Kael didn’t move at first.
The runic sphere spun above him, threads of pure spiritual force arcing in all directions. It was chaotic—frenzied—like a beast trying to tear itself apart. The formation had a will now, and that will wasn’t passive.
It wanted to overwhelm him.
"No... It’s not just trying to scare ." His eyes narrowed.
It was testing synchronization. If the first phase was about tuning in, this was about alignnt—dancing to its rhythm while directing the flow.
Kael clenched his fists, arms trembling from exertion. His essence core remained sealed. There was no fallback. No cheat. Just him, his senses, and whatever fragnts of instinct hadn’t been dulled by the suppression.
The first stray thread lashed toward his head.
He didn’t dodge. He stepped forward and then pivoted a single half-turn, letting it glide past him.
’It’s like sword forms...’ his eyes brightened at the realization.
The thought struck him. Sword forms started with the basic sword drills, footwork, and then precision. The movent of energy was no different from a blade’s arc. It had rhythm. Flow.
Another thread snapped down—this one aiming for his chest.
Kael shifted, letting the strike pass under his arm. Then he reached out and caught the thread between two fingers.
Pain tore through his palm. Not burning, but freezing. The cold of unbound essence.
But—
He held it.
With a grunt, he redirected it into the glowing floor beneath him, rging it with one of the active channels.
[Thread Synchronization: 1/3 stabilized.]
The hum in the air deepened. The sphere brightened, spinning faster.
More threads flailed.
Kael moved.
One step to the left. A tilt of the shoulder. A roll under a twisting arc. Every movent was refined. asured. Like a swordsman in a storm of blades—each dodge deliberate, each angle calculated.
But the pressure didn’t let up.
Every few seconds, the suppression intensified, clouding his mind like a weighted fog. His knees buckled slightly. His vision blurred.
Still, he didn’t stop.
He locked onto the second thread, this one was stuttering like a broken signal. It danced erratically, lashing out without pattern.
Kael focused on its rhythm—not just visually, but through his skin, his nerves, the weight in the room. He felt its cadence.
On the third pass, he caught it.
His palm slamd into the stream. It resisted, lashing against his body like a whip. Kael growled, forcing it downward.
It flickered violently... then dimd.
[Thread Synchronization: 2/3 stabilized.]
[Ti Remaining: 152 seconds.]
A low rumble shook the hall.
The ceiling cracked further. One of the floating orbs overhead exploded in a burst of spiritual fla. The scent of burning essence filled the room.
Kael flinched as debris showered down.
He staggered back, nearly slipping on the rune-slick floor.
But then he felt it—
The third thread. It wasn’t lashing, it was pulling. Drawing energy from the formation and releasing it outward in tiny pulses.
His eyes widened. "It’s not aggressive... It’s a leak."
He moved.
Quick, agile steps took him toward the core of the formation. This ti, he didn’t reach for the thread. He completed it—his fingers tracing the missing arc with borrowed rhythm, mimicking its flow.
The leak slowed. Then sealed.
[Thread Synchronization: 3/3 stabilized.]
[Main Formation Stabilizing.]
The sphere pulsed once, then collapsed inward.
Kael stumbled, barely catching himself as the room fell still.
Everything dimd.
And then—
A new layer of runes ford at his feet, spiraling outward from the platform. It was like a flower blooming—petals of ancient script unfurling across the obsidian floor.
He didn’t need a system prompt to know it. This was the final lock.
He stepped into the circle.
Imdiately, the platform shuddered.
[Final Calibration Sequence Initiated.]
[Manual Flow Alignnt Required.]
A projection burst to life around him—ten channels of flowing light, each representing a pathway of spiritual circulation. But they weren’t his. These were foreign. Wrong.
And yet... familiar?
Kael frowned. "It’s soone else’s path..."
His gaze sharpened.
That was the point. He had to align his spiritual frequency—manually—to match an entirely foreign path. Without his core. Without his techniques.
Just awareness, precision, and control.
He knelt in the center.
The ten channels pulsed—erratic, staggered, out of harmony. If he didn’t align them quickly, the system would collapse.
He exhaled. "Start simple."
He traced the first line with his finger. It resisted, then softened. The pulse synchronized with his breathing.
The second, faster, rougher. He adjusted his rhythm, blinking rapidly to stay focused.
Then the third. And the fourth. Each one different. Demanding a new tempo.
By the sixth, his fingers bled.
Sweat poured from his forehead. His chest burned with the effort of holding his breath in staggered intervals.
But he kept going.
The ninth channel stabilized with a surge of warm energy, just enough to soothe his battered nerves.
He reached for the tenth—
—and the suppression spiked.
A scream ripped through his thoughts.
He clutched his skull, vision flashing white. It felt like soone had poured molten essence into his brain.
His hands trembled. His legs gave out.
The channel twisted.
[Final Path Rejection: Calibration Failing.]
"No. No no no—" Kael panicked, and then he punched the floor, blood saring across the runes.
"You’re not winning."
With a broken cry, he lifted his hand again and slamd his palm onto the final channel.
The feedback was instant. It lashed through his bones, forcing every inch of his control to the surface.
He rode the pain. Not fighting it, but using it. Matching his fractured thoughts to the rhythm of the chaos.
And then—
Click!
Silence ensued... Pure, heavy silence.
The runes lit up like dawn breaking through a battlefield.
[Calibration Complete.]
[Trial Cleared: Floor 7 – Trial of Energy Control.]
Kael collapsed backward, staring at the ceiling. Every inch of him shook. His lungs burned. His limbs throbbed.
But...
He smiled. "I did it."
The floor beneath him trembled.
A golden light descended, wrapping around his body.
And in the far distance— A new gate opened. Floor Eight awaited.
Reviews
All reviews (0)