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Now reading: Chapter 204 - I’m Not An Ancient Spider, But I’ll Gladly Pul from The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son', a Yaoi novel by Seraphelki.

The reincarnator molded her spirit to caress the tendrils floating calmly around Qatrand. The Talcres, her disciples, and especially her mother watched it all wryly - the latter rembering a similar scene from long ago at the Youth Guild. Ondua... pretended he saw nothing.

’Show them the strength of your cultivation and your bravery!’

The Yecine’s head turned due to the obvious spiritual signals and saw her silver dressed wife. Qat offered a few monts of waving slowly from afar, but actually grew a little embarrassed that so many of her competitors started watching the motion. This conflicted the young Goltbred.

"It’s adorable that she’s self-conscious, but it’s kind of infuriating that they all are in the way. I deserved at least... another three minutes of waving."

Dull eyes and monotone speaking were hidden well by an illusion of herself. It leaned on the rail, holding her face with a dreamy expression. After a minute of sulking, she cald down and rged the reality and illusion back together before returning to her seat.

The morning sun shone on the three structures that dominated the competition grounds. Each was identical in their imposing height and in the construction of the climbing paths. They rose amid deep circular moats ant to catch those who fell during the ascent.

’Truly peaceful. There was no such reasonable safety asure at one ti. Especially with such effort as they went through.’

Elua rembered watching the final one be filled. The train had apparently been running water to the location for weeks on its scheduled trips in order to prevent the local aquifer from being drained just for this purpose. She personally worked on so sigils that would slow the tendency of the moat water to evaporate over ti.

’They were pretty similar to the ones for cooling air, after all. In a manner of speaking, fluid is fluid!’

Corde hez Iralev stood before the assembled crowd at the center of the competition venue. Her deep blue battle dress marked her as distinctly as her sword’s reputation for all the onlookers. The Frozen Duskblade’s voice carried across the grounds without strain due to a ritual enhancent on the little stage.

A certain sigilist worked on so modifications for that, too.

"For generations, cultivators have tested themselves against these ancient towers. So of the greatest champions in our history proved themselves here before defending us in the Descent."

Her gaze swept across the competitors lined up before each tower’s base. Her words were scripted, but true. The few that beca famous without also performing well here were outliers. A slight pause in her scan suggested particular interest in certain individuals

’I wonder if I will be surprised by which three perform best?’.

"There are also legendary tales of the past. Ancients who scaled these walls like spiders. Heedless of falling."

In the viewing stands, Elua sat with her disciples. One of those very ’ancients’ was privately entertained by how Adhesion techniques had beco ’legendary’ feats. As well as how a test in her ti for essence Primalists had morphed into a group physical challenge.

"Today, you will write your own stories of triumph... or at least attempt to."

The Duskblade gestured to the staff positioned around each moat. Ropes and stretchers and other gear at the ready to pull out those hopefully few who fell into the water.

"The rules remain unchanged from previous cycles. Reach your tower’s bell using only your cultivation, strength, and wit. Any obstacle you encounter, you must work hard to overco."

The brunette’s fingers brushed the left of her chest where Qat’s spiritual fragnt resided. There was a sort of tension, but no fear. Nothing negative. Her fortress was just appropriately prid for the battle!

"Watch closely. Consider how a strong elentalist might make quick work of this supposedly physical challenge."

Nohre and Fusand leaned forward eagerly beside her as she spoke only loud enough for them to hear... within a montary bubble of air. Their master’s lessons were sotis cryptic, but it was well understood that it was done to make them think for themselves.

Though neither they nor her expected them to figure it out!

Shortly after she spoke, she felt Corde’s attention shift briefly her way. Almost like she had been caught whispering hidden truths. Elua didn’t return the gaze - she instead gestured enthusiastically toward the competitors of their region gathering at the nearest tower. Specifically, where a tall figure in Yecine colors stood ready next to her cousin.

A loud horn was blown and multiple competitors surged forward at the signal. Each took slightly different approaches to the initial handholds. In general, so moved with minimal thought while others hesitated before each reach. It made the division between those who practiced climbing regularly and those that did not quite obvious.

"Look how so try to rush."

Elua pointed out to her disciples as she watched. A few cultivators in the middle of the pack of racers had already fallen behind. A number nearest the base saw those ahead increasing their lead and started making wild grabs to make up ti.

Their movents lacked the confidence of serious training in the skill, making it likely that they were not from a large family. Though the Youth Guild did have a climbing wall, so if they had been persistent and sought teachers they could have gained so more mastery. The heiress had no pity for those that did not work hard.

"Master, what about that one? Is she rushing?"

Nohre indicated a muscular woman attempting to use one of the vertically rotating barriers as an alternative path. The chanical obstacle slowed as she hopped off the handhold and grabbed it. The purpose was clear - the cultivator hoped to ride its movent further upward.

"Ah. Well, that would be clever if..."

The barrier’s mounting creaked under her weight as it lifted her for a few seconds. The woman barely had ti to register her mistake before it gave way completely. She plumted backward with a startled cry.

Two staff mbers dove into the moat as she hit the water and secured ropes. Within monts they had her pulled safely to the edge... still sputtering but unhard except for pride. Fusand watched their master’s lips curve like she’d just seen a misbehaving child.

"The obstacles are designed to obstruct. But they aren’t designed to be permanent. As you saw, the wooden gears and shafts are only built for exactly the job they are ant for."

Mint eyes may have drifted down, but her spirit never stopped watching Qatrand’s steady progress. Her husband-wife had taken a asured approach. Steady climbing that conserved strength and energy while others tired themselves with overly rapid movents.

"The true test isn’t even overcoming the obstacles - it’s knowing which ones to face and which to avoid entirely."

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