The crystalline staircase loomed before Arin and Lyra, its 99 steps pulsing with spiraling runes, stretching into a radiant void. The Relic's ancient voice, deep as weathered stone, echoed in their minds, promising rewards for steps climbed through understanding. The spiritual pressure on the first step pressed against their Third Realm cores, a mental weight cultivation couldn't dispel. Arin's insights—spiritual circulation and resonance—stirred, easing the burden, while Lyra's mirrored focus kept her steady. The other Vale juniors, spread across their solitary paths, began climbing, their auras flickering under the trial's scrutiny.
Each step intensified the pressure, a relentless force probing their minds and cores. Arin's hum thrummed, his Late Spirit Core Stage aura resilient, his insights weaving clarity against the weight. Lyra matched him, her Middle Spirit Core Stage aura bolstered by the same insights, her runed sword swaying at her hip. By the fifth step, the pressure was a constant hum, demanding deeper understanding. Some juniors faltered, their steps slowing, but Arin and Lyra pressed on, their trial-earned insights—circulation from the cave, resonance from the obelisk—guiding them.
At the 10th step, the spiritual pressure doubled, a crushing wave that slammed into their cores. Arin staggered, his vision blurring, the weight threatening to bind his mind. Lyra gasped, her aura wavering, her hand gripping her sword for balance. Most juniors froze, faces strained, unable to advance. Elira, her near-Fourth Realm aura dense, pushed through, her golden-brown hair catching the rune glow as she reached the 11th step, the only one to pass. The others, including Arin and Lyra, sat cross-legged, meditating to relieve the pressure, their insights the key to progress.
Arin closed his eyes, his hum resonating with the staircase's runes. He focused on his insights, visualizing energy circulation and resonance, seeking balance within the pressure. His mind sank deeper, the world fading—Lyra, the staircase, the juniors—replaced by a vast, spiraling void. He entered a profound enlightenment, his Late Third Realm core spinning in harmony. A voice, distinct from the Relic's, spoke within him, its tone ancient yet vibrant, like a star's pulse: "Balance, Destruction, Rebirth. This will open the path to the Fourth Step." The words pointed to realms beyond Mortal, Immortal, and Dao, a mystery that stirred his hum but offered no clarity.
Lyra opened her eyes, her aura now radiating the Late Spirit Core Stage, advanced through the plaza's energy and berries. The pressure eased enough for her to continue, her resonance insight aligning with the runes. Glancing at Arin, his aura serene in deep enlightenment, she smiled softly. "Stay focused, Arin," she whispered, standing to climb alone, her runed sword a grounding weight, her Late Third Realm aura vibrant.
Days passed, the Relic's time dilation stretching their efforts. Lyra climbed steadily, each step a test of understanding, her insights battling the pressure. Other juniors progressed, their meditations yielding clarity. Elira led, her steps precise, her near-Fourth Realm mentality unmatched. Two other Vale geniuses emerged—Kael, a sharp-eyed youth with a silver spear, and Mira, a lithe girl with a jade fan—both at Late Spirit Core Stage, their auras rivaling Lyra's.
After one week, most juniors crossed the 30th step, their rankings taking shape. Lyra reached the 43rd, having passed the 40th, her aura steady, her insights honed by trials. Elira stood at the 52nd, her lead commanding, her golden-brown eyes scanning the void. Kael held the 45th step, his spear glinting, while Mira stood at the 47th, her fan tracing runes in the air. Other juniors varied, some at the 35th, others lagging at the 25th, their Third Realm auras strained but resolute.
As the week ended, the ancient voice echoed again, its weathered-stone timbre resonating through the staircase: "Twenty-four hours remain. Complete the trial, or the ascent ends. Rewards will be granted by steps conquered." The juniors tensed, the deadline sharpening their focus. Lyra, on the 43rd step, redoubled her meditation, her Late Third Realm aura flaring. Elira, Kael, and Mira pushed upward, their steps measured, the pressure a relentless forge.
Arin remained on the 10th step, his enlightenment unbroken, his core a vortex of energy. The mysterious voice's words—Balance, Destruction, Rebirth—echoed, guiding his focus. His Late Third Realm core pulsed, meridians glowing with a soft, silvery light, like moonlight threading through his body. The insights from the cave and obelisk wove together, circulation stabilizing his energy, resonance aligning it with the staircase's runes. His core began to condense, its edges sharpening, as if forging a new form. The spiraling void in his mind deepened, runes swirling like stars, his hum a steady rhythm matching the Relic's pulse.
As the 24-hour deadline loomed, Arin's core reached a tipping point. Energy surged, a warm tide flooding his meridians, each channel expanding to carry the growing power. His core trembled, then collapsed inward, a silent implosion that drew every ounce of spiritual energy into a single point. For a moment, he felt weightless, suspended in the void. Then, with a burst that shook his being, the core reformed, no longer a dense sphere but a radiant orb—a nascent soul, pulsing with Fourth Realm vitality. Its light cascaded through his meridians, strengthening them, his aura igniting like a beacon, bathing the 10th step in a soft, golden glow.
The staircase's runes flared, their pulse syncing with his new aura, as if acknowledging his transformation. The spiritual pressure vanished, the trial's weight no longer a barrier, its unique space anchoring him—no ejection came, the staircase's rules bending for his breakthrough. His body felt lighter, his senses sharper, the hum in his chest now a resonant song, carrying the echo of the voice's words: a path to realms beyond, tied to his destiny. His meridians thrummed, wide and resilient, channeling Nascent Soul energy with effortless flow. His core stabilized, the nascent soul a steady flame, its power a quiet promise.
Arin's breakthrough complete, his mind surfaced from the void, the spiraling runes fading. He opened his eyes, their depths gleaming with newfound clarity, the staircase's glow reflecting in them.