"Of cultivators and mages, the hearts of mortals are ever torn between awe and terror. For in the former, we perceive the pinnacle of human potential, the hope of ascending to heights unimaginable. Yet in the latter, we glimpse a darkness that threatens to consume all that we hold dear.

Could it be that the whispered fear of mages is but the work of envious cultivators, seeking to maintain their lofty status? Or do our souls tremble with an instinctive recognition of the chasm that lies between the mortal and the arcane?"

Scholar Caen of Bo in his published work, Musings on the Nature of Power.

4865 MA.

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4522 MA

Yoku Arena, Rovos, Kartas

Vyas had come to the realization that he much preferred being in the event than the one watching. The tension of watching trialists test themselves was exhilarating, but also extremely nerve-wracking.

He found himself seated within the city's grandest fighting arena, a vast expanse of stone encircled by towering walls and huge seating areas. The Auberon Institute had rented it for the entire month to host the first cultivation trial.

For hours, Vyas had been bewitched by the spectacle that unfolded before him, his eyes wide with wonder as he bore witness to an array of talented and driven individuals, each striving to prove their worth. The task was simple in theory, but challenging in execution: the trialists were to face a colossal magical golem, a towering construct of enchanted stone and metal, and attempt to incapacitate it.

Spectators packed the benches that surrounded the battleground, their voices a mix of excitement and anticipation. The air was heavy with the scent of sweat and the sharp tang of fear. As each trialist entered the arena, their faces shone with either fear or determination, reflecting the confidence they had in their abilities.

Vyas had seen all manner of people attempt to best the golem. Most had failed, the power of the construct proving too much for their skills and strength. Thankfully, failure was not an automatic rejection in this trial. The trial was measured not by the trialist’s ability to defeat the golem but by how they fought and just how long they could last.

In all this time, Vyas had only seen three trialists manage to achieve the unthinkable and defeat the golem. The first trialist was a lithe, graceful archer. She was dressed in lightweight leather armor, and her eyes were as sharp as the arrows she loosed. Her aim was impeccable as she whittled away at the golem's health with each carefully placed shot. She moved with the ease of a dancer, her steps light and fluid as she evaded the golem's crushing blows with the ease of a leaf caught in a breeze. The audience gasped and sighed as the archer's agile form repeatedly escaped the golem's attacks by mere inches. Despite some whispers of boredom that murmured through the audience, Vyas found himself entranced by her swift movements.

The second trialist to claim victory over the golem was a diminutive man with the audacity to wield not one, but two swords that appeared to be nearly as tall as he was. His raven-black hair framed a face that was as sharp and focused as the blades he wielded, his eyes betraying a steely resolve. As he roamed across the arena floor, his swords seemed to move as extensions of his own body, each strike and parry initiated with a deliberate amount of power. The golem roared, a guttural sound that seemed to reverberate through the very air, as it swung its massive arms in a furious, relentless barrage of attacks. Yet, the dual-sword wielder was undeterred, his blades slicing through the air in a blur of steel as he carved his way to victory. It was a breathtaking display that left Vyas awestruck, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the young man claim his hard-fought triumph.

The final trialist whose triumph Vyas had witnessed was a veritable mountain of a man. The trialist walked into the arena with a towering frame and bulging muscles, leaving no doubt amongst the audience about his immense strength. Clutched in his massive hands was an axe that seemed almost comically large, its gleaming blade promising swift and brutal destruction. As the man strode into the arena, there was a palpable sense of anticipation in the air, the crowd holding their collective breath as they waited for the inevitable clash of titans.

When it came, it was over in the space of a heartbeat. The giant man swung his axe with a force that seemed to defy reality, cleaving the golem in two as though it were little more than a piece of bread ripped by a child. The impact of the blow sent a shockwave rippling across the arena floor, echoing through the stands. The silence that followed was deafening, the crowd too stunned to react to the abrupt and decisive conclusion of the battle. And then, as the giant man raised his arms in triumph, a deafening roar of approval erupted from the stands, the people of Rovos rising to cheer the titan who had felled the golem in a single, earth-shattering blow. Vyas felt the energy and excitement course through the crowd, as he watched the victor leave the arena with a proud grin, his heart pounding with the thrill of the moment.

Over the next hour, Vyas watched as half a dozen more trialists took their places on the unforgiving sands of the arena. Each fought valiantly, their hearts brimming with hope and desperation as they sought to prove their worth before the implacable golem. One was a curly-haired woman who commanded a whip that seemed to crackle with electricity, her movements fluid and unpredictable, like the lightning she wielded. Another was a stoic warrior whose body was covered of scars. He fought with the relentless, unyielding fury of a storm, his twin hammers ringing out with the sound of thunder as they struck the golem's stone and metal form.

Vyas found himself caught up in the tide of emotion that surged through the arena, the collective hopes and dreams of the trialists resonating with his own. The air was electric, charged with the raw energy of ambition and desire, the very essence of what it meant to be alive.

The atmosphere in the arena began to feel almost monotonous, and Vyas was starting to think that he had seen all that the trial had to offer. That was when he saw her - a familiar figure striding confidently onto the arena floor, her long, silver hair like a shimmering banner that made her instantly recognizable. It was Maya.

As she walked, her gaze swept through the stands, eventually locking onto Vyas with an intensity that was as fierce as it was disconcerting. She shot him an angry glare, her eyes seeming to say, "You better be watching closely." Vyas couldn't help but chuckle, recalling his earlier comment to her about her slim chances of defeating the golem.

The arena seemed to hold its breath as Maya stood before the golem, a hush of anticipation falling over the crowd. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft whisper of the wind and the distant murmurs of the spectators.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

And then, in an explosion of motion, the battle began.

In the blink of an eye, Maya sprang into action, her lithe form a blur as she darted towards the golem. She had chosen to forgo any weapons, relying instead on her own body to take on the massive construct. As she closed the distance between herself and the hulking golem, Vyas could see the deadly focus in her eyes, the unwavering resolve that had carried her through countless trials and tribulations.

The golem, perhaps sensing the threat that Maya posed, swung a massive arm in a wide arc, seeking to swat her aside like an insect. But Maya was not to be caught so easily. Like a leaf caught in a sudden gust of wind, she twisted her body and evaded the crushing blow by a hair's breadth. Her movements were fluid and deliberate, rendering the golem's attacks futile as she danced through its defenses.

As the battle raged on, the golem seemed to grow increasingly desperate in its attempts to pin Maya down. It lunged at her with crushing force, its massive fists slamming into the ground where she had stood mere moments before, sending tremors through the arena. Yet Maya remained undeterred, her body only grazed by the golem's relentless assault.

Changing tactics, the golem swung its leg in a sweeping arc, seeking to catch Maya off guard and knock her off her feet. But she was prepared for this, her body bending and twisting as she leaped over the golem's attack with breathtaking agility. The crowd gasped in awe, the tension in the arena palpable as they collectively held their breath, waiting for her next move.

Maya, now poised in midair, used the momentum of her leap to deliver a powerful kick to the golem's unguarded face. The force of her strike sent a spiderweb of fractures spreading across the construct's stone visage. As she landed, she pivoted gracefully, her silver hair whipping around her like a battle standard, and landed a flurry of punches and kicks on the golem's now-cracked exterior.

The golem, undaunted by the onslaught, roared and rolled its massive shoulders, as if preparing to unleash some devastating power. The air crackled around it, the ground beneath its feet beginning to tremble in response to the surge of magical energy that coursed through the construct's body. In a flash, the golem unleashed an immense shockwave, the force of which tore through the battleground.

Maya steeled herself against the force of the attack, her muscles straining as she steadied herself against the raw power that threatened to tear her from her feet. Her eyes burned with determination, focused on the golem's battered form as she countered with her own plan.

As the shockwave dissipated and the dust momentarily obscured both Maya and the golem from the crowd's vision, she launched herself into the air again. Her movements were bold and precise, her speed seemingly unaffected by the golem's attack. Twisting her body mid-flight, she struck out at the golem's eyes with a series of well-aimed blows, targeting its already-weakened face.

The golem staggered back, its damaged eyes flickering as it tried to regain its bearings. But Maya was relentless, using every ounce of her strength and agility to press her advantage. She rained down a hailstorm of punches and kicks on the golem, her strikes landing with precise force that carved deep fissures in the construct's body.

The golem fought back with renewed ferocity, swinging its limbs wildly, fueled by a combination of rage and desperation. The golem, fully committed to its mighty swing, appeared to have finally predicted Maya's movements. Its massive fist quickly closed the distance towards her with startling speed, no longer a wild strike, but a calculated attack. Maya, eyes wide with realization, attempted to evade, but the golem's accuracy prevailed, and its fist slammed into her shoulder.

A sickening crunch echoed throughout the arena as the sheer power of the impact sent Maya hurtling through the air, her body a blur as she landed far from the enraged construct. The crowd gasped in shock and murmurs of concern rippled through the stands. Maya lay on the arena floor, her breaths heavy and pained, as her shoulder throbbed with agony, clearly injured.

The tension in the arena was palpable. Many believed that Maya had been defeated, that the pain and exhaustion had finally taken its toll. But Vyas, his heart pounding in his chest, clenched his fists with a fervent belief. He knew that Maya was far from finished.

Slowly, agonizingly, Maya began to rise, her body shaking with the effort as the golem lumbered closer towards her prone form. Vyas's eyes darted to the side, noticing the instructor responsible for officiating these matches was prepared to declare the end of the match. Ready to intervene before the golem could deliver a final, crushing blow.

The crowd held its collective breath, anticipation and worry hanging heavily in the air. As Maya forced herself to stand, she wiped her face with her right hand, clearing away the dirt and sweat that obscured her vision.

Her left arm hung uselessly by her side, its angle a gruesome testimony to the damage caused by the golem's powerful strike. Recognizing it had been dislocated, Maya gritted her teeth, determination and pain etched upon her face. With a swift and undoubtedly excruciating motion, she used her right hand to pop her left arm back into its socket. The crowd gasped in shock and awe at her resilience.

A renewed fire danced in Maya's eyes as she faced the approaching golem, her previous exhaustion now fueled by rage. As the distance closed between them, she charged towards the construct with renewed urgency, her pain only amplifying her desire for victory.

Her earlier blows had taught her that the head was its weakest point. As the golem drew closer, she took a running start and pushed off against the grounds soaring high above the construct. As she reached the apex of her leap, she positioned herself directly above the golem's head, her eyes locked on her target with unwavering determination.

With a fierce cry, she descended upon the golem like a falcon swooping in for the kill. Her fists became instruments of destruction, raining down a barrage of punches upon the golem's skull with a speed and ferocity that seemed impossible. The sound of her blows echoed through the arena, like the steady beat of a war drum heralding the approach of an unstoppable force.

The golem reeled beneath the onslaught, its once-imposing form now buckling under the relentless fury of Maya's attacks. It thrashed wildly, attempting to throw her off, but she clung to its head, her legs wrapped tightly around its neck as she continued to rain down blows upon its battered form.

The air in the arena was thick with tension and anticipation, the crowd on the edge of their seats as they watched the battle unfold. As the golem's movements grew more erratic and uncoordinated, it became clear that it would not be able to withstand Maya's assault for much longer. A collective sense of expectation began to build, the crowd's murmurs growing louder and more urgent as they sensed that the end was near.

With a final, resounding blow, Maya shattered the golem's skull, sending shards of enchanted stone and metal flying in every direction. The construct's body began to tremble and convulse, the magic that had held it together unraveling like a frayed thread caught in a gale. And then, with a deafening crash, the golem collapsed, its once-mighty form now little more than a heap of rubble and twisted metal.

The arena erupted in a deafening roar of approval, the cheers and shouts of the crowd washing over Maya like a tidal wave. Sweat glistened on her brow, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stood atop the ruins of her vanquished foe, her eyes blazing with the fire of victory.

As the dust settled and the golem's remains lay scattered across the arena floor, Vyas rose to his feet, his hands coming together in thunderous applause.

The crowd continued to cheer as Maya made her way out of the arena, the echoes of their roaring approval following her every step. As she reached the edge of the arena, she turned to look at Vyas once more, her eyes locked on his with an intensity that was both fierce and triumphant. The glare she shot him was one of satisfaction, as if to say, "I told you so."

Vyas could only shake his head and grin.