Chapter 16: The Phoenix's Trial
Troy felt the air shift the moment he stepped into the trial grounds. It was as if the room itself had come alive, a current of ether swirling around him, pressing against his skin. He paused, his eyes scanning the dimly lit chamber, the strange spiraling symbols etched into the walls glowing faintly in the darkness.
Then, a voice echoed in his head, smooth and emotionless, like a whisper that bypassed his ears and spoke directly to his mind.
"Welcome to the Phoenix's Trial. In this trial, you will be tested on your resilience and ability to overcome hardship. Teleporting participant to the first location."
Before Troy could react, he felt a sudden pull—a force that grabbed him from the inside and wrenched him out of place. His vision blurred, the chamber around him dissolving into darkness. For a heartbeat, there was nothing—no light, no sound, only the weightless sensation of being nowhere.
And then he was somewhere.
The darkness shattered, replaced by a sudden burst of light. Troy staggered, his feet hitting solid ground. He blinked, disoriented, his vision slowly coming back into focus. He was no longer in the chamber. The air was colder here, the light dim and red, like the dying embers of a fire.
A voice echoed again, but this time there was a new edge to it—a note of something almost amused.
"Real ascender detected. Increasing difficulty."
Troy's heart skipped a beat. Increasing difficulty? He barely had time to process the words before he heard the sound. A low growl, deep and resonant, vibrating through the floor beneath his feet.
He turned, and his breath caught in his throat.
Standing across the room was a massive, humanoid figure—covered in thick, black fur, its eyes glinting like molten gold. A snarl curled from its lips, revealing rows of sharp, white teeth. It was a wolf—a monstrous, bipedal creature with clawed hands and muscles that rippled beneath its matted coat. Troy's stomach twisted with recognition. He knew this creature.
The wolf was one of the enemy races—a species that humanity had been in conflict with for as long as anyone could remember. In Base 0, they were a horror story, a warning used to scare children. But here, in Base 1, they were very real. And very dangerous.
The beast was large, towering over him, its shoulders broad, its limbs thick with muscle. But even as Troy took in the sight of it, something else clicked in his mind—a detail that cut through the fear.
It was young.
He could tell from the size, the way its limbs seemed a little too long, its posture not quite fully developed. A juvenile, then. That should have been a relief, but it wasn't. Even a young member of this species was dangerous. And Troy... he didn't have the experience, the training that others in Base 1 had. He had only just arrived. He wasn't ready for this.
The wolf growled again, its lips pulling back, and Troy felt his pulse quicken. How am I supposed to beat this thing?
The air was thick with ether, the energy from the trial swirling around them, and Troy could feel it—the weight of the challenge pressing down on him. The voice had said resilience. This wasn't just about fighting. This was about surviving, about enduring whatever the trial threw at him.
The wolf's eyes locked onto his, and it moved—a sudden, powerful lunge that sent it hurtling across the room toward him, claws outstretched.
Troy reacted on instinct, throwing himself to the side, the wolf's claws missing him by inches. He hit the ground hard, rolling and coming up on his feet, his heart pounding in his chest. The beast was fast—faster than he had anticipated. And strong. If it got its hands on him, he wouldn't stand a chance.
He had to think. He had to stay calm.
The wolf turned, snarling, its eyes blazing with a predatory light. It moved again, circling him, its muscles rippling beneath its fur. Troy could feel the adrenaline flooding his veins, the ether in the air buzzing in his mind, and he forced himself to focus. He couldn't overpower it—not physically. He wasn't at that level yet. But he was in Base 1. He had ether. He could use it.
Troy took a deep breath, centering himself, feeling the pulse of energy in his body. He didn't have a weapon, nothing to fight with but his bare hands and his mind. But that would have to be enough.
The wolf lunged again, and this time Troy didn't dodge. He stepped forward, his hands moving with precision, catching the creature's arm and using its momentum to pivot, redirecting it past him. It wasn't perfect—he felt the claws graze his side, a sharp pain flaring as they tore through his shirt—but it worked. The wolf stumbled, its balance thrown off, and Troy used the opportunity to put distance between them.
Focus. Control.
The words echoed in his mind, a mantra that kept him steady. He could feel the ether in the air, flowing through him, making his movements sharper, his thoughts clearer. He wasn't as strong as the wolf, but he could be smarter. He had to be.
The wolf recovered, its golden eyes narrowing, and Troy saw something change in its expression—a flicker of frustration, a hint of hesitation. It didn't understand why he wasn't running, why he wasn't afraid. And that was something he could use.
Troy moved first this time, lunging toward the creature, his body low, his eyes locked on its movements. The wolf reacted, swinging its claws at him, but Troy was ready. He ducked beneath the blow, his hand shooting out to strike at its knee—a quick, sharp blow that sent the wolf staggering.
It wasn't enough to bring it down, but it was enough to give him another opening. He moved again, faster this time, his fists striking out, each blow aimed at a joint, a weak point. He wasn't trying to overpower it. He was trying to break it down, piece by piece.
The wolf roared, its claws slashing out wildly, but Troy didn't stop. He could feel the ether flowing through him, sharpening his reflexes, guiding his movements. Every strike, every dodge, every step was deliberate, calculated. He could feel the exhaustion creeping in, the burn in his muscles, but he pushed it aside. He couldn't afford to stop. Not now.
The wolf lunged one final time, its claws aimed at his throat, and Troy saw his chance. He moved, twisting his body, his hand shooting out to catch the creature's wrist. With a surge of ether, he pulled, using the wolf's own momentum to send it crashing to the ground. It hit hard, the impact echoing through the chamber, and for a moment, there was silence.
Troy stood there, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body aching, the ether in his veins flickering like a dying flame. He looked down at the wolf, its chest heaving, its golden eyes wide with shock. It wasn't dead, but it was beaten.
Troy took a step back, his legs unsteady, his vision swimming. He had done it. He had survived.
The voice echoed in his mind once more, calm and emotionless.
"Trial complete. Preparing next challenge."
Troy's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. Next challenge? He barely had time to process the words before the room began to shift, the walls dissolving into light, the ground beneath his feet disappearing.
And then he was falling, the world around him dissolving into darkness once again.
No rest. No reprieve.
The Phoenix's Trial had only just begun.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone