Sovereign of the Ashes

The mechanic was visibly dissatisfied with the outcome of this trial.

Gasps suddenly rose from the side—they came from the other mages.

It turned out that he had just been knocked out of third place.

And the one who surpassed him was none other than the only ordinary Rank Three grand mage present—Grimm.

Over the past five years, the demigod-level mages who had entered this trial secret realm had been eliminated one by one. Yet Grimm was still standing.

His score had been growing exponentially; the further he progressed, the faster his points climbed.

In this secret realm, simply sticking around was not enough.

Some mages had already perfected their creations to the limit, but as they continued experimenting, the secret realm did not eject them. Instead, the colored light bands beneath their platforms stopped rising—or worse, began to fall.

Realizing they could not improve any further, many accepted reality with quiet resignation.

It was one thing to be surpassed by another demigod-level mage. But to be overtaken by an ordinary Rank Three mage?

That was a bitter pill for the mechanic to swallow.

Up until now, his eyes had been locked solely on Sein and the gold-robed mage—he had not spared a glance at anyone else.

So he never imagined being overtaken by Grimm.

With a violent motion, he ripped the mechanical eye from his own socket, determined to incorporate it into his experiment—refusing to concede defeat!

Unlike his frustration, Grimm, who had quietly climbed into third place, remained calm and humble.

In fact, he had not even realized he had surpassed the mechanic or secured third place.

In that moment, Grimm’s intense focus mirrored Sein’s.

Both of them were completely immersed in their experiments with a quiet intensity burning within them, sharing the same madness in their pursuit of truth.

***

Two more years passed, bringing them into the seventh year.

The mechanic, who had now integrated the mechanical eye into his metal orb, stared at the colorful light band beneath his platform that was still stuck in fourth place.

Finally, he accepted the harsh reality.

This time, he did not show the same rage and frustration as before.

Instead, a quiet calm had settled over him.

The Knight Continent’s trial zone really had a way of tempering people.

Even without fighting any intense battles or unraveling any profound truths, the mechanic had been shaken deeply by the quiet presence of three strangers who had never spoken a single word to him from beginning to end.

With one empty eye socket, he reached for the metal orb in front of him and picked it up with his mechanical fingers.

“My name is Haywood, and I’ll remember you three. If you ever come to Steel City in the future, tell them my name. I believe that by then, I’ll have built my own mechanical divine tower,” he said.

“Hmph.” Haywood let out a cold snort, then ended his experiment and was promptly sent away from the trial space.

After Haywood’s departure, another two demigod-level mages let out quiet, resigned sighs before leaving one after another.

Acknowledging inferiority to someone else was never easy, but reality had a way of being brutally honest.

Staying any longer no longer served a purpose to these mages.

In fact, watching Sein and the others continue to climb to even greater heights would only chip away at their self-confidence.

When Haywood left, Sein and the others exchanged subtle glances.

The screening mechanism of this secret realm was so unforgiving, it was no exaggeration to say that nearly every mage who made it to the final trial had the potential to break through to Rank Four.

And with the talent shown by Haywood, Sein, and the gold-robed mage, advancing to Rank Four was practically inevitable.

Haywood’s words might have carried a trace of arrogance, but he was not wrong.

With Haywood and the others gone, only three remained in the trial space.

All were still hard at work on their experiments, but compared to the earlier years, it was clear their progress had clearly slowed—they were each approaching a bottleneck.

***

By the time the ninth year rolled around, the gold-robed mage, who had been holding first place, let out a sigh and finally stopped his experiment.

His magic rod was already close to perfection in the first place—a masterpiece he took great pride in.

Over the past nine years, he had pushed its refinement to the absolute limit of his abilities.

For the last two months, his total score had remained stagnant.

Although he still held onto the top spot, it was clear that Sein and Grimm were steadily closing the gap with their consistent progress.

When the gold-robed mage ended his experiment, he was not immediately sent away.

Instead, he quietly turned his gaze toward Sein and Grimm, his eyes lingering on Grimm for a moment longer before shifting to Sein.

“According to my mentor, it’s nearly impossible to cheat in this trial secret realm. Although I have no idea why the scoring system considers that Rank Four heart core of yours valid, I’m the type to accept success or failure without bitterness. I’m not going to throw a tantrum like that guy from two years ago,” the gold-robed mage said.

He then introduced himself, “My name is Berold, from the Marmett Union Alliance. I hope we cross paths again in the future.”

“And you,” he added, fixing his gaze on Sein, “you’ll probably be the ultimate winner of this secret realm trial.”

At that moment, Sein had just embedded the Goddess of Music’s divine relic into the Demon Eye Mask. He had also dismantled the Octave Box and integrated it into the mask.

Over these nine years of experimentation, Sein had not only used the materials he gained from the nine levels of the trial but also many treasures from Faeloria.

Gondrath, the fallen God of Craft, had left behind a trove of high-quality materials, many of which Sein had incorporated into his work.

But crafting a magic artifact was not simply about piling on as many treasures as possible.

As an outstanding alchemist, Sein had to balance functionality and compatibility.

For example, when refining the Demon Eye Mask, Sein had deliberately chosen not to include divine relics from the God of Craft, the Goddess of Waters, or the God of Brute Force.

Had he chased sheer explosive power, those additions would have made the mask absurdly powerful—but in Sein’s eyes, it would have been a complete failure.

Such an unstable artifact would probably self-destruct from elemental instability after a single use.

Besides, that kind of result probably would not earn the recognition of this trial space.

In response to Berold’s words, Sein paused mid-experiment, glanced up briefly, then returned to his work.

The Demon Eye Mask was still not in its best form.

Next, Sein prepared to incorporate the drop of blood essence gifted to him by the Succubus Queen.

A Rank Five creature’s blood essence, radiating a powerful divine aura of bewitchment, appeared on Sein’s table.

Even Berold, who had maintained a refined and composed demeanor all this time, could not help the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Sure enough, by the third month of Sein’s continued experiment, his total score surpassed Berold’s, placing him in first place.

And with that, Berold was finally sent away from the secret realm.