Eiran and his chamberlain stepped onto the cement path and walked for kilometers until they reached a stone tablet.
In the distance, on either side of their tablet, stood other tablets.
"Those belong to other candidates," she pointed at the distant tablets. "You must learn and solve what appears on the tablet, and the city will send a boat to take us inside. You have only three attempts!"
The tablet resembled a stone wall slab. Plain and empty one moment, then it is divided into small tiles, each bearing runic symbols—a chaotic mix of animal depictions and mysterious signs.
Beneath them appeared normal meanings and common alphabet that he recognized. There were one hundred runes, each with its meaning, but some looked extremely similar. A slight curve here, a shallow depression in the carving there, or a single dot differentiated them.
More than their visual appearance, Eiran felt something deeper—emotions triggered within his body. As blood was a carrier of emotions, he amplified them.
They were strange to him—more feelings than emotions—but each rune evoked entirely different sensations. Some were similar in essence but fundamentally distinct.
The tiles flipped after just a minute. Now there were no descriptions, only a sentence formed by the tile arrangement.
Eiran's thoughts accelerated as he pulled together the images and emotions to make comparisons.
[Welcome new candidate. Death lies in me. Loss lies in me. Loneliness lies in me. To commence is to embrace them. Are you ready to lose everything?]
[Write your name]
An empty tile appeared beneath. Eiran frowned and touched the tiles—that was all it took for his name to be inscribed in runic language. The tablet simply read his intentions and completed the task.
The tiles didn't flip but began to shift. His name vanished, and the entire tablet filled with an amalgamation of runes.
"Transition stage. Get ready—each trial gives only two minutes before completion."
The runes were changing and swirling, as if searching for an effective way to test him. But his mind moved at superhuman speed, grasping the meanings behind them.
They were changing in less then a second, but some evoked feelings in him—meanings his mind wanted to capture.
In just a moment, he connected dots from the first, second, and fifth meanings and feelings.
'Waxing Crescent Art'
Eiran cleaved the tablet, splitting it in two. He sheathed his sword and waited.
"You... I mean, the trial hasn't started. Or has it?" Nyara was startled and panicked before she calmed herself.
Eiran didn't answer as a feeling washed over him, bringing a smile to his face.
Instant Shift applied to jumping—he flickered ten feet above ground and was about to fall when he was yanked toward the large silhouette.
Nyara looked confused before she too jumped, reaching 100 feet. As she began to fall, a force pulled her toward Eiran, their movements synchronizing.
"Haha! I'm flying!" Eiran shouted as wind whipped his face. Wind filled his mouth and expanded. His eyes tearing too.
A subtle force made by Nyara prevented the harsh wind from disturbing her. She shouted, "What happened?"
"The trial is... for losers!" Eiran shouted back.
"Hahaha," she then noticed he wanted to speak and shouted, "Use the uniform!"
His face was being overwhelmed by wind as their speed increased. "No!" he shouted with difficulty, but the Royal Uniform formed a barrier to protect him.
As his chamberlain, she received the same treatment. Before she could ask, Eiran explained, "I don't know what the trial would have been, but it seems Ethiopia only wants someone who can communicate with it. The ancient alphabet is both visual and emotional. If you grasp the emotions, you can read the visual better."
Eiran became more excited as he explained to her, "Haha! Do you know what you called the 'transition state' is just Ethiopia ranting about wanting to reach the surface and be under the stars? It kept talking to me, but not straightforwardly—it would begin with end sentences, then move to the beginning, then the middle. It's confusing. I had to capture everything and rearrange it to make sense in my mind."
"What did it tell you?" Nyara was surprised at the level Eiran had reached in mere moments. She shook her head—the boy was simply an anomaly.
She should stop being amazed by him, but was that possible?
"It was telling me how it watched my fight unfold and how I should have faced the challenge—what I should have done to make things faster and simpler," Eiran explained with a smile.
"But before all that, the first thing it said—which I only grasped after it said the last sentence—was:
"'You wield a magnificent sword. Test its sharp edge on the tablet and jump to me yourself.'"
Nyara fell silent and thoughtful before she said, "I see. The boat is a restriction. Or we..."
She fell silent as the silhouette revealed itself in a bubble, numerous flying creatures, too distant to distinguish within.
Then layers of ascension appeared—the city rose like a mountain, each layer was different, evoking distinct sensations. There were one hundred ascension layers.
At each layer were numerous bubbles—each containing a small town, a city, or simply a forest.
This side view of Ethiopia filled their vision. Eiran's eyes devoured the sight and his fatigue vanished—both mental and physical. He was restored to perfect condition.
For Nyara, that didn't happen, but understanding flooded her mind with knowledge she didn't know she possessed.
"My Prince, we have a problem." She exclaimed, "They're using newborn annihilator corruption on many beasts that can counter you. I think they're blocking the Great Dark Forest with that."
Eiran frowned. "Great Dark Forest?"
"Yes. It's the largest forest in the first layer, filled with absolutely terrifying beasts. As a Paladin who can tame beasts, they're ensuring the creatures there won't fall under your charm."
"I see. They feel threatened?" Eiran commented, then beamed. "It's alright. Since we're together, we'll figure things out!"
"No, I think," she paused in thought, "we'll be separated. You'll face the City's True Trial—one that determines getting a Court. I'll be sent elsewhere to wait for you."
Eiran's confused face made her explain more, "There are two types of trials I forgot to mention: Individual Royal Trial and Royal Court Trial.
"Individual Royal Trial is like the one with the tablet. You alone can do it. The Royal Court Trial is like the mechanical constructs, I can help with that, but it increases the difficulty. Living inside the Great City constitutes a Royal Court Trial, but there will be Individual Royal Trials where I can't help you!"
Eiran nodded in understanding as their bodies began moving toward the magnificent city. She shouted, "Be careful! The older candidates have more leeway to affect us. There might be unexpected surprises."
"I'll be careful. Don't worry. Stay safe, Nyara Dume," he shouted as their vision blurred.
---
Like meteors, they each streaked toward different locations in the Great City. Nyara crash-landed in a location with tall trees and small crops.
With a smile, she stood. "The benefits of understanding the City rants are great!" She smiled, happy beyond compare as she was now inside the very Royal Court Eiran should receive if he passed his trial.
She had been sent there to make preparations for his arrival. But if he failed, she would be expelled.
She dashed forward but came to a sudden halt—a wall that was supposed to cover the surroundings and maintain the dome around them had collapsed.
"This..." She ran forward, in trepidation and stopped again.
A man encased in yellow armor with glowing yellow eyes stood before her.
Nyara's mouth blurted, "Sundown!"
"Rising Pond. How are you? Why is your presence so weak?" He spoke, his voice soothing to hear—one that could be easily liked.
She sighed and looked up. The building ahead showed signs of activity. She didn't ask why they were here but warned, "You're breaking the rules here!"
"No, we're not. We're part of your trials." His voice held a mocking smile.
"I know it doesn't work that way. You fear him!" she growled.
"Well. His talent is troublesome—he'll reach certain places too easily. We're simply creating some challenges for his growth."
Nyara gritted her teeth and said, "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, coming after a boy that..."
"That won't work. You and I both know this is a race. Haha." The man's voice never wavered.
Nyara's hand moved toward her gown. Whatever they were planning in this place had to be destroyed.
She was about to draw something when an indigo-colored puddle appeared beneath the yellow-armored man. From within came burning coal eyes, glaring at him.
The man exclaimed, "Dragon King!"
Before he moved, a menacing dragon head pushed out from the indigo puddle—red, with coiled horns streaked with burning heat. It rammed into the yellow-armored man, sending him flying into the sky.