Runeblade

His ragged gasp tore at the air, bitter dread cutting through Kaius's fugue and the pounding of his heart. The phantoms were still there. The light, boiling his blood as it cut through his flesh like a scalpel.

The swirling.

His bones seperating; falling to pieces. The slow, encroaching darkness that swallowed him whole.

Kaius doubled over, his eyes still scrunched shut as a wracking shudder rolled through him. He held on to his legs, keeping himself anchored — and reassuring himself they were still attached.

He'd died. Again.

This time had been far far worse. There was no fugue; no shield of exhaustion to blunt and dampen the memory, the feeling of having his soul gutter and fail. The cold.

His eyes stayed closed as his head pounded. How? How was he alive — again? Had he finished the trial?

There was no way. There had been no weight — he hadn't even come close to the end! All it would take is a look, and he would know. Yet he could feel the phantom blade on his neck — the atavistic terror that simmered in the very depths of his heart.

Death. Ending. The final event.

It wasn't something to be experienced twice, let alone a third time — his soul cowered before the wrongness of it all. He should be gone.

Kaius took a shaky breath, martialling his nerve. He had to check — it would be a foul showing to act so weak in front of Xenanra.

Fighting against the instinct within him, Kaius looked around. He found grey stone blocks, a small bed, a simple kitchen, a desk, and a large parchment pinned to a wooden board.

The entrance room. He froze — struggling to comprehend the truth of what lay right in front of him.

He was still here. How?!

Everything within him screamed that it was impossible. An illusion, a mind trap — something. Yet, the experience had left undeniable marks on him — the primacy of that final moment, the guttering of the flame, the death of self stretching into a moment into an aeon. He felt it with his very soul — how could that be faked?

Ascendancy, weaving forces beyond mortal ken with an ease and understanding he couldn't grasp.

But why? What was this place? Why resurrect him and teleport him to the start upon failure?

**Ding! You have challenged the Trial of Obstinance!**

**Meld with the wisdom of Mentis, and prove your ability through sharpness of mind, staunchness of memory, and conviction.**

**Reach the end of the Way of Struggle. Be warned, cowardice has no place on the Path — to forfeit is to accept True Death!**

Kaius jolted, staring at the words that hung in his vision. The notification of the trial starting.

They blinked away, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a flicker from the parchment that was pinned to the war. He snapped to it, wide eyed.

How many hours had he watched it, waiting for the drawing to return? And now, exactly like the first time, it appeared after a notification that shouldn't exist?

The description of the trial — in his experience, the system only provided notifications like that once. Sure, you could pull them back up to review at your leisure, but they didn't repeat.

Yet it had, as had the appearance of the ink on the parchment.

Had he been resurrected? Revived and teleported back to the start of the course? Or was it reversion?

Kaius shook his head, gasping fast and shallowly. That was ridiculous — he wasn't an expert in esoteric magic, but even he knew causality couldn't be broken. It was one of the few constants, one of the rules. For the ascendant to do that…it would have to break the laws of the System.

Wouldn't it?

Yet as much as he wanted to refute it, the evidence stared him right in the face. The elusive nature of the trial, and how it would help him understand The Veteran's Edge on a deeper level — how a course of randomised and unpredictable obstacles could possibly assist with his seed of memory, learning, and planning.

The title of the trial. Obstinance. He would admit that the word fit him — matched up with how he tended to approach problems, and learn from his experiences. Yet…when he considered it with the dark nature of forfeiture, he felt a chill go down his spine.

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What if he was stuck here — in an unending loop — to see whether he would break, or win?

But time magic?

What else could it be? All it took was the quickest look inwards to see that his spells had reset — that the latent quivering shock of VOS had been banished from his body, mind, and soul. Growing ever more pensive, Kaius looked inside his storage rings — and found an extra apple, carrot, and small bag of nuts waiting for him.

Hysteria bubbled its way out of his chest as he clutched his legs tighter. Reversion. Actual, gods' scorned reversion. A causal snap. A shattering of primal law. An impossibility.

He didn't even try to understand how it had been done. It had to be some sort of trick, or there was something fundamentally wrong with his world's conceptualisation of magic. Perhaps he had been resurrected, and the trial had simply been reset? It would be an easier revelation to swallow.

Yet, after his experience with the magnitude of VOS, how could he dare to say he knew the extent of what was possible. Perhaps causality manipulation was as easy as turning a hand for an Ascendant — who even knew how much control Xenanra might have over this crucible? Maybe it was a domain of absolute authority. Maybe it was a trick, a simple gesture to mould a second trial and move him to the start?

Regardless, it was beyond him — and the jealous grasp of death was losing its hold on him.

The important thing was that he was here — that he was alive. That he could try again; perhaps could try as many times as he liked.

He looked back to the parchment that was blank once more and scowled. A second opportunity to observe whatever secrets it held, and he missed it?! The frustration welling up within him was tinged with unexpected shame. He'd lost himself to fear and uncertainty.

Perhaps it was only for a moment, but it had cost him — maybe even his life.

For one, he had no way of knowing if the loop was indefinite. He would have to be cautious, treat every life like his last. At least, for now. If, gods' forbid, he died enough, he could revisit that assumption.

Regardless of what it would mean for his understanding of the world, he hoped that the loop was driven by the breaking of causality. If it was reversion in truth, it would change everything.

This trial would be a long one, he could tell. The obstacles were too complex, too dangerous, and continued for far too long. Even the very starting room provided enough supplies for months — and if it accounted for that, with reversion, he could be here for a truly long time.

Without temporal manipulation…that could ruin everything. He would lose his lead, his friends would have to choose between stalling or leaving him behind, and Old Yon would have all the time he needed to prepare or escape.

On the other hand, this was an opportunity.

If there was one thing he'd been lacking, it was time. To train, and cement his foundation — hells, even just to scrounge a few more resistances from the hodgepodge of toxins that they'd stolen from Old Yon's vault.

That didn't mean it would be easy. Already he chafed under the discomfort of being separated from Porkchop and the rest of his team. He hadn't been truly alone in a year, and having an unbreakable force cut him off from the link between his and his brother's souls left him feeling restless and irritable.

Spending months, perhaps even years, in a nonstop cycle of violent death and rebirth? It would be…a trial of the mind — a test of not just his ability to memorise and learn, but of his willpower and mentality.

He took it back, it was bloody crystal clear how this trial would help him train Mentis. Obstinance. Bloody minded determination — to see if he could struggle in the face of impossibility, and still learn. If he could memorise and improve when the only way to do so was to die.

A grin crept across his face. If that was the case, he would do just fine. If there was one thing he was confident in, it was his ability to throw himself into the fire and come out the other side.

Pushing himself to his feet, Kaius walked to the start of the trial and unleashed his spells. He knew his way through the first few obstacles, and currently he saw no reason not to reuse his previous method.

Watching the chaos of unleashed magic, Kaius grinned to himself and continued his practice with his mana shaping skills. This time, he inscribed more than just Vyrthane. He was confident he could make it to the climbing wall without them, and he reckoned his previous method of traversing that would work just fine with six casts.

For the rest, he focused on Slipstep and Shunt — as well as a few casts of Bound Maelstrom. Hopefully, the spell would help him with unexpected attacks — if he managed to get past the teleport chasm first.

Jogging down the course, he combed his memories with the help of his Glass Mind — watching the path like a hawk as he counted out the flag stones. Mentis picked out details that he'd ignored on his first look — like the fact the first dart trap had landed on a seam between stones, or that it was forty-three blocks before the waist-high wall ahead.

Kaius grinned, sure he knew where the trap had triggered.

This time, for sure — his last run had just been a little bit unlucky.

….

Kaius sat up and sighed, back in the entrance room.

… Shit.

The chasm got him again — or, more accurately, slamming headfirst into the ceiling after a poorly executed VOS Shunt.

Ah well, he supposed it was time to finally see what was on that bloody parchment.