Rebirth of the Fallen Zenith.-Chapter 36: Trial of the Forgotten Waters.

Trial of the Forgotten Waters.

"The Trial of the Forgotten Waters."

Orion observed as sigils flowered under her, runes intertwining water like incandescent etchings from a bygone era.

Orion's brows furrow. "Trial of the Forgotten Waters?"

The spirit cocked her head, smiling with muted wistfulness.

"So many desire strength. But forget what was drowned in order to gain it. This place... recalls."

The lake quieted.

"Seven questions I will ask you—each a question is gate locked by truth. The question drawn from pillars of existence of trial taker. Each correct answer brings you closer to the legacy. One wrong..."

"And you die."

There was silence. Only the gentle lapping of water against stone.

"Are you ready, human?"

Orion moved forward. His sword was down. His back straight. But his fingers shook a little.

"I have no chance to lose. If this is the way, I have to go to save them. then I'll slash through it."

The eyes of the spirit gentled.

"Then we start."

She brought her hand up.

The spirit held out her palm to him. A droplet hovered over it, A silver lotus bloomed in the air, every petal inscribed with shimmering runes. The spirit brought up her arm, and with it, the first petal illuminated—its veins gently pulsing.

First Question: "What is the essence that holds everything together... but can't be found?

What moves through the soul of man, beast, and stone—

but is owned by none, and belonged to all?"

The world around him dimmed. The forest went gray. Time itself dragged.

Orion closed his eyes.

The first idea was mana—but that might be controlled, absorbed, tainted. No, this wasn't about cultivation or strength. This was about essence. The fiber that stitches being itself together.

"Life," he breathed. "Not merely breath or blood. But the common current running through all things. Spirit. The beat of being that runs through everything."

The lotus petal opened—and blended into his chest like a sigh of heat.

Right.

Second Question: "What is left when hope is lost?

When love is dead, and the soul is broken—

What power still compels man to rise from shambles?"

Death. Betrayal. The day Shia impaled him with her sword. How he fought his way back—born again not for revenge, but for something... more.

"Will," he replied. "The indomitable will to get up. Even in the absence of sense.

Another lotus petal drifted into his heart.

Correct.

Third Question: "Who are you when no one is watching?

When name and fame are stripped away—

What remains of your truth?"

This time, the silence lasted longer.

He was no longer a prince. Not a hero. Not the strongest. In this life, he was merely... Orion. But deep, deep down, under all the armor...

He whispered, to himself, really, "A protector."

Even without temples or titles. Even without a sword. His essence never changed.

"I am someone who guards what he cares about. Even if no one notices it."

The third petal flowed through his body like a soft breeze.

Correct.

Fourth Question: "What is the first thing you lost...

that you never knew you missed?"

Agony sliced through him. Not from the trial, but from memory.

A gentle hand combing through his hair. A lullaby, forgotten so long. A smile that had felt like home.

His first mother.

She died in his previous life, before he'd even learned her name. And yet... he'd missed her. Missed her terribly. Always had.

"My mother," he spoke on, cracking. "From my previous life. I never actually knew her... but her absence has tormented me forever."

The fourth petal disintegrated with a soft sigh.

Correct.

The spirit's eyes stayed on him longer this time.

She saw the wound that he bore. The one that no sword could mend.

Fifth Question: "Power or peace?

If you had to choose only one...

Which would you be?"

The decision hurt.

In his previous life, he had opted for power—and lost peace. In this life, he desired peace—but understood that power was the only protection for those he cared about.

He looked up.

"Power," he replied. "But for the sake of defending the peace I desire."

The petal throbbed.

Answer accepted.

Not wrong. Not right. But comprehended.

The lake recognized him.

Sixth Question: "If eternity were granted to you...

and everything you loved turned to dust—

would you continue to move forward?"

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Orion paused.

What sense would there be in immortality if all connections withered to ash?

And yet... he found himself thinking about Celia. About Sera. About Elara's laughter. If he could save them even a little bit longer... wasn't it all worth it?

He grit his teeth.

"Yes," he said. "If I could keep their tales alive... even if I am alone... I would continue."

The petal dissolved to gold as it entered his heart.

Correct.

Seventh Question: "If the world cursed you...

and the heavens branded you as the enemy..."

would you still save it?"

This one cut deepest.

His past life had already provided the answer to this question. Betrayed. Vilified. Forgotten. He had bled for a world that spat on his name.

And yet... here he stood.

His voice was firm now. No tremble.

"Yes."

"Even if they hate me," he whispered, "I won't become what they fear. I won't let them fall."

"I was born to protect. Whether the world loves me or damns me."

The last lotus petal shone blinding white—and dissolved into his chest.

The lake burst with radiance.

The last lotus petal glowed with otherworldly light—pure white, blinding, godly.

It drifted softly towards Orion's chest, and the instant it made contact with him—

Fwooom.

It dissolved into his chest.

The lake burst.

A deafening buzz vibrated as the glass-like surface of the lake broke into ripples, then into a full-bodied earthquake that shook through the forest floor. A wave of silver light burst skyward from the lake, staining the trees, the sky, and even the clouds with ethereal radiance. The once-calm waters churned like a storm trapped in silence, pulsating with energy older than time itself.

Above the shaking surface, one lotus flower emerged—its petals dispersing into rays of light that curled up into the sky. From inside the center of the water, the spirit emerged again, her shape shining brighter than ever before, she shone like moonlight contained within a human shape—peaceful, timeless, divine.

"Congratulations, human," she declared, her tone warm but calm. "You passed the Trial of the Forgotten Waters."

Orion froze for an instant, his heart pounding in shock.

Orion blinked. "I..." he breathed, anchoring himself. "So, it's done. I actually passed?"

The spirit nodded. Her hand rose— slowly, elegant but controlled.

The water below reacted like a beast responding to its master.

It parted.

A shining object rose from the lake's center, ascending with a soft hum. Droplets followed behind it, falling like tears of starlight.

Orion squinted.

A ring.

The ghost nodded. "Take it. This. is your reward."

Orion moved forward; his eyes fixed on the hovering object. The ring floated toward him slowly, above his extended palm. He watched it closely—black and silver, smooth but old. The band was inscribed with a delicate lotus flower, etched in lines so thin they glimmered in the light.

".Is this.

"A... storage ring?" Orion whispered, his tone low with incredulity.

The ghost nodded softly. "Yes. It is."

To anyone but Orion, the sentence might've been straightforward. But to him. they cut deeper than any knife.

A storage ring. In this age, those two words were myth more than reality—a treasure of treasures.

In his previous life, they were already scarce, stashed away by bloodlines and the most powerful cultivators of lore. But since the Great Collapse ancient time and in this new time the craft of smithing rings like these had seemingly disappeared into the annals of history. The runes, the magic—the wisdom itself was lost to the sands of time.

Now, in this world, storage rings were so scarce they were essentially priceless. Fewer than a dozen survived, locked and sealed away by noble families or the empire's highest-ranking officials. A few affluent merchants sold them on black markets on occasion, where bidding wars would rage like brushfires.

Even the weakest storage ring—scarcely strong enough to hold a sack of grain—cost five platinum coins. Enough to purchase an entire estate.

Their manufacture was nearly non-existent. Fewer than a handful of enchanters knew even snippets of the old craft, and those who were able to manufacture them were controlled or guarded by great houses. To possess a storage ring... was to bear the burden of status, wealth, and untouchable power.

And yet... here it was. In Orion's hand.

"This ring," the spirit went on, "is part of the legacy of the Great Ancient Sage... Sage Paradox."

Orion's eyes widened, every muscle in his body straining.

He stared at her, voice shaking, "Sage Paradox...?" he repeated, voice trembling. "You mean the Sage Paradox? The one they referred to as the God of Time and Space?"

The spirit nodded, serene as always. "Yes, The very same."

Shock swept over Orion like a tsunami. Sage Paradox was a legend —one of the strongest cultivators in the history of Eldora. A being whose control over time and space defied the laws of reality. His name was inscribed in the annals of history. Orion had learned his tales in his previous existence—accounts of how he warped time in combat, creased space with a stride, and eliminated entire legions with a flick of his wrist. His demise had been documented more than ten millennia before. His heritage was believed to be lost—permanently.

Orion stood rigidly, eyes fixed on the ring, his mind reeling.

If this reality is discovered... if someone finds out that I bear Sage Paradox's name. wars will break out. Kingdoms will suffer for a share of this power. This. this was not fate. This was something more. Something ingrained in the very depths of this world.

He gazed up at the ghost, his tone low and guarded. "Why me?"

"Because you finish a test left behind by him," she said matter-of-factly. "And fate picked you out. Or maybe... you stretched out and took fate."

Orion stared again at the ring. But the voice of the spirit tugged at him once more.

"Take the ring, man. Squeeze your blood on it and take your birthright."

Orion nodded in silence. He glanced down at the ring and picked it up delicately. The metal was icy to the touch, but it vibrated softly—like it responds to his touch.

He used the thin blade from his belt to prick the tip of his left index finger.

A drop of blood formed, then dropped onto the lotus-engraved ring.

Hummmm—

The ring had been imbued with a light. Strings of delicate runes stirs, curling with silver radiance. The lotus sigil glimmered and a soothing thrum vibrated his skeletal system.

"You are now the official heir to this legacy," said the ghost somberly.

Orion blinked slowly, taking in the magnitude of it.

Then he looked at her. "Now, what about you?"? What becomes of you now?"

The ghost inclined her head in a slight question. "Human... before I spoke, would you like me to know your name? I... I'm sorry. I never asked."

Orion narrowed his eyes. ".You did not ask when I did"

And wonder why this sprit little strange.

She chuckled mirthfully in sorrow. "No one ever passed. They all died. I guess... I never assumed anyone would get through. Why learn a name you'd never recall?

He gazed at her, then nodded and said, "Orion... Orion Vale."

"Orion...," she echoed, as though memorizing it. "Then recall what I said. I mentioned before—I belong to the legacy. Therefore, I'll accompany you."

Orion blinked. "Accompany you? How?"

"See your ring," she said, her voice now stern. "You'll see a painting within. Show it to me.

Orion focused his will into the ring. The inner space expanded in his mind—huge, organized, packed with things:

A few very old scrolls. Shiny weapons with odd runes. A couple of tightly closed pill bottles. A big black boulder charged with weak energy... And against the wall, a rolled scroll.

He called it.

A rolled painting extended long in his hands. The substance wasn't parchment or cloth—it was like ancient leather, but of what animal, he had no idea. It vibrated slightly with ancient power.

He slowly unrolled it.

On it was painted a huge, green tree—towering high, vibrant with life. Around the tree, a serene landscape of grass and living things. At the base of its huge roots were two eggs—one black, one white—glowing softly.

Orion experienced a surge of life run through him just from its presence.

"What... what painting is this?" he asked. "I feel... refreshed. Renewed. Like... like I'm living in a manner I wasn't before."

The spirit floated in the background, observing him with a soft face.

I know you're inquisitive, Orion," she said. "And I do want to tell you. But I'm a prisoner of the rules of the legacy. You will discover something inside the ring that will bring you the knowledge of painting and legacy."

He nodded, acknowledging her limitation.

Then he said, "So how do you... enter into the painting?"

She smiled softly. "Observe."

She lifted her hand.

The lake's waters churned wildly, then rose into the air in massive streams. Instantly, the water condensed into one ribbon, swirling towards the painting—and disappeared into it, never touching Orion or the scroll.

The lake had vanished.

In its stead stood only a muddy pit.

Even floating, the spirit drifted towards him. She edged closer to the scroll.

Orion took a step back hastily and held up his hand. "Wait."

She paused, surprised.

"First," Orion said, glancing behind him at the unconscious forms of Elara and Miss Voss, "heal my sister and And Miss Voss. Please."

The spirit blinked. Then she smiled. With a flick of her wrist, the lingering mist dispersed. The sounds of the forest returned—birds chirping, wind rustling, and the distant roar of magical beasts.

The sun still hung high overhead—as if no time had passed.

"Time in the mist was arrested," she described. "Within, you were there for endless hours. Beyond, it was but an instant. They will awaken soon—completely replenished."

Orion looked to the motionless bodies of Elara and Lysandra. Relief filled his chest.

He nodded in relief. "Thanks," he spoke softly.

"Yes... may I leave?" she inquired.

He nodded again.

Her shape rippled and changed—silk-like, liquid silver. She flowed into the painting, becoming part of it.

The painting trembled in his hand lightly.

The scroll trembled very lightly.

With a whispered breath, Orion closed it around himself and rolled up the painting to place inside the ring once again.

The mist had dissolved. The lake disappeared. Quiet existed now alone.

Elara and Miss Voss beside him remained sleeping still, none aware of what occurred.

And something still was changed though.

No. everything changed.

Inside, the tempest had begun brewing within him. Outward, about him lay world that had less sound—a waiting one.

And over his heart throbbed the ring—the heritage of Sage Paradox—trembling to be stirred.