The transition from the blinding Sahara sun to the interior of the Trial Ground was not a physical movement, but a fundamental shift in existence.

As the iridescent light faded, the five thousand Federation students and the two thousand Ancient scions found themselves standing upon a vast obsidian plain that stretched into infinity.

The sky above was not blue or silver, but a swirling nebula of deep violets and burning ambers, where stars seemed to pulse like beating hearts.

In the center of this infinite expanse stood the Tower of Aetherion.

It was a structure that defied the laws of three dimensional space. It was a spire of white jade and pulsating geometric light that ascended until it pierced the nebula ceiling, its width so vast it could have housed entire cities. The sheer presence of the tower radiated an aura of ancient, unhurried authority.

Suddenly, the space in front of the tower's massive archway warped.

A roar that sounded like the grinding of tectonic plates echoed across the plain.

From the swirling mana, a colossal dragon materialized. It was not made of flesh, but of translucent blue spirit fire, its scales shimmering with the light of a thousand constellations.

The dragon hovered above them, its eyes, each the size of a transport ship, surveying the gathered mortals with a mixture of boredom and relief.

"Welcome, candidates," the dragon's voice boomed, vibrating directly in their souls. "I am the Sentinel of the Spire. You stand within the Trial Ground left behind by my Master, the Sovereign of the Seventh Star, after he glimpsed the latent potential of this backwater planet eons ago."

The dragon lowered its head, a gust of spirit wind nearly knocking the Federation students off their feet.

"You took your time. If you had lingered in your ignorance for even another century, I would have folded this realm and closed the gates forever. My Master's patience is long, but it is not infinite."

A hush fell over the crowd. Even the arrogant Aethelgard nobles remained silent, their eyes wide.

"Listen well," the Sentinel continued. "This is not merely a test of strength. This is a search for a successor. Anyone who proves worthy of becoming my Master's disciple will be granted the mark of the Aetherion Primordial Empire.

My Master holds the rank of Count within that Empire, a title that governs ten thousand solar galaxies. To become his disciple is to become a prince among the stars, a ruler of the universe."

The air practically ignited with the sudden surge of greed and ambition.

The Ancient scions trembled with a fervor that bordered on religious mania. They knew the legends. A Primordial Empire was a civilization that sat at the peak of the cosmos.

"The trial is simple," the dragon roared, its wings furling. "Ascend. The Tower of Aetherion has one hundred levels. It does not test your muscles or your mana capacity. It tests the weight of your soul and the iron of your will.

Each level will grant rewards, pills, techniques, and artifacts that your ancestors could only dream of. But hear this. If someone can reach above Level 90, they shall earn the right to stand before the Master. There, your destiny will be decided."

With a final, deafening roar, the dragon dissolved into a pillar of blue light, and the massive jade doors of the tower ground open.

"Move! Out of the way, primitives!"

The moment the Sentinel vanished, the peace shattered. Prince Alaric, his face still swollen and purple from Naomi's earlier pummeling, shoved his way through the Federation lines. His Platinum aura was unstable but fierce.

"This trial belongs to Aethelgard! Earthlings to the rear!"

The Xylos Technarchs followed suit, their violet energy conduits hummed aggressively, forming a barrier that pushed the Federation students back into the dust.

"Calculate the probability. You are fodder. Stay back and wait for our leftovers," the lead Technarch, Unit 01, crackled.

The Earth students bit their lips, looking toward their leaders.

But Naomi was already gone.

She had stepped toward the gate with a focused, almost trance like expression. The memory of that silver white mist was still fresh in her mind, though she could not replicate the feeling. As she approached the archway, the Ancient scions instinctively parted for her. They had seen what she did to Alaric. Even in their arrogance, fear was a potent deterrent.

Naomi entered the tower first, her silhouette swallowed by the golden light of the first floor.

Noah, still wearing his wooden mask, followed at a distance.

He walked through the crowd of cursing Ancients and cowering humans like a ghost. None of the scions noticed him. He had suppressed his presence so thoroughly that he was essentially a shadow in their peripheral vision.

As he crossed the threshold, Noah's eyes narrowed behind the mask. He felt the shift in the laws of physics.

"Something is definitely wrong," Noah thought.

He looked up toward the ceiling. The levels did not just go up. They existed in separate pockets of folded space.

"Let's see what this 'Master' is actually fishing for."

The First Floor was a vast hall of white pillars. As soon as the participants entered, the atmosphere changed. It was not a physical weight, like gravity. It was a mental pressure. It felt as if a thousand voices were whispering doubts into their ears, as if the very air was asking, "Why are you here? You are nothing."

"Ugh!"

A Federation student fell to his knees, sweat pouring down his face.

"I… I can't breathe!"

"Stand up!" another yelled, but his own legs were shaking.

For the Earth students, who had only been cultivating for a year, the pressure was immense. They had the spirit, but their souls were unpolished.

By Level 5, the "gifts" appeared.

In the center of the hall sat small pedestals holding Clear Mind Pills and Bronze Grade Armor.

"Look! It's real!" a student cried, grabbing a pill.

As soon as he swallowed it, a blue light washed over him, and his shaking stopped.

"I feel stronger! The pressure is gone!"

But as they moved to Level 10, the "pushed" Federation students found themselves blocked by the Ancients.

"This is the end of the line for the cattle," Kaelen sneered, his copper hair flaming. He stood at the staircase to Level 11. "The rewards from here on are too valuable for your kind. We will take the path. You will stay here and cultivate the scraps."

The Federation students looked at the Bronze Grade items they had received, and then at the shimmering Silver Grade Swords visible on Level 10.

The gap was widening.

Noah watched from the corner of Level 10.

He saw Naomi already disappearing up the stairs to Level 20. She was moving with a speed that baffled the Ancients, her soul reinforced by the fragment of Origin Essence Noah had gifted her.

Noah walked toward the stairs.

"Hey, masked freak! Did you hear me?"

Kaelen stepped in front of Noah, his hand resting on the hilt of a glowing solar blade.

"No more primitives pass this…"

Noah did not even look at him.

He simply took a step.

An invisible ripple of Will emanated from Noah's foot. It was not mana. It was not power. It was the fundamental fact of his existence.

Kaelen's eyes bulged.

His solar blade shattered into dust.

His knees hit the jade floor with such force that the stone cracked. He could not even scream. The pressure Noah exerted was so precise that it only affected Kaelen's vocal cords and motor functions.

Noah walked past him.

To the observers, it looked like Kaelen had simply knelt in respect to let the masked man pass.

"Kaelen? What are you doing?" Alaric hissed from further up the stairs.

But Kaelen could only stare at the ground, tears of pure terror streaming down his face.

By Level 30, the number of participants had dropped from seven thousand to barely two thousand. Most Federation students had stopped at Level 15 or 20, satisfied with the cultivation manuals and pills they had found, their souls unable to bear the mounting pressure.

The pressure at Level 30 was enough to make Platinum rank Alaric sweat.

Here, the tower did not just test Will. It manifested internal demons.

Naomi stood in the center of the hall, her eyes shut tight. Surrounding her were illusions of her parents crying, of Noah dying in the hospital again, of the world burning under the feet of the Archons.

"It's not real," she whispered, her fists clenched. "Noah is alive. He's at home. I have to get stronger to protect him."

Her silver white mist flickered.

With a sharp exhale, she shattered the illusions.

A pedestal rose before her, holding a Heart Guarding Jade Pendant, Diamond Grade.

"Incredible," she breathed, feeling the pendant's warmth. "This would be a national treasure on Earth."

She looked up.

Only about fifty people were still climbing.

Among them were Alaric, Unit 01, and a few other Ancient elites.

And, to her surprise, the man in the wooden mask.

He was walking up the stairs to Level 31 as if he were taking a stroll in a park.

No sweat. No heavy breathing.

"Who is he?" Naomi wondered. "He feels… familiar. But also like a mountain I can't see the top of."

The pressure at Level 50 was catastrophic.

It was the equivalent of a Diamond rank soul's full weight.

Alaric was on his hands and knees, his silver armor cracked.

"I… I am a Prince… I will… not… fail!"

Unit 01's mechanical parts were sparking, the violet energy leaking from his joints.

"Soul… integrity… at 12 percent… logical… failure…"

Noah reached the 50th floor and stopped.

He was not looking at the rewards, which now included Epic Grade Spirit Fruits.

He was looking at the Sentinel Dragon, which had reappeared as a smaller projection in the center of the room.

"Marvelous," the dragon hissed, looking at Naomi and the masked Noah. "Two from the primitive race have reached the halfway point. Master will be pleased."

Noah walked up to the dragon projection.

"Where is he?" Noah asked.

His voice was a low vibration that made the dragon's spirit fire flicker violently.

The dragon blinked, its boredom replaced by a sudden, sharp alarm.

"You… how can you speak under this pressure?"

"I asked a question," Noah said.

He did not release his aura, but he allowed a tiny fraction of his Legendary Intent to leak out.

The dragon projection shrieked and recoiled.

The entire tower shuddered.

The participants on the lower floors screamed as the jade walls groaned.

"He… He is at the peak!" the dragon stammered, its spirit form blurring. "Level 100! But no one can reach him! Level 90 is the limit for mortals!"

"Then I'm not a mortal," Noah replied.

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