The chamber of the fourth floor was very silent since there were no other Arcanists practicing here...

Even if there were, they would be sent to another location, ensuring that there wouldn't be any interference during the Trial.

At this time, Armin stood face-to-face with his own reflection, a perfect illusion wielding the same Dark Arts he had mastered.

This type of challenge was very common in the Arcane Arts Tower. It seemed to be their signature test to ensure that the Arcanist would surpass themselves.

"Heh~"

The mirror Armin smirked as he spoke with a similar voice.

"You cannot defeat yourself. Every weakness you hide, I will use it."

Armin chuckled after hearing this. "Idiot… You have the same weakness then."

The duel began instantly. Dark Hands erupted from the floor, clashing against identical Dark Chains. Shadow spears also manifested and pierced the air. However, they were countered by identical strikes. Every move Armin made was mirrored, every tactic or angle of attack was also anticipated.

Armin gritted his teeth as he realized that he was really strong.

'This isn't a battle of strength… it's a battle of perfection. And I can't outmatch myself if I continue doing the same tricks.'

The illusion seemed to be more aggressive, and as the battle went on, its attacks grew sharper, faster.

Apparently, it wasn't getting tired, unlike Armin, who had to constantly think of his next moves and strain his body by casting Spells faster.

It was simply too unfair.

Soon, Armin felt like he was about to be overwhelmed since his defenses had started breaking. However, Just as the mirror's strike was about to pierce his chest, the spirits within his shadow stirred.

A surge of energy coursed through him. It was not his own, but theirs. His Dark Energy twisted, reshaped into Mystic Energy.

Suddenly, the illusion staggered, confused by the sudden shift of power…

However, Armin didn't stop moving as shadows transformed into dark threads, binding the mirror of himself and breaking it into its true form.

Soon, the chamber dissolved into mist, and Armin collapsed to one knee, panting.

"I… didn't win alone. It was them…. But that's still a win." He felt the spirits whispering faintly, reminding him that they were part of his fate.

"Alright… Alright… Thanks for saving me. Help me from now on." He muttered as he felt that these Spirits just wanted some recognition.

Just like that, the path upward opened.

The fifth floor was unlike the others. It was a vast library…

It had walls with Formation Arrays that were protecting the books, and they'd even rearranged themselves constantly.

It seemed that this time, the trial was not about combat, it was about comprehension.

Soon, a voice echoed through the chamber:

"To ascend, you must answer the paradoxes of the Mystic Arts. Knowledge is the key."

Armin stepped forward, staring at the various books around the chamber…

Soon, he found several problems related to Spell Models, riddles of Mystic Arts, and even something related to Mystical Alchemy.

Each problem requires knowledge of various logic or arcane theories.

Of course, Armin frowned at this sight.

'This… this isn't my strength. I studied Mystic Arts, but I was never good at it.'

He looked at the incomplete Spell Models that needed to be perfected. Unfortunately, this was impossible for him.

He would definitely fail this part of the past. Still, he tried to check elsewhere and found the riddles or questions related to Mystic Arts.

He tried to read the first riddle…

"What is both illusion and truth, both shadow and light, yet neither exists without the other?"

Armin hesitated. It was indeed something he couldn't answer.

His Dark Arts training had never focused on riddles of paradox… Even with his knowledge about Mystic Arts, he was completely helpless.

Then, the spirits inside his shadow moved again.

In just a few moments, he heard their whispers…

As a matter of fact, it filled his mind, as if he was being granted knowledge from the Spirit Realm. He saw visions… illusions dissolving into reality, shadows merging with light, and soon, the answer formed in his mind.

"Perception," he whispered. "The way we see defines both illusion and truth."

Just like that, the riddle disappeared…

He moved to the next.

"What binds energy yet cannot be touched, what guides spells yet has no form?"

Armin clenched his fists.

'I don't know…'

But the spirits whispered again, showing him the answer…

"Intent," he said firmly. "The will of the caster."

It seemed that he was correct once again as the riddle disappeared.

One by one, the riddles fell, not by his own knowledge, but by the guidance of the spirits. They lent him fragments of their wisdom, insights from the Spirit Realm that no human Arcanist could possess.

Soon, even the problems related to Spell Models and Mystical Alchemy were resolved with the help of the Spirits!

Finally, the door leading to the next floor moved…

A mouth appeared from it and asked, "What is fate to the Tower? Choice or inevitability?"

Armin froze. His heart pounded.

'Fate… Yvaine said the Tower measures fate. But is it choice, or inevitability?'

The spirits stirred violently, whispering in unison. He felt their answer and nodded…

"It is both," Armin said softly. "Choice defines the path, but inevitability defines the destination."

With this answer, the chamber trembled. The runes dissolved completely, and the path upward opened.

Armin exhaled with sweat dripping down his face. "Without them… I would have failed."

He then rested for some time, but it didn't take that long… After calming down, he climbed to the sixth floor.

"I'm finally here…" Armin muttered.

It was darker and felt more oppressive.

Inside, he realized that the chamber was filled with mirrors, each reflecting not his body, but his soul. Every reflection showed a different version of himself…

"This is interesting…" Armin paused as he saw this…

He saw various images of himself with some triumphant, some broken, some corrupted…

Then, the voice of the Tower echoed…

"To ascend, you must confront the truth of your essence. The Mystic Arts demand clarity of self."

Armin stepped forward, staring at the mirrors. One showed him as a Tower Master, triumphant and powerful. Another showed him as a failure, broken and forgotten.

A third showed him corrupted, consumed by his Dark Arts, ruling as a tyrant.

As he looked at each of them longer, he suddenly felt his chest tighten.

'Is this who I could become?'

A seed of doubt was planted in his mind just like that…

Soon, even the mirrors began to speak with voices taunting him.

"You are not worthy."

"You are nothing without Vale."

"You will be consumed by your own madness."

Armin staggered, clutching his head. The voices pierced his mind, threatening to shatter his resolve to live.

But then, the spirits stirred again.

Their whispers of the Spirit drowned out the taunts, filling him with calmness…

Suddenly, they showed him visions of his journey, his battles, his companions, his loyalty to Vale. They reminded him that he was not alone.

Armin raised his head.

"I am Armin. I am Vale's disciple. I may not be the best disciple, but I have proven myself.

The mirrors trembled. One by one, they shattered, dissolving into mist.

Just like that, the chamber cleared, and the path upward opened.

Armin collapsed to his knees, exhausted.

"Seriously… I only succeeded because of the spirits."

He couldn't help but mock his situation. Still, he had succeeded and he was doing well. He should be accepted by the Tower really soon.

Even if he gets rejected, he would certainly obtain a reward.

By the time he stood again, Armin felt ready…

He had also realized that the Mystic Arts Tower was not testing his mastery of Mystic Arts alone. It seemed that it was also testing his ability to accept help, to adapt, to embrace fate.

Without the spirits, he would have failed every trial. Maybe the Spirits with him were part of the fate that he truly had to accept…

After all, despite getting blatant help from the Spirits, the Tower had not rejected him. It allowed him to ascend instead…

"I can do this…"

***

Deep within Vale's Immortal Tower, the Spirit Queen lay upon her bed of dark crystal.

Her aura pulsed faintly as she felt her summoned Spirits being restless.

Every time she exerted herself, her injury would open up, and her body would weaken further.

Yet she did not rest. Her eyes glowed faintly as she continued to channel her will into the ten spirits hidden within Armin's shadow. Through them, she guided him, whispered answers, and lent him strength.

But the strain was immense.

Each time Armin was about to fail in the test, she had to push harder, forcing her essence through the fragile link.

Her fingers trembled, her breath became shallow, and her body felt as though it was getting weaker.

"Foolish boy… What an idiot!" she cursed under her breath. Her voice was still loud despite her frailty.

"So weak… You cannot even solve the simplest riddles without me. You cannot even face yourself without collapsing. Ugh! Why did Vale even consider this useless person as a disciple?!"

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