The golem lumbered forward, its movements deliberate and heavy, each grinding step echoing through the chamber. My heart raced as it gripped its hammer in both hands, raising it for a horizontal swing. The attack was slow—painfully slow—and Bravery didn’t even bother to warn me. I took a quick step back, easily avoiding the arc as it whooshed past.

It followed with the same sluggish strike, its stone arms straining under the weight of the massive hammer. “Right,” I muttered, more annoyed than afraid. “A trial for initiates.”

I casually circled the golem, the sledgehammer still in my grip. “Am I supposed to just smash it?” Stepping inside its telegraphed swing, I raised the hammer and brought it down on its leg with all the force I could muster.

A sharp crack of energy erupted from the impact, red light rippling through the golem. Bravery’s warning flared in my mind just as it toppled to one knee, a soft chime ringing through the room.

I blinked at the now-inert figure. “What, that’s it?” My eyes flicked to the door, where the exit panel glowed faintly, waiting for a mana infusion. Was that seriously all it took? I’d expected more from a Power trial.

A thought struck me, and I grinned. Was it based on how hard I hit the anvil?

Returning to it, I hefted the hammer and slammed it down with everything I had, including as much mana as my arms could take. This time, the clang reverberated through the chamber, deep and resonant. A tangible wave of energy blasted outward, sliding me back a meter.

The golem surged to life again, rising with an unsettling smoothness. This time, Bravery screamed at me as it moved. Something was very different.

The golem closed the gap faster than before, its hammer swinging with alarming speed. I dodged back just in time, the air whistling past my face. Before I could recover, it stepped forward with unnerving precision, bringing its hammer down in a crushing vertical arc.

“Oh shit!” I threw myself sideways, the ground shaking violently as the hammer struck. The impact sent cracks out across the floor with a deafening shockwave that rattled my teeth.

Okay, this wasn’t a training dummy anymore. The golem was dangerous—deadly. That last hit might have killed me outright, or at least made me wish it had. My grip on the hammer tightened as I scrambled to my feet.

“What the hell is going on?” I muttered, my eyes locked on the lumbering stone figure.

The golem didn’t hesitate, closing the gap with deliberate, grinding steps. I kept moving, circling out of its range and trying to buy myself time. I needed a plan—a real one—not just dodging and hoping it would get bored.

Sighing, I let it get closer, hammer ready. If it kept swinging slow like that, maybe I could meet its attack head-on and push past. As the horizontal strike came around, I swung with everything I had, aiming to deflect the blow.

The impact was blinding. My vision flashed white, and my boots skidded against the ground as I spun, nearly losing my footing. The force of the clash numbed my arms, and I had to shake it off to refocus. The golem was reeling too, though, its movements slower as it recovered from the clash.

I laughed, despite myself. “I really need to solve this shoe problem.”

With a quick motion, I stored my armor and swapped it for my standard linen clothes. “Hope Dara doesn’t get mad,” I said under my breath.

If she was watching, nothing changed. The golem lumbered toward me again, hammer at the ready. But now, without the stiff armor, I felt lighter, more connected to the ground. My feet stuck to the cold stone like I belonged there. If that hammer caught me, armor wouldn’t do much to help anyway. Plus, I could feel it now—the air was thick with mana, like static just hanging in the air.

Grinning, I tightened my grip on the hammer and waited for the golem to swing. As the horizontal arc came at me, I met it head-on with a full-force strike of my own.

This time, I held my ground better. I still slid, but not as much, and though my arms burned from the shock of the impact, I stayed upright. My vision blurred for a moment, but I’d won the trade.

The golem staggered, its hammer knocked off course, leaving a wide opening. I dashed forward, dodging past its guard and swinging hard. My hammer connected squarely between its legs, a direct hit that sent an explosion of red energy rippling through its body.

The golem toppled backward, crashing to the ground with a thunderous impact that shook the entire room. A bone-shaking gong rang out in the room.

Breathing hard, I stepped back, staring at the now-motionless figure. “Well,” I muttered between breaths, “guess that’s one way to do it.”

Feeling pretty smug, I started for the door. But as I moved, a nagging thought struck me. Sure, that was more challenging than the first go-round, but it was still over too quickly. I glanced back at the anvil, realization dawning.

I stopped mid-stride, turning back to the anvil. A stupid idea was forming, the kind of reckless plan I’d been thinking of a lot lately, but they had been paying off. There was so much mana in the air—it practically buzzed against my skin. Maybe I could hold Valor for longer here. Dara had said she’d pull us out if we were defeated… hopefully that meant before I got squished.

“Well, dumb ideas seem to be the theme of the week,” I muttered, activating Valor. Mana rushed into the sigil like water through a broken dam, but the ambient energy in the room helped balance the cost. I could feel it, like a tide pushing back against the vacuum. It wasn’t sustainable forever, but I had time.

Grinning, I hefted the hammer and slammed it down on the anvil with everything Valor could provide.

The explosion was instant. A shockwave of raw energy ripped through the room, sending me flying backwards. I slammed into the wall with a thud that knocked the wind out of me, but the pain barely registered. Valor absorbed most of the impact, leaving me dazed but otherwise fine.

Then I heard it—the grinding roar of stone. My eyes snapped to the golem as it pushed itself upright, red runes blazing across its surface. And now it was sprinting.

“Uh oh,” I breathed, my heart hammering. Valor screamed at me to move, and I obeyed. I leaped aside, moving faster than I’d ever thought possible, the air itself seeming to part around me. I landed with a skid, spinning to watch as the golem’s hammer smashed into the wall. The impact left a gaping hole, and chunks of stone rained down around us.

“This was a mistake!” I shouted, already turning toward the door. My steps were unnervingly quick, each stride propelling me forward like I’d been shot from a cannon. In just a few paces, I was leaping over the anvil, making a desperate break for the exit.

Then, inspiration struck.

I tried to stop, but with the momentum I’d built, it was more of a skid-hop combo. My feet scraped against the floor as I wheeled back, ending up on top of the anvil in two steps. The golem was on me instantly, its hammer swinging in a horizontal arc from the left. Valor flared, and my legs burned with the sudden burst of energy as I launched into the air, executing a backflip so smooth it felt like something out of a martial arts movie.

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I landed just as the golem brought the hammer around for a vertical strike. My foot slipped on the angled surface of the anvil, and I teetered. Panicked, I shoved more mana into my feet than my pathways could handle. A burst of blue energy exploded from beneath me, sending me rocketing backward as the hammer came crashing down.

I hit the ground hard, sliding across the stone and feeling the scrape against my back. Gritting my teeth, I looked up just in time to see the golem’s hammer collide with the anvil.

The sound that followed was deafening—a chime so deep and resonant it seemed to shake the very air around me. The room vibrated, the energy exploding outwards, and for a split second, everything froze. Then the red runes on the golem flared brilliantly and began to crack.

“Uh… did I just break it?” I muttered, half-expecting it to keep coming.

Instead, the golem shuddered, its movements slowing as pieces of stone fell away. The hammer clattered to the ground, and with a final groan, the massive figure crumbled into dust.

Breathing heavily, I sat up, staring at the remains. “Okay, that was definitely a mistake,” I said to no one in particular. But despite myself, I grinned. It might’ve been reckless, but hey—it worked.

I forced myself to my feet, my body aching, and started toward the crumbled remains of the golem when a noise behind me made me freeze.

“Hmph.”

I spun around to see Dara standing there, hand outstretched. Before I could react, she flicked her fingers, and just like that, Valor fizzled out in my mind. The torrent of mana feeding it calmed instantly, leaving an odd stillness behind.

“Whoa, how’d you do that?” I asked, still catching my breath.

She smirked. “I’ll give you a hint—if you tell me how you figured out the activation tiers. And I’ll give you something extra if you tell me how you knew to make it hit the anvil.”

I blinked at her, caught off guard, then shrugged. “I didn’t. Honestly, I just played a lot of video games growing up. The first hit was a wuss, so it made sense to me that if I pushed harder, something would happen.”

“Video games?” she repeated, tilting her head.

“Uh, simulations of things. But you’re kind of watching someone do things like this trial,” I explained, stumbling over my words. “And as for the anvil? That wasn’t a stretch. It had a hammer, I had a hammer—what happens if I get it to hit the anvil instead of me?”

“A calculation of hammers?” Dara asked, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose I can see the connection now.”

“I guess?” I hesitated. “It felt more like spotting a pattern.”

She stared at me like I’d sprouted an extra head. “That’s not normal.”

I shrugged again. “It is where I come from.”

Dara sighed, shaking her head as if resigning herself to the absurdity of my explanation. She turned toward the pile of dust where the golem had been and waved her hand over it. “Your Valor Seal will not obey you until it’s fully bound to your soul. Until then, it’ll keep burning your mana endlessly. I would strongly advise against using it unless absolutely necessary. Running out of mana during a mana burn can scorch your soul—and that’s not something a few healing potions will fix. You’ll need to improve your natural mana regeneration and flow before you’ll have a chance at binding a Seal that strong.”

As she spoke, the anvil melted into the ground, its solid form softening into liquid metal. In its place rose a small bonsai tree, its gnarled branches tipped with soft golden-yellow leaves that seemed to sparkle faintly in the light. The tree radiated an ancient, almost sacred energy.

Dara stepped forward and snapped off a branch with deliberate care, cradling it like it was precious. The anvil reformed behind her as if it had never disappeared.

“This tree is known as Titan’s Root. It has a strong effect on one’s mana pathways. But every time a branch is removed, the tree takes years to regenerate,” she said, handing me the branch. “Steep it into a tea and drink it. Then meditate. You’ll want to do this immediately—its leaves won’t survive a portal, not even in your mana sanctum.” She paused, giving me a knowing smile. “And when you’re done, perhaps your familiar will enjoy chewing on the stick.”

“Thanks, Dara.”

I blinked, and she was simply gone.

Sighing, I looked down at the small twig in my hand and sniffed it. The scent reminded me a little of cardamom. Shrugging, I turned and made my way to the exit, the doors sliding open with only a slight tug of mana.

Outside, a small crowd had gathered. Red was front and center, tail wagging, and even Cass had shown up.

“No way… You solved it?” Cass ran up to me and socked me in the shoulder. “Of course you did.”

I glanced around and noticed a few of the initiates waiting their turn, all staring at me.

“They can’t believe it, but I sure can,” Cass said, beaming. “After everything I’ve seen you do.” Her grin widened. “I think the last person to fully solve the Trial of Power was Maris-fucking-Valerian herself!”

“Really? I mean, it wasn’t that…” I stopped myself. Saying it wasn’t that hard felt wrong, especially since Dara had seemed to think it was supposed to be, even with the golem’s hammer nearly squashing me. “Hey, do you know how I can make some tea?”

“Tea?” Cass asked, her brow furrowing. I held up the twig Dara had given me, and her eyes practically bulged out of her head. She spun to the small group of initiates nearby.

“Does anyone have anything that can hold water? A kettle, maybe?”

A Floran man reached into a backpack and pulled out a small copper pot. “I’ve got this. What’s it for?”

Cass shot him a look. “Titan’s Root,” she said, her tone almost reverent. The man’s eyes widened to mirror hers as he handed the pot over without a word.

“Okay, now we just need water and a way to heat it…”

“Cass,” I interrupted, grabbing her arm and steering her up the stairs to the pavilion. Red padded along behind us, his goofy, tongue-lolling grin plastered across his face like always.

I gestured to the water cascading into the pool at the pavilion’s center.

“Oh,” Cass said, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry, there’s just too much to be excited about right now.”

I fished a handful of lantern orbs from my earring and crouched by the pool, scooping up some water into the copper pot. Placing it on the glowing orbs, I adjusted their internal runes until they radiated heat. The water began to steam almost instantly.

A week ago, using three of these at once would have drained me dry. Now? I barely felt the strain.

Grinning, I steeped the twig in the water, watching as the golden leaves dissolved completely, leaving the liquid a faint, shimmering yellow.

“Excited about more than this?” I asked, motioning to the tea as it steeped. “Is that why you were late?”

Cass glanced around, her excitement bubbling over. “I think I’ve found a Seal candidate.”

“Oh shit!” I grinned and returned the arm punch. “Tell me everything.”

She beamed, practically vibrating with energy. “Chas told me about this guy he met on another world. He had speed like me but could stab a single white stick out of thousands of identical black ones—all falling through the air at the same time.”

“Precision?” I asked, dipping the twig in and out of the hot water impatiently.

“That’s part of it, yeah. Combined? Acumen. Swiftness, decisiveness, and precision.” Cass smiled so genuinely it felt almost out of character.

“I can’t wait to see it!”

Red stuck his nose under my arm, sniffing curiously at the steam wafting from the tea. He promptly sat down and let out his signature rumble-honk—a sound that unmistakably meant he wanted something.

“Alright, alright,” I muttered, grabbing what was left of the twig and holding it out to him. He snatched it shamelessly, chomping down with over-exaggerated smacks of his lips.

“You seem to know what this is,” I said, gesturing at the pot. “Any idea what it does?”

“I grew up on a farm; of course I know what Titan’s Root is.” Cass rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “It’s a rare type of tree that helps with mana flow. I had no idea there was one in Sylvarus, though. I guess it makes sense that you don’t have it on Earth.”

“Hey, we had something that looked like it, at least,” I said, lifting the pot to smell the tea again. “Want some?”

“Gaia’s tits, no! That’s your reward. And this time, I mean it. You have to drink it all anyway. The more of the leaves you infuse, the better.”

“Alright, alright. Give me a minute.” I took a cautious sip of the steaming tea. It wasn’t too hot and had a surprisingly pleasant taste—though I couldn’t help but think it could use some honey. Before I realized it, I’d drained the whole pot, almost like I couldn’t stop drinking.

I lowered the pot and glanced at Cass, who was watching me expectantly.

“I don’t really feel anything,” I admitted, and she seemed to deflate slightly.

“Oh, wait—I’m supposed to meditate.”

“Good! Do that, and I’ll take this pot back to Michael.” Cass stood, brushing her hands off. “I’m next in the Grace trial, so I’ll be back shortly.”

I nodded and turned toward the pool, focusing on the sound of the falling water. “Good luck, Cass! I’ll just be here, doing nothing.”

Her laughter echoed as she descended the stairs.

Red padded over and flopped down next to me, pressing his warm body against my leg and smacking his lips like he’d just finished a feast. Smiling, I rested a hand on his side, running my fingers through his fur as I closed my eyes, letting the soothing sounds of the pavilion wash over me.

At first, my mind struggled to settle into the usual rhythm of meditation. It felt like something was pulling me away, drawing my attention somewhere more surface-level. My focus shifted, zeroing in on my mana pathways.

I gasped, startled as mana pulsed through me in sync with my breathing, each wave impossibly fast. In my mind’s eye, I saw them—what had once been simple roads—evolving into a complex network of branches and crossroads. Every connection hummed with life as mana surged through them, moving in perfect, rhythmic waves.

It wasn’t just power; it was a part of me now, like my heartbeat or the air in my lungs.

I focused inwards to my mana reserves and could tell that the benefit was immediately clear. The rate at which I was regenerating mana from the air was orders of magnitude larger than what it was before. I was sure, at least in this trial area, that I could keep Valor going indefinitely.

It was going to be an interesting week.