45th of Season of Air, 58th year of the 32nd cycle

For the cheap price of five second realm manarium crystals, Newt arranged a season-long accommodation for Dandelion amongst the workers of the Explorer's Gate. He had not seen his big brother since, both of them focusing on their work.

Newt paused sculpting his realm until Dandelion finished the new and improved realm blueprint. The man had assured him he would reuse as much of the original design as possible, but Newt had a feeling he would have to discard most of his progress and redo his third realm. Such was the price of power - dedication and hard work.

His days fused together in a haze of reading and experimenting with spell formations, checkered by occasional lessons with his master, Lord Flameax, and Lord Twinflower.

Twinflower had nothing in common with his name. He was a fourth realm worker overseer, but one of the best spearmen in the order, according to Lady Alabaster. Scars riddled the lithe old man, marking him a veteran of countless battles, near the end of his lifespan. Newt liked him, but Lord Twinflower had too many burdens, too many regrets, and they had severed his path forward.

I wonder who would win between him and Dandelion? Newt thought a moment before his jaw flashed with phantom pain. He leaned back, but the spear's butt end still struck him soundly on the cheek, making his head spin.

"Your mind is wandering again." Lord Twinflower sounded like the grating of metal plates. "Focus."

Newt wanted to say, "Yes, teacher," but another sweep with the spear killed the words before they left his mouth.

Lord Twinflower was merciless. He held nothing back at all. Instead of sparing his student, he used the full power of his peak fourth realm mage physique to trounce Newt whenever the youth's attention wandered. Technically Newt was stronger, much stronger, but the old mage compensated somehow, his body nearly as agile as his mind.

Newt had just beaten off another furious assault when the attacks stopped.

"You have a visitor." Lord Twinflower retreated, and Newt turned around, nearly jumping with excitement.

An outer student waited patiently just outside the barrier screening sound and mana. Newt rushed towards him, thinking Dandelion had already made some progress when he noticed two other outer students respectfully waiting outside the barriers within which elite students Moonray and Longfang trained.

The latter was Lord Longfang's great-grandson and another member of the Chamber of Runes.

"Sir Salamandra, the council of champions has ordered all elite students to gather at the Chamber of Instruction as soon as possible."

Newt could hear similar words repeated, and the three elites went towards the Chamber of Instruction together, just as a horde of outer students walked past them.

"Any idea what's going on?" Moonray asked.

Newt shrugged, but Longfang knew something. "I caught a rumor that my ancestor has left for the heart of the jungle to work on some special runic seals. It could be related to that."

So, you don't know anything either.

After a short walk, Newt and his fellow students entered the main building of the Chamber of Instruction. An usher led the way to an indoor lecture hall large enough to fit a hundred people. Forty-three already sat inside, and a handful of minutes later the last of the fifty-four elite students arrived.

"Good day to you all," the chaplain in charge of the Chamber of Instruction said. "The order will organize three events in the near future. All elite students and inner students below the age of seventy-eight may join the first one. Those who complete it may continue to the second, and those who complete the second one may advance to the third. Each of these events is a trial and an opportunity."

The air around Newt came close to crackling. Excitement seeped out of his fellow students, their emotions tugging at the surrounding mana and clashing with each other's. Lightning was building up, close to birthing a clap of thunder, and the chaplain smiled.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Apparently, the atmosphere made her happy.

"The first event is the Tower of Suffering, a secret realm left behind by one of our past disciplinary chaplains. Chaplain Severrain designed the realm with the intent of honing the students' strength, agility, and endurance through scaling an endlessly tall tower from the outside. To pass the trial, you simply have to finish the climb in the first half of all the participants, assuming half of you finish. Those who fail to make it into the top half will fail the trial despite their elite status. I must warn you that the climb itself is unfair and treacherous. Each student will have their own climbing surface. You cannot exchange them or stray into others' paths. What you get is yours, and it will be awarded randomly."

The venerable paused, scanning the crowd.

"You might wonder why this is important. It's because all surfaces are different. Some are slippery, and those climbing them will risk falling; others are jagged and sharp enough to cut fifth realm knights." She made an awkward face. "And one of you might even get a simple flight of stairs leading all the way to the top. The trial is unfair. Those who have climbing ropes, pitons nailed into their wall, or easy handholds will climb faster and effortlessly. Chaplain Severrain, the creator of the realm, insisted luck was also an ability."

The chaplain smiled, and Newt saw guilt in it.

"Fortunately, there are only a handful of such tracks, so the most important factor will be you."

She took a breath, and Newt knew the worst was coming and it was reserved for him and him alone.

"Just like some climbs will be extremely easy, a handful will be extremely difficult."

There it goes.

"You might face attacks, such as gusts of wind trying to knock you down, flames scorching you, and landslides and hailstorms pelting you. Again, the fortunate circumstance is that there are only a handful of these and the odds of drawing it are really, really tiny…"

***

Tiny my butt.

Newt looked at the endless wall stretching all the way into the clouds above and the mist below. Another rock was falling. He summoned the triple-layered Granite Crust and generated as much heat ahead of himself, hoping the scalding air might change the falling rock's path, then he braced himself for impact.

Hot air influenced the rock as much as anyone would expect. Thousands of pounds of stone smashed into Newt's back, flattening him against the tower, and pulling him down to scrape his chest against what must have been a diamond grater.

Muttering curses, Newt looked down, then up, and after confirming no new rocks were coming to get him, he continued his ascent. He tried not to. He knew he shouldn't, but he had to. Against his better judgment, Newt glanced left.

He bit his lip for the fifth time. There, some lucky inner student Newt didn't even know, had gotten to climb a ladder. A ladder. With stone steps and rails as handholds. By the time Newt had climbed thirty feet, the inner student was long gone in the cloud.

Newt had originally expected the climb would be simplicity itself for him. He would simply create hot air beneath his clothes to propel himself upwards. Combined with his enhanced body, reaching the top should have been child's play; regardless of how difficult his track was.

Originally, he thought the difficulty was in the jagged, impossibly tough spikes jutting from the wall. Then the rocks fell.

The first one came as a tingling of his danger sense, and Newt hugged the wall at the last possible moment. The rock dragged him down over a hundred feet, undoing all his previous effort.

So, Newt continued slowly. Glancing up every handful of seconds, hugging the wall, and getting his Granite Crust shredded against it. Progress was slow, painful, and infuriating because the person next to him had gotten a damn ladder, while the one to the right got a normal sheer cliff. He couldn't see much further to either side, not without risking his fall, but he had the feeling he had drawn the worst lot, like always in his life.

Huh. This really is like life. You're going forward, facing adversity, with unknown threats looming over you, tossed by someone you don't see and probably never will. And regardless of how everything seems to be outside your control, you always have a choice. Climb, rest, or let go.

Newt thought he was onto something deep. Then he clung to the wall and let the rock smash against his back and press him into the spikes.

Or maybe someone was just a sadist; facing their imminent death, they decided to spread their misery all around. Maybe getting a final laugh out of it. I wonder whether the realm guardian is watching me?

The rock seemed eager to prove Newt right and pressed him against the wall extra hard. A breath later, it was gone, and Newt kept climbing.

An hour after the trial's start, Newt felt a bout of weakness. His limbs grew clumsier, and the invisible ground infinitely down below seemed to pull at him with double the previous force.

Newt stopped. A dizzy spell struck him, and he wondered whether he had reached some milestone height. He gingerly moved his hand to the next handhold, making sure not to cut himself, before moving his legs and pulling himself up.

Newt had barely climbed a handful of yards when a familiar face appeared in the track left to his and climbed the ladder almost at a running pace. Newt gazed in confusion, shook his head, and continued the climb.

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