Chapter 71: The Pavilion of the Five Paths (Part 1)
Dawn cast its first rays over the immense western plaza of Skull Rock. The desert wind blew cold, but the earth beneath their boots still vibrated with the echo of battles and the residual magic of the previous days. The air was thick, heavy with an almost electric anticipation.
There, away from the rest of the fortress's disciples and guards, the twenty-one monsters of the Morningstar Empire congregated. The Vanguard, the Captains, and the First Disciple. Kael adjusted the bandages on his wrists, Bren cracked the knuckles of his immense hands, and Elara, rocking on her heels, smiled at a stoic Joren who royally ignored her playful attitude.
Suddenly, the sky above the plaza distorted. The clouds parted violently, pushed by a pressure that made everyone present look up, silencing any murmurs.
It was not built; it descended from the heavens.
A mystical and colossal structure landed in the center of the plaza without emitting the slightest sound of impact. It was a seven-level pagoda, forged entirely of astral obsidian, a dark and deep metal that seemed to contain a starry, constantly moving sky within it. Each of the tower's seven floors rotated on its own axis independently, slowly and majestically. The movement of the cosmic masonry emitted a low-frequency hum that oppressed the soul, forcing those present to stabilize their breathing to avoid getting dizzy.
At the base of the structure, instead of wood or steel doors, hung a veil of liquid mercury, dense and reflective, rippling as if it were breathing.
Samael Morningstar walked until he stopped in front of the pagoda's entrance. He did not wear his ceremonial crown, only his dark tunic and the deep gaze of a patriarch who knows that the true war is just looming on the horizon.
The twenty-one chosen formed perfect ranks instantly, maintaining absolute martial respect.
"You hold a title," Samael began, his deep voice gliding over the stone and sinking into his family's bones. "But a title without the power to back it up is just a target painted on your backs. The Ancient Sects and the courts of the central continent will come for us. If you do not unearth your weaknesses and incinerate them, you will die out there."
The Patriarch pointed to the majestic starry tower behind him.
"This is the Pavilion of the Five Paths. An artifact of absolute refinement. You will not enter with your bodies; you will enter with your minds. Once you cross that veil of mercury, you will experience extreme temporal compression: one day in the real world will equal ten days of combat, suffering, and cultivation inside the pagoda."
A murmur of contained astonishment ran through the ranks. Ten days of experience for every physical day was a treasure that the millennial sects would kill to possess.
Samael raised a hand, demanding silence, his expression turning severe.
"Listen closely, for your lives depend on this. The damage you suffer inside will be real mental damage. You will feel every cut, every burn, and every broken bone. If your spirit's damage reaches eighty percent, you will be forcibly expelled. But if your mind breaks before being expelled, your bodies in this courtyard will never open their eyes again."
Samael's gaze lingered on Kael, on Eris, and finally on Elara, knowing the stubbornness and pride of his most lethal students.
"The tower has seven levels. However, your current cultivation anchors you to the Origin Realm. Therefore, floors four through seven are strictly sealed to you. Whoever lets arrogance blind them and tries to force the barriers to the higher domains will have their consciousness erased and be left in an irreversible vegetative state. I have distributed your trials among the first three levels, according to the flaws I have observed in each of you. You will cleanse your elements, master your arts, and face your own demons."
Samael took a step back, spreading his arms. He channeled his immense spatial authority. The space around the western plaza folded upon itself, forming a translucent, impenetrable dome that isolated the twenty-one warriors from the rest of the mountain. In the shadows of the dome, the immense scarlet eyes of Abaddon, the Guardian Spirit, shone with ferocity, guaranteeing that not even an insect would disturb the place.
"Your bodies will be safe under my compression and Abaddon's watchful eye," the Patriarch affirmed, the tone of his voice softening slightly, revealing the father and master who protected them. "I am not sending you to die, I am sending you to be forged. Sit. And let the crucible begin."
Without hesitation, Kael was the first to sit in the lotus position on the cold stone. Violeta, Aylin, Bren, and the others followed. Elara winked at the mercury statue before sitting down, her sadistic smile just beneath the surface. In unison, they closed their eyes and regulated their breathing.
Twenty-one threads of spiritual light, invisible to mortal eyes, detached from their foreheads and were gently sucked in by the pagoda's liquid mercury veil. Their bodies went motionless, like warrior statues in a deep slumber.
Samael observed them for a moment in silence, ensuring the spatial dome was stable, and then disappeared in a blink.
At the very top of the main tower, the throne room was bathed in morning light.
Samael emerged from the spatial distortion and walked toward the center of the immense room. There, sitting with supreme elegance in one of the jade armchairs, was Seraphina. Her silver-blue hair fell like a cascade of moonlight over her shoulders, and her deep, almost translucent blue eyes, framed by that characteristic silver ring, watched her husband with a mixture of love and imperial expectation. Beside her, Great Elder Lilith leaned on her staff, her Phoenix aura radiating a comforting heat.
"Are they all safe in their mental chambers?" Seraphina asked, gently rocking Celeste's crib with a flick of her finger.
"They are," Samael replied.
The Patriarch raised his right hand toward the empty space in the center of the throne room and snapped his fingers. The arrays of the Pavilion of the Five Paths, linked to their owner's authority, responded instantly.
The air in the room hummed, and five immense screens of projected light materialized, floating a couple of meters off the ground. The images were sharp, broadcasting in real-time what the minds of his disciples were about to experience on the different levels of the starry tower.
Lilith approached, her wrinkled eyes scrutinizing the screens.
"You have divided them wisely. Destructive monsters together, strategists on another side, the shadow ones in their own hell..."
"If they fight together, they rely on each other's strengths to hide their own weaknesses," Samael explained, crossing his arms as he watched the first screen, where Bren, Maren, Lys, and Xylia were falling into the burning stage of Floor 1. "Here, there is nowhere to hide."
On the floating screens, the virtual environments began to form around the confused minds of the warriors. Skies of fire, crystal seas, and infinite mirrors were born from the astral obsidian.
Seraphina stood up and walked until she stopped next to Samael, resting a pale hand on his arm. Her pale sapphire eyes fixed on the screen where Elara, Kael, and Violeta were about to discover the horror of Floor 2.
"May the gods of their minds have mercy on them," Seraphina murmured.
"There are no gods in that tower," Samael replied, his violet eyes reflecting the light of the broadcasts. "There are only mirrors. And sometimes, one's own reflection is the cruelest executioner."