Arin and Lyra pressed deeper into the Vale Relic's vibrant core, the path now a shimmering ribbon of crystal dust winding through groves of luminous trees. Their leaves, glowing with hues of violet and gold, cast a kaleidoscope of light across the ground, syncing with the hum in Arin's chest. The spiral archway's distant glow had grown sharper, its runes pulsing like a heartbeat, guiding them toward the Relic's middle. Arin's spiritual detection swept the surroundings, catching flickers of energy that promised trials. The air thrummed with dense spiritual power, urging their Third Realm cores to stay alert.
Their wounds from the snake battle—Arin's side cut, Lyra's bruised thigh and arm—had dulled, the insight from the cave's tablet refining their energy flow, easing the pain. The Spiral Blade Art book rested in Arin's pouch, a future asset, but their focus was on new gains, as Elira's words about trials and insights echoed in their minds.
A faint energy pulse drew Arin's detection to a clearing off the path, where a cluster of glowing vines encircled a stone altar. Three Second Realm bird-like beasts, their feathers crackling with spiritual energy, guarded a small pile of crimson fruits radiating Third Realm power. Arin and Lyra exchanged a glance, their strategy unspoken. Lyra charged, her runed sword flashing, drawing the birds' dives. Arin flanked, his plain sword infused with energy, cutting down one bird as Lyra dispatched the others with precise strikes. The beasts dissolved into light, and the altar's vines parted, revealing five spiritual fruits.
"These are stronger than the berries," Arin said, splitting them—three for him, two for Lyra, adding to their pouches. The fruits' energy promised a cultivation boost, but they saved them, wary of the Fourth Realm's ejection.
Further along, another trial emerged—a rune-carved obelisk emitting a soft hum that resonated with Arin's own. A Third Realm shadow-wolf, its form flickering like smoke, lunged from the mist. Arin's detection tracked its movements, allowing him to dodge and strike its flank, while Lyra's runed sword pierced its core. As it dissolved, a warm light enveloped them, granting an insight into spiritual resonance—how to align their auras with the Relic's energy, enhancing control. The obelisk dimmed, its trial complete.
Their final trial before the Relic's middle was a grove where a crystal tablet hovered, guarded by two Third Realm vine-serpents. The serpents lashed with thorned tendrils, but Lyra's speed and Arin's detection outmaneuvered them. Lyra's sword severed one's core, while Arin's blade, fueled by their new insight, cut through the other. The tablet descended, revealing a scripture—a cultivation method called Cycle of Dawn, detailing energy cycling for the Third Realm, with notes in an ancient Vale script. "From an ancestor," Arin murmured, tracing the faded signature of Vale Taryn. They stored it with the Spiral Blade Art, to study later.
The path widened, the archway's glow now dominating the horizon. The Relic's middle unfolded—a vast plaza of polished crystal, its surface etched with spiral runes that pulsed in rhythm with Arin's hum. Scattered across it were other Vale juniors, their Third Realm auras steady, sitting in meditation or pacing. Some faces were familiar from the gate's opening, but none approached, each focused inward. The air was thick with anticipation, the runes' glow intensifying, as if the Relic itself waited.
Lyra's eyes scanned the crowd, landing on Elira, her golden-brown hair tied back, meditating near a rune cluster. Lyra approached, her runed sword sheathed, and Arin followed. Elira's eyes opened, her aura dense, teetering on the Fourth Realm's edge.
"Elira," Lyra said, her tone friendly but direct. "Why's everyone waiting?"
Elira's gaze was cool, her voice clipped. "The final trial. It tests us separately, at the same time. Insights, mentality—your performance sets the reward."
"What's the trial?" Lyra pressed, tilting her head.
"No one knows," Elira said, standing. "It's personal, not tied to others. The Relic judges you alone."
Arin frowned, his hum stirring. The insight from the cave and obelisk felt like preparation, but the trial's mystery gnawed at him. "So we wait and prepare."
Elira nodded once. "Cultivate. Strengthen your core. The trial will start soon."
She returned to her meditation, dismissing further talk. Lyra glanced at Arin, her grin wry. "She's still not chatty."
Arin's detection swept the plaza, noting the juniors' focus. Some absorbed spiritual energy, others reviewed scriptures. The Relic's energy was densest here, a crucible for their Third Realm cores. Elira's words about the Fourth Realm—needing insights, not just energy—rang true. The fruits, insights, and scriptures were tools for the trial's mental challenge.
"Let's cultivate," Arin said, finding a quiet spot near a rune-etched pillar. "The fruits will help."
Lyra nodded, sitting beside him. They each took a spiritual fruit from their pouches—Arin's crimson, Lyra's from the berries. The fruit's energy surged as Arin bit into it, his core spinning, absorbing its power. His Third Realm aura thickened, edging toward the Middle Spirit Core Stage, the insight from the cave refining the process. Lyra's aura flared, her berry's energy melding with her core, her expression focused.
The plaza hummed, the runes' glow intensifying, signaling the trial's approach. Arin's hum pulsed, the Cycle of Dawn and Spiral Blade Art waiting for study, the ancestral notes a link to their past. The other Vales cultivated around them, each preparing for their personal test. Lyra's runed sword rested at her side, a reminder of their trials' cost and reward. Arin closed his eyes, his core steady, ready for the Relic's final challenge.