I Leveled Up Faster Than The Gods Themselves
Chapter 9: The Trial That Refuses Mercy
Light enveloped Ryn entirely, consuming him in an overwhelming embrace that felt more like suffocation than illumination.
It was not the gentle warmth of a sunbeam, nor was it a radiant glow that comforts those in the dark. Instead, it was an immense pressure-a weight that pressed down upon him from all sides, squeezing the very air from his lungs as reality itself contorted and reformed around him mid-stride. The familiar landscape of the Ascendant Realm faded away as though it had never existed, replaced abruptly by an expansive circular arena constructed entirely from fractured stone. This arena hung precariously in an infinite void, an abyss of nothingness that stretched endlessly in every direction. Below him, there was absolutely nothing-no solid ground beneath his feet, no vast expanse of sky above, not even the distant suggestion of a horizon. Instead, he was surrounded by a ghostly panorama of shattered worlds, spiraling through the abyss like lifeless corpses drifting in a cosmic graveyard.
Instinctively, Ryn stumbled forward, barely managing to catch himself just inches from the jagged edge of the arena, his heart racing in response to the perilous drop that lurked beneath him.
"Okay," he muttered hoarsely, his voice echoing in the emptiness around him. "So this is where people stop coming back."
Behind him, the obsidian archway that had initially ushered him into this nightmarish tableau sealed shut with a chilling finality, its closing reverberating ominously like the sound of a coffin lid being firmly nailed shut-signifying an end, with no hope of return.
The ground beneath his feet began to tremble violently, as though the very fabric of reality was protesting against his presence.
From the far side of the arena, a massive shadow emerged, towering and grotesque. It leaned toward Ryn, humanoid in shape yet fundamentally distorted. Its form appeared to be sculpted from a fusion of layered black stone, with cracks streaming across its surface that glowed with a menacing crimson light-a twisted echo of molten veins coursing around its structure. Where one might expect to see facial features was only a smooth mask, intricately etched with a plethora of runes that seemed to pulse ominously with each heartbeat of the creature.
A voice boomed out, reverberating across the arena-not loud in its volume, but absolute in its authority.
"WORLD-TIER TRIAL COMMENCING."
There was no explanation offered, no gentle hand to guide him through the chaos of this new reality, and certainly no tutorial.
Reacting instinctively, Ryn drew his sword in an instant, the familiar weight of the blade reassuring in his hand, grounding him amidst the unfolding terror.
"Figures," he muttered to himself with a grim smile. "Guess standing around gets you killed."
And without another moment's hesitation, the creature lunged forward, its massive form a blur of motion.
In an astonishing feat of agility, the behemoth covered half the arena in a single, sweeping step.
Ryn barely managed to roll aside, narrowly escaping the crushing impact of the stone fist that smashed down into the ground. The force of the blow sent shockwaves reverberating through the arena, shattering a considerable section of the platform underfoot and dismissing the debris into the endless void below.
If he were to fall-
There would be no chance of revival. There would be no gratifying system reset that could bring him back from the brink.
Only erasure.
Panic echoed in his chest as his heart thundered with the realization of the stakes at hand.
"So that's the stake," he understood with a dawning clarity. "Win… or stop existing."
The severity of the situation struck him like a physical blow, a truth he could not escape.
The tumultuous arena reacted violently to each impact, the ground trembling and shifting as though it were alive and unwilling to play fair. Platforms twisted and turned, fissures crept across the stone surfaces, and gravity itself became capricious, dragging at his limbs in erratic bursts.
This place was not neutral ground.
It was hostile-a treacherous labyrinth designed to ensnare and destroy.
The trial he faced was not merely a test of strength, but a wicked embodiment of malevolence, an adversary bent on taking his life through cunning trial and error, forcing him to navigate not just the creature but the very environment that sought to obliterate him.
Ryn surged forward in a burst of determination, bringing his sword down in an arc aimed at the construct's surprisingly resilient arm. The blade met stone with a shower of sparks, but it barely breached the tough exterior of the creature.
It was far too tough.
In reaction, the construct retaliated viciously, sweeping Ryn off his feet and sending him skidding dangerously close to the edge of the platform, the void yawning beneath him.
As he scrambled back to his feet, a singular thought pierced through the fog of fear that engulfed him
"I don't want to die again."
This realization was not abstract it wasn't merely philosophical or theoretical.
It was visceral.
The raw, primal instinct to survive anchored him, solidifying his resolve in the face of impending doom.
The looming construct hovered overhead, both of its massive arms raised as if preparing to deliver a final, crushing blow.
For a split second, Ryn froze, the weight of sheer terror anchoring him in place, rendering him immobile.
Then, he breathed, forcing himself to focus.
"Fear means I understand the danger," he reminded himself, the mantra echoing within the recesses of his mind. "It doesn't get to decide my next move."
Summoning every ounce of resolve, he rolled forward-narrowly avoiding the crushing blow as it came crashing down behind him-and came up inside the creature's guard, positioning himself for a counterattack.
Planting his feet firmly, Ryn called upon the controlled energy that had been instilled in him during his training on the Path.
He released it with precision-the same stabilizing force he had learned to command.
The shockwave that emanated from him was devoid of theatrics it didn't explode with visual flair. Instead, it was calculated and effective.
The construct staggered, momentarily disoriented by the force of Ryn's attack.
Ryn let out a sharp exhalation, relief washing over him. "Good. Still relevant," he mused, realizing that every lesson he had learned until this point was still vital.
He wasted no abilities, nor had he forgotten any of the powers he had acquired.
Spurred by newfound confidence, Ryn pressed his advantage-perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
The construct adapted to his movements, its runes flaring brighter with menace. A powerful backhand came crashing toward him, sending Ryn hurtling into a nearby pillar, the impact leaving his ribs screaming in protest.
He slid down the cold stone structure, breathless and coughing.
"Okay," he groaned, wincing through the pain. "That's my limit."
Then a crooked smile crept across his face, the adrenaline igniting a spark of exhilaration within him.
"Which means I know where to push next."
Knowledge of his limits was not a deterrent but a guide an understanding of how to move forward.
Slowly, Ryn rose to his feet, energy thrumming dangerously beneath the surface of his skin like a live wire.
He understood one crucial fact-if he unleashed all of his power recklessly in this moment of desperation, the very arena itself might crumble into chaos.
So he did not let loose.
Instead, Ryn compressed the energy, focused it down into a concentrated point.
The power recognized its master, responding obediently to his will.
For the first time, the construct hesitated.
Though the creature had been relentless up to this point, it now revealed the first hint of uncertainty.
As the tension in the arena peaked, a chilling voice echoed over the expanse-a voice colder than the void itself.
"WHY DO YOU STRUGGLE?"
With blood trickling down his chin, Ryn spat upon the ground defiantly and replied aloud, the conviction ringing clear in his voice
"Because I want a future that doesn't end with someone stronger deciding I'm disposable."
As he spoke those words, the entire arena trembled with the force of his determination, the air thick with promise and the weight of his resolve as he prepared to continue his fight against the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.
The construct projected an elaborate illusion, a clever trick designed to ensnare Ryn's senses-
There stood Seris at the very edge of the expansive arena, her form appearing to reach out desperately for him as the ground beneath her twisted and crumbled into nothingness.
Ryn's breath caught in his throat, a sudden sort of panic welling within him as he fought to discern reality from the illusion that tormented his mind.
Yet as the moment stretched out, his resolve hardened into something unyielding.
"Nice try," he said in a quiet but firm voice, lacking any tremor of uncertainty. "You don't get to use her against me."
With a flash of determination, he struck with all his might, and in that instant, the illusion shattered like glass, revealing the construct's true form. His strike was powerful enough to splinter the energy that formed the construct's chest, making it wobble dangerously and exposing the instability lurking within.
The construct let out a tremendous roar, its core now laid bare to Ryn's gaze, pulsating with raw energy and potential.
Inside Ryn, he felt an awakening of something powerful, though it wasn't quite a new ability or a mystical prowess just yet.
It was more akin to a pressure building within him, a palpable threshold that simmered with urgency and possibility.
"I exist to move forward," he reminded himself resolutely. "Even when the world insists I must halt, I will not be confined."
In that moment of determination, a torrent of energy surged through him, aligning and sharpening, like the edge of a newly forged blade ready to be put to the test.
As the construct braced itself for its final, desperate attack, Ryn felt a familiar warmth envelop him, brushing against his very being.
It was Seris.
Though she wasn't physically present beside him-
He could sense her essence.
Her unwavering belief in him coursed through the air, suffusing the space around him.
Ryn leaned into that warmth and whispered with conviction, "I won't waste what you believed in. I will fight, not just for myself but for you."
With renewed determination, he leaped into action, rallying all his forsaken strength and the warmth of her faith fueling his every move.
The End of the Trial
With unyielding resolve, Ryn drove his blade directly into the luminous core of the construct.
In that moment, the construct froze, its form stuttering as cracks began to proliferate across its surface like spiderwebs, the energy it had once wielded now cascading into chaos.
Then, with a brilliant flash-
It shattered into a dazzling array of light, filling the arena with a brilliance that gradually faded into a soft glow.
As the atmosphere shifted, the arena stabilized, the tumult settling into a deep silence that seemed to stretch out infinitely.
In that quietude, a new voice emerged, calm yet curious in its tone, an ethereal presence that pierced through the stillness.
"TRIAL COMPLETE."
Golden runes spiraled around Ryn's body in intricate patterns, glowing with energy and purpose.
"CONDITION MET."
As Ryn's vision blurred momentarily, he felt the sting of pain, quickly giving way to the clarity of newfound understanding.
REWARD NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED
Ability Name World Anchor
Description
This remarkable ability allows the user to temporarily tether themselves firmly to reality, a tether so strong that it renders forms of forced displacement, knockback, spatial distortion, and absolute suppression utterly ineffective against them.
Limitation
The duration and effectiveness of this ability are determined by the user's mental resilience and dedicated training.
His breath hitched as the weight of this new knowledge settled upon him.
"So… I don't get pushed around anymore," he murmured, the corners of his lips curling up ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile peeking through.
Suddenly, he noticed the arena starting to dissolve around him, fading into a wash of light and color.
Return
As the light folded inward, pulling him from the essence of the trial-
Ryn found himself collapsing onto the cold, unyielding stone beneath him.
He gasped, every breath a struggle, his hands trembling violently as the adrenaline ebbed away.
Within moments, Seris was beside him, her presence like a comforting balm, catching him before he could completely falter.
"You're alive," she whispered, disbelief mingling with relief written across her features.
Ryn let out a weak laugh that trailed off into a cough. "Yeah. Seems the world failed its execution attempt against me after all."
For a moment, she simply looked at him-really looked at him-her gaze probing the depths of his soul as if trying to ascertain the truth of his experience.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "You just changed the rules of the game."
Ryn closed his eyes, surrendering to the exhausted yet euphoric feeling that washed over him like a gentle tide, a smile playing on his lips as he basked in the aftermath of his victory.
"Good," he replied, his voice steady yet filled with gratitude. "They needed better ones."
To be continued...