The academy's halls buzzed with excitement for weeks after the Second Trial. Kaelith's victories still echoed in whispers and rumors, but a greater storm loomed on the horizon.
One evening, all disciples were summoned to the grand arena. Tens of thousands gathered, their eyes turned toward the dais where Master Orion Kaelis stood, flanked by Vice-Masters Sylara and Kaelen.
His voice boomed like thunder:
"The Third Trial shall begin one year from now. This is no simple contest between clans. This is a crucible."
The crowd leaned forward.
"In one year, each of you will face an instructor in battle. You may choose which instructor to challenge — but remember, every one of them stands above you. Tier Seven, Tier Six, Tier Five… perhaps even Tier Four. To triumph is to defy your limits."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Orion's eyes swept across them like blades. "Those who succeed will be named among the Top Five Rising Stars of the academy. To rise so high will bring recognition not only here, but across the Demi-God clans and houses. Riches, techniques, opportunities — all will open before you. Fail… and you will be forgotten."
Excitement and fear churned through the disciples like fire.
Kaelith's gaze was steady. A fight against an instructor… Tier Four at the very least. If I stay as I am, I'll be crushed.
He clenched his fists.
One year. In one year, I must climb to Tier Four.
---
The Silence of Training
The days after the announcement, Kaelith withdrew.
While other disciples bathed in glory, sought alliances, or whispered of rivalries, he secluded himself in the training hall Sylara had granted him. It was vast, its walls layered with inscriptions to absorb shock, its floors scarred with ancient battles.
Here, there were no mocking eyes. No distractions. Only silence, sweat, and the sound of his fists striking stone.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each strike cracked the air. His knuckles split, bled, healed, and split again. His breath came in ragged bursts, sweat soaking his body. Yet he did not stop.
When exhaustion clawed at his limbs, he pushed harder. When hunger twisted his gut, he ignored it. When sleep tempted him, he cast it aside.
He consumed the Fifth-Grade Pill. Heat surged through his veins, tearing at his body, reforging it in fire. His cultivation base deepened, his aura stabilizing into Tier Five within mere weeks.
But he was not satisfied.
Tier Five was not enough.
---
Echoes of the Past
Between training sessions, when his body collapsed and his mind drifted, fragments surfaced.
Memories.
Not of this life, nor the last, but of countless lives across infinite cycles.
He saw faces — old comrades, brothers-in-arms, immortal friends.
He remembered laughter around a campfire beneath shattered stars.
He remembered sparring in golden palaces, blades clashing in joy.
He remembered bonds forged in war, oaths sworn in blood.
And he remembered how it had all been ripped away when he severed his fate.
Their faces blurred. Their names vanished. But their warmth lingered.
Kaelith sat in the training hall, sweat dripping, chest heaving. His hand clenched over his heart.
For them. For what I lost. For what the gods stole from me.
He rose, fire in his eyes. "I'll reclaim it all. And more."
---
Training Without End
Days bled into weeks, weeks into months.
Kaelith trained like a man possessed.
He drilled the Heaven-Sundering Fist Manual until each strike cracked the air like thunder. He practiced movement drills until his body blurred, slipping between shadows like flowing water.
He fused them with the Origin Sigil's resonance, its strange pulse enhancing his strikes with hidden force. At first, the resonance was unpredictable — surging randomly, burning him from within. But slowly, painfully, he bent it to his will.
He cultivated endlessly, cycling spiritual energy through his veins until they glowed with power. He pushed his body to collapse, then forced it to rise again. His aura sharpened, heavy and refined.
Sleep became rare. Food became fuel, nothing more.
The disciples whispered of him.
"He hasn't been seen in weeks…"
"They say he trains until his body breaks, then continues."
"…Is he even human?"
---
Breaking Limits
Six months passed.
Kaelith stood in the center of his hall, bare-chested, sweat pouring down his back. His aura roared around him, shaking the very floor.
Tier Five, peak stage.
But still, not enough.
He clenched his fists. His knuckles cracked.
One more step. I must reach Tier Four.
He remembered Sylara's words: Will alone is not invincible. Will must be tempered.
So he tempered it. Hour by hour, strike by strike, breath by breath.
When his body screamed, he forced it to endure. When his spirit faltered, he recalled the faces of his past lives, their laughter, their trust, their loss.
He burned his essence, channeled every drop of energy, forged every part of himself in endless cycles of breaking and reforging.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Fists met stone. Feet shattered earth. His body became a storm of movement and power.
And then —
Boom!
The air cracked. His aura surged, blazing upward, tearing against the ceiling. His veins glowed with light, his spirit roared like a dragon freed.
He collapsed to his knees, gasping, his body trembling.
But when he rose, his aura was no longer Tier Five.
It was Tier Four.
---
Resolve
Kaelith stood tall, sweat and blood streaking his body. His fists clenched, his chest heaving.
He had done it.
One year had not yet passed, but he had broken through. Tier Four.
Enough to stand against an instructor. Enough to fight, to prove himself once more.
Yet he knew this was still only the beginning.
He looked toward the sky beyond the training hall, toward the heavens where the gods sat upon their thrones. His eyes blazed with hatred and resolve.
"You condemned me to regression. You tore away everything I loved."
His voice was low, steady, but each word thundered with unshakable will.
"But I am Kaelith Varion. I will rise beyond you. I will break every chain. And I will carve my domain from the ashes of your thrones."
The wind carried his vow through the silent hall.
And Kaelith returned to training.
For though he had reached Tier Four, the Third Trial would not forgive weakness.
And one year later, the world would tremble when Kaelith Varion stepped forward to claim his place among the stars.