed. "Test?"
"Relax. It's not to prove strength—at least, not in the way you're thinking. This is to see if you're ready to be part of the Holy Order."
He turned and beckoned. "Come. We're going somewhere… restricted."
Orion followed.
They passed through the sanctuary halls, then down a spiraling stairwell hidden behind a sliding wall of scripture. The stone changed color the deeper they went—becoming darker, smoother, etched with older, forgotten sigils. There were no guards. No lights. Only floating crystals glowing faintly.
Most trainees would never see this path.
"You're about to undergo the Trial of Still Light," Caelum said. "Only those sponsored by high-ranking members are allowed here. Normally, only council-blessed trainees get this chance. Seraphyne made an exception."
Orion swallowed. "What kind of trial?"
"You'll see."
They reached a final doorway—a grand arch sealed by golden runes. Caelum raised a hand, and the door groaned open.
The chamber inside was breathtaking.
A vast circular arena stretched out beneath a ceiling that shimmered like the sky. Statues of angelic beings lined the edges—wings raised, blades drawn. At the center of the ceiling hovered a massive, radiant crystal sun, pulsing with holy energy.
Orion stepped inside. The air was thick. Alive.
"The trial is simple," Caelum said from behind him. "Control your mana. And survive."
As he stepped back, the door sealed shut behind Orion.
Immediately, crystals began to rise from the floor—dozens of them—each glowing faintly. They floated around him in shifting orbits.
A voice echoed from above:
"Initiating mana calibration sequence. Please maintain control of your flow. Any instability will result in resonance backlash."
The crystals began to rotate faster.
Orion took a breath. He held out his hand, trying to stabilize the energy around one of them. The moment his focus wavered, it buzzed violently and darted past his face.
His brow furrowed.
"No distractions. Just flow…"
He centered his breathing and let his mana extend outward like calm waves. The crystals responded, slowing slightly, aligning with his rhythm.
Then they froze.
"Calibration complete. Combat trial: Commencing."
The floor cracked.
From the fissure, darkness rose—a silhouette, identical to Orion, stepped out. Same face. Same frame. But his aura… twisted.
Crackling black lightning arced from his hands. His eyes—golden like Orion's—burned with Abyssal fire.
It smiled.
And attacked.
Orion barely had time to react. A lightning-fast jab grazed his cheek. The corrupted version moved like wind—slippery, unpredictable. He dodged, flipped back, then spun, deflecting a blast with raw mana.
He was fast. But not fast enough.
Another strike caught him in the ribs. Pain flared.
"I can't follow his movements," Orion muttered.
He gritted his teeth.
Then reached up.
And untied the blindfold.
The moment it slipped away, his world lit up. The arena exploded in layers of clarity. Every flicker of mana, every twitch of movement—it was like watching slowed lightning.
A soft tone rang in his mind.
[User's stats: Orion Caelvar]
Strength: C
Agility: C
Endurance: B
Mana Control: C+
Perception: B+
Skill Tree Unlocked
Active Skills: None
Passive Abilities: Eyes of the Radiant Star (Locked Passive)
Notice: User may awaken one Signature Skill.
Orion exhaled sharply. "Okay… I can do this."
He launched forward, eyes locked on the corrupted double.
They clashed—fist to fist, lightning to lightning. Holy sparks exploded against Abyssal corruption. Every step, every strike, was calculated. Calm. Precise. Orion moved like water, deflecting and redirecting energy.
"Who taught him to fight?" Caelum whispered from behind the viewing wall. "He's… dancing with the storm…"
Back in the arena, Orion grunted, sliding back. The corrupted double charged again.
But something sparked inside him.
"I need… more. I need to end this."
He focused inward. Letting his mana coil around an idea. A feeling. A memory of thunder and light. He shaped it, willed it.
[Skill Creation in Progress…]
Input Element: Holy Lightning
Input Type: Offensive / C-Rank
Skill Created: "Lightning Lance"
Description: A concentrated spear of holy lightning forged from pure mana and divine will. The lance bypasses conventional physical defenses, ignoring armor and barrier-based resistances. Upon impact, it delivers a paralyzing shock and inflicts holy-burn damage over time, especially effective against Abyssal and corrupted entities.
Orion raised his hand—lightning condensed into a spear, humming with divine fury.
He threw it.
It sliced through the corrupted double mid-charge, splitting the illusion apart in a blast of radiant light.
Silence followed.
Orion dropped to one knee, panting. Sweat dripped from his chin. His hands trembled. Mana drained. Heart racing.
But he was alive.
The chamber brightened again as the corrupted form dissolved entirely.
The sealed doors opened.
Caelum stepped inside, slow-clapping with a grin.
"Well… congratulations."
He walked up to Orion, kneeling beside him.
"Your fighting skill is amazing. Who taught you how to fight?"
Orion gave a weak smile and replied, "It's all… self-taught."
"Self-taught, huh?" Caelum's brows lifted, impressed. "That's nice. You must have trained a lot."
Orion chuckled softly, though his body still trembled. "Guess I didn't have much of a choice."
Caelum nodded, and for a moment, the teasing faded from his face.
"You passed, Orion. Not because of power… but because of how you held it. The Trial of Still Light isn't just about survival. It's about control. And purpose."
He reached out and helped Orion to his feet.
"You're not just gifted—you're dangerous. But you're not reckless. That's why Seraphyne was right about you."
As Orion steadied himself, his gaze lifted toward the fading glow of the crystal sun above.
For the first time since the orphanage burned, he felt… something shift.
Resolve.
He wasn't just surviving anymore.
He was moving forward.