The waiting area had never felt larger. With so few people left in the trials, the hall was no longer closely packed. Of the fifteen thousand participants who’d begun the first trial, only eight hundred and seventeen remained.

Participants appeared far more solemn than ever before. There was hardly any loitering, and the hall was quieter than usual.

The projections on the walls did not have any batch listings, as there would be no need for those today.

Caen sat in a lotus position on the floor, and Stormsong lay across his lap. A large portion of his mind meditated on the awakened weapon’s soul structure. He could glean impressions from its soul, but there was far more nuance to them than there’d been with Blight, for example, who simply wanted to inflict pain.

A few days earlier, Caen had replaced his old armor with a new and equally unenchanted one. He’d also gotten his helmet replaced with a replica, and the attendant at the Hall of Choosing hadn’t made a fuss.

Chasma covered his armor in the same configuration as last time: the fragment had spread to cover his entire upper torso. There was slightly more mass to it than before, but the potency of its abilities hadn’t increased much. Caen had manipulated the fragment to also cover his entire head beneath the helmet. He’d added holes for sight and breathing. It was not uncomfortable in the slightest.

Caen felt more nervous than he had in the trials so far. He had hoped to raise his Divination and Contract magic affinities out of abjection, if only for the extra benefits the passive augmentations might have granted him. Especially with regard to Mimicry. His Contract affinity was at 0.9106. Not quite on the cusp, but it was a close thing. Divination was farther out, at 0.6889.

He took a deep breath, placed Stormsong on the ground beside him, and Mimicked the Contract affinity of a Summoner. Summoning fell under the discipline of Contract magic. As expected, the woman’s Contract affinity was high.

Caen began casting a first elevation spell that was fairly difficult for him to cast. He slowly and carefully formed the terms of the contract.

“Stormsong, do you remember the plan I told you about?”

“Hmph. I’ve seen my fair share of tricksters.”

“This isn’t a contractual bond,” Caen repeated patiently, even though he’d already done so several times in the past few days. “It’s just a simple magical agreement that would help me understand your prompting better. All the restrictions in the contract will be placed on me. I will read out all the terms to you.”

“Hmph. At least, you're relentless.”

In the previous trial, Stormsong had given Caen several directions, many of which Caen had been unable to make sense of or follow through on. With a magical contract, Caen could bind himself to executing precisely what Stormsong intended, and not just what was said.

After a few tests with Rithya and Hshnol, Caen had confirmed that a magical agreement of this kind would improve the strength of his connection to anyone by a small but notable degree. This would help strengthen the synergy between him and Stormsong, and perhaps give Ardor more to work with.

He needed those primary enchantments in this round.

Caen recited the terms for Stormsong. He could feel an impression of hopefulness and restlessness from the awakened weapon.

“This will never work,” Stormsong grumbled. “A meager contract could never fabricate synergy.”

“Probably. But are you willing to try?”

“Hmph! I suppose I have nothing to lose in proving you wrong. Fine. I agree.”

The agreement took. Caen observed this in both his soul and in the spell imprint. Also, it had put a dent in his reserves. Contract magic was quite mana-consumptive.

He was not Mimicking the sword’s Lightning affinity, but their connection grew just a tad stronger. Caen could feel a vague sensation in his spirit that reminded him of Ardor. But he still had no clue how to interact with that.

“I told you it was a waste of time,” Stormsong groused.

“We’ll have to see about that,” Caen replied.

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The restrictive terms would let him know when he wasn't fulfilling Stormsong’s directions, and that by itself would be incredibly helpful in building their compatibility. He was effectually imposing a very weak geas on himself, one that could easily be broken by a direct exertion of his will. But this way, he would be able to determine the crux of Stormsong’s intentions.

Caen Mimicked resilience, pairing it with none of his Saffronan abilities. After a moment, he reverted his soul structure to its original configuration.

He Mimicked the Summoner’s Contract affinity again and cast a spell to inspect the contract he’d entered into with Stormsong. It had barely suffered any degradation from the significant changes to his soul.

Good.

He looked up and noticed that a handsome woman who appeared to be in her forties was staring intently at him.

She had a cold smile etched on her face, the left side of which was covered in red Vishic runes.

Pahanai, the Star Killer.

A shiver ran down Caen’s spine.

She was one of the oldest participants in this year’s trials. For the past century, she’d consistently made it to the fourth round, where she inevitably crushed the hopes of every aspiring record-breaker.

There was a very good reason why no one had broken Oirick’s record. And Caen was looking at her. Some decades ago, Pahanai and a few others had been responsible for eliminating the participant with the ‘unofficial’ highest number of points ever earned in the trials.

A frighteningly huge double-sided war axe sat across Pahanai’s lap: Humility. One of the well-regarded legendary weapons in the trials.

Pahanai sat amongst other members of the Tried and True faction. Yeishi was in their midst too, having a conversation with another participant. He glanced at Caen then returned to his conversation. Pahanai continued staring, that crazed smile never leaving her face.

“Finalists,” a disembodied voice called from the enchantments. “Brace yourselves for spatial transport in five, four, three—”

As he Mimicked resilience, Caen cracked his neck and grabbed Stormsong. His indicator necklace grew warm, and then he was wrenched through space.

A moment later, he found himself standing on the very edge of the trial grounds, which was in the shape of a vast circle today.

The screams of the audience were deafening.

“And here they are for the last time!” the announcer cried. “Our very own finalists!”

There was a colossal translucent dome taking up most of the trial grounds.

Caen and over eight hundred other participants were positioned equidistantly around the great dome with their backs to the wall of the trial grounds. At the center of the dome and breaching its surface was the statue of a woman in flowing robes, holding out her hands.

A few participants spared the attention to revel in the praise from the audience. Caen observed his surroundings.

“You stand now to experience the ultimate test of the Patronage trials,” the announcer said as the crowd grew blurry around them, all the noise cutting out.

“In this half of the trial, you have but one objective: reach the zone of Her mercy at the very center of the arena.”

This half of the trial? Caen wondered.

“Now, listen carefully to the rules.”

The dome before them was designed to shrink. They could neither damage the dome nor enter into it. It served as a speed limit on how quickly they could reach the center of the trial grounds, or the zone of mercy. Monsters abounded within the dome and could move through the translucent material without hindrance. There were also obstacles and a few traps.

As the participants raced to the center, a labyrinth would begin to form behind them from the edges of the trial grounds. Anyone who wasn’t in the zone of mercy by the time the labyrinth finished forming and the dome had completely shrunk would be eliminated.

“Her spirit encompasses all things. Begin.”

The dome began to shrink, revealing the terrain of the trial grounds. Pillars, clusters of trees, stone monuments, stout structures made of strange materials, pools, and monsters. There didn’t seem to be any order to it.

Caen dropped resilience, Mimicked Stormsong’s Lightning affinity, and began running after the slowly receding dome at a moderate speed. Those who were closest to the dome were attacked by clawed bipeds that suddenly jumped through the translucent material.

A Kinesis practician took to the sky, quickly scaling the dome. Two disturbingly large winged creatures burst out of the dome at preternatural speed and seized her limbs with their jaws. She bowed out before they could mangle her.

A low but prominent rumbling caused Caen to glance over his shoulder. Jagged crystalline protrusions were bursting out of the ground. The labyrinth was already forming behind them.

He directed his attention to the obstacles in front of him, smoothly ducking and weaving through them. Several large bears with portions of their bodies covered in scales charged out of the dome. There were no heartstones within the creatures here. The fourth trial was notorious for not offering any extra points beyond the standard forty.

Some of the participants within view were already fighting each other, flinging spells and crossing weapons. Everyone else he could see seemed intent on making it to the center, though.

Caen began casting a very basic divination spell, but it kept collapsing.

Then he noticed a pair of participants from the Serpent Eaters faction running towards him, weapons extended. Behind them, an Earth practician with the emblem of the Blood Birds faction on his breastplate held up a flare gun and shot a sparkling trail of light into the sky.

Well, it was only a matter of time.

Caen unsheathed Stormsong.