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108. Stair Climbing
🕑 Added 2024-03-18 14:00:05 +0000 UTCA moment later, Oz clenched his teeth. Resolution flowed through him, firm as the wood beneath his feet. No. No! I refuse. I refuse to give up! I will conquer these stairs, and continue to grow stronger. This is not my limit!
He stood there, on that stair, and circulated his qi. Over and over, slowly drawing in qi from his surroundings, filling his newly-expanded core.
Right. This is what the books said to do. Consolidate my realm…it’s as Linnea said. I need to consolidate! I’ll do everything the books told me to do—all of it! Whether it’s a mage strengthening their qi passages or a martial mage strengthening their muscles and bones, or a scholarly mage reinforcing their mind, I’ll do all of it. All of it!
I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll stand here and cultivate until it’s done. If I back down now, I’ll never climb back up. If I admit defeat now, I’ll admit defeat forever. Right now, right here, I need to clear the impassable block that is the second floor. If I can’t do that right now, I’ll create an even firmer block in my mind—one that I will never be able to break until the day I die!
Oz took the qi and pushed it out from his core. One inch at a time, expanding out from his core, he infused qi into the walls of his qi passages. The qi enriched the passages and strengthened them. The stronger they became, the more qi he could push through them, the further he could strengthen his qi passages.
From his qi passages, he slowly pushed the qi outward, into his body. The qi from his reinforced qi passages sank into his muscles, making them stronger.
This isn’t going to complete my strengthening. I need to do this daily, over and over, until the qi remains imbued in my body forever. I can’t do it all at once, or else I’ll get qi poisoning, not to mention risking a qi deviation. But I don’t have to be at the peak of the second stage immediately. All I need to do, is begin the process enough to qualify as stepping onto the second stage. Begin the process enough to qualify in Madame Saoirse’s eyes!
Qi infused his legs, penetrating to his leg bones. His foot lifted a little more, a little more, and he placed it firmly on the next step. The weight on his shoulders grew, pressing him back, almost a physical block. Oz gritted his teeth and pushed against it, his grip on the railing tightening, knuckles pure white. He paused there, breathing heavily. Sweat ran down his back, soaking his robes. He turned his eyes upward, staring at the apex. So close. So close!
At the bottom of the stairs, Linnea crossed her arms. She watched him climb, her eyes on his back. After a moment, she shook her head and looked away, scoffing under her breath, though with a note of jealousy to it.
Between two stairs, he stood there, barely holding on. He continued to push qi into his body, imbuing it into every fiber of his muscles and every ounce of his bones. The qi shimmered over his body, almost full to capacity. He couldn’t do it all at once. His body refused any more qi. Oz waited for it to fully absorb, simply breathing and gathering more qi, focusing on holding on. A little longer. He held on, struggling against the urge to let go. Even as his legs ached and his spine curved under the weight, he refused to step down.
He pushed, stepping onto the final step. Immediately, double the previous weight slammed into him. His knees buckled. The stairs rushed up at him, welcoming him down.
Seconds before he fell, Oz caught himself. He grabbed onto the stair at the top, barely keeping himself up on four legs. His whole body shook. His bones creaked. Oz held on, breathing, absorbing qi. His eyes blurred.
This isn’t enough. What else do I need to do? Come on. There has to be something! Something in the manuals I read!
Crouching on the top step, he desperately searched out all the books that mentioned stairs or stair trials in their glossaries. His brows furrowed.
…classic trial. Prepare yourself in body and mind before you seek to defeat this obstacle…
Oz shook his head. Useless. I figured that part out myself.
Great pressure will weigh upon the body. Sometimes, the trial will also send phantoms or illusions to test the trial-taker’s mental balance…
He twisted his lips, looking around. No illusions or phantoms jumped out at him. He turned to his mental state, examining it. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Rolling his shoulders, he shook his head. A huge weight weighed on his shoulders, but that was it. No further attacks jumped out at him. He searched out another passage.
Hundred- or thousand-stair trials can take days, weeks, even months to complete. Do not lose faith.
Looking at the ten or so stairs, Oz chuckled and shook his head. Not the case. Not this time, anyways.
Yet, the last passage…Oz turned it over in his head again, once more examining it. Years, or months. He gazed at the stairs, then took a deep breath. Rather than giving up, or trying to force himself to grow stronger, this time, he simply stood still.
Time passed. The qi absorbed into his body, and filled his core. He absorbed more qi, and once more pushed it into his body. Just an inch, he straightened up, but no more.
Progress. His eyes lit up, and Oz grinned. Not immediate success, but progress toward success. The first step toward passing the trial. All he needed was time. Not attacking it, not forcibly strengthening himself, but time.
One step at a time. One wave of qi, slowly sunk into his body. Oz enriched himself one pass at a time, consolidating his realm and strengthening his body and qi passages. With every pass, the weight grew less, and the strain on his body weakened. From his knees, he pushed up to his feet, then slowly straightened to stand at a curve, then upright. He lifted his foot. His leg ached, the weight of his foot heavy, but he could lift it. Firmly, he placed his foot onto the final step, and rose up onto the second floor.
Gold light washed over him. The tattoo on his arm glowed, shimmering with the same gold light. It climbed from his wrist toward his elbow, then burst out. A second ring appeared around his wrist.
From the desk, Madame Saoirse’s voice echoed out. “Ossian Vestal: Authority granted for the second floor.”
