The Trial of Awakening

The Arena of the Divine Tree

The Arena Awakens

The Crystal Forest wasn’t just beautiful. It was terrifying.

At its heart rose the Divine Tree — a giant older than Heaven itself. Gold bark gleamed like hammered suns, branches splitting the clouds as if daring the sky itself.

Stories said the First God King planted it. Some whispered his essence still pulsed inside. Nobody knew.

Around it stretched the Arena — walls of crystal etched with runes, vast enough to hold armies.

At its trunk’s center shimmered a seam of light. The portal. The mouth of destiny.

And today, it was open.

Above, illusions bloomed — sky-screens cast by the Starforge of the Seventh Legion, . They would show every child’s trial.

The whole of Heaven leaned forward.
And every head tilted toward me.
Lucky me.

My father — Tenjin, the God King — pressed his palm against the bark.

The entire Arena quaked. The seam widened like a golden eye. Mana spilled so thick my lungs burned with every breath.

Only the God King could wake the Tree.

Whispers cut through the silence:

“The God King has spoken to the Tree.”
“The portal is open.”
“Today, the heir awakens.”

Perfect. Just what I needed. A few hundred thousand witnesses.

One by one, children stepped forward. Sons of high deities, daughters of ministers, heirs of nobles.

The Tree swallowed them, and the sky-screens revealed their fears.

A boy faced a river of fire. He screamed the whole time but somehow split it. Crimson leaves shimmered. Fire.
(Congrats. You’re now Heaven’s personal torch.)

A girl fought a storm of knives. She stumbled, bled, then screamed “Ventus!” until the wind bent. Green leaves. Wind.
(Basically the human version of a desk fan. Inspiring.)

Another collapsed mid-trial. The Tree spat him out shaking, leaves unmoved. Silence heavier than stone.
(Worse than death: public failure with bad lighting.)

The crowd gasped, sighed, applauded like it was festival entertainment instead of kids almost dying. Every leaf that lit pressed harder on my chest.

And then came Kael.

Kael Arval strode forward with the swagger of a boy trying to hide his shaking hands. His father, Minister Arval, leaned forward in the stands, eyes like knives.

Kael touched the Tree. The portal devoured him.

The screens lit: a black forest. Phantom Beasts slithered from the shadows. His childhood terror. The one story everyone whispered about him.

His sword wavered. His knees nearly buckled. For a heartbeat, he looked five years old again, shivering in the dark.

The crowd murmured. Ministers exchanged sharp glances. Arval’s jaw clenched.

And then Kael roared. His blade flashed, arcs of steel and fury. One beast fell. Then another. Until the forest collapsed into light.

The Tree answered. Violet-white leaves — lightning.

The crowd gasped. Then a second glow rippled through the branches — silver-gold, Divine Gift.

The Arena erupted. Priests shouted praises. Nobles clapped like their hands could buy glory.

Kael stumbled out pale, barely caught by attendants. His lips curled into a bloodless smirk.

I muttered, “Perfect. Now he has lightning and an ego boost. The world trembles.”

But inside, my chest twisted. He had faced his fear and beaten it. Could I?

Lyra’s Trial

Then came Lyra.

The crowd hushed as if Heaven itself leaned closer. Even the wind froze.

She touched the Tree. The portal claimed her.

The screens lit: a storm. Winds howled. Frost climbed the ground.

At the center, Lyra glowed faint green. She lifted her hands. The winds bent, softened. Another gesture — frost spiraled, sculpting towers of ice.

Then came the light: silver-gold healing spilling warmth, weaving into the storm until it calmed like a tamed beast.

The Tree blazed threefold:

The Arena thundered. Ministers scribbled. Priests sang “prodigy.”

I clapped too, tighter than I should’ve.
“Oh sure, Lyra. Rewrite the weather, heal the storm, casually juggle elements like it’s arts and crafts. Totally fair.”

She emerged pale, hair damp with sweat, but smiling steady. Her eyes found mine.

“Your turn, Haise.”

And I swore the Tree pulsed harder at her words.

Silence. Not quiet — silence.

Every noble, soldier, minister, and priest turned toward me. The Son of the God King. The heir.

My mouth was sand-dry. Sarcasm tried to save me.
Great. No pressure. Just walk into a world tree and either become a legend or the kingdom’s biggest disappointment. Easy.

The Tree pulsed faint gold. Waiting.

My mother, Yumi, leaned forward in the royal stand. Her knuckles white, her lips trembling, but her eyes steady: Whatever it takes, my son.

My father didn’t move. Didn’t need to. His presence pressed heavier than mountains. His vow coiled around me: ripple the world.

I stepped forward. Each step echoed louder than the crowd’s cheers for Kael and Lyra combined.

The bark was warm, alive, like the chest of a sleeping giant.

The portal yawned open.

The crowd leaned forward. The sky-screens flared—

And froze.

The Blank Screen

Static. Nothing.

Gasps sliced the silence.

“Why can’t we see?”
“Is he… rejected?”

My mother’s hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes wide with panic. My father’s jaw tightened, golden sparks burning faint around him.

Ministers whispered sharp, venomous. Soldiers shifted uneasily.

And in the stands, Minister Arval’s eyes narrowed. His lips curved, a smirk barely hidden behind his hand. The heir falters. Perhaps the whispers will turn to me.

But the screens stayed blank.

Only the Tree glowed, swallowing me whole.

The last thing I saw: my mother’s tears, my father’s blazing eyes.

And me thinking:
“Oh sure. Blank screen. Technical difficulties during my big moment. Classic.”

And then—darkness.

Into the Unknown

The crowd screamed. The leaves stayed still. The screens blank.

But me?

I was gone.

Into the heart of the Tree.
Into the secret no one else could see.

Whatever waited inside was mine alone to face.

Me? All I thought as the portal swallowed me was:

“Fantastic. Blank screen, mysterious silence, half the crowd panicking. Exactly the subtle entrance I was going for.”

End of Chapter 5 — The Arena of the Divine Tree