Chapter 64: Beyond the Limit

Selene's POV

The chamber pulsed, the golden hues shifting once more, but this time, the air did not settle into stillness. Instead, a new energy stirred—an unspoken challenge, a continuation of the trial that had only just begun.

The Luminescent One's voice resonated through the space, carrying with it the weight of unyielding truth.

"Power alone is not enough. Control alone is not enough. Knowledge alone is not enough. You must refine all that you are. You must wield your strength with wisdom and purpose."

I steadied my breath, feeling the residual tremors of my confrontation with myself. The encounter had left me shaken, but I could not afford hesitation now. Not when I had come so far.

"What must I do?" I asked, my voice firm.

The space around me shifted once more. The chamber's vastness expanded, and before my eyes, the world transformed. I was no longer within the heart of Eldoria. Instead, I stood on an ancient battlefield, its soil scorched, the remnants of war scattered across the ground.

The cries of warriors echoed faintly through the air, yet I knew they were only phantoms of the past. A memory made real.

I turned, and standing before me was an armored figure—a warrior unlike any I had seen before.

His presence radiated strength honed over a lifetime of battle, his stance steady, his eyes sharp as steel.

The Luminescent One spoke again. "You have seen battles through vision and instinct. Now, you will see them as they were. You will learn from them. And you will fight."

The warrior's gaze met mine, assessing. He lifted his blade, its edge gleaming with ancient power.

"Show me what you have learned."

I had no time to prepare. He moved first, his speed unnatural for someone in heavy armor. My instincts screamed, and I threw myself to the side as his blade sliced through the space where I had stood moments ago.

Dust swirled in the aftermath of his strike, but I had no time to recover—he was already upon me again.

I summoned my power, energy surging to my fingertips as I prepared to counter—but the moment I did, a force lashed out, breaking my concentration.

A sharp pain raced up my arm, and I gasped, stumbling back.

"No magic," the warrior said coldly. "If you rely on it too soon, you will never master your own body. Again."

A duel without magic. Without the power that had always been a part of me. The realization sent a flicker of uncertainty through me, but I clenched my fists. If this was part of my trial, I would not back down.

I took a stance, steadying my footing. This time, when he moved, I did not retreat. I met his strike, twisting my body at the last moment to deflect the blow with the force of my movement alone.

The impact jarred my bones, but I did not falter.

"Better," he said, shifting his weight. "Again."

The battle continued, an unrelenting cycle of strikes, dodges, and counterattacks. Each blow forced me to think, to adapt.

Without magic to rely on, I was forced to use everything else—my speed, my precision, my ability to anticipate and react.

Time blurred. Sweat dripped down my back. My breath came in ragged draws. But I did not stop. I could not stop.

Then, at last, I saw an opening.

He swung wide, just a fraction slower than before. I shifted my weight, ducked beneath his guard, and struck—my fist slamming into his chest with every ounce of strength I had left. He staggered, a sharp exhale escaping him as he took a step back.

Then, he smiled.

"Good. You are learning. But a warrior is more than instinct. A warrior is endurance."

I barely had time to react before the space around us shifted again. The battlefield remained, but the enemy was no longer one.

It was many.

Phantom warriors emerged from the remnants of the war-torn land, their figures wreathed in the same energy that pulsed through the chamber.

Each one carried weapons, their eyes glowing with the light of past battles. And all of them turned toward me.

The warrior stepped back. "Survive."

And the battle began anew.

The first warrior lunged, his sword cutting through the air. I twisted away, barely dodging as another came from my side. My body screamed with exhaustion, but I pushed forward, forced to rely on pure reflex as I weaved between their attacks.

A kick landed against my side, sending me skidding across the battlefield. Pain flared through me, but I gritted my teeth, forcing myself up before they could close in. There were too many.

Too fast. Too relentless.

But I had survived before.

I centered myself, watching them, waiting. The moment they struck, I moved—not to block, not to match their force, but to redirect it. A step here, a shift there, letting their own weight work against them.

One by one, they fell.

Time lost meaning. My breath was fire in my lungs. My muscles screamed. But I endured. I fought. And as the last enemy collapsed, dissolving into the mist of memories, I stood victorious.

Silence fell. Then, a slow, approving nod from the warrior. "You have proven your endurance. But there is still more to learn."

The battlefield faded, the golden light of the chamber returning once more. My body ached, my limbs heavy, but I straightened, meeting his gaze.

"Then teach me."

The warrior smiled—a fierce, knowing expression. "Good. Then let us begin again."

And the trial continued.

Third Person's POV

The moment of stillness did not last. The warrior's approving nod barely registered before the space around them twisted once more. The golden light of the chamber dimmed as the battlefield stretched further, the terrain shifting beneath Selene's feet.

The exhaustion in her body was tangible, but she pushed it aside. There was no room for weakness, no time to catch her breath.

The warrior's voice was firm. "You fight well when your body is fresh. But battle is rarely kind enough to offer such luxury."

Selene barely had time to brace before he lunged again. This time, his strikes came faster, sharper. Every movement carried the weight of relentless experience, forcing her to react on pure instinct. Her muscles burned, her breath ragged, but she moved. She ducked, parried, twisted her body at the last second to avoid a devastating strike to her ribs.

But she was slowing.

Her mind screamed at her to keep going, but her body refused to respond as swiftly as before. She felt the shift in the air before she saw it—the warrior's blade stopping mere inches from her throat. A thin line of pain seared her skin from where the edge had nicked her.

He stepped back. "And there it is. The limit."

Selene exhaled sharply, staring at him through strands of damp hair. "If I had magic, this wouldn't be an issue."

The warrior tilted his head, unimpressed. "If you had magic, you wouldn't have learned anything."

She clenched her fists, frustration curling in her chest. But she couldn't deny the truth in his words. She had relied on magic for too long, let it define her strength. And yet, stripped of it, she was still here, still standing.

The warrior studied her for a moment before speaking again. "You have power, but you lack refinement. Strength without control is destruction. Endurance without awareness is recklessness."

Selene's jaw tightened. "Then how do I refine it?"

His lips curled slightly, a shadow of amusement crossing his face. "You've already begun."

The battlefield around them shifted once more, but this time, it did not vanish. Instead, echoes of past battles shimmered into existence—blurry at first, then clearer with each pulse of light. Selene recognized them. The city in ruins, the sky fractured with dark energy. The desperate fight for survival against an enemy unseen yet ever-present.

Her past mistakes stood before her, waiting to be undone.

The warrior gestured toward the shifting visions. "You will fight them again. But this time, you will change the outcome."

Selene swallowed. Every failure, every misstep, laid bare before her. Could she truly change what had already come to pass?

There was only one way to find out.

The first vision solidified, and suddenly, Selene was back in the chaos of the battle she had fought weeks ago. The acrid scent of smoke burned her lungs, the cries of the wounded echoing through the fractured cityscape. She remembered this battle well.

She had lost control.

Dark Matter had surged toward her, drawn to her presence, her power. She had unleashed everything to drive it back—raw, untamed energy that had left devastation in its wake. The buildings that had collapsed weren't just from the enemy's assault. They had fallen because she hadn't known how to wield her power properly.

Not this time.

Selene took a breath, steadying herself. The shadowy creatures emerged from the ruins, their forms shifting, writhing. She didn't react as she had before—no reckless burst of energy, no desperate attempt to overwhelm them.

Instead, she moved.

Her body ached from the relentless training, but she forced herself to rely on what she had learned. Every step was measured, every movement precise. Instead of clashing against them with brute force, she flowed between them, striking with efficiency rather than desperation.

It was working.

For the first time, she wasn't just fighting to survive. She was fighting to win.

The battle played out differently. Where there had been destruction, there was now control. Where she had faltered before, she adapted. The weight of her mistakes lifted, replaced by the steady rhythm of progress.

The vision blurred, then faded.

She was back in the golden chamber, breathless but steady. The warrior nodded once. "Again."

And so it continued.

Every battle she had lost, every failure she had suffered—she fought them again. And again. Each time, she adjusted, refined, corrected. She learned.

By the time the last vision faded, she was on her knees, sweat dripping onto the crystalline floor.

The warrior spoke, his tone softer this time. "You are beginning to understand. But one lesson remains."

Selene forced herself to stand, exhaustion clawing at her. "Which is?"

The chamber darkened, the golden hues fading into cold, muted tones. And then—

A mirror formed before her.

Her reflection stared back, but it was not just a simple image. It was her, yet not her. It moved with awareness, its gaze steady and knowing.

The warrior's voice was a whisper against the silence. "Now, you fight yourself."

Selene's pulse quickened.

Her reflection stepped forward, and in an instant, the battle began.

She barely had time to react. The mirror version of herself struck first, faster than any opponent she had faced before. Selene twisted, blocking, but the sheer force of the attack sent her skidding backward.

Every strike, every movement—it was her own, perfected. Her doppelgänger knew her weaknesses, anticipated her every move.

It wasn't just a battle of strength. It was a battle of will.

Selene gritted her teeth, forcing herself to keep up. If she hesitated, she would lose. If she relied on the old patterns, she would fall.

She adjusted.

She learned.

Blow for blow, strike for strike, she pushed forward. The fight stretched on, her entire being poured into every movement.

And then—

She saw it. The moment. The flaw. The opening.

Selene didn't hesitate. She struck, fast and precise, disrupting the rhythm of the battle. Her reflection faltered for the first time.

And in that instant, she won.

The mirror shattered.

Light engulfed her.

Then—

Darkness.

To be continued.