Shawn had made it this far by himself. He did not know what lay ahead, but the fragment of soul before him was the only thing standing between him and whatever treasures lay beyond—if there were any at all.
And this fragment's aura was immense, so dense that it eclipsed even the monstrous presence of the Ascendant they had faced before. Yet this was only a shard of a soul. The realization made his skin crawl. If just a fragment exuded such power, then what kind of being was the original owner? What heights of strength had they once reached?
A chilling thought crept into his mind—what if he had to fight this entity? If the soul chose to attack him, could he even defend himself? His breaths came slow and controlled as he carefully treaded the flow of conversation. One misstep, one misplaced word, and he might invite his own destruction.
But who was he to fear? If this soul had wanted to kill him, there would be no conversation at all.
"I hate being weak, being at the mercy of others," Shawn grumbled internally. "If this is what I signed up for after death, I would have never accepted it. Sure, I have powers I never dreamed of possessing, but they're weak. Air manipulation? It's one of the weakest Vitrals. I wish I had flames or could bend space with a thought."
As if responding to his very thoughts, the soul spoke, its voice resonating within his mind. "You must undergo trials to prove yourself worthy of what lies ahead. But before that, we must test your affinity to Vitral."
Jarvine, as the soul had introduced itself, gestured toward a path leading to a grand hall. At its center stood a moderate-sized platform with a black slate podium. Reluctantly, Shawn placed his hands upon it.
The moment his skin made contact, the slate seemed to hunger for his energy. His reserves dwindled at an alarming rate. Though still an Aspirant, his ability to absorb soul force was already slow, and to make matters worse, he constantly had to feed two soul cores, making his progression even more grueling. Yet he knew the truth of this world—a strong foundation was everything. Those who built upon weak foundations could never ascend to true heights. Even if they forced their growth, they would forever remain inferior to those who had nurtured their roots properly.
The podium felt warm beneath his fingers. Then, a sudden jolt coursed through his entire being, like a foreign energy probing his very essence before vanishing a second later.
Worried, Shawn instinctively reached out to Elaris, his guiding core. But the response he received washed away his unease.
"Interesting. You possess an Air Vitral, akin to my master's, though his was far more advanced. He was a mighty figure—one whose name you may already know, or will soon learn if you seek the truth. But you are fortunate. Since your affinity aligns with his, this inheritance will be suitable for you. However, whether you can claim it depends entirely on your comprehension and will to learn."
Shawn narrowed his eyes. Something about this felt too easy. "Why do I feel like I'm just being handed an inheritance without much struggle?" he muttered to Elaris, skepticism creeping into his tone. "This seems too good to be true."
He knew better than to question the soul directly. That was a death wish. But as if sensing his doubts, Jarvine's voice rang out again. "Do not concern yourself with such thoughts. I am here solely to ensure that my master's inheritance does not fade into obscurity."
Before Shawn could press further, the ground trembled. The walls quaked. The air itself shifted.
"Do you understand what air truly is?" Jarvine's voice turned deeper, laced with power. "The essence of air is not merely movement. It is stability. With air, you can become a god among men. But knowledge is power, and power without understanding is a blade without a wielder."
A gust surged through the cavern, carrying the weight of impending judgment.
"The First Trial: The Void Wind. A test not of power, but of wisdom. If you fail, you will not leave this place alive."
The Void Wind
As Shawn stepped forward, the world shifted.
Silence.
Absolute and suffocating. The howling winds had vanished. There was no sound, no movement. It was a world devoid of air, devoid of life.
He took a cautious step. His breath felt heavy. The absence of air made his limbs sluggish. Something was terribly wrong.
Then, it struck.
A thin slash appeared on his cheek before he even realized it. Blood dripped, only to be instantly devoured by the void. The cut was so clean, so precise, that he barely felt it.
Then another came. And another.
Invisible blades of wind carved through the air like unseen reapers, seeking to slice him apart. He barely dodged, feeling the ghostly kiss of an enemy he could not see.
Jarvine's words echoed in his mind. "Do you know what air is? The power of air is not just about moving and controlling it, but it carries stability."
A test of knowledge, not strength.
Shawn shut his eyes. He reached out with his senses. The wind was formless, elusive. He had to find another way.
Then it clicked.
Wind wasn't just a force. It followed patterns. It could be read, understood. He knelt, pressing his palm against the unseen ground, feeling, listening.
A faint chill brushed his skin. A minuscule shift in pressure. The Void Winds weren't random. They were a labyrinth of currents.
If he moved against them, he would be shredded.
If he followed them, he might survive.
With newfound understanding, he weaved between the slashing currents, moving not as a fighter, but as one with the wind. Seconds stretched into eternity. His body burned with near-misses, his mind strained, but he kept moving.
Then— the void trembled.
A platform emerged from the darkness. At its center sat an ethereal figure, shifting between solid and intangible.
"The final test," it intoned, voice both a whisper and a roar. "The burden of knowledge."
The winds surged inward, entering him. His mind expanded, flooded with visions—
The first breath of a newborn child.
The storm that reshaped mountains.
The unseen currents that dictated life itself.
Air was not just an element. It was the unseen force that shaped existence.
The wind whispered its final challenge.
"To wield air, you must surrender to it. Will you fight, or will you become?"
Every instinct screamed at him to seize control. But true mastery was not about control.
It was about trust.
Shawn exhaled—and let go.
The winds consumed him. He became part of them. And in that moment, he understood.
He was not the master of air.
He was air.
The void shattered. The winds roared in approval.
Shawn collapsed onto solid ground, gasping. The cavern returned. The trial was over. Jarvine's presence lingered beside him, satisfaction in his tone.
"You have passed."
A gust swirled around Shawn, no longer an external force but an extension of himself. He clenched his fist, the air whispering around him in response.
Jarvine's voice turned solemn. "This is only the beginning. The path of the sky is endless."
Shawn smiled. He was ready. But weakness made it difficult for him to move on.
" Remind me Elaris never to do such a thing again. It is draining, I can't even move." Shawn spoke to Elaris.
"Do not worry, I am sure that he will let you rest for a bit before continuing onto the last test." She said, trying to comfort Shawn, who fell asleep the moment his head touched the ground.
" I hope the next one is easy, This is traumatising and tiresome." Elaris soliloquized.