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Chapter 17 - Trial

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Trial

Two years had passed exactly 983 years of the gods' calendar since the sky broke. Most people just called it "The Calamity," but everyone knew the truth: the One-Eyed Black Dragon still breathed. Somewhere out there, in the dark corners of the world, the beast remained a living nightmare.

The scars were everywhere. An entire kingdom had been erased from the map, its citizens scattered like ash in the wind as monsters swarmed like a hungry ant. That to that I must help my father doing cleanup do defense my home border.

I woke to the soft touch of sunlight creeping across my pillow.

"Hoam..." I groaned, stretching my arms toward the ceiling until my joints popped. Outside the door, the familiar rhythm of footsteps approached.

The door creaked open to reveal Laffey. Strapped to her back was a small, slumbering bundle of warmth: Lefiya Viridis. Born in the heart of the chaos, she was our little miracle. She had inherited her mother's golden hair, though her eyes—when they were open—were a deep, startling blue. Seeing her tucked peacefully against Laffey, I couldn't help but smile.

"Good morning, Young Master," Laffey said softly. She moved with practiced grace, handing me my clothes and a mug of warm milk.

"Thank you, Laffey," I said, taking a sip. "But shouldn't you be resting? Lefiya is still so young; you should stay home and look after her."

Laffey shook her head, her expression firm. "You are my family, Master. I will stay by your side whenever I can."

I sighed into my milk. "If that's the case, can you at least stop calling me 'Master'? Try 'Oberon' for once?"

"I'm afraid I cannot do that."

"Ugh… waaa!"

Our bickering had done it. Lefiya stirred, her tiny face scrunching up before she let out a piercing wail. Laffey swayed gently, trying to soothe her, but the baby wasn't having it.

"I just fed her a moment ago," Laffey whispered, sounding defeated.

"Here, let me try." I reached out, gently tucking my hands under Lefiya's arms and lifting her from her mother's back. The moment she settled into my arms, the crying vanished. She blinked up at me, then let out a tiny, contented huff.

Laffey beamed. "I fear that when she grows up, she will be far too attached to you, Master."

"I don't see the problem with that," I laughed, gently patting the tuft of blonde hair on the baby's head. 'Being called 'Big Brother' wouldn't be a bad addition to this family at all.'

"I will leave home till dark."

"Again,"Laffey sigh "Madam will not be happy she return sudden not seeing young master."

"I am sorry, but it's important."

"I understand, but promise me master come home before dark."

I nodded in replied.

====x====

With a hum of mana and a flash of light, the teleportation circle deposited me back into the heart of my underground manor. The teleport hub was finally complete, its silent, lethal traps lying in wait for any uninvited guest foolish enough to stumble through.

I began the ten-minute trek down the long, echoing hall. At the end, the oppressive silence of the tunnel was shattered by the thunderous roar of a subterranean waterfall. There, nestled in the center of the crashing white foam, sat a gothic manor of staggering beauty. It was crafted from tiers of pristine white marble, it's tall, clear windows glittering like gemstones against the dark cavern walls. A single, narrow stone bridge was the only path to its doors.

At the bridge's threshold stood two sentinels: tall Golem Knights encased in runic armor. They stood like statues, spears gripped in heavy metal gauntlets, ready to impale any intruder. The moment I stepped into view, their heads inclined in a heavy, synchronized clank of metal—a silent salute to their lord.

Waiting at the gate—a masterpiece of enchanted metal forged by Oberon—were two women. Varda stood tall, composed as ever. Beside her was Flora, a recently summoned Servant. Though she appeared almost human, her shimmering silver hair and piercing gold eyes gave away her otherworldly origins.

"Good afternoon, Master," Varda said, her voice a steady anchor.

Flora followed with a deep bow, her eyes bright. "Master, welcome home!"

"Thank you for your hard work, Varda, Flora," I replied, glancing past them. "Where is Orstrid?"

Varda let out a weary sigh, the sound of a frustrated older sister. "In the training ground, Master. Again."

I chuckled. "It's alright. I'll head down shortly. Flora, how is the Automaton project progressing?"

"It goes smoothly, Master! We already have a prototype capable of walking."

As the gates swung open, the interior of the mansion revealed itself—a sanctuary of luxury. White marble tiles flowed into matching walls, and far above, the ceiling was vaulted with dark granite. Inset into the stone were thousands of glowing mana crystals, shimmering in swirling patterns like a captive constellation of stars.

Flora led me to a short, dark-haired maid standing as still as a mannequin. I stepped closer, inspecting the craftsmanship. Her skin was a sophisticated rubber composite; it felt warm and soft to the initial touch, but a firm press revealed the unyielding, cold skeletal frame beneath.

"Zanoba's designs are peerless," Flora explained, her fingers tracing the mana lines on the maid's arm. "But it still needs more complex magic circles to fluidize its movements. Currently, its combat capabilities are on par with a Sword Saint, with magic reserves reaching the advanced tier."

I placed a hand over the automaton's chest, feeling the hum of the high-density crystal core and squeeze breast like real woman. "This is an incredible start, Flora. We just need rarer materials to stabilize the output, especially for the core."

Flora's golden eyes lit up. "Exactly! I suspect that within the deeper dungeons, there are minerals that absorb both surface light and terrestrial mana. If I can get my hands on those, the absorption rate would be exponential."

"I'll put the word out to the traveling merchants," I promised.

Flora beamed. "Thank you, Master! I won't let you down."

Leaving Flora to her workshop, I descended the spiraling stone stairs toward the training grounds. As I moved, the floor beneath my boots began to vibrate.

The stairs opened into a vast, circular arena. In the center stood a girl with shimmering silver hair and icy blue eyes, her sword leveled at a training golem that mimicked her every stance. This was Orstrid. As a Dragon-kin, white scales dusted her skin and silver wings folded neatly against her back. She possessed a terrifying, stoic aura—the same primal, "Apex Predator" gaze that made me shiver whenever I encountered Orsted, the Son of the Dragon God.

In a heartbeat, Orstrid moved.

It happened in a blur of motion that defied the eye. She was there, and then she was behind the statue, her blade clicking softly back into its scabbard. For a second, nothing happened. Then, the heavy stone statue slid apart, severed perfectly in half.

Even if you didn't blink, you would have missed it. It was the "Long Sword of Light"—the signature of the Sword God. It wasn't quite as perfect as Eris's—there was no sonic boom or blinding flash of light yet—but the lethality was undeniable.

"Orstrid," I called out.

She took flight, her wings snapping open to carry her across the arena. She landed gracefully and bowed. "Good afternoon, Master. Shall we spar?"

Her face remained a mask of stoic calm, but I noticed her white tail wiggling behind her like an excited puppy. She was the polar opposite of Eris; she tried so hard to suppress her feelings, but her body always gave her away.

"Another time," I said. "You're getting close to mastering the technique."

"It is only due to your guidance, Master."

I felt a twinge of guilt. I'm not sure I'm much of a teacher. Everything I knew about the sword came from the countless times Eris had beaten me into the dirt. My soul didn't remember the theory; it just remembered the pain of her strikes.

"I've located a concentration of monsters in the outer territories," I told her. "I need you to clear them out and harvest as many materials as possible."

"As you command. I will prepare for departure immediately."

"Good. Report your findings to Varda. I'm nearing my time of my special birthday ceremony."

There is ceremony that happen following certain timing of the birth day and the sign on the moon and the clear weather on the Alf Mountain.

Varda, who had followed me down, looked excited. "Congratulations, Master! We shall prepare a grand banquet for your return."

"And I," Orstrid added, her tail thumping against the floor, "will hunt the finest beast I can find for the feast." She clearly didn't want to be outdone by her sister.

"I'm looking forward to it." I walked over to Orstrid. Even though I was a respectable 170cm, she towered over me at 190cm. I reached up, placing a hand on her shoulder while casting a brief pulse of healing magic to soothe her training aches. "I'm counting on you, Orstrid. Protect our home."

She looked down at me, her gaze fierce and loyal. "I will."

====x====

The sunlight filtered through the windows, but the usual warmth of the morning was missing. I woke to a heavy, hollow silence; Laffey was nowhere to be found, and I knew exactly why. Today, the quiet was a requirement.

I dressed with deliberate movements. My clothes had been laid out with ritualistic care: a crimson shirt and dark cotton trousers. Over them, I pulled on a white leather breastplate, finally donning the heavy red robe that bore my family crest—the mark of the Aendryr Wishe—across my back.

When I stepped outside, the morning air bit at my skin. Waiting at the gate was Aunt Hyrmr, flanked by the Royal High Guard. Her usual warmth had vanished, replaced by a mask of stone.

"Oberon Aendryr Wishe," she began, her voice ringing out with a sturdy, commanding resonance. "Son of Levos and Viska. Hear now the word of King Larfal Ljos Alf."

She unfurled a leather scroll, her grip tightening on the edges.

"I congratulate you, by the King's grace, on reaching your twelve year. To prove your worth, you shall traverse the Ancient Forest unaided. May the spirits grant you their blessing and their luck."

My breath hitched. The Ancient Forest wasn't just a woods; it was the sacred gateway to the Alf Mountains. It was a place of legend and terror—a path forbidden to the uninvited, from which the unworthy never returned.

Aunt Hyrmr's stoic mask flickered for a fraction of a second. "I pray for your safety," she added, her voice dropping a register. "For you, and for the honor of your house."

"I understand, Aunt Hyrmr," I replied, keeping my voice steady.

As I prepared to depart, Tanyl trotted to my side, already saddled and laden with my supplies. I paused, glancing up at the balcony. My parents stood there, watching me with a mixture of pride and unspoken fear.

I didn't let my smile waver. "I'm heading out," I called up to them, a final farewell before turning toward the dark eaves of the forest.

====x====

The sun hung heavy and golden directly overhead, marking a half-day's trek to the northwest. I moved through a living contradiction: the air tasted of crisp autumn as amber leaves spiraled down, yet the forest floor was carpeted in the vibrant, waxy blooms of eternal spring. It was a marvel of nature—or rather, a symptom of the ancient, alien energy that held this wood in its grip.

Tanyl was in a rare, radiant mood. She darted across the moss-slicked roots with the grace of a predator in its own domain. A horse would have lost its footing on the damp velvet of the shadowed stones, but for Tanyl as she is a Stag.

As we reached the wide silver ribbon of the landmark river, the world changed. On the far bank stood the Alf Forest. The trees there didn't just grow; they dominated. They were green pillars of such impossible height that the mountains beyond were completely swallowed by their canopy.

 "It's strange," I whispered, the hair on my arms standing up. "I feel... a pull like a vacuum."

With a sharp mental command, I thrust my will into the earth. A jagged lance of stone erupted from the riverbed, creating a stepping stone. Without a second's hesitation, Tanyl leaped, her hooves clicking against the rock as we cleared the rushing water.

((Thump-thump))

My heart staggered. A sudden, violent rhythm took hold of my chest—a feeling of intense familiarity for a place I had never stepped foot in. I flooded my brain with mana to sharpen my senses, and my breath hitched.

"It's like jumping into an ocean," I gasped.

The air wasn't just air anymore; it was a thick, pressurized soup of mana. Tanyl trotted forward, seemingly oblivious, but the deeper we went, the heavier the "nature energy" became. I had to force my magical senses shut, fearing the sheer intensity of the environment would leave me vulnerable.

The forest floor was unnervingly clean. No rotting logs, no debris—just a sea of moss and those massive, celestial pillars of wood reaching for the heavens.

The pull in my soul became a magnetic tug, dragging me toward the unknown. I reached out with a telepathic thread to check on my companion, but there was only silence. I was internally alone.

"Detection on," I muttered. A faint current of electricity danced through the humid air, extending a web for hundreds of meters. In this stillness, even a falling leaf would register like a thunderclap.

We pushed forward until the giants parted. There, in a sun-drenched clearing, sat a tree that looked humble by comparison. It was small, gnarled, and ancient, draped in shifting leaves that sparkled like grounded stars.

CRACK.

The tree groaned, its branches stretching and shifting like a man waking from a century of sleep. A face began to form in the bark—lines deepening into eyes, a knot of wood becoming a nose. It was a sight from the legendary games of my old life, a memory of comfort in a world of chaos.

"A Deku Tree?" I whispered, a smile tugging at my lips.

The hollow eyes opened, glowing with a heavy, ancient wisdom. The wooden lips creaked upward.

"You are as restless as Sindarin described," the tree spoke, his voice a deep, resonant bass that vibrated in my marrow.

'Sindarin? She spoke of me?'

"Indeed. Every living root has whispered your name since your birth ten years ago."

"You can read my mind?" I asked, startled.

"We are bound by contract, Oberon. We are connected. As you wish upon us, we provide." At his words, the grass beneath me exploded into a riot of colorful wildflowers, fed by the mana leaking from my own skin. "Your family, the Wishe line, is blessed by Eterna, the Light Spirit. Her fire brings range; her light brings healing. But you... you are absorbing too much. You are overflowing."

 "Is nature energy and mana not the same?" I asked, confused.

"Sit. Close your eyes," the Great Tree commanded. "Mortals rely on five senses, but you ignore the most vital: Balance. Your internal energy is a storm. Your mana and the forest's nature energy are fighting for dominance. To survive here, you must stop fighting. Let go of the leash."

I hesitated. "If I drop my mana... someone might see. I'll be a beacon."

"Fear not, young one. This grove is forbidden. Even the gaze of the gods cannot pierce this canopy."

I took a breath and turned the invisible key in my soul. I opened the gates.

The reaction was violent. A shockwave of raw mana erupted from me, flattening the grass in a perfect circle. The nature energy of the forest rushed in to meet it, creating a localized cyclone of gold and blue light. My vision blurred as I tried to wrestle the chaos.

After long training from his day of birth his mana capacity shoot into another height that even make gods felt hint of fear of his existence.

"Don't control it, Oberon," the voice boomed through the wind. "Guide it."

I focused on the thin, glowing thread of the contract—the bond with my servant. Using that as an anchor, I smoothed the jagged edges of the energy. My hair flared a brilliant, burning red, and the air around me turned into a warm, life-giving gale.

"I feel... different," I whispered, looking at my hands.

"You are close to the Origin now," the tree said. A branch lowered itself toward me, snapping off with a sharp clack and shifting its shape until it was a sturdy, elegant staff. "Take this. It will help your body remember this frequency. It is a piece of the forest to carry with you."

I took the staff, feeling its resonance. 'I'd prefer a sword,' I thought wryly, 'but this will do.'

"Now," the Deku Tree's eyes began to dim as he returned to his slumber. "Follow your senses. The trial awaits, and it would be no trial at all if I gave you what await you ahead."

"Wait—do you have a name?"

The tree gave one last, weary smile. "You've already named me, haven't you? Deku will suffice."

I watched him fade back into the bark, a wary grin on my face. 'Note to self: find a spell to block mind-reading as soon as possible.'

====x====

Following Deku's directions, I pressed onward. The soft give of meadow grass eventually surrendered to the jarring crunch of stone as the terrain tilted upward. By the time I reached the base of the massive peak, the sun was a bleeding wound on the horizon. I found a spot near a rushing stream—water was plenty here, and the sound would mask my presence.

Setting up the tent was a grueling, hour-long battle against canvas and poles, but the reward was worth it. Digging into the pack, I pulled out the cookies mother had baked. They were made to last weeks, but they tasted like home. The sharp, sweet sting of cinnamon bloomed across my tongue, a physical warmth spreading through my chest with every bite.

The fire crackled, its orange light dancing against the looming shadow of the mountain. I sat there, my knuckles white as I gripped my staff.

"I can feel it," I whispered.

Closing my eyes, I reached out with my mind. It was like discovering a hidden anatomy of the world. Great veins of energy pulsed beneath the soil, spreading out under my feet like a glowing root system. I tried to trace them back to their origin, but the moment I "looked" at the source, it was like staring directly into a midday sun. My senses were instantly blinded, seared by a radiance too vast to comprehend.

I gazed up at the silhouette of Alf Mountain, a cold pit forming in my stomach. "What is that?"

The elves speak of a hierarchy in the spirit world—a structure where the beings at the top are essentially peers to the gods, the very architects of life in Gekai. If that source was what I thought it was, I was walking into the domain of a titan.

To distract myself, I tried to name the sensation.

"Should I call this Nature Mode? No... maybe Sage Mode?"

Even after a hundred years, the old Otaku tendencies died hard. My memories of my past life were fading into a hazy fog, but the echoes of my favorite anime and games remained etched into my soul like scars.

My smile flickered and died as I looked down at my hands. With an endless well of nature energy and mana at my fingertips, I knew exactly what I was becoming. I wasn't just a mage; I was a potential monster.

"The sky is the limit, I suppose," I murmured, looking up. The stars hung like polished jewels in a velvet sky, and the moon felt so close I could almost reach out and touch its cold surface. "I just wonder... will this power eventually corrupt what's left of me?"

The night air turned brittle and cold despite the roaring fire. A shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature ran down my spine.

"I pray that if that time comes," I said to the emptiness, "Goddess Ereshkigal will be the one to take my life."

Feeling my exhaustion, Tanyl padded over, settling down beside me. I leaned back, using her soft fur as a pillow. Wrapped in her warmth and the scent of woodsmoke, I finally let the darkness take me.

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