But the giant bronze puppet lay motionless in the smoking pit, eyes flickering once before their inner fire faded to darkness.
"that's it?," Ethan said with mild disappointment. "So it rank out of spiritual stones."
He shrank his form, body returning to its original normal size. A powerful battle had just been fought, but the stone forest was altered beyond recognition. Rifts, shattered spires, and scorched shadows dominated what once had been an arena of ordered chaos. Only the ancient tablet had escaped the devastation, standing untouched and oddly dignified in the wake of destruction.
Ethan approached, boots crunching gravel and dust, his gaze sharp on the tablet. "This should count as a pass, right?"
Something shifted. The rows of names—generations of trial-takers—began to shimmer, then dissolve. All at once, every letter on the stone vanished. A single golden word emerged—his name, Ethan—glowing with pride alone at the stele's center.
A moment's satisfaction, and then…
