Hearing his question, High Shaman Zephyra let out a soft, melodic breath that was half-sigh, half-chuckle.
Her milky-white eyes softened, carrying the patient, ancient wisdom of a woman who had guided generations of warriors through the brutal, unforgiving paths of spirit cultivation.
"Esoteric heavenly laws?" Zephyra repeated, shaking her head gently as the fringes of her robes danced in the breeze.
"No, Sol. Those are merely romanticized fairy tales told by people who have never held a blade or felt their own core burn. Reaching Layer 4 has nothing to do with comprehending the sky or meditating under a waterfall for a hundred winters."
"Then what is it?" Sol pressed, his eyes narrowing. "There has to be a method. A formula."
"There is no single formula, Sol," Veylara interjected, her golden voice grounding and firm. "Every warrior who has ever stepped into the Fourth Layer across the entire history of the Great Orrath crossed that threshold in a completely different way.
