A formless pressure descended, pressing against his very soul. It was as if an ancient sword had come alive, testing his resolve.
The very air twisted, distorting under the sheer weight of the test.
Boom!
An invisible force surged into Apollo's mind, striking directly at his soul.
Visions flickered before his eyes—
Endless battlefields drowned in rivers of blood.
Swords shattered, wills broken, countless corpses torn or shredded, warriors kneeling in despair as everything seems meaningless.
The weight of countless fallen swordsmen, their regrets and unfulfilled dreams, crashed down upon him.
This was a test that laid one's heart bare.
For an ordinary swordsman, doubts would creep in, fear would take root, and hesitation would sever their path forward.
But Apollo—
He did not move.
