Grimoire of Cultivation

Chapter 7: The Test

Rancito Cordoba's amber skyline greeted the Valdene family – Jarek, Amara, and their young son Darius. On the city's edge, Darius watched in awe as setting sun's light blended with the gentle glow from the city.

The Stellar Tower held his eye, standing tall and bright against the darkening sky. It seemed to reach for the stars, its top shimmering in the fading sunlight. For Darius, this tower was more than a landmark; it was a symbol of power and endless possibilities.

In his former existence on the immortal realm of Penglai, Darius had been privy to marvels that would leave mere mortals breathless. The Empyrean Pagodas that floated amongst the skies, a lost marvel of ingenuity from the ancient mystics. The Diamond-Scale Dragons, beings so colossal they could cradle continents within their coils, their roars echoing like divine thunder. He had gazed upon the towering peak of Kunlun, its majesty so vast that it shattered the vault of the sky, the snow-capped crest lost in an endless sea of cosmic dust.

Yet, the sight of the Stellar Tower evoked a sense of awe in him that was unique. It was as though the heartbeat of this grand monument echoed in sync with his own, the rhythm stirring an intoxicating mix of fear, respect, and thrill that raced in his veins. Its sublime beauty and raw power seemed to hold a strange allure that synced with the memories of his ancient soul, igniting an intense yearning in his heart. Even amongst the splendors of his past life, the mage tower stood as a fresh new wonder that seized his spirit.

"Isn't it wonderful, Darius?" asked Amara, her voice filled with quiet enthusiasm. She held her son close, sharing the spectacle that sparked awe in the young Valdene's eyes. Jarek, the stern yet loving patriarch, nodded approvingly, his gaze tracing the future spectral armor around his son.

Despite the wisdom and knowledge of an 800-year-old cultivator, the magic-infused spectacle of Rancito Cordoba kindled the spark of wide-eyed wonder in Darius, transforming him back into an awestruck child.

Nestled comfortably within the walls of the modest Valdene family residence in the heart of the city, Darius's eyes glimmered with anticipation. The night was restless for the expectant young boy.

In the light of the following day, they set out, guided by the radiance of the Stellar Tower that cut through the early morning mist.

The cobblestone pathways, encrusted with twinkling crystals, hummed under their feet. The fusion of old-world charm with cutting-edge arcane innovation was captivating. The cityscape was marked by imposing buildings, their dark oak frames and white plaster shining under the morning sun. The air was filled with a blend of scents - the earthy aroma of the cobblestones warmed by the heat, the subtle fragrance of freshly cut grass, and a hint of fresh, floral notes carried by a gentle breeze.

The city roared with life, an eclectic blend of races going about their day.

As Darius observed them, he noted the undercurrents of this society, the non-human races of Gaia were confined to the roles of servants, laborers, or even slaves, a harsher side to the city's magical splendor.

Amidst these bleak realities, the marvel of magi-tech was an omnipresent force. Devices such as Crystal Lanterns bathed the city in gentle light, powered by recharging mana crystals. The Telepathy Tomes, a staple in most households, allowed for instant communication over vast distances, their pages whispering messages through the ether. This constant use of mana throughout the city left a faint, ever-present taste of metal in the mouth, a subtle reminder of the pervasive role of the mage towers.

Levitation Carts and carriages weaved their way through the city streets, defying gravity as they transported goods and citizens with seamless efficiency.

As Darius walked through the city, he watched in awe as magic weaved itself into the fabric of daily life, every instance of arcane technology further igniting his fascination for this new world.

After a mesmerizing journey through the city center, their path led them to the foot of the tower, Darius looked up in awe, "the Stellar Tower." As they stood beneath its magnificence, it felt as though they stood at the precipice of a different realm, the tower a bridge between the earth and the void above.

Its structure was a vision to behold, shining with an ivory radiance that enacted an captivating battle with the sunlight. The tower surface was inscribed with elaborate runes and celestial designs. These intricate carvings seemed to pulse with latent power.

In the presence of such splendor, even Darius, steeped in the wisdom of a past life, felt a surge of child-like anticipation. It was an alien landscape, a world yet to be embarked upon.

The Stellar Tower, also known as a 1st Grade Mage Tower, stood as a symbol of its owner's prowess. Mage Towers, categorized into five distinct grades, mirrored the strength and achievements of their proprietors. Upon reaching the 5th tier, mages were bestowed their own towers. Intriguingly, these structures formed a unique bond with their owners, evolving in power as the mages themselves ascended through the tiers. The tower’s primary material, White Sky Stone, was highly prized, sourced from the core of meteorites that descended upon Gaia during the Primordial Age.

Jarek clasped Darius's shoulder firmly, "are you ready, Darius?"

His azure-blue eyes met his father's, "I'm ready."

"Good," Jarek said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. He seemed to want to say more, but the words hung in the silence between them.

Amara filled the silence with her own soft voice, her green eyes reflecting the moonlit tower. "And do you remember what we discussed about the elements, Darius?"

"Yes, mother," Darius replied, his tone composed. "Each color of the array represents a different elemental affinity."

"Exactly," Amara's eyes held a glimmer of pride. "And what of the runic rings?"

"The more that light up, the greater the potential."

"Yes," she nodded. "Just remember, no matter what happens, we're proud of you."

Jarek's hand gave a supportive squeeze on his shoulder. "Your path is your own, Darius. Make us proud."

Darius nodded, his gaze drifting towards the Stellar Tower, its majestic figure standing tall under the sunlight. Inside his mind, a voice echoed with a clarity that belied his tender age, 'I am Darius Valdene, heir to my family, potential mage or knight. I will conquer this tower, navigate its tests, and uncover its secrets.'

------

As the Valdene family crossed the threshold of the mage tower's towering double doors, their hearts danced with a cocktail of anticipation and apprehension. Their guidance came from a young mage apprentice, an attendant with a face as cold and impassive as the stone walls enclosing them.

"With utmost respect, I welcome the esteemed Valdene family," he intoned with an dissatisfied gaze. "Kindly join the other noble families waiting within the entrance."

His voice, flat and devoid of emotion, echoed hauntingly through the tower's vastness. Darius, initially struck by the grandeur of the tower, was drawn to the apprentice's words. He redirected his gaze to four other families, their expressions a mix of excitement and trepidation, much like his own.

As soon as the Valdene's joined the other participants, a circle of runes surrounding them all throbbed with a ghostly green light, an unnerving color that devoured the previously peaceful aura of the hall. Souls of countless races—elves, dwarves, faeries, dryads, among others—erupted into being, their hollowed-out forms floating in a daze.

These spectral beings—sunken, pallid echoes of the vibrant life they once held—began a macabre dance around the attending families. Their twisted forms interwove in a ghastly ballet, a display that lacked the grace of the living, embodying instead the mournful lament of the dead.

Shrieks of terror ricocheted off the tower's stone walls as children succumbed to their fear. "Mommy, make them go away!" cried one. "They're hurting me!" sobbed another, his voice trembling with an uncontrollable terror that turned the blood of the other children to ice.

Yet, amidst the terror that gripped the younger ones, the adults remained unperturbed, their faces stoic. Eyes that should've been filled with concern bore a semblance of disappointment instead, their brows furrowing and lips pressing into thin lines as if the children's dread was a minor inconvenience, a failing.

But amidst the bedlam, Darius remained an island of composure. Fear didn't taint his gaze as he observed the spectacle, his eyes reflecting an alarming level of calm curiosity.

"They're ensuring no other races are hiding among us," his mother, Amara, explained, her voice barely above a whisper. "Only humans are allowed in the mage towers."

Darius nodded, his eyes fixated on the spell. "They use the souls of the elder races, trapping them to identify their own. But don't fret, darling, only the souls of criminals are used for this spell," she calmly assured Darius.

He swallowed his mother's words with a pang of sorrow, although a thread of doubt stubbornly coiled around his heart. Xue Feng's wisdom wasn't easily deceived. As the dance of the souls began to subside, his gaze locked with a elf maiden. A raw surge of emotions – bitter, terrified, pleading – washed over him, her eyes a silent plea to her pain and torment.

'These souls are not screaming in fury or vengeance, they are wailing in pain and despair. They weren't criminals, they were victims.'

Relief washed over the families as the eerie glow of the spell lifted. The attending mage offered a sigh, her eyes betraying a hint of impatience for the collected families. It took a few minutes of scolding by their parents to motivate the traumatized children.

As they finally stepped through the tower's threshold, a spectacle of wonder unfurled before them, the grotesque scene from before, vanishing, like an forgotten dream.The grand hall that welcomed them was astonishingly vast, seemingly bending the laws of space.

High above, the towering ceiling was a canvas for a celestial masterpiece—an orrery not of mundane metal, but of ethereal spheres of energy that depicted the cosmos. Suspended in the air, these globes of radiant light pulsed softly, representing celestial bodies. They rotated in an intricate motion of heavenly mechanics, the orbs' inner lights casting dazzling patterns on the faces of the awe-struck children below.

Their radiance filled the eyes of the young ones with wonder, the reflection of a thousand galaxies sparkling in their widened eyes. The orrery was not merely a model of the cosmos; it was a visual masterpiece of the universe. To the children, this display was a whisper of the futures that lay ahead of them, feeding their imaginations.

The grandeur didn't stop there. The hall itself was a dedication to the arcane, the old-world architecture seamlessly merging with the enchanted surroundings. Impossibly high arches, carved with intricate runes, leapt up to support the ceiling. Walls lined with towering bookshelves were filled to the brim with ancient books and scrolls, their weathered spines imbued with countless centuries of wisdom and knowledge. The scent of old wood and beeswax mingled with a hint of various herbs, permeated the air, adding to the hall’s mystique. Stunning mosaics of gemstones, each glowing with an internal light, adorned the floor in swirling patterns that seemed to move and shift under their feet.

As the families finally arrived in front of a stage at the far end of the hall, Darius finally began to study the noble families present. Each one presented a child, at the tender age of six, standing on the brink of the impending assessment. A lively atmosphere laced the room, yet Darius noticed an odd undercurrent, a certain aloofness that radiated from the other families.

Intrigued, he asked, "Father, why has no one approached us?" his voice perfectly hinting a sense of dissapointment. His question was met with a jovial laugh, and a playful response, "Because they are afraid of me!" Darius inwardly recognized his father's deflection but, lacking the time to delve deeper, simply shared a laugh with his father.

As Jareks laughter began to fade, an almost imperceptible breeze began to stir. What began as a light touch, a whisper of cold wind against skin, steadily gained momentum. It swirled and whirled, growing progressively more aggressive.

The gentle breeze that had barely caressed the corners of the grand hall swelled into a violent gust that whipped through the space, forming a small cyclone right at the stage's center. The sudden display of elemental force gripped the hall in a hushed awe. The vortex spun wildly, a contained maelstrom in a sacred place of learning and magic.

Out of this elemental display, a figure emerged. A man, tall and slender, with razor-sharp facial features and eyes of chilling grey, stepped forth. Unruffled by the whirlwind that had given birth to his entrance, his long, black hair cascaded behind him.

He was clad in a noble's suit jacket, its sleeves casually rolled up, and the back tapering down to his heels in two elegant tails. The ensemble, completed with a white dress shirt, a black waistcoat, and trousers, exuded an air of relaxed nonchalance and indifference.

The eerie silence of the hall was broken as the wind mage spoke, his presence potent and imposing. "Welcome to this year's test. I, am Rainslif Crowley."

A jolt of excitement rushed through him from Rainslif’s entrance. He had come here for this – the test, the chance to show his worth, and his first step towards the systems of Gaia. He looked at Crowley with a firm resolve, his young eyes burning with a mixture of anticipation and confidence.