Sage of reality

Chapter 11: Echoes of Time

The World Space Trial was less than three days away, and tension saturated every corner of Apex Academy. The top thirty students were under constant pressure. Whether from nobles seeking alliances, rival factions trying to intimidate, or instructors pushing them harder—every breath they took was weighed and measured.

Tory Vale, however, remained detached from most of it. Not cold, but calculating. Focused.

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Beneath the Surface

In the deep of night, Tory sat cross-legged on a suspended platform in the secluded Nexus Pavilion—a hidden cultivation zone accessible only to top five ranking students. Silver mist surrounded him, drawn to his presence by an unknown force.

> [System: Time Synchronization Imminent] [Unlocking Passive Resonance: Temporal Perception Lv.1]

A soft pulse shimmered through his skin.

Suddenly, he heard things that hadn't happened yet. Felt pressure from a blade that hadn't swung. Saw light that hadn't bent.

"Time," he whispered, eyes flickering silver for an instant.

The System's voice echoed:

> [Time Element partially awakened. This element is not registered in planetary records. Detection unlikely.]

A few miles away, on a floating observatory embedded in the sky like a reversed moon, High Matron Celis of Celestial Fang frowned.

Her celestial sense had picked up something.

She murmured, "A ripple in stilled time… yet no causality thread…"

She reached out with her spiritual will, gently brushing the academy's space—but as soon as her senses neared Tory's isolated platform, her vision blurred.

> [System Alert: Temporal Displacement Veil Activated. Detection nullified.]

Celis blinked.

"I must be mistaken," she said aloud, but her heart wasn't convinced.

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The Challenge Announced

The next day, Headmaster Ryven, clad in white robes etched with stars, stood atop the central sky dome.

His voice boomed across the entire campus. "To those who dare reach the World Space, another test awaits. Tomorrow, you will undergo the Convergence Gauntlet."

Murmurs broke out.

"The Gauntlet is a tri-fold trial," Ryven continued. "You must survive against simulated Saint-level techniques, pass through collapsing elemental zones, and at the end—resist temptation tailored to your greatest weaknesses."

"The top three who pass will receive personal recommendations from one of our Saint instructors. Do not waste this opportunity."

Tory and Jim exchanged a look. Jim grinned. "That means one of us is getting a mentor. Maybe both."

Tory said nothing. Deep down, he felt the pressure of being watched.

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Whispering Ranks

Kael Zeyvorin, rank 4, sat in a high courtyard surrounded by his faction.

"That Vale kid is too quiet," he said. "Too damn precise. He either has a Heaven-grade inheritance or… something worse."

A girl in gold armor from House Virelin leaned over. "Should we arrange an 'accident' in the Gauntlet?"

Kael smirked. "Not yet. Let's see how he handles stage two. If he makes it out, I'll deal with him myself."

Selia Aeloria, rank 2, sat alone with a book on runic folding in her hands. She had sensed a fracture in space the moment Tory had scored his perfect evasion in the last trial.

She closed the book, whispering, "You don't belong to this plane, do you, Vale?"

But still, she said nothing to her house elders.

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Forging Pressure

In the Heartfire Crucible, Master Dorran roared, "You lot want to survive the Gauntlet with those scrap blades? I've seen sewer rats make cleaner cuts!"

Jim hammered his new spear, fusing lightning essence into a celestial steel core.

Tory forged a dual-blade short sword embedded with gravity threads and time-slowing formations. He named it Duskreaver.

> [Forging Result: Unique Grade - Dimensional Phase Blade Acquired]

Dorran inspected it with a grunt. "You. Boy. Who taught you multi-thread spatial weaving?"

Tory bowed slightly. "Self-taught."

Dorran's eyes narrowed. "Dangerous talent. Don't let it consume you."

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Secret Messages

That night, a message talisman fluttered into Tory's room.

A single line: "I know you've touched time. You're not alone."

No signature. No aura.

Tory crushed it instantly. The System scanned every nearby presence.

> [No immediate threat detected. Recommend caution. Access to Time must remain hidden.]

Tory turned to the window, watching the stars blink in ancient rhythm.

"I won't be a pawn. Not theirs. Not the world's."

He touched his chest, feeling the hidden core where Reality, Destruction, and Creation slept—sealed by the System's command.

For now.