Valor burned inside me like liquid fire as I stepped into the circle with the golem. I narrowed my aura, focusing solely on the stone construct until everything else faded away. I'd never properly tested this level of focus with my Seal before—the difference was immediate and intoxicating.

  My awareness sharpened beyond anything I'd experienced, extending into the fight itself until I could feel the very air between us. The most noticeable change was that my Seal started draining a steady trickle of mana the moment my focus locked onto the construct.

  The golem moved—faster than before, but now I could track every micro-movement. I was already on the offensive, swinging Winchester down hard, only for the golem's staff to intercept with a sharp crack. Valor screamed a warning as its leg snapped upward in a brutal kick that would've caved in ribs. I barely knocked it aside mid-motion, spinning as I angled another strike from Winchester.

  The golem matched me perfectly—countering every move, blow for blow, strike for strike. With every attack I dodged, it adjusted, twisting in ways that shouldn't have been anatomically possible. We went back and forth in a deadly dance, perfectly matched opponents—until I finally stepped back, catching my breath.

  My pulse hammered, but I wasn't just keeping up. I was thriving.

  "You don't,

  "Fuck off, Ted," I muttered, but I was done trading blows. Moving had become effortless with my Seal fully engaged, mana pulsing through my body like a second heartbeat. Time to push it further—see exactly what I was capable of now.

  Spinning a staff had always been second nature, but now it was something else entirely. Winchester felt like an extension of my will, so perfectly balanced that when I sent it whirling through the air, the orb hummed with resonance, carving brilliant arcs through space.

  Then I struck.

  Winchester slammed into the golem's staff, and for the first time, it staggered. The sheer force knocked it off-balance before it snapped back with a vicious counterattack. I blocked easily and followed up immediately, pushing the attack harder, faster, better.

  The construct wasn't keeping up anymore—or maybe I was just moving that much faster.

  With a blinding spin, Winchester cracked into the golem's weapon. The moment it moved to counter, I dropped low and kicked it square in the chest with everything I had, my other foot anchored to the floor with mana.

  A shockwave of force exploded outward. The golem flew backward like it had been hit by a cannonball, crashing onto its back with a sound like a building falling over.

  I straightened, waiting for the trial to signal victory.

  Nothing.

  I frowned. "What, no gong? No confetti? Nothing?"

  The golem stood up, rolling its shoulders as its head tilted with disturbing curiosity. Then, with a motion that made my stomach drop, its arms split into four distinct limbs. Blue runes flared to life across its body like circuit boards, sending a deep tremor through the room that I felt in my bones.

  It spun its staff, passing it effortlessly between all four hands. The movement started slow, deliberate—then picked up speed until the surrounding air vibrated with raw intensity. A low hum resonated through the mirrored walls as the staff became a blur of deadly motion.

  "Oh, come on!" I yelled at the universe.

  "Now you fucked up!

  "Fuck off, Ted!" I practically screamed this time.

  Focusing through Valor, I could feel the shift—the golem was now significantly more dangerous. Not Maris or Chas’s level, but definitely a Jeremy-level threat. The kind that could actually hurt me if I screwed up.

  If I thought about it in terms of the power levels Cass had explained, what was this thing now? An Adept? A Master? Or did it follow monster classifications instead? I had no frame of reference except the primal understanding that the wrong move would get me seriously hurt.

  Dara had said she'd stop trials if anyone got injured. So why wasn't she stopping this?

  Grinning despite myself, I spun Winchester and approached the golem cautiously. It locked onto me immediately, its spinning pattern speeding up into something I could barely follow, even with Valor's enhanced perception.

  I took a deep breath, then shoved as much mana into my legs as they could handle, rocketing toward the golem like a human missile.

  It reacted instantly, bringing its staff down to crack my skull. I pivoted, sensing another arm swinging for me—no, two arms. The golem twisted impossibly, all four limbs moving to trap me in a cage of stone and steel.

  I shoved its lead arm away with more effort than I liked and spun around it, aiming to strike with Winchester. But the golem was already there, its entire body twisting to meet my attack and counter in one seamless motion.

  No matter how fast I moved, it was like fighting my shadow. It wasn't just reacting—it was anticipating, like it knew exactly what I was about to do and was already positioned to stop me.

  Its staff whistled through the air, and I barely caught it with Winchester before pivoting away from a sudden jab—followed by an impossibly fast kick. I dodged as best I could, but my stance staggered under the relentless pressure.

  Before I could recover, a backhand caught me square in the chest.

  I rocketed through the air, slammed into the mirrored wall hard enough to spider-web the surface, and bounced off, twisting just before I hit the ground to land on my shoulder. The armor absorbed most of the impact, but the sheer force of the backhand had overwhelmed its protection. I could already see the warped scales where it had struck.

  "Fuck's sake, I just got this armor!" I yelled at the golem, pushing myself to my feet.

  Winchester hummed quietly in my hands, and I blinked as Chas's words echoed in my mind—words from what felt like ages ago, even though it had only been a week and a half.

  I remembered what the staff had done to a Glid before it ran out of power. But now? I was the power—at least, I thought I was. Up to this point, I'd been fighting like Winchester was just a staff, but the orb at the end was something else entirely.

  Time to test it out.

  Shifting my grip, I lowered my stance, ready to wield Winchester more like a spear than a quarterstaff.

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  The golem reacted immediately, lunging forward with a furious series of strikes. But with my new grip, I had the reach advantage. I backpedaled, parrying blows and searching for an opening.

  Valor screamed in warning, and I ducked just as the golem hurled its staff at me with brutal force, almost as if in anger. I heard it smash into the wall behind me with a thunderous crack.

  I thrust Winchester forward, and the golem moved to catch the orb in its hand like it was swatting a fly.

  At the last second, I felt a massive tug of mana—the orb flared to life, and a resounding tone echoed through the chamber like a bell tolling.

  An explosion of orange light erupted from the impact. The force launched the golem sideways, stone limbs cracking like broken pottery. My mana-enhanced feet skidded backward, sliding across the polished floor as the sheer energy of the attack pushed me away from the blast zone.

  The golem was hurled off its feet, skidding across the floor with a grinding scrape before coming to a stop against the far wall. When it rose, one of its arms was completely gone, along with a chunk of its torso.

  It tilted its head at me in a disturbingly lifelike motion before striding over to where its staff was embedded in the wall. Without hesitation, it yanked the weapon free, the stone groaning as it slid from its crater.

  I exhaled sharply. I could probably manage one or two more blasts before I was completely drained. Ever since forming my Seal, everything seemed to cost so much fucking mana.

  "Get a load of this guy!Kid's got an ancient artifact, and he's complaining about energy costs.

  Before I could respond, the golem was already sprinting toward me at insane speed. I barely parried its staff, but the momentum shoved me backward. I kicked off the golem, trying to create distance, and stabbed forward with Winchester.

  It dodged—almost completely—but something was off. The way it moved, the way it avoided me... it wasn't just dodging. It didn't even want to be near the orb.

  We clashed again, attacking and countering in near-perfect rhythm. But then my foot slipped mid-transition between forms, and the golem instantly took advantage—sweeping my legs out from under me.

  I hit the ground hard, feeling more impact than I should have. The armor was failing—the scales only absorbed so much before breaking down.

  The golem raised its staff, poised to slam it down on my skull—and I had a thought.

  Winchester reacted before I'd even fully formed it, the orb snapping into a long, brilliant blade in an instant.

  I brought it up to defend just as the staff came crashing down, and the blade sliced through the stone like it was warm butter. The golem staggered as the severed half of its weapon clattered to the floor.

  It backed up as I got to my feet, tossing aside the ruined weapon in an oddly exaggerated motion. The broken staff flew through the air... impossibly slow.

  It took me a moment to realize—it wasn't just the staff.

  Everything around me was slowing down, and I wasn't excluded from the effect.

  Inside my pathways, that tiny thread of white refined mana was flaring wildly, like it was desperately trying to escape through my hands—toward Winchester. It seemed frantic, like it was trying to scream at me it could help.

  I hesitated for a heartbeat, remembering just how much mana it took to make that microscopic thread, before pushing my will into it.

  The mana slid through my hand and into the staff, and Winchester ignited—an explosion of white electricity crackling across the blade like lightning.

  Then, as suddenly as it started, time snapped back to normal.

  I awkwardly swung the blade at the distant golem. A blinding arc of white light erupted from the tip—so fast I barely registered it—before vanishing into harmless sparks.

  Silence.

  "Well, shit, that was anticlimactic,

  And then the golem slid apart—cleanly bisected in two, diagonally. The wall behind it bore the same flawless cut, sliced clean through.

  "Oh! Holy shit!

  I stared at the destruction, mind reeling. Fuck me, I need to make more of that mana.

  Flourishing Winchester, I willed it back into orb form, expecting some kind of victory fanfare.

  Instead, that now-familiar upside-down sensation hit, and suddenly I was standing in the pavilion.

  Diana looked up, surprised—it was just her and Red lounging in the afternoon sun.

  "Nope." Dara's voice came from directly behind me. I spun around.

  "It's not happening again, so don't even complain. You cheated. There's no way a Seeker can do... whatever that was."

  I blinked. "You know, that's the second time today someone's accused me of cheating—as if I have any clue what I'm doing."

  "What the fuck is going on?" Diana demanded, rising from her chair like a storm cloud gathering.

  Dara groaned dramatically. "He just defeated an early Master-level golem using some bizarre energy that I couldn't contain with the trial barriers. It hurt." She pointed at Winchester with obvious distrust. "And that staff of his isn't normal either. I can sense a spiritual resonance—and he didn't have it last time."

  I furrowed my brow. "Wait, Master tier? The thing had four arms!"

  "Low-Master," Diana corrected, shooting me a look just before Winchester's orb flared to life.

  "Oh, it's not a resonance you're feeling, toots. You're sensing a deep connection between you and me."

  Ted materialized behind Dara with his trademark shit-eating grin, matching her appearing-out-of-nowhere habit. She whirled on him, both startled and wary.

  "Who the fuck are you?" she demanded.

  Ted rolled his eyes. "That's becoming the standard greeting when I show up."

  "That's Ted, darling," Diana drawled with obvious amusement. "Ben's spirit guardian, and frankly, the biggest asshole I've ever met."

  "Guilty as charged!" Ted said, his grin widening. "Now, where were we, beautiful? You were talking about this connection we share."

  Dara narrowed her eyes and knelt, getting right in Ted's face. For once, he seemed slightly uncomfortable. After a few seconds, she poked his forehead and stood back up, looking thoughtful.

  "I see." She turned to Diana. "This is why you had me research Spirit Guardians. This should disqualify him from any reward. The trial is for him alone."

  "Whoa, hey! Don't go thinking that was me," Ted said, satisfaction creeping back into his voice. "I was just kicked back, watching the show. If I'd helped, it would've been over much faster, believe me."

  "Is that so?" Dara asked, eyes alight with challenge. "Care to try again, then?"

  Ted smirked. "I think ol' Ben is spent, but your tone tells me you believe me. Checkmate. Now, can we get back to you being deeply attracted to me?"

  Dara's near-porcelain skin flushed pink. "I... I said nothing of the sort." She exhaled sharply. "Fine. You beat me, Ben. Twice. But I won't announce it to the grounds. If anyone asks, you simply passed the trial. That's my condition for the reward."

  I scowled. "But I—"

  "Dara, your avarice is showing," Diana cut in smoothly. "Ben, if Dara says you were spanked over a barrel, that's what you'll tell everyone."

  I promptly shut my mouth as Ted cackled with delight.

  Dara scowled and stomped dramatically to the pool at the pavilion's center, muttering something about 'stupid apprentices.' She held out her hand, and the water churned for a moment before a glass orb the size of a grapefruit shot up into her grasp.

  Red's tail started wagging as she approached, sniffing at the air like he already knew it was something special.

  "One of my spirit wells," she explained, holding the orb out to me. "They're limited—a finite resource in my tower. It's pure mana and should help you push through to Adept before it runs dry. Your familiar can use it too, if you prefer."

  She dropped the orb into my hands, and instantly, my body ached to absorb it. It reminded me of the Brine Tyrant's core—that hum of barely contained energy. But this? This was on a whole different scale, like holding a star.

  I looked at Red, who seemed intrigued, sniffing intently. He looked at me, then sat down and started panting, apparently no longer interested.

  "Are you sure about this?" Diana asked, eyeing Dara with concern.

  Dara waved her off just as the chime of a completed trial rang out across the grounds. "I have plenty. It's the first time I've had to give one out in... who knows how long. I'll start forming a new one—should be ready in a few years."

  I nearly choked. "A few years?!"

  She shrugged. "I know, my mana manipulation is without equal."

  "I'll tell you what won't be quick," Ted started, waggling his eyebrows at Dara.

  Before he could finish that thought, I shoved Winchester into my soul-space—Ted howling in outrage as he was dragged along.

  Ignoring his tantrum echoing in my head, I turned back to Dara. "You said this has enough to get me to Adept. What does that mean exactly?"

  "Once you have your Seal, your job as a Seeker is to expand your mana pathways as far as they'll develop mastery over your aspects," Diana answered. "The difference in strength between a new Seeker and an Adept is roughly double, just by maxing out what your body can physically hold. It's harder than it sounds—plenty of people give up before they get there."

  "Chas said it would take way longer for me since I had the tea," I said, still mesmerized by the orb's soft glow.

  "You won't reach Adept before the tournament," Diana said, her tone edged with concern. "But with that orb, it shouldn’t take long in Sylvarus, or…"

  , she didn't say, but I heard it anyway.

  Just then, Cass came barreling up the stairs, grinning like she'd just won the lottery.

  "Gaia's sweet tits, Dara, that Spirit trial is messed up! What's with the—" She stopped short, taking in the scene—our somewhat drained expressions, the glimmering glass sphere in my hands, and Red wagging his tail so hard his entire back end was moving.

  Dara sighed deeply.

  Cass glanced at Diana. Then me. Then Red. Then back to Dara, her grin widening.

  "He did it again, didn't he?"