Xander Quest

by Throwaway1971

All credit goes to the OG author Judge Mental on SB

346. Another Magical Summer 18

You end the lesson, thank Assistant for his time and aid-

"Octo!" he salutes.

*Poof*

"Wait, if he's an octopus, why does he leave a skull?"

-and head back to the School, aiming for the dining hall.

Lunch passes with more than a few of the students trying to coax you into showing off some more magic, "so that we know what to watch out for," and when that doesn't work - because you have a task you want to be at almost full power for tomorrow - into just describing the other spells.

There's a distinct bias towards cool, flashy, or simply violent magic in these requests that you decide to undermine, to make the point that seemingly boring and harmless spells can be quite effective when used correctly.

The Shield Spell and its ability to no-sell Magic Missiles, on top of its "boring but practical" defensive value, comes to mind.

So does Dispel Magic.

You spend the afternoon alternating between attending indoor classes and outdoor training exercises, taking the opportunity to extend a few friendly invitations when you see certain people again. You then grab a shower before dinner, after which you take a short walk to revisit the spot off the grounds where you'll be opening the Gate tomorrow. Seeing and sensing that nobody and nothing appears to have turned up since your last visit, you re-cast the Spell to Create a Private Sanctum, as putting it in place now will allow you to recover the expended mana overnight, and still leave you plenty of time to make use of the Divination-warding dome of mist tomorrow, even if the Trials end up running longer than planned.

You only stay up until about ten this evening, which is late by some measures but early for your usual standards, and you once again forego dreamwalking in order to be fully rested for tomorrow's events - not just in terms of physical or mystical energy, but also psychologically.

You have a couple of dreams, but as they lack the urgency of anything supernatural and speak more of your own anticipation of what's to come - and a touch of concern - you let them play out normally.

And then it is Friday morning, and one of the masters makes an announcement to the early breakfast crowd.

"A number of the masters and teachers will be absent from the School for a few hours, beginning after the nine o'clock meal. Depending on how things play out, we may be back in time for lunch, or perhaps delayed until some time this afternoon-"

And if that's the case, you may have to leave Shadow Alex to handle the proceedings while you skip out to attend to your third lecture. Either that or send him in your stead, but you're kind of reluctant to do that...

"-but in any case, we expect you all to be dutiful, respectable students of the School of Five Elements, help out your remaining instructors, and not burn the place down or declare war on any rival sects in our absence."

There is some disappointed muttering, but more good-natured exasperation, as of children and teenagers wondering why the adults feel the need to repeat themselves on a particular subject for the thousandth time.

"Also," Master Vincent adds, "no sudden field trips to Changdu to search for the King of Cats."

Somebody swears softly at that.

---

You can't quite restrain the impulse to ask.

"Has that ever happened?" you say aloud. As heads and eyes turn your way, you clarify, "The burning down the School or declaring war bit, I mean."

"...not at this branch of the School," the first master replies, "and we'd like to keep it that way."

Entirely understandable. However...

"What about at the other branch schools?" someone in the crowd asks, before you have a chance to.

"There have probably been a few fires over the centuries," the master admits slowly.

"And... wars?"

Glances that are at once reluctant, accusing, and chagrined pass between the masters, before the current speaker sighs and responds, "That has happened a couple of times, yes."

Murmurs of interest begin to echo through the dining hall, to the visible dismay of more than a few of the teachers.

"So, take a lesson from your forebears in the art, and Don't Do It," you are all told.

Ah, yes, the old "learn from history and do better" lesson.

Looking around at your fellow students, you can't help but wonder if some of them are going to try and "do better" in the sense of not only fighting a rival group of martial artists, but winning faster, more completely, and with fewer or no casualties.

You suppose you'll have to wait and see.

Anyway, you spend the hours between first and second breakfasts working out the proverbial last-minute scheduling for the trip. Masters pop up to ask (again, in some cases) what the weather is like on Bali Ha'i at this time of year, some of them nodding and sticking around while others disappear to change clothes; Li Fang and Miss Mei both come around and get into discussions with the teachers (certainly not arguments) about missing class or abandoning their duties; and Lu-sensei does NOT show up with Grandmaster Wen, instead quietly communicating to you his intention to invoke the Heart of Wen on the island, just to avoid some of the hassle.

Concerning, your chosen guests, Li Fang is doing well enough in her classes that several teachers agree missing a day for constructive purposes won't hurt her any - potentially the opposite, given what this trip is expected to involve. As for Miss Mei-

"I have leave, I'm using it, and I'm covered at the library," Mei informs a pushy individual.

"But outside of emergencies, requests for leave must be filed twenty-four hours in advance!" one of the drone-like sorts from the head office objects.

"And I did! First thing yesterday morning!"

Stammering protests ensue, but are steamrollered in short order.

-she seems to have her own situation well under control.

By nine-thirty, your entire guest list has been checked off, with a few extras, even, so you figure there's no point in waiting any longer. Leading everyone down the steps and into the hills-

"Has it always been this foggy here?"

-you enter the Private Sanctum and get to work opening the Gate to your Demiplane.

"Once the portal is open, please proceed through in an orderly and timely fashion," Briar announces while you're performing the ritual version of the spell. "Do not linger, do not jump back and forth between here and there, do not try to enter the Gate from behind, do not touch the edges of the portal, most DEFINITELY do not throw any kind of energy at the portal-"

This list of requests is extensive enough that you're starting to wonder if Briar is calling on her experience wrangling younger siblings...

---

"Gate, open!"

You didn't go for your personal tenth-circle overcast version of the spell, so when the hole through space, time, and other dimensions opens up, it's a lot quieter and less flashy than it was that time at the Archer residence.

There is still a certain amount of flash involved, and some "Oooh"ing and "Aaah"ing among the assembled masters as a result.

"Is that a forest?"

"Is that a temple?"

"Doesn't look like a tropical island..."

"Alright, move along!" Briar calls, waving from mid-air for the first row of martial artists to advance. "The Gate won't stay open forever, and we would appreciate speed and efficiency!"

"But that's-" Miss Mei begins, eyes wide as she points at the portal.

"Come along, Mei," one of the lady instructors says, tugging her forward.

"But it's a-"

"Magic, yes, and very impressive, I'm sure, but don't hold up the traffic, dear."

You'd wondered before if you were going to have to ask people to blitz through the portal under Ki Enhancement or Body Flickers, but the basic fitness and well-trained mobility of your typical martial artist, combined with the passive boosts of being a ki adept, prove more than enough to get everyone through the Gate and into your Demiplane in good order.

It takes an entire ten seconds after you step through the planar hole behind the crowd for your spell to finally lapse and the fabric of reality knit itself shut.

"What would happen if something was halfway through the portal when it closed?" you're asked.

"Depends on the situation," you reply, "but the best-case scenario is probably ending up stuck in that spot, unharmed but trapped between two different planes."

"And the worst-case scenario?"

"Either getting pushed out of BOTH planes entirely, or getting cut in half."

"...I can understand why the latter outcome would be... bad," the teacher says slowly, "but why is the former considered just as bad?"

"Well, then you're stuck on some other plane entirely, and unless you're a powerful spellcaster, you'll have no easy way back."

"Yeah," Briar chimes in. "Most people who get lost between planes like that are never seen again..." She trails off ominously, like she's telling a ghost story.

"Wait a minute!" a voice calls from elsewhere. "These trees aren't real!"

"The hell you say."

"Yeah, look at them, they're perfectly sol-!"

"Whoa!"

"Behold, a new technique for Walking Through Trees!"

"Very funny."

While the masters are amusing themselves exploring the Demiplane, you get on with opening your next ritual Gate.

Briar ends up fielding questions, or maybe accusations, from Miss Mei, who starts off with, "That was a Gate!"

"Yes, it was."

"That was a ninth-circle spell!"

"Yes, it was."

"He's NINE!"

"Yes, he is."

"That's insane!"

"You aren't wrong, and I say that as a fairy."

Ten minutes later...

"Gate, open again!"

A warm, tropical breeze flows through the hole in space-

"Welcome, outlanders, to Bali Ha'i!"

-and Kahine's mortal avatar greets her new guests.

---

When you set up the Private Sanctum in the hills yesterday evening, you took the opportunity provided by its cover to teleport out to Bali Ha'i and get in touch with Kahine. The relatively short notice of your plan to drop several dozen people on her shore didn't bother her too much, as her island has a long history of unexpected visitors turning up, and welcoming parties being thrown despite the lack of warning. Plus, for all her history with mortal life, Kahine IS still the spirit of a volcano, meaning she tends to think in geological timeframes rather than day and night cycles; on THAT scale, the difference between a few hours' notice and a few weeks' notice is negligible.

You also discussed how Kahine might greet the masters. She'd mentioned that she was feeling in the mood to "let off some pressure," and that she could do so in a manner that would be impressive rather than hazardous to human life, as long as said life stayed off her slopes. She has a LOT of practice at this, if not within the last century or so, but she'd wanted to hear your opinion of whether or not "a nice little eruption" would be too much for new visitors.

Maybe you were thinking too much of your visit to (and duel within) the mouth of Kilauea when you envisioned a "little eruption," because you were NOT expecting the top of the volcano to emit a roaring blast of fire and smoke right after Kahine gave her greetings.

"Whoa-!"

"What-!"

"Look out-!"

More than one master reflexively dodges at the flash, which leads to a few near-collisions and some additional scrambling.

Kahine blinks, lowers her arms from their upraised, welcoming position, and looks around for a moment before glancing at you. "Too much?" she asks sheepishly.

*Roar* goes the volcano in the background.

"Maybe just a bit," you reply.

Still, true to her word, the eruption is aimed away from the Ring of Trials, with even the winds contributing so that the ash and bits of flying molten rock are blown elsewhere.

"Move along, move along," Briar calls, with the nonchalance that only someone who'd grown up in the shadow of an active volcano could possess. "Don't mind the volcano, she's not going to hurt you unless you do something silly like try to go climbing or challenging her to a wrestling match-"

Despite the initial delay, you once again manage to get everybody through to the island with only a single casting of the Gate Spell. There is a certain amount of ki use this time.

As the portal swirls shut behind you, you take in the crowd.

---

After that surprising welcome, people could probably use a few minutes to calm down and get used to the spectacle of the ongoing eruption in the background. With that in mind, you decide to take advantage of your location and show off the local area a bit.

You don't walk too far, instead pointing out the stretch of beach where you set up the Magnificent Mansions and dining area for your birthday, the crystal-blue waters of the lagoon beyond that, and then in the opposite direction, to where the hot spring lies.

You have most people's interest for the bulk of the brief discussion, which switches over to attention when you bring up the simple bathing area. On the whole, though, while there's a certain appreciation for the unspoiled paradise all around you-

*Rrrrumble-boom*

-to say nothing of the towering spectacle of Nature's Fury at its finest, it must be said that the nearby Ring holds the lion's share of everyone's curiosity-

"What about those three pillars over there?"

-at least until someone squinting and pointing inland draws their notice elsewhere.

"Where?"

"I don't see anything..."

"You need to start wearing glasses, or just getting better at focusing your ki."

"Those 'pillars' are a natural formation," you reply easily. "Feel free to go take a look, but please don't intrude on the storage cellar built underneath."

"And for the final item of interest in our not-so-mobile tour of Bali Ha'i, I present to you, the Ring of Trials... this way, please."

---

"There's nothing to see, unless you're fond of salted pork, hides, and bones."

That remark gets you a mix of puzzled looks and understanding ones.

"Cold storage?" one of the older masters inquires.

"Cool storage, anyway," you agree. "And with a few preservation spells besides. I've gone to some trouble to keep the meat preserved, as did a local shaman I'm on decent terms with, and I'd hate for any of that to change."

That prompts an interested, "There are people living here?"

"No, they're all dead."

"...there are dead people haunting here?" comes the more concerned follow-up.

"No, or at least not since the spells I used to call them up ended... at least, I hope not?" You glance at Kahine.

"All resting comfortably, as far as I'm aware," she assures you.

Good to know.

"How much meat are we talking about, here?" somebody asks.

"There's most of eleven island boars' worth still in there, and some of them were not small. It's all salted, though, and I didn't have time to make preparations before this."

"Ah. A shame, but entirely understandable."

After that, you move on to the Ring.

The masters are visibly curious about the style of the architecture, which you know doesn't quite match anything on Earth, as well as the age of the structure - or the lack thereof, which you hear a few of them commenting on as they explain to their peers about the lack of obvious weathering or plant growth, to say nothing of the absence of any damage of a volcanic nature.

None of the local animals have taken up residence in the various nooks and crannies of the Ring, either. A certain amount of sand and dead leaves proved to have been blown about when you checked on the site yesterday, but that was easily addressed by setting some Unseen Servants to sweeping the place.

Letting the masters decide where they wish to sit, you head up to the control area to summon Shadow Alex and the priests.

---

It occurs to you that Batreaux didn't take the Trials back during your birthday party. You don't recall his reasoning off the top of your head - it's been a while, and there were a LOT of people offered the chance to take the Trials that day - but maybe he'll change his mind?

And if not, it's still an opportunity for him to meet some other masters of an art that you are training in. That could be helpful to your future growth, whether in terms of magic, martial arts, or a mix of the two.

Regardless, you start off by tapping into the Heart of Courage-

*Poof!*

"I have returned!"

"You mean 'we'."

"WE have returned!"

-and calling up your Dark Self, along with his Dark Fairy Partner.

Whether alerted by the noise or the sudden and odd presence in their awareness of the local energies, some of the nearer masters turn to look at the new arrivals.

"...is that a doppelganger?" one of the masters ventures warily.

He's actually visibly on guard, which makes you think he's NOT referring to the ki-based illusionary clone trick.

"If you mean the ki technique, or the shapeshifting monster," you return, "then the answer is no. I conjured these two using a magic item."\

After sorting that out, you call up the priestly trio to help you run the Trials properly.

*Poof*

"Is it time for the-" Koron begins eagerly.

*Roar* goes the volcano.

"-HOLY DIN HAVE MERCY!"

I appreciate the sentiment, but this one's not my doing.

Elder Terok chuckles at the Kokiri's reaction, looking up at the ongoing eruption with a certain respectful appreciation. Then he notes that Kahine is present, watching, and smiling at him, and quickly hides his expression.

Madam Lanora's reaction to the pyrotechnics falls somewhere in between her two counterparts. She's not nearly as sanguine about it as the fireproof Goron, but neither is she as spooked as the flammable Kokiri.

While the trio spread out to make their way to their stations - pausing to work the crowd a bit as they go - you get on with the next calling.

*Poof*

"I HAVE RETURNED!"

*Crack-a-THOOM!*

You feel the masters looking from Batreaux, to you, and then to Lu-sensei.

"You see where he gets it from," the old man says, gesturing at the two of you.

---

"I take it you've met a doppelganger before?"

You're curious as to when and where this might have occurred, and also how, exactly, the teacher found out what he was dealing with. Doppelgangers aren't the most common creatures, and they're famous for their ability to take on the forms of other creatures - an ability more precise than common Transformation Magic allows, at that - and a tendency among at least some members of the species to use that ability to stir up trouble. Detecting them via magic and other supernatural methods is not impossible, but it's the old story of people not realizing they NEED to use those techniques, at least not until after the shapeshifter has slipped up somewhere.

"It was at a tournament in Hong Kong, about twenty years ago," the master replies. "One of the competitors was a doppelganger, taking part using a stolen identity."

Of course it wa- wait a moment.

"Did it use ki techniques?" you ask.

"It did, or at least it appeared to be doing so. Not overly advanced ones, but suitable to the level of the competition."

...well, that's concerning. You know that ki, youki, and other energies in the "life-force" category can be leveraged to improve upon almost any of the user's existing abilities, and when the adept in question already has an inherent and highly effective shapeshifting power...

"How did you find it out?"

"The man the creature was posing as showed up in the third round," is the answer. "I happened to be fighting the doppelganger at the time, and thought to restrain the imposter when 'he' tried to run for it." The older man shudders. "That was not one of my wiser decisions. Have you ever tried to fight a shapeshifter hand-to-hand?"

Not as such, no.

"I don't recommend it. Hands to claws to tentacles to TEETH, and all of it flowing and twisting and warping- brrr."

Sounds like the old "amorphous blob of horror" routine, which you don't think a typical doppelganger would be able to do, as they're supposed to be limited to humanoid forms. Possible evidence for ki-empowered shapeshifting, or maybe just an individual with something particularly nasty in their family tree?

Regardless, you can see why the master might be wary of entities that pop up wearing other people's faces.

"Now, Sensei, I am as much your student as I am Batreaux's."

"Dare I hope that means he'll be taking you off my hands the next time you take a week-long trip somewhere?" Lu-sensei inquires dryly.

...huh. There's a thought.

You turn to Batreaux, inquiringly.

"ALAS! It is unlikely," your DARK MASTER sighs. "The downsides of inter-planar politics, and of a summoned entity's inherently subservient position towards their summoner. When the summoner is sufficiently skilled and cautious, at any rate..."

Yeah, the places Batreaux could take responsibility for you without potentially ticking off some Earthly Power or being held under your magical influence in some form are currently not safe for you to visit. Maybe when you find a way to break that Curse, it'll be a different story, but until then...

In any case, you ask Batreaux if he'd like to take part in today's Trials.

"I thank you for the offer, my student, but I am a peaceful soul at heart. I do not mind OBSERVING the spectacle of martial prowess, but it is a rare day when I feel the urge to partake in such things myself, unless THE FORCES OF DARKNESS have decided to press the issue."

*Roar*

"OH MY! WHAT A MAGNIFICENT DISPLAY!"

Kahine laughs. "Thank you!"

With all your guest and helpers arrived, you set about getting the masters to clear the sandy sparring pit and decide among themselves who will go first, while Shadow Alex and the priests begin warming up the Ring.

Glancing around while the martial artists exchange arguments, bribes, and the occasional good-natured threat, you spy Lu-sensei... still making no move to summon Grandmaster Wen?

---

You opt not to pry.

For one thing, there are a lot of witnesses; even with the ongoing spirited discussion, any verbal communication could be overheard, and you aren't going to bet against the other masters being able to interpret body language as well as Lu-sensei can.

On another point, when Grandmaster Wen pops up, you can claim a measure of ignorance.

Eventually, Master Vincent seems to win the debate, as he steps forward to meet you just outside the glowing Triforce crest at the center of the sand-filled arena.

"So, how do we do this? I just walk into the light?"

"You just walk into the light," you agree, before clarifying, "and then the magic will take you somewhere else, to face an opponent considered suitable for your overall level of ability. Before that, though, I have to ask: how many Trials do you wish to face?; and what weapons, equipment, or active techniques do you wish to enter with? Because both factors will influence the difficulty level and potential rewards of the Trials."

"I'll go in as I am, no active techniques, nothing fancy," the man replies, looking thoughtful. "As for the number of Trials... how many are allowed?"

"Groups of three, six, and nine are preferred, for philosophical reasons."

"Three patron deities?" he guesses, glancing at the priests and probably recalling that collective discussion in the dojo from a few days ago.

"And from one to three Trials per Goddess," you agree.

"...and how many did Lu do?"

"He went for the full nine," you reply.

"Of course he did, the overachiever..."

"He also took his sword, if that makes a difference."

"Eh, not really. I was never much for weapons, and I never picked up any jade blades or the like..." Shaking his head, Master Vincent finally decides to go for nine Trials himself. He steps into the light, disappears-

"Oh, hey, he's on TV!"

"That would be the second biggest television screen I've ever seen."

"Definitely the largest floating magic crystal ball I'VE ever seen."

"I don't think it's actually crystal...?"

-and reappears in a familiar dark cave, lit by two blazing fires.

"Welcome!" a voice announces dramatically, and with a certain metallic echo.

RETIRED HYLIAN KNIGHT: SIR OLDMAN

You stare at the figure of Sir Oldman, who has manifested wearing a well-worn, well-maintained helmet, in a style that strikes you as most of a century out of date for Hyrule.

It really doesn't go with his robes, and Master Vincent is visibly confused by the contrast. The wooden sword, by comparison, hardly merits a glance.

"I am Sir Linkon Oldman, Knight of Hyrule, long since retired," the old warrior declares, echoing the statement he spoke to Lu-sensei some months ago almost exactly.

"Tucker Vincent, Ranked Master of the School of Five Elements."

"Oh-ho! Would the name 'Lu Tze' be familiar to you?"

"It would," Master Vincent sighs. "I take it you've faced him?"

"Indeed, and in the process, I was reminded to wear a helmet!"

You can HEAR the unspoken, "Thanks for that, Lu" hanging in the air around Master Vincent as he takes a ready stance across from the old knight.

"Best of luck to you, good sir."

"And to you."

"And now... TAKE THIS!"

---

As Master Vincent gets on with his first Trial, stepping inside of Sir Oldman's guard as Lu-sensei did-

"Not this time!" the old knight declares, pulling his strike and shifting his stance so that his shoulder comes towards his opponent in a good old-fashioned check. Even as he's doing that, you can see the warrior bringing his sword back hilt-first, going for a strike at Master Vincent's relatively unprotected midsection.

-you gather your mana to cast another spell.

There isn't a whole lot of point in bothering with the Spell of Greater Scrying. You've already observed Trials through the viewing globe provided by the Ring, and confirmed that it accepts lesser Divination spells and comparable effects like your Ki Sight in the same manner that your own scrying attempts would. Yes, the view provided by the Ring is a little less compatible with your energies than a spell of your own casting would be, but your general mastery of sensory techniques is such that the loss of fidelity is not really an issue.

Besides, you'd have to dismiss and renew a Scrying Spell every time a new contestant entered the Trials, and judging by the number of people who were arguing for a chance to go first just a minute ago, that would get inconveniently expensive - particularly when Shadow Alex runs out his reserves and needs to be replaced.

Instead, you begin a ritual casting of a Spell to Enhance Ki Sight, calling on your admittedly limited repertoire of arcane magic that already interacts with ki techniques. One spell for imbuing the force of a ki-enhanced blow into an arrow - as Witchcraft, no less; there's a story behind that, but either Ganondorf never heard it or you just haven't remembered it - another for draining an opponent's ki to replenish your own - which is a pretty straightforward take on vampirism - and that's about it.

If not for your free-form casting ability, your raw power as a sorcerer, and your personal study of ki techniques, you likely wouldn't be able to pull this off.

As it is, when you finish the spell a few minutes later, your Ki Sight - which you'd brought up at the beginning - is indeed improved. The revealed colors of channeled life-force are clearer, the definition sharper, and flows and patterns more readily discerned.

While you were working on that, Master Vincent finished his fight with Sir Oldman, rolling with the shoulder-blow and turning to catch the incoming sword-hilt and the arms grasping it, turning the catch into a throw-

"WHOAAAA!"

-and sending the Hyrulean knight flying.

To his credit, Sir Oldman didn't lose his grip on his practice weapon-

"Ooof!"

-and when he landed, he did so on his feet, before turning it into a forward roll that burned off the remaining momentum of his "fall" and put some distance between him and his opponent.

In the second or so that it took him to finish the maneuver, however, Master Vincent had caught up and hit him from behind, sending the knight down again, face-first into the dirt.

"Ugh," Linkon's groan echoed inside his helm. "Should have worn the rest of the armor..."

After that-

"My brother shall be avenged!"

DRAMATIC HYLIAN SAGE: OLDMAN

-you weren't surprised to see the fireball-summoning hamtastic sage turn up.

Master Vincent handled him about as easily as Lu-sensei did, although he didn't bother with using Wind Palms to counter the flaming projectiles, instead just closing at speed-

"AGAIN with the glowing fists!?"

-and hammering through the sage's personal force-field with a couple of empowered strikes.

"I am... not so easily-"

*Wham*

"-I said, I am not-"

*Wham*

"-defeated..."

For his third bout, Master Vincent does NOT go up against horse-headed Mazura, as you were half-expecting. Instead of the Palace Guardian, he faces a red-skinned one-eyed giant of similar height and rather broader build, wearing a sleeveless tunic and a short ponytail.

CYCLOPEAN HURLER: HINOX

The Hinox grins dopily down at its opponent, exposing two prominent, tusk-like lower teeth, and reaches into a bag at its waist-

"Oh, it's not gonna-" Briar begins.

-pulling out a large rock?

"...okay, it's NOT gonna," your partner finishes, a bit lamely.

"Problem?" Lu-sensei inquires.

"Hinoxes usually carry Bombs," you explain.

"...ah."

"Yeah."

A giant flinging around high explosives would have struck you as kind of a sudden escalation, considering what Master Vincent has and hasn't done thus far, but giving the Hinox ordinary stones seem a bit more-

*Boom!* goes the flung boulder, as it flies into and shatters against one of the walls of the chamber, sending bits of stony shrapnel flying.

-reasonable?

---

You decide you might as well confirm how the Ring of Trials compares to your own Scrying Spell. It might be worth knowing, if only as a point of reference for any future objects of Divination you come across.

You cast the spell-

!

-experiencing a touch of static as the magic resolves. Even if Master Vincent isn't actively using any techniques to ward off supernatural influence - and you can't be entirely certain that he isn't - being in combat means he undoubtedly has his mystical guard up along with the purely martial, and is passively resisting your spell as a result.

Being on another plane of existence isn't helping you any.

That said, the image that appears in the much smaller scrying globe now hovering before you clears up quickly, and when you pull your augmented Ki Sight away from the Ring's display to look through your own Scrying Spell, the results you get back are about the same.

Whatever increased efficiency and clarity you're getting out of using your own power, it's running afoul of the fact that the sensor on the other end is "anchored" to Master Vincent and following him around. While he's never out of the picture, the brief delay that occurs, as well as the starts and stops as the sensor tries to compensate for the man's movements, makes it a little difficult to track the finer details of his style.

The view on the big scrying sphere, meanwhile, is anchored to the extraplanar arena itself. The point of view isn't as close to anyone or anything involved in the fight, and thus doesn't offer quite as much fine detail - even though the images are pretty close to life-sized - but the more stable picture makes it easier to follow what IS shown.

"Another problem?" Lu-sensei inquires.

"No," you reply

"I was just checking something."

The Trial, of course, has not stopped.

Watching the Hinox chuck rocks at Master Vincent, it quickly becomes apparent that the monster's aim isn't the greatest. True, you have good reason to doubt that a peer of Lu-sensei's would be easily hit by flying rocks of this size, at least when they're only being thrown one at a time and at the speeds demonstrated, but Master Vincent doesn't even seem to be using Ki Enhancement to help himself dodge yet, just distance, mindfulness of his surroundings, and whatever prior experience he has with dodging large projectiles.

He DOES seem to be using Ki Reinforcement to protect his clothes from the spraying fragments of rock, though. Either that or his clothes are REALLY well-made, and designed to be resistant to projectiles...

If this lack of accuracy is typical of Hinox-kind - and from what you can recall, it is - it would help to explain their fondness of Bombs. Naturally-growing Bomb Flowers in particular are large and heavy enough to have the feel of a good-sized rock, while their blast radius would make direct hits unnecessary. Manufactured Bombs are smaller, and while they have a reasonable heft for their size, a Hinox of this size could still hold several of them at a time in one hand... which would probably not be a deterrent to the creature.

Might be tricky to light all the fuses at once, though.

*Smash!*

Anyway, for all the shattering going around, the Hinox's boulders are not truly exploding when they hit things, and once Master Vincent has the measure of his one-eyed opponent's technique and speed, he's able to close the distance in a flurry of footsteps-

*Crunch!*

-dodge the boulder that the Hinox flings down at him-

"How many rocks can it HAVE in that bag?" somebody in the audience protests.

-and then, in a show of reasonable sportsmanship, reach up and punch the giant in the gut, rather than somewhere a bit lower.

It's at this point that Tucker discovers the toughness of the Hinox breed, as his fist bounces off with little more effect than making the giant chuckle.

"Tickles," it chortles, in a language that your ongoing Spell of Tongues has no issues with.

Gained Giant F (Plus)

Whether Master Vincent understands the word or not, he definitely understands that he's going to have to work a bit harder for his win. His next move, then, is to channel ki to his feet, and kick the Hinox in the shin.

"OW!"

Rather hard, at that.

"Smash you!" the cyclops growls, raising its latest rock high and flinging it straight down-

*Smash!*

"OWWWW!"

-missing Master Vincent, but managing to hit its own foot.

"Ow ow ow ow-!"

"...have you ever seen a Hinox hop around in pain, Briar?" you ask your partner absently.

"Nope. What about you?"

---

With your curiosity sated and feeling no particular need to view Master Vincent's Trials in the visual equivalent of surround-sound, you end the Greater Spell of Scrying.

One of the downsides of being a skilled sorcerer is that you can come up with a LOT of unpleasant potential answers to a given question, which makes it easy to worry yourself sick over nothing. And that's without taking into account the fact that you live on the Hellmouth AND have some of the memories of a Demon King in your head.

So while the possibilities may be concerning, it is better to find the truth out now and be emotionally prepared for the lessons when they come up, rather than to leave it to bother you for weeks, months, or even longer.

"Not SPECIFICALLY in dodging rocks," your master replies when you pose the question. "But we've already covered the introductory projectile dodging exercises, if you'll recall the Nerf balls and beanbags."

Ah, yes. Those. And the Ki Blasts.

"For the intermediate level," he agrees. "Evading particularly fast moving-"

*Smash!*

"-or unusually large projectiles are advanced lessons, and I admit I don't normally cover them."

Too difficult to find a friendly giant and somewhere to put him up on a regular basis?

"That, and working out exactly what he could throw at people that would move correctly, without posing a true threat to life and limb."

...yeah, that would be an issue, wouldn't it? Make the "boulder" too light, and you'll affect its speed and trajectory, making it less useful and potentially worthless for the lesson. Leave it too heavy, however, and-

*Smash!*

-well, that.

You're not sure if enchanting a boulder to cause only non-lethal damage on impact would be enough to make it safe.

You have to admit, the sight of a Hinox hopping around on its right foot while clutching the other and wailing in self-inflicted pain like something out of a cartoon DOES strike a chord with some dark corner of your soul.

"It... does feel exasperatingly familiar," you sigh, while trying to ignore the groaning and not dig into the associates secondhand memories.

With the Hinox's attention briefly diverted, Master Vincent manages to close in again - and avoid getting jumped on - and lands a series of swift, ki-fueled strikes against the monster's right knee, just before it kicks off into the air again.

The cyclops bellows at the strikes, and then howls when it comes down a moment later and finds that leg unable to bear its weight.

*Crash!* goes the brute's body as it hits the floor.

"Go for the eye, Tucker!" somebody shouts.

"Oh, he's not going to-"

Whether he hears that advice or not, Master Vincent does as suggested and goes for the Hinox's single massive eye, now that it's within reach.

"-oh, ugh!"

"Ew!"

"And THAT is one of the classic downsides of an unarmed fighting style," a master sighs, shaking his head.

Shortly thereafter, Master Vincent advances to confront another familiar face.

GUARDIAN OF THE NORTH DESERT: MAZURA

---

Master Vincent's battle with Mazura reminds you keenly of Lu-sensei's match with the horse-headed warrior, months ago, and yet at the same time, it's clearly different.

Both masters had the skill and speed to maneuver around and through Mazura's glowing mace-strikes, but where Lu-sensei made it look easy, his contemporary is distinctly more awkward about it. He gets a little too close to some strikes and is caught off-balance by others, in each case staggering away for a step or two in order to recover, which costs him chances to further close the distance or strike.

Whether that failing is down to a lack of experience in fighting large, well-armed, heavily-armored, and appreciably skilled supernatural opponents, you can't say, but the fact that Master Vincent went into this match blind, where your teacher had an opportunity to see the Palace Guardian probably DOES play a part.

And to be sure, once Tucker has seen Mazura fight for a time, his movements become noticeably neater and more certain.

Likewise, where Lu-sensei went for the legs, Master Vincent does the same, provoking Mazura into kicking at him so that he can yank that leg out from under the Guardian and drop him on the floor. This technically succeeds, except that as Mazura's going down, he twists about to get his arms underneath him and catch himself before he hits the ground. That allows him to shove himself back to his feet in a fraction of the time he needed when Lu-sensei yanked him off-balance, leaving only enough time for Master Vincent to get in one hit to the unarmored head.

The teacher considers that for a moment, then shrugs and pulls out a Ki Blast that takes Mazura right between his horsey eyes.

When his leg is pulled out from under him THIS time, the Guardian fails to catch himself. From there, it's a much closer repeat of Lu-sensei's victory.

TWISTED SORCERER: WIZZRO

Right down to the next opponent on the list, it would seem.

For the record, Master Tucker is no more inclined to try picking up the ominously glowing magic ring than Lu Tze was.

He also does a good job of dodging Wizzro's barrage of spell-blasts, although as with the fight against Mazura, it's not as neat as your master managed - and this time, you can't blame the difference solely on Lu-sensei being warned ahead of time, because he was the first to fight Wizzro back at your party, too.

Even with Body Flickers, the challenger suffers a graze here, a small hit to avoid a rather larger one there, and finally seems to decide that evasive techniques alone are insufficient, calling on his Ki Blast again to counter-attack.

The bad news there is that Wizzro's magical defenses soak up most of the attacks, not even breaking his concentration.

There's... not really any good news associated with it, but perhaps a silver lining? Wizzro is clearly amused by the failure of the attacks, because he laughs mockingly and quits trying to dodge-

!

-which leaves him open when Master Vincent uses the Earth Palm Technique to fling a handful of ki-charged stones he had tucked up his sleeve at his foe. THIS hit takes Wizzro right in his leering maw, and if it still doesn't seem to hurt him, he's left gagging and spitting long enough for Tucker to close to point-blank range and start swinging.

Even if you couldn't read the master's use of the technique that well - much less exactly when he scooped up those rocks, though looking back, you think it must have been when he took a tumble to avoid some of Wizzro's ranged attacks - it's nice to see the Earth Palm actually used.

Gained Earth Palm F (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

Of course, that's when the shapeshifter breaks out his melee game-

There is a wordless cry of alarm from that one master who'd met the doppelganger.

-including the part where he steals his opponent's form.

That seems to be a mistake, because while Master Vincent was doing... not great, but well enough against Wizzro's flexible form, the switch to a more solid and human body sees a sudden spike in the martial artist's effectiveness.

That more or less confirms your suspicion that Master Vincent isn't as used to fighting things with non-human physiology as Lu-sensei is, and also suggests that he may well have MORE experience at dealing with humanoids.

Wizzro takes enough of a beating in the ensuing seconds that he isn't able to pull off that teleport-escape he did to extend his match with Lu-sensei, and in short order, his body disperses with a puff of dark smoke.

Once again, Master Tucker makes no move to pick up the ring that's left behind.

---

"MOST unpleasant things, I would imagine," your DARK MASTER replies with a shudder. "I am not overly familiar with this specific SERVANT OF DARKNESS, but at the very least, I would expect his focus ring to impose a spiteful curse upon his vanquisher. Nor would I be surprised if the ring acted like a phylactery."

"You think Wizzro's a lich?" you inquire.

"Or that he might function similarly to one, anchored to and re-forming around his ring over time if proper steps are not taken to prevent it," Batreaux clarifies. "Which could result in him being able to haunt a new bearer of the ring, possess them, or even transform their body into a new instance of his own."

Being a spectral shapeshifter WOULD probably help with that, wouldn't it?

Also, creepy.

While you're discussing that, Master Tucker moves on to his sixth Trial, which is the second to diverge from the lineup that Lu-sensei faced.

This time around, the battleground is a broad, sandy pit located inside some ancient structure - no doubt another temple - with a high, dome-shaped ceiling and several worn stone statues of monstrous figures hunched upon pedestals. Sunlight descends through gaps in the architecture - some of them intentional inclusions, others the clear result of centuries of neglect - supplementing the ever-burning torches that line the walls.

Master Vincent appears to be alone in the room, the transition having set him near the center, and his guard is obviously up as he slowly looks about, seeking his opponent. For a long moment, the only movements are his and the flickering of the torches, the only sounds his footsteps upon the sand.

Then something moves beneath the surface - and in three different places at once, at that, as many-segmented chitinous bodies erupt into view with a spray of sandy grit and stone shards.

"Ugh!" somebody protests from the sands.

"Ahhh!" someone else screams.

DESERT CRAWLERS: LANMOLAS

A single specimen of this buggy breed was enough to give Akua some problems at first, due to what you suspected to be a lack of familiarity with creatures that lacked a humanoid body plan, and Master Vincent has similar trouble, which is compounded by the fact that there are three of the things-

*Whoosh*

-and also that the four leering statues placed along the walls of the square-shaped pit are periodically firing blasts of flame in his general direction. You don't think the sand is doing Lu-sensei's peer too many favors, either, as he noticeably slips a couple of times before sorting out his Ki Step, and while he attempts to use the sand for a variant of the Earth Palm, it doesn't appear to accomplish anything against the desert-adapted Lanmolas.

On the bright side, at least Tucker doesn't seem to be afraid of bugs? Not everybody here can say the same.

Between the general effort he's put into things thus far, the hits he took against Wizzro, and the inconvenient nature of the current arena, Master Tucker has trouble keeping up. Things get worse when his first few attacks against the Lanmolas glance off their armored shells, which you know can withstand hits from enchanted swords unless one happens to strike them in their few vulnerable points; that's tricky enough with a weapon, much less one's bare hands.

Akua and Issa both managed it, but, well, vampires.

Despite all the handicaps, Master Tucker manages to kill two of the sometimes-hovering, sometimes-subterranean Lanmolas. When the third makes its next attack, it does so with sudden speed that the master clearly wasn't expecting, and when he resorts to a Body Flicker to try and dodge, his footing betrays him again-

*Crash*

-sending him into a wall.

*Whoosh-fwoom!*

It is REALLY rotten luck that the next fireball spat from one of the statues happens to come at him while he's still stunned from the impact.

As Tucker rolls around in the sand, extinguishing the flames on his outfit, the Lanmola senses the tremors and emerges almost directly underneath him, getting in a nasty bite. That isn't enough to finish him in and of itself, but from the way the sensei's movements slow and how he starts to wobble a bit, you think he must have gotten some of the bug's venom in his system.

He still manages to pull off a win, but he collapses in the process, reappearing in the circle below - hale and whole - without seeing whatever his next opponent would have been.

"Damn," Master Vincent mutters.

"You need more practice against non-humanoids, Tucker," Lu-sensei advises.

"And on fighting in deserts," he admits.

"Not quite the same as a beach, is it?"

Elder Terok trundles forward then to bestow Master Vincent's prize - a pair of fighting gloves, in the style that covers the knuckles and the lower part of the fingers, but leaves the rest exposed. There's a little bit of magic about them, though not the sort that would make for better weapons; instead, it's defensive in nature, not so much armor as something that will prevent bruising or scraping, while also keeping Tucker's hands clean the next time he has to hit an enemy somewhere... gooey.

Probably, anyway.

---

Master Vincent accepts his prizes with a look of wry amusement.

...

You glance at Briar, wondering why she isn't doing the thing. And why Vert isn't, for that matter.

"Well, first of all, he probably IS, and you just can't hear him from this distance because of the crowd."

You look up to the topmost part of the Ring, where the fairy and his Kokiri partner are set up maintaining the magic of the structure, and concede the point.

"And speaking of the crowd, and the number of people in it who are probably going to run this gauntlet," your partner goes on, "no way am I singing for all of them."

Reasonable.

Then you clear your throat and raise your own voice for the crowd. "As you can all see, Master Vincent is whole and hale. Let's give him a round of applause for a good showing!"

It takes a moment for most people to get started, possibly out of concern for offending the priests in the middle of what has been explained as a tradition from their religion, but some of the more insightful or experienced masters take your invitation as evidence that they're welcome to clap and cheer now, and they do so. That's enough to get the rest of the audience to join in.

Master Vincent takes a bow.

"Would the next participant like to step forward?" you continue a moment later, once the noise has started to die down. "And for that matter, does anyone have any questions before the next round of events?"

A few arguments erupt in different parts of the stands, as the hopeful contestants once again debate who gets to go next.

"Did they not sort that out already?" Briar wonders.

"I think some people are having second thoughts," Lu-sensei observes. "And possibly third thoughts, as well."

Ah.

In the meantime, there are a few questions sent your way.

"What happens if someone dies in a fight?"

"Or gets an arm cut off!"

"Where are those things FROM?"

"Never mind that, can they get OUT?"

A lot of the voices are on the younger side, which makes you think that the full details of what you and the priests told the masters the other day may not have made the rounds, or that if it did, some details were lost in transmission.

You end up repeating the explanation about the Ring's function being based heavily on Summoning Magic, and how the whole "there, but not really" thing applies to both sides of each Trial. This visibly gives some people a headache, but appears to answer most of the questions-

"How do you feel, Tucker?"

"Like I ran into a wall, got set on fire, and then nearly eaten by a giant bug."

-except for the ones that are obviously aimed at others, and which you leave for them to field.

"Also, fair warning," you add, looking straight at that one master with the possible phobia of doppelgangers. "One of the Goddesses overseeing the Trials is a Goddess of Courage, so if you go in, non-zero chance you'll end up facing something you're afraid of."

"Or just having nightmares about the things you DO meet," Briar adds.

"Or that," you concede. "But what better time to face your fears than beneath the gaze of a Goddess of Courage?"

...

Hm. You don't seem to have convinced some people with that.

Well, whatever. Their call.

Also, while the arguments are still ongoing, they do appear to have at least determined who's going next...

---

Over the next two hours, you see over thirty masters and teachers of the School of Five Elements enter the Ring of Trials, facing down a collection of Hyrulean monsters that ranges from the familiar-

"Why are there so many giant BUUUUGS!"

"Oh, hey, a Gohma," Briar observes.

-to the less-familiar but still known-

"I FIGHT ON!"

"The Goddesses are getting some real mileage out of those brothers," you muse to Briar.

"I think spending part of your afterlife serving as a champion for tests like these is a condition of becoming a Knight of the Realm or a Sage," your partner replies.

"A requirement, or a benefit?"

"Defeated... again..."

"Depends on the person, doesn't it?"

-to a few that you hadn't seen in the Ring before.

"Is... that a minotaur?" you wonder, eyeing the short-horned, bull-headed humanoid with a frown.

LABYRINTH LURKER: GUMA

"Might be related," Briar admits, "but I couldn't tell you how."

The monster in question comes out swinging a ball and chain, through which it proves able to utilize another variant of the Sword Beam that sends projectiles flying out in a ballistic arc, making it look like the weapon itself has been thrown. Not only is such an attack more awkward to dodge, with the "beam chain" whirling about as it flies through the air, but the Guma proves able to unleash a series of such attacks in rapid succession, similar to how the Levoknuckle could consistently use Sword Beams without needing to spend time charging up between strikes.

Nor is that the monster's only method of attack. It proves able to use "straight" Beams just as well, and also to be able to use its charged-up flail in a defensive manner, leaving a short-lived field of disruptive energy in the wake of its swinging head that works reasonably well as a shield.

Could you replicate that with a sword? Spinning a blade around is tricky, but doable...

Gained Spin Attack E (Plus) (Plus)

And of course, it's a big, powerfully built monster, so punching, kicking, and stomping are all options - though for some reason, it doesn't try headbutting its opponent. Maybe it's because the Guma's horns are so short?

While you witness a lot of ki techniques being used in the course of the Trials, many of those skills are simply too advanced compared to your own grasp of the abilities in question to provide any useful guidance. The masters in particular are so practiced at techniques like the Ki Strike that you simply aren't able to follow the speed and smoothness with which their energies move, even with boosts to your Ki Sight.

Then there are the techniques that, for whatever reason, just don't get used. Ki Overload you can kind of understand: it's a brute force ability, making up for a lack of skill by pouring more power into a move, which is something the masters don't need to do; and more than that, a lot of these folks may not have as much ki to spare as you do. It's not even a question of you having a powerful soul (though you do) or being supernaturally enhanced (though your are), but rather of simple age; kids just tend to have more energy than adults, especially seniors.

You also don't see much in the way of weapon-based Ki Infusion, mainly because most of the participants go in unarmed, and don't pick up a weapon along the way even when the opportunity presents itself.

And then there are your more advanced techniques, which are far enough along that your skills are actually competitive with those of some of the instructors, making them less than entirely useful sources of further pointers.

That's not to say you don't learn anything.

Gained Grappling B
Gained Hand-to-Hand (Five Elements Style) A
Gained Ki Blast C (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Concealment B (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Projection C (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Weapon Defense B (Plus)

As you watch the Trials unfold, certain trends emerge. Early on, the instructors show a tendency to challenge six Trials, with a few confident-looking outliers going for the full nine, and only a couple limiting themselves to three. That last pair actually clear their challenges, despite claims of feeling a bit under the weather, whereas their peers generally max out at four or five victories - though that number starts going up as the Trials go on, and the remaining challengers get more opportunity to see the various monsters in action and consider how they should fight them. Four of the instructors manage to clear their chosen six-Trial challenges, while of the handful that shot for the top, the best gets knocked out in his seventh round.

He was not ready for Levoknuckle.

As for the actual masters, while not a one limits themselves to just three Trials, you are surprised and a little disappointed to see how many of them opt to take six, instead of running the entire gauntlet to its end. Granted, most of those that do go for the six-turn version end up clearing it, so it can be argued that they truly did know the limits of their own abilities and measured the threat posed by their monstrous opponents correctly. Still...

Incidentally, that one master who was worried about doppelgangers DOES end up having to face his fears, having to fight Wizzro in his fifth Trial. He wins, but is visibly shaken by the experience, enough so that he drops out rather than take on the Goron wrestler who appears for his final round.

The Goron in question is clearly disappointed by the easy win, but seems to understand that his opponent isn't in a good state for a proper fight.

---

He knew what he was getting into when he entered the Ring, and if he was less prepared for the results than he expected, well, that's unfortunate, but it's not really anybody's fault.

Besides, it could have been worse. At least it wasn't a recreation of his first encounter with a doppelganger, right?

Give me some credit to know the difference between facing your fears and just aggravating old trauma.

Anyway, of the four masters who go for a full nine-Trial challenge, one mistimes a dodge against a lightning bolt fired off by a giant eyeball sitting amid a thick puddle of slime and lesser, flying eyeballs-

VITREOUS HORROR: GELDOGGER

-which knocks him out of his seventh round.

Another goes up against Levoknuckle in his eighth round, tries to wrestle the knight into submission, and discovers too late that the animated armor is really quite strong, no slouch at all in grappling, and perhaps most pointedly, lacks any need for air or a true sense of pain.

He was doing so well up to that point, too, having managed to kick the knight off his horse and disarm him of his blade.

The third of the masters is Master Nielson, who also makes it as far as the eighth round before bowing out. In this case, it wasn't really a miscalculation of the proper technique for a given opponent or a case of the challenger escalating too quickly for his own good, just a lack of sufficient energy. He'd ended up facing Volvagia, and while his use of Environmental Adaptation and a breath-related technique that seemed to have him actually exhalating motes of ki allowed Master Nielson to tolerate the dragon's volcanic lair for a time, it eventually got to be too much for him.

On the other hand, despite losing, he got to fight a dragon. So it is that Master Nielson, who's been rather unpleasant every time you've interacted with him, comes out of the Ring with a small but decidedly pleased grin - and a dragon-scale pendant.

And then there is Master Zen, who goes second-to-last and lives up to his name by clearing three out of nine Trials by challenging his opponents - Sir Oldman, Sage Oldman, and a Keaton, to be specific - to a game of riddles, a philosophical debate, and a contest of comedy.

"I-is that allowed?" somebody demands, half-admiring, half-disbelieving, and a whole lot annoyed.

You recall how one of Emiko's older sisters ended up challenging possibly this very same Keaton to humorous combat. "It has been done before."

Clever old martial artists cannot live by wits alone, however, and Zen faces MOST of the remaining Trials in the field of combat - though his sixth Trial sees him challenging a Zora to a dance contest.

I'll allow it.

Incidentally, that round tells you that the Goddesses may have been paying more attention to Earth pop culture than you realized, because the flagstones underneath the two competitors start lighting up in a way that reminds you of the dance machine in Castle Shuzen's game room.

Being the only one who got all the way to the Final Trial, Zen is the first to meet Sage Elfaron and face his Dark Self, which quiets the entire audience for a minute as the masters consider the implications.

"So..." Zen says to himself. "Violence?"

Dark Zen nods. "Violence."

And violence there is, which subsequently results in the first time you've seen someone lose to their Dark Self - or at least, not win, as Zen throws his back out mid-combat and has to (proverbially) bow out.

Coming out of the Trials to find that particular pain suddenly absent is, in his own words, "Reward enough all by itself," but he quite gladly accepts the book of Hyrulean philosophy that the Goddesses choose to bestow.

From the aura of magic about it, you think it's more than JUST a bit of reading, but you don't recognize the signature off the top of your head, and it'd be rude to pry.

Incidentally, Miss Mei and Li Fang took their own turns in there. Mei stuck to the three-Trial challenge and cleared it in good order, if with visibly more effort than was required by the teachers who'd similarly limited themselves. Li Fang tried for six Trials, and got most of the way through her fifth before burning too much ki trying to keep up with a Wizzrobe's teleportation.

And then, a little bald smiling old man that most of the audience did not recognize stepped out of the shadows and into the arena proper.

"Who is that?"

"I have no idea."

"He's dressed like a master of the Five Elements Style, though?"

"From another branch, maybe?"

Earlier, Wen asked to announce himself in his own time.

---

You make no move to answer any of the questions about the identity of your "mystery guest" that are floating around the arena; rather, you try to look like you don't know Wen from Hu, ah-ha-ha-ha, leaving the Grandmaster to introduce himself in his own time and his own way.

Without preamble, the Founding Master of the School of Five Elements steps into the glowing circle at the heart of the Ring of Trials.

RETIRED HYLIAN KNIGHT: SIR OLDMAN

"Wel-huh?" Linkon looks down at himself, and more correctly, at the suit of armor covering his body, the shield on his left arm, and sheathed steel blade at his hip. "Full kit, this time?"

You're going to need it.

And it won't be enough.

"...well, that's concerning."

Wen regards the other old man for a moment. "Pardon me for asking this," he says politely, "but is that armor not heavy for a man of your age?"

"Funny thing about plate armor," Sir Oldman says. "It's true that it's reasonably heavy in and of itself, but when you're properly wearing the stuff, that weight is distributed all over the body: some on the feet" - he stamps one foot - "some on the upper legs; some on the arms" - he waves his shield-arm - "some on the shoulders; and of course" - he raises his as-yet empty sword-arm to give his helmet a light knock - "some on the head. Compared to a mail coat, which weighs perhaps half as much, yet hangs almost entirely off the shoulders, you don't notice the plate quite so much."

"I see."

"Of course," the knight goes on, as he draws his blade, "there are other considerations besides pure weight, and it's true that I'm not as young as I used to be and don't hold up to most things quite as well in the long term as I used to. With that said, would you mind if we got underway so I can go back to wearing something more comfortable?"

"Not at all," Wen agrees, bowing slightly. "Thank you for entertaining an old man's curiosity."

"You are welcome. Now, HAVE AT-!"

*Move*
*Grab*
*Throw*

"-YOUUUU-!"

*Crash!*

"Ha-ha!" Oldman declares, as he rolls with the impact, comes back to his feet, and spins around, blade out in an uncharged but still perfectly dangerous version of the Spin Attack. "Steel plating and internal padding! It'll take more than a fa-"

*Move*
*Trip*
*Crash*

"-aaallll!"

This time, Wen makes a point of maintaining contact with his opponent, turning the trip into a brief bout of wrestling. Sir Linkon loses his sword in short order, but delivers a good solid smack with his shield that Wen can't avoid in such close quarters and which seems to legitimately stun him for a second, giving the knight an opportunity to reverse the grapple. But the Grandmaster recovers a moment later, does... something... that sees him sliding out of Sir Oldman's armored grip-

"Oi!"

-and shortly thereafter has the knight pinned, facedown on the ground.

Linkon struggles and shifts for a moment or two longer, and then sighs. "Well, that's it then. I yield. Mind letting me up?"

"Of course. Do you need a hand, or...?"

"No, no, even without the momentum of a fall, the weight's not that big an issue..." Sir Linkon turns over and sits up. "See?"

"I do." Wen nods. "Thank you for the match, Sir Oldman. I don't have any real prior experience fighting warriors with your particular style of armor - or shield - so it has been educational."

"Glad to be of service, Master...?"

The old man beams. "I am called Wen."

...

The arena just about explodes.

---

A lot of the shouting that erupts in the wake of the Grandmaster's declaration of his identity is a mix of disbelief and anger.

"He dares-!"

"Such disrespect-!"

"I demand to know-!"

Nobody is crying "Heresy!" or the like, but that's likely because for all its spiritual aspect, the School of the Five Elements is a martial order, not a religious one.

There is a second group, almost as large as the first, who are taking the name-drop in a less offended manner-

"-have to admire the guts-"

"-legitimately be A Wen, just not THE Wen-"

"-have a few words when he comes out-"

-or at least less immediately demonstrative one.

And then there are those few, mostly among the masters, who are slowly turning suspicious gazes towards you and Lu-sensei.

Because after all, you DID demonstrate the ability to summon creatures from beyond time and space, in one of their very classrooms, just the other day.

You and your teacher trade glances.

As one, you nod, and turn back to the others.

Wen's second match, unsurprisingly, is against-

DRAMATIC HYLIAN SAGE: OLDMAN

-this guy again.

"You, sir, are the first to best my brother at his full strength in many years!" the Sage declares. "But beware, for now you face MY true form!"

Seriously, are we SURE he isn't related to one of the Demon Kings somehow?

For a second, as mystical power builds up around the Sage and his twin fires - which blaze to the ceiling of his retreat like pillars of flame - you wonder if Oldman is going to transform.

"Have at you!"

But no, there is no suddenly transformation into a monstrous or celestial form, or a monstrously celestial one, much less any sort of demon. Instead, Sage Oldman unleashes a weltering barrage of fireballs from his flanking firepits, compact spheres that travel much swifter than his previous gouts of flame, emerge in a continuous barrage rather than requiring a couple of seconds between shots, and still retain that quasi-homing property.

And when they hit the walls or the floor-

*Fwoom*

-they explode, although not so fiercely as Bombs or with such a blast radius as proper Fireballs.

Wen makes with the dodging and makes it look, if not truly effortless, then easier than it should be-

"Feel the burn!"

-at least until the Sage sends forth what looks like a cross between a Wall of Fire and a Dragon's Breath, a solid plane of flame that travels along a straight line, spreading out as it goes.

You realize, with some surprise and respect, that Wen is somewhat hemmed in by the flying fire-bombs. Sage Oldman has managed to catch him in a fairly literal crossfire - or would have, if he were not capable of moving so much faster-

!

-except that, much to your surprise, that's not what the Grandmaster does. Instead, as he looks upon the incoming field of flame, he takes a stance, breathes in-

"HA!"

-and delivers an open-hand strike that SPLITS the incoming blast wave right down the middle, opening a ragged hole large enough that when the flame passes around him, only a few faint, ragged tongues of scarlet touch him, and those not even long enough to burn.

"...that was... well-executed," a master says slowly.

"It proves nothing!"

"Well, no, it at least proves he's master-rank, and experienced with Fire..."

The Sage looks on with a frown as his trap is thwarted, and nods once.

Then he breaks out the Scorching Rays.

---

In tandem with Lu-sensei, you smile mysteriously and proclaim, "Surprise!"

Some of the masters give you annoyed looks.

Master Vincent sighs.

Master Zen considers the reaction, and then nods in an approving manner.

Most of the rest of the audience misses this, caught up in their own indignation or puzzlement as they are. You decide to leave them to it, and let Wen prove his claim to his name through deeds.

On that front, Wen sidesteps and ducks the two beams of red-hot flame that Sage Oldman sends his way, and then begins to advance through the still-ongoing rain of explosive flames. He still isn't using the Body Flicker, you note, instead limiting himself to Ki Enhanced speed - and holding back a fair bit even then, you're quite sure - and evading the flames and their periodic detonations by comparatively narrow margins.

The semi-homing aspect of the flaming spheres gives him more trouble this way than it would if he was moving too fast for the projectiles to track, but you have to admit that this approach does limit how quickly the Trials are likely to accelerate. It's also kind of intimidating to watch, as even with the stutter-stepping, side-leaning, and general dodginess of his movements, Wen never stops moving forward.

"Come forth!"

At least not until Oldman summons up some monsters to support him - specifically, a pair of Stalkin. They're a variant form you haven't personally encountered in your readings, summonings, or memories of Hyrulean monsters, being somewhat larger than regular Stalchildren, but not the rare giant variety, and lacking the weapons and armor of true Stalfos.

The big difference is that they're on fire, their exposed bones blackened by the heat, making them look more menacing.

"Face burning skeletal DOOM!" the Sage declares, laughing ominously.

The "Fire Stalchildren" advance on Wen without delay or any concern for the flames flying all about.

Wen regards them for a moment, and then lashes out with a quick series of blows-

*Crack-crack-crack-*

"Hup!"

-not even breaking rhythm when he does a forward flip over an incoming fireball.

*-crack-crack-CRUNCH*

"Good form," somebody concedes.

"Oh, come ON!" Oldman protests, as his minions fall apart almost as quickly as they appeared. They don't disperse in clouds of skull-shaped smoke, instead just laying there on the ground, burning fitfully and with the little motes of flame in their eyes rolling about in all directions with a sense of helpless anger.

"Did you at LEAST burn your hands?" Oldman complains, as Wen resumes his advance.

"Sorry, but no," the Grandmaster replies, taking a moment to show off unsinged and unbruised knuckles.

The Sage huffs and releases a Fireball, which Wen dives through and emerges from trailing wisps of smoke, otherwise appearing entirely unharmed.

"What are you, IMMUNE to fire!?"

"Not in the least, but I have become quite good at dodging!"

When Wen closes to striking distance of Sage Oldman, his response to the force-field that all the other masters have used a series of powered-up Ki Strikes to penetrate is to reach out one hand, press it lightly against the glowing barrier, and then... just hold it there?

"...excuse me," the Sage says in a tone of bafflement, as even his automated barrage of fireballs seems to hesitate in confusion, "but what ARE you doing?"

"Getting a feel for the makeup and energies of the barrier," Wen replies.

"Why?"

"So I can do this," the Grandmaster says, right before he leans forward, focusing his own energies into a short, sharp movement.

The barrier gives out with a *pop,* more like it was dispelled than broken by force.

...

"Disrupting Fist," someone in the audience says.

"Impossible!"

"But it must be!"

Sage Oldman blinks and declares, "This is some Bullbo shit."

Wen shrugs amiably. "Even so, would you care to surrender?"

"Well, I... DETONATE!"

*Boom!*

The point-blank explosion, a spell of last resort that you never saw the point of learning, somehow misses Wen entirely, while leaving Sage Oldman... actually pretty much untouched. Does he have a Ring or Spell of Fire Resistance on at the moment?

Regardless, the failed sneak attack prompts Wen to come back swinging.

"I FIGHT-"

*Wham*

"FOR THE GODDESSES-"

*Pow*

"LET ME FINISH-!?"

*Smash*

"...no... manners..."

And the Sage is once again down for the count.

"If you wish to speak in combat," Wen advises firmly, "you must do so with your fists."

And so he advances to the next Trial.

---

"So, what's 'Disrupting Fist'?"

While the name does seem fairly self-explanatory when taken in conjunction with a live demonstration, you figure you might as well get confirmation. So you ask your teacher.

"It's an upper-level technique of the Surprise Branch of the Five Elements Style," Lu-sensei explains. "By attuning one's ki to the energies of ki constructs, spells, and other supernatural forces and then directing it into the target with the correct force, it's possible to disrupt and dispel such things. To borrow some of your arcane terminology, it's a Punch That Dispels Magic."

And he's even using the terminology correctly.

"I have been listening to you talk shop for a while, now."

So he has. "When you say 'upper-level'..."

"It's customarily only taught to advanced disciples and fellow masters," Lu-sensei replies.

Ah. And here you are, a while away from becoming either of those.

"Even then," he goes on, "it's seen as a niche technique by some of my peers, and not something really worth putting serious effort into."

"Not enough run-ins with unfriendly high-end spellcasters to encourage them?"

"Partly that, and partly the fact that it can be difficult to employ the technique correctly. You saw Wen taking his time with it?"

You nod.

"Well, that was because he was reading the energy of the barrier to determine how to counter it, and that's the sort of thing that takes time and proximity. Supposedly, it's possible to assess the Disrupting Fist's targets at range and use it in a single instant, but I don't know of anyone who's managed it."

Hm. Could be a lack of familiarity with magical theory getting in their way. It's easier to understand how to break spells when you know how they're put together in the first place, whether that's in general, in terms of a single magical school or style's particular traits, or even down to the unique quirks of individual spells and casters.

Which would make it a move you're quite suited to using, if and when you qualify to do so.

While you've been talking with your teacher, Grandmaster Wen has gone through his third Trial-

SAURIAN SKY-WARRIOR: AERALFOS

-literally taking down the winged reptillian creature. While not as big as many of Hyrule's famous boss monsters, the Aeralfos was still noticeably larger than the average human, and more importantly, demonstrated considerable skill, whether in the use of its sword and shield or its natural weaponry. The monster's power of flight was the main obstacle that Wen had to overcome, one that was supplemented by the layout of its lair - another of the innumerable Hyrulean ruins, this one with holes in the walls, ceiling, and floor that were large enough for the monster to fly through and disappear from its opponent's field of vision, allowing the possibility of high-speed sneak attacks.

Wen's sensory skills undoubtedly made the Aeralfos's attempts to dive bomb him from behind less effective than they would have been, but it took the Grandmaster a couple of passes to work out how best to evade and counterattack, and moreover, how to do so with enough power to force the creature to crash-land so that he could fight it conventionally.

Once it was on the ground, the Aeralfos wasn't too much trouble, although its hard scales and toughened flesh proved able to absorb considerable punishment. The winged warrior was actually able to pull itself out of Wen's striking range and dive into the hole in the floor, which led not to a lower level or an underground chamber, but open sky - and you shudder to think of where, exactly, this ruin must have been located, or what it looked like, for that to be possible.

Regardless, after seeing that escape-

"My, my, my," Wen muses, peering down at the clouds. "That is a VERY long drop."

-the Grandmaster makes a point not to let his foe get away twice. The next time he gets the Aeralfos on the ground, he breaks one of its wings.

Briar hissed in sympathy at that, but didn't blame the old man for making a smart tactical choice against a monster.

For his fourth Trial, Wen ends up in another Hyrulean ruin, one that you've seen in the Ring before.

GIANT AQUATIC AMOEBA: MORPHA

...hang on.

Sage Oldman, who threw fire around like it was going out of style.

Aeralfos, a flying monster with the added threat of being defenestrated from a very high place.

And now a watery shapeshifter.

Are the Goddesses playing to the theme of the Five Elements Style? And if so, what exactly are they going to serve up for Wen's sixth Trial? It's fairly obvious that Trial Number Five will be some kind of earth-related monster, but what, among Hyrule's vast repertoire of monstrous entities, would qualify for "Surprise"?

---

Or rather, you have a LOT of guesses, none of which seem significantly more or less likely than the others.

If the Goddesses are angling to represent the School of Five Elements' link to Time, there aren't a whole lot of Hyrulean entities that would be really appropriate. Perhaps something from the future, or MAYBE an appearance by the Princess Zelda who was involved with that Ocarina.

And if instead the Goddesses mean to play up the "Surprise" angle... well, it could be almost anything. A simple monster leaping out of ambush, a villain in disguise, a Shiekah - lots of possibilities, but no guaranteed ones.

The thought occurs that the Goddesses might send a summoned version of YOU in, but that feels unlikely.

...

You suppose you'll just have to wait and see.

If nothing else, at least you should be surprised by the reveal?

Wen's battle with Morpha sees him using a couple more openly supernatural ki techniques.

For one, the Grandmaster spends a good portion of the Trial running across or even standing still on the water that fills the trenches around the "islands" in the center of the room. This variation of Ki Step is too advanced for you to replicate at this time, but then again, you already know the Spell of Water Walking - to say nothing of the Spell of Flight - so it's not exactly a big loss.

While the instructors are impressed by the "imposter's" use of the technique, most of the masters are not really moved by it, at least not at first. Gradually, however, you hear people muttering about "the splashing" - or rather, the lack of it coming from the old man's strides - and there is a particular increase in that uneasy commentary when the Grandmaster spends a good twenty seconds just standing in one spot.

Lu-sensei informs you that the Water Walking Technique is easier to use in short bursts rather than continuously, with the latter being considered a sign of true mastery of the skill.

The other skill Wen spends a lot of the fight using is, not surprisingly, the Water Palm. There is ammunition aplenty for him to work with, and while Morpha proves able to focus its hydrokinetic powers finely enough to deflect those projectiles - and also to return "fire" with its own versions - something seems to prevent the amorphous monster from just seizing control of Wen's attacks. You figure it must be the Grandmaster's ki interfering with Morpha's magic, as something similar happens when he closes to melee range with the monster's tentacle-shaped body of animated water-

*Smack-splash*
*Smack-splash*
*Smack-splash*

-resulting in liquid going flying in such quantity and so many directions that it almost looks like a bomb going off.

You also get a look at the Water Palm's defensive applications, as Wen uses it to swat some of Morpha's water bullets out of the air without so much as having to flex a sore hand afterwards.

Once Morpha's core is booted out of its protective coating, it proves a bit more resistant to Wen's ki-infused unarmed strikes than its aquatic armor, but not inconveniently so. Of course, the creature tries to drag its sole vulnerability back into the water-

"Oh, no you don't!"

-but Wen is not having any of that, and spends a good thirty seconds running around the room with the thrashing core held tightly under one arm, his other fist coming down in a rain of blows, while tentacles, spikes, bullets, and other hostile shapes erupt from the pool in an attempt to strike him down.

He SHOULD have gotten drenched in the process, but when Morpha finally manages to wriggle free and bounce back into its haven, the Grandmaster looks no worse than if he'd been caught in a light rain, as opposed to the swimming pool's worth of water that was just thrown at him.

Although the battered monster does its best to maintain a distance from Wen after that, he inevitably gets his hands on its core once again. The fight ends soon after.

From a relatively enclosed and largely water-filled cube-shaped room that is nonetheless well-lit and seemingly well-maintained, Wen is transported to a chamber shaped like a vertical cylinder that is much more open, drier, poorly-lit and obviously run down. He stands on the rim of a broad circular depression that is kept from being a true pit due to the fact that it is full of sand, as well as the remains of some fallen stonework of uncertain provenance, forming a sort of crude ramp that leads down to the bottom of the depression, where a monstrous skeletal mass lies. A horned, fanged head and grasping claws akin to a dragon's, fixed to a torso and arms far more humanoid in form - if huge - the thing lies still, seemingly harmless, and yet clearly not always having been so, if the rusted spikes driven into its bent back and pristine but somewhat unpleasant-looking sword sticking hilt-first out of its skull are any indication.

Wen looks at the unmoving thing for a long moment, and then shakes his head. "Do I need to draw the suspicious sword from your head to get this started, or-?"

Deep within the shadows of the empty eyesockets, dull red lights burst into being. Slowly, with much creaking of ancient bone and shedding of sand, the skeletal giant draws itself up, clawing and snapping at the air as if stretching and yawning after the longest sleep imaginable.

"That's more like it," Wen observes, as he takes the opportunity to flex a couple of times himself, limbering up to prepare for his largest opponent thus far.

He's just finishing up when the monstrous skull looks down at the Grandmaster and roars.

TWILIT FOSSIL: STALLORD

---

The opening move of the Trial sees the skeletal giant taking a swing at Wen. It misses, naturally-

"Hm?!"

-but in his evasion, Wen steps off of the crumbled ramp and onto the sand that fills most of the chamber, promptly discovering that the stuff has started moving, being drawn down towards the center of the pit where Stallord's spine disappears from view. The pull of the shifting sand actually causes the Grandmaster's feet to sink beneath the surface for a moment before he adjusts his Ki Step technique to compensate, and even after that, you note that he's not moving quite as smoothly as before. Nor does he seem able to fight the "current" that way; while standing still for the handful of seconds he needs to overcome the downward pull of the terrain, Wen is dragged a couple of feet horizontally, putting him that much closer to his foe.

For its part, Stallord's left eye glares down at Wen before it uses its hands to drag its bony torso around until it's mostly facing him. Then the monstrous fossil leans back as if taking a deep breath, leans forward while dropping its lower jaw-

!

-and Wen kicks up a spray of sand as he dashes out of the way of the plume of what is either thick black smoke or dark-tainted sand, as it blasts the area where he was just standing. Once started, the Grandmaster sensibly keeps moving, as not only does Stallord's "breath" weapon continue to play out for a few more seconds, chasing him as far as it can, lesser Stals are now rising from the sands in groups of three and four, being smashed under their master's claws or sandblasted to bits as they shamble awkwardly in pursuit of the sole non-undead entity in the great chamber.

Wen quickly makes his way up to the stone pathway at the top of the chamber-

*Whirrrr*

-pausing as some kind of spike-covered grinding mechanism goes whirling by on a toothed track you didn't notice before. It lines the edge of the sandy pit, just high enough that the detritus hasn't gotten into it.

"Now what in the world...?" Wen wonders, staring at the track and the dangerous device rumbling along it for a moment, before he shrugs, casually backhands the skull off of a Stalkin that had been getting close, and steps up onto the dusty but unmoving stone.

Now having a stable vantage point to work with, Wen takes his time to consider his opponent. It's quickly apparent that as long as he stays on the stone pathway that rings the room, Stallord can't reach him with its claws. Its breath weapon technically has the range to hit, but the time it takes the beast to build up to the attack, combined with the travel time, make it too easy to avoid. The stumbling Stals aren't much more of a threat-

*Whirrrr*

-and neither is that grinding thing, as long as he keeps about a foot back from the edge when it goes by.

That said, the range is also a clear issue for Wen. He fires off a Wind Palm, then a Fire Palm, and then hops down into the sand to launch an Earth Palm, but while he can hit Stallord like this easily, the attacks don't appear to do anything. A Ki Blast proves similarly ineffective; even after the Grandmaster charges it up to the point where you'd need to use an Overload to match it, the hit just makes the skull rock slightly to one side, before it shifts right back to where it was, growling in annoyance.

"Rather tough, aren't you?" Wen muses. "Ah, well. I always did prefer to work with my hands."

And then he runs down onto the sand, smashing through a number of Stalkin as he deliberately moves into striking range of Stallord's claws.

The titan does not hesitate to bring them down-

!

-and you think you see its glowing red eye flicker in surprise as Wen slips between its claws, hops up onto the back of the left hand, and runs up the skeletal limb towards the shoulder before Stallord can raise its other claw to try and swipe him off.

*Sma-crack!*
*Sma-crack!*
*Sma-crack!*

There is a thunderous bellow as Stallord's skull is rocked by a flurry of Ki Strikes, but then its right hand arrives to crush and claw at everything on that shoulder, forcing Wen to relocate.

"Not as effective as I had hoped," the Grandmaster observes, as he reappears atop Stallord's skull, arms waving slightly to help him keep his balance despite the way the body shifts underneath him. "So let's see what happens if I pull out the sword NOW."

And he proceeds to attempt just that, wrapping his left hand up in his sleeve and two or three layers of ki before seizing the dark hilt-

*Hiss!*

-which flares with the same dark red energy filling the titan's eyesockets. In the same instant, Stallord FREEZES, and then it HOWLS in fury as it brings both clawed hands up to snatch at its unwanted passenger.

Wen makes a good effort at drawing the sword from the stony skull before the claws arive to cancel his ticket, but even with Ki Enhancement boosting his strength, he can't seem to budge the thing. That blood-tinted aura is likely fighting against his grip and anchoring the blade where it is. Maybe if he had more time, he could force the weapon out, but as it is, the Grandmaster has to give up on simply pulling it free and jump to safety before he gets clawed.

Even then, he delivers a solid kick to the blade on his way out, but the sword remains unmoved.

"Also less effective than I had hoped," Wen says to himself, before landing amid a crowd of Stalkin and reducing them to so many loose bones with a few casual strikes. "But if not the head or the sword, where are you truly vulnerable... hm?"

That last utterance was made as the Grandmaster glanced down at his feet, which had been dragged fairly deep into the sinking sands due to the force of his landing. Wen looks at his lower limbs VERY thoughtfully for a moment even as he pulls them free to stand atop the surface of the sand once more, before his gaze is drawn over to Stallord - specifically, to where its tree-trunk-sized vertebrae emerge from the roiling dusty depths, seemingly unmoving despite the strong downward pull.

Then he has to get out of the way as another cloud of darkness descends to shred the area.

---

Stallord's dark breath weapon causes Wen a little annoyance, but the monster can't aim the attack straight down, and its neck isn't long enough to make up the difference. As a result, there's an area underneath the giant's exposed ribcage where it's possible for Wen to just jog right up to the spine without having to worry about being shredded.

Of course, several Stalkin rise in the shadow of the bones to try and stop the old man, but-

*Smash*
*Smash*
*Smash*

-yeah, they aren't even slowing him down. The shifting suction of the sand that would normally make this kind of approach a hazard is thwarted by Wen's Ki Step, and while there's enough space between the bottom of its lowest rib and the top of the sand for Stallord to get a claw in, the giant can't do so fast enough to keep the Grandmaster from taking a stance before its spinal column, breathing in and out with quick precision, and then delivering one massive blow-

*Crack!*

Gained Mighty Blow D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

-which sends cracks spiderwebbing through the bone.

You aren't sure why Wen was able to inflict this much damage to the spine when his attack on the skull yielded so much less result. Was it the difference in his stance? Is the spine far enough away from the sword that seems to be the source of Stallord's animating energy that some defense is weakened? Or is the strain of carrying all the weight of that fossilized torso contributing and making the vertebra more fragile somehow?

Regardless, dark smoke almost immediately begins to seep from the gaps. You have some trouble seeing what happens next, as Stallord's claws arrive and force Wen around to the far side of the spinal column. The image is obscured for a moment-

*Crack!*

-but then Stallord howls as the center of its spine is blown to pieces by Wen's second power strike. The Grandmaster runs for it as the suddenly-unbalanced titan falls-

!

-for all of about a foot, before it catches itself on something, hesitates for an instant, and then roars furiously and moves to seek vengeance.

Now that he has some idea of how to at least hurt his opponent, it's mainly just a matter of time before Wen breaks its back again, and then does so for a THIRD time, after which the monster not only falls to the ground, but goes still and begins to sink into the sand.

Shortly after Stallord vanishes from sight, the susurrant noise of the shifting sands intensifies, and you watch on as the debris is somehow drained away until the pit is emptied, revealing several more of those strange circular tracks lining the now-exposed stone walls, and a largely intact floor whose clear surface is marred only by the presence of Stallord's motionless skull and some kind of hole.

"Where did the rest of the body go?" somebody wonders.

"No doubt it disintegrated," Batreaux says.

"Oh, it's like THAT..."

Wen gives the latter a brief glance before going straight for the skull, no doubt meaning to do something about that sword. No sooner does he leap atop the bodiless head than the light returns to the darkened sockets, a flare that you think registers surprise.

Then Stallord launches itself into the air-

"It FLIES, now?"

-and spins about until Wen is flung away.

With a wide open space to work with, the giant floating head has little to fear as it begins spitting man-sized fireballs down at its enemy. Fortunately, these do not explode like the spell when they hit something, and their warm-up time - especially the accompanying glow in the back of what throat Stallord still possesses - gives Wen plenty of advance warning. This does leave the question of how he's supposed to hit the thing...

I want to say let him figure it out for himself, but...

...yeah, it kind of looks bad to force him to fight like this.

Then you notice a mote of golden light appearing over by that hole which Wen ignored earlier. Both fighters sense it and turn their attention that way, just in time to see-

"Is... is that a giant TOP?"

-what does indeed appear to be a top large enough for a man to stand on falling into the hole, where it proves to fit perfectly into the half-concealed mechanisms that lie beneath. Guided by unseen hands, the thing starts turning, slowly at first but then faster and faster-

!

-and then machinery deeper in the floor starts to groan and rumble, shaking the entire room as a massive platform some three-quarters the width of the chamber begins to rise up, and up, and UP, revealing yet another of those strange tracks, this one coiling about the enormous pillar from top down to bottom.

Stallord's skull lurches out of the way of the rising stone with a cry that sounds like a protest.

Wen just stands there, in the newly-formed chasm, watching the proceedings. "...huh."

And all around you, you sense members of the audience looking your way with expressions of baffled inquiry.

---

"They really, REALLY like their puzzles."

"The people of that kingdom really, REALLY like their puzzles," you explain with a sigh. "So much so that they build whole temple complexes full of the things as some kind of combination security system and 'test of worthiness' - and some of those places have caused literal trauma."

See Navi after the Water Temple.

Or Ganondorf in general.

Link would undoubtedly have some stories from his various incarnations, even if his current one isn't consciously aware of them.

One of these days, some mad Sage is going to get the idea to build a "Temple of Puzzles" or "Puzzle Palace" or something of that nature, and NOBODY is going to go near the damn place, even if it means that the kingdom is rendered unconquerable or unsavable forever.

Back in the Ring, Stallord's floating skull has gotten over its anger at the Goddesses' interruption - or at least decided to channel that frustration productively - and begun navigating the newly-formed circular chasm in a search for Wen. The Grandmaster, meanwhile, is still studying the changes in the local architecture-

*Whirrrr*

-which you now note includes more of those rail-riding grinders. While the ones on the outer wall are simply circling the room at high speed, due to the closed circuit formed by each of their respective tracks, the mechanisms on the central island are emerging from a hole in the base of the massive pillar, winding their way up the spiral, and then presumably disappearing into another opening at the top.

Wen observes the speed and route of the dangerous devices for a minute, before nodding to himself again, running straight at the wall, and then continuing straight UP it. He timed his ascent well, not only avoiding crossing paths with the spinning blades on his way to the top, but also managing to be out of Stallord's downward-aimed field of vision when it swings around. If the undead monster thought to glance up, it might still see the Grandmaster, but either the notion doesn't occur to it or just comes too late, as Wen clears the rim of the island without issue.

His attention goes immediately to the hole where the strange top-

"Hm?"

-has disappeared?

We can't make it THAT easy.

Shrugging, Wen turns about and looks over the edge, measuring the distance between himself and his opponent, and estimating speeds. Then he runs towards a different point along the side of the pillar, takes a flying leap, and sails through the air in a movement that is half controlled fall, half vertical flying kick.

"That's the Meteor Kick!"

"It doesn't mean anything!"

Riding a current of momentum, air, and ki, the edges of his clothing billowing out around him like small wings, Wen shoots down towards Stallord's skull-

!

-and something, whether the flapping of cloth or a whisper of life-force, seems to alert the monster to the incoming presence, as Stallord comes to a sudden stop in mid-air and looks around uncertainly for a moment. The disembodied flying head has just started to turn on its lateral axis to aim one glowing eyesocket upwards when the Grandmaster makes contact-

*Wha-CRUNCH!*

-transferring all of the ki-boosted force of his falling form into the fossilized bone through one foot.

Something audibly breaks, but more than that, the sudden downward impact actually seems to stun Stallord, or maybe more correctly, it disrupts the magic of the sword that's keeping the thing animated. Either way, the skull is knocked out of the air, crashing to the ground below.

Wen rides the falling mass of bone partway down, backflipping off just a moment before impact to make his own, much neater landing. Stallord has barely come to a halt when the Grandmaster rushes forward, connecting with a second, more traditional sort of aerial kick - which, like the first, is aimed at the ridge of bone where the enchanted blade is planted.

Gained Leap Attack D (Plus)

The pained roar and flash of dark energy suggests that, for whatever reason, this is the correct mode of attack now. Exploiting the "weak spot" is complicated by the fact that Stallord's skull is big enough, and has come down at a sufficiently awkward angle, that Wen cannot easily strike it either from the ground or while standing atop it. Still, between flying kicks, rapid mid-air strikes, and the ki enhancements backing both, he's able to do some damage before the dark magic stabilizes enough for Stallord to drag itself back into the air.

Now that Wen has figured out how to hurt his enemy, you're certain the remainder of the fight will be brief.

It is, but the Grandmaster manages to surprise you-

"Ehhh!?"

-and quite a few other people in the audience when, instead of running up the side of the island again, he hops atop one of the grinders and RIDES it, spinning through a full three hundred and sixty degrees every six seconds or so, up the side of the column.

When the circuit eventually brings Stallord back into view, you SWEAR that the undead skull does a double-take at the sight. Getting over its surprise, Stallord maintains a steady distance from Wen and his, uh, vehicle as it charges up another blast of fire-

"Ha!"

-only for Wen to half-punch, half-chop his way through the massive fireball.

Stallord glares at the defense and tries again-

"Ha!"

-to about the same effect.

Shaking in clear anger, the monster builds up an even BIGGER reserve of fire-

"Too slow!"

-only for Wen to launch himself from the grinder in another flying leap. This one isn't intended as an attack, just a repositioning, and it succeeds in putting the Grandmaster directly on top of Stallord's head, right behind the sword.

He wastes no time in striking with as much speed and force as he can muster.

Stallord drops out of the air with a cry of pain, crashing once again.

Wen isn't QUITE able to finish the fight with this second landing, but the third time proves to pay for all, and when Stallord's skull shatters, the sword goes flying into the air in a long arc that ends with its blade planted in the stone floor.

Wen eyes it cautiously once again, but after a momentary pause, the weapon shatters.

For the sixth Trial, the Grandmaster is deposited in... a pretty ordinary-looking room, actually. No pits or mechanisms, no strange shapes, just a cube of open, well-lit space-

!

-with a lot of shadows moving around, even though there doesn't seem to be anything there to cast them.

As you watch, the sourceless shadows slide down the walls and across the floor to the central part of the room, where they combine and then rise as one, becoming the three-dimensional equivalent of a silhouette. From the slightly bent-backed shape of the body, the style of the long hair, and the cut of the clothes, the entity's form is that of an old woman, or would be if it wasn't a dark spot in space, with no color but for its glowing orange eyes, its quite solid and actually remarkably well cared-for hair, and a decorated shawl.

"Hya hya hya!" it cackles, in a way that reminds you of Koume and Kotake, even if the voice is quite different and strangely hollow besides. "You can't see me, for I-"

"But you're right there?" Wen points out.

"-am right... no, wait, that's not what I meant!" The glowing eyes narrow a little more. "Shouldn't a man of your years know better than to interrupt a lady when she's speaking?"

"Should not a lady of your-"

The eyes narrow to slits-

"-experience-"

-and relax slightly.

"-know better than to talk during a fight?"

"Give a girl a break, will you? I don't get a lot of chances to properly threaten people!"

"Ah. Well, then. As you were."

"Thank you." The shadow coughs into one clawed fist, and then resumes her original menacing stance. "You can't see me, for-"

"Surprise attack!" Wen declares, leaping forward.

"Wah!"

TENEBRAL TRICKSTER: SHADOW HAG

---

The Grandmaster's surprise attack is answered with a "surprise defense," as the Shadow Hag's body immediately collapses back into the ground-based shadow from which it emerged, leaving only the slits of her glowing eyes to be seen.

"Oooh, just for that-!" she declares, before the pool of darkness splits apart into four separate masses, each about three feet across, which fly out in different directions at high speed before beginning to crawl about the room.

You have no idea what would happen if any of those patches of creeping shadow made contact with Wen - or for that matter, with HIS shadow - and given what you know about Shadow Magic and the entities and forces it can conjure up, you aren't sure that you'd care to find out. Not outside of a controlled environment, anyway.

Wen seems to share that opinion, as he spends the next few moments watching where he puts his feet, a task that is thankfully not made too difficult by the lighting.

Just as you consider that the Shadow Hag could be a whole lot more dangerous if she were capable of casting a simple Spell of Darkness, her "split shadow" form reassembles into one whole shadow, off in what you're going to label the upper-left corner of the chamber. Wen immediately turns to face it, and thus gets to witness as the writhing darkness rises up once more, giving rise not to the Hag herself, but rather to a small swarm of shrieking insects, half a dozen in number and each about the size of a Keese.

You recognize them as Hyrulean Moths, minor monsters so named because, apart from their size, that's almost exactly what they look like.

Granted, they tend to have patterns on their wings that resemble skulls, evil runes, and other symbols of dread, and you don't think ordinary moths have mandibles that are THAT big relative to the rest of their bodies, but the resemblance is there all the same.

The bugs give Wen no trouble, but while his attention is directed at them, you see the Shadow Hag appear out of thin air just a few feet BEHIND him, from where she wastes no time in rushing forward, claws reaching out-

*Pow!*

"Ow!"

-only to take a spinning backfist to the face that sends her staggering back the OTHER way, somewhat more slowly than she came but still rather faster than you would have expected, even with Ki Enhancement behind the blow. Either Wen is using a LOT more force all of a sudden, or the Shadow Hag is a lot lighter than she appears.

"You insensitive brute!" the creature shrieks. "If I had a nose, you would have broken it just now!"

"That was the idea!" Wen protests.

"Have you no respect for women!?"

"I respect them enough not to pull my punches!"

"Thug! Beast! Enemy of women!"

Looking around at the audience, you notice that the female members of the School of Five Elements are either looking distinctly unimpressed by the Shadow Hag's accusations, or else laughing at her.

For his part, Wen uses the rant-

"An opening!"

-as another opportunity to close the distance and strike at the Shadow Hag again. This time, he's quick enough to connect-

*Poof*

-only for the shadow-spirit to vanish in a puff of darkness, and promptly teleport behind the Grandmaster again, much closer than the last time and with her claws about to connect-

*Blink*

"What the-!?"

-and then Wen disappears into a Body Flicker and reappears behind the Hag-

*Poof*

-who once again disperses and rematerializes behind HIM-

"Ha-"

*Pow*

"-again with the face!?"

-only for that to prove to be a mistake.

By this point, you hear a lot of the crowd muttering to themselves and each other about something strange that's going on. Thrice, now, Wen has failed to land a meaningful blow on the Shadow Hag when attacking her straight on, which might make it seem she's immune to physical attacks - as one might expect of an immaterial shadow - yet on two separate occasions, he's been able to hit her cleanly, while his back was (mostly) turned.

Is that the trick to beating this monster? To strike her without looking directly at her?

"Shoe to the head!" Wen cries.

"No, no-!" the Hag screeches, crossing her arms in a high block-

*Pow!*

"Guuuh-!"

-only to take the Grandmaster's back-kick to the stomach instead.

"Not my faaaace-!" the creature chokes out in protest, as this rather harder blow sends her properly flying away.

Theory seems to check out. The trick will be for Wen to close the distance without looking... and he just closed his eyes, turned about, and started running at the Hag.

"What are you- wait, why aren't I-!?"

She blinks out before Wen manages to reach her, but it does seem like she needed to consciously activate the trick this time, instead of it kicking in automatically like it did before. It's like a weird reverse gaze attack; instead of imposing a condition on her enemies when she looks at them, the Hag imposes a condition upon herself when somebody looks at HER.

---

"Would the training for fighting with your eyes closed happen to involve wearing a helmet with an opaque visor down, Sensei?" you ask.

"You joke, but I have actually heard of a helmet like that."

You blink at that. "Really?"

He nods. "Not for training purposes, mind you; the story I was told described the helm in question as having been enchanted as a counter to medusae, basilisks, and other creatures with dangerous gazes."

Probably just a bit expensive for a piece of training equipment, then.

"As to your question," your master continues, while you chase away mental images of lightsabers and hovering zappy remotes, "training for blind-fighting typically involves blindfolds, and later, earplugs."

"...what, 'deaf-fighting' is a thing, too?"

"Consider how many ways you personally know to create loud noises."

Well, the Fireball Spell is actually fairly quiet for an "explosion," but you could ritually cast a variation of it - or of many other magics in your arsenal - that dealt sonic damage instead of thermal. You also know several spells that attack with noise outright, such as the Spell of Shouting, a few that produce harmful levels of sound as a secondary effect, and then there's the vast array creatures you could call up with Summoning Magic.

So, yeah, when you think about it, you can see where Lu-sensei is coming from. With your vision disabled, falling back on your hearing would be the natural thing to do, but what do you do if THAT sense has also been compromised somehow?

"Use Ki Sense, duh," your mind offers snarkily, but almost immediately, another voice in your head asks what happens if THAT skill isn't reliable for some reason? What then?

You've got enough alternate modes of sensory perception that you'd be difficult to inconvenience just by temporary visual impairment, to say nothing of your access to healing magic, but even so, you can *ahem* see the practicality of the skill of blind-fighting. If nothing else, once learned, it would be something you'd always have access to, and hence could fall back on at a moment's notice.

Spells aren't quite so fast, and while ki techniques would be competitive in that regard, they still have other associated costs, be it in terms of energy expenditure or the number of techniques you have to juggle at once.

Seeing that you've grasped the point, Lu-sensei informs you that the training for this skill is part of the usual curriculum for his advanced class, most of whom are old enough that they'd occasionally have to be out after dark for one reason or another. And while Sunnydale is hardly pitch-black at night, you know from your own experience with being outdoors at night that the streetlights are spaced out enough to be more of a hindrance to human night-vision than a help.

So, yeah, it makes sense that Lu-sensei would teach people how to fight without needing to rely solely on their eyes.

Something to *ahem again* look forward to when you move up to that class in the coming weeks.

---

While you're discussing blind-fighting with Lu-sensei, Grandmaster Wen continues to give a practical demonstration of the skill. His movements are slower and more obvious this way than they were before, reflecting a certain lack of casual familiarity with the ability on his part, but the fact that he's still able to fight against a supernatural opponent with his eyes closed still says impressive things.

The Shadow Hag tries calling up more Moths a few times, likely checking whether or not the noise of their wings and squealing cries can distract Wen from her-

*Pow*

"Ugh!"

-which turns out not to be the case. Once that is made clear, the entity changes tactics and starts appearing in the air above Wen, to drop on him from that angle you know most humans are never prepared to be attacked from.

A vertical assault does get the Shadow closer to her target-

*Shift*
*Grab*
*Slam*

"Ooof!"

-but Wen still senses her approach somehow, seizes one of her outstretched arms with both hands, and makes as if he were swinging the world's most curiously-shaped hammer.

And then, since the Shadow Hag seems to be stunned by the impact and Wen still has a grip on her, he turns around, yanks her into the air-

"Gah, my arm!"

*Slam*

-and over his head, before bringing her back down again, only a bit less violently than before.

The Shadow's low body weight was definitely working against her there, although it also reduces how much force she hits the ground with, and consequently how badly she's rattled by the impact. Specifically, when the Hag collides with the floor a second time, her body discorporates, escaping Wen's grip regardless of whatever physical or ki techniques he's using.

After this, the Hag finally goes all-out, calling up multiple images of herself to surround Wen on all four sides. From the way the Grandmaster's stance changes, he clearly registers the three added presences and considers them some kind of threat-

Gained Crowd Control C (Plus)

-an estimation that is born out when the quartet close in, hissing and clawing, managing to slice away bits of Wen's outfit and possibly bits of the man himself-

*Poof*
*Poof*

-even as his counterattacks disrupt the projections one-by-one-

*Pow*

"Gah!"

-until by process of elimination, he hits the original.

In the face, again.

"How do you keep-!?" the Shadow Hag demands furiously.

It's a mistake on her part, as she's still within punching distance, and her last remaining duplicate dispersed when she was hit.

With no distractions and his target right there, Wen does the sensible thing-

"Wa-ta-ta-ta-"

-and delivers a flurry of blows that rock the Hag backwards, yet not so far or so quickly that the Grandmaster can't take measured steps to keep her within range of his retaliation. With each strike, you notice Wen's hands glowing, the concentration of ki increasing steadily until it bleeds into the visible spectrum-

"-ta-ta-ta-TA!"

-with the last blow not just glowing but EXPLODING with energy, blasting the Shadow Hag backwards with a pained, mournful wail.

"You... monster," she gasps out.

*Boom*

And then the Shadow Hag explodes, as Hyrulean monsters often do.

The next time Wen opens his eyes, it's to a different arena - and to the no less than THREE heads of a towering draconic presence.

"Is that a hydra?" one of the masters in the audience wonders.

THREE-HEADED DRAGON: GLEEOK

"I stand corrected."

"Hello, lunch," one of the heads growls, licking its chops.

"Looks more like an appetizer than a meal," another head observes critically.

"It's not like we can ACTUALLY eat him," the third sighs.

"Both of you, shut it."

"Well, I never-!"

"I'm just saying-"

Wen, meanwhile, is looking up at the dragon with a mix of the same delight you saw Master Nielson trying to hide earlier, and a completely different sort of curiosity that has him looking from head to head to head as they quarrel.

Perhaps he's never run into a multi-headed monster before? Or at least not one intelligent enough to carry on proper conversations with itself...

Incidentally, this doesn't sound like the same Gleeok you and Arthur Drake took turns fighting back during your birthday Trials. The third head was a good clue, but it IS entirely possible that the monster you faced was an earlier incarnation; the confirmation came when it started speaking, as none of the voices match.

...wait, do the personalities of a Gleeok's heads change if and when they're cut off and allowed to regrow?

---

"Is it just me, or does it seem like they're fighting each other?" somebody wonders.

"They're arguing about whether or not Wen counts as 'lunch,'" you reply.

"What, really?"

"Huh."

"They're smart enough to argu- wait, you understand them?"

"I do speak some Draconic," you explain, "but I also have a translation spell going."

Though after four days of constant immersion, you probably don't need the Spell of Tongues to translate the local dialect any longer.

Meanwhile, in the Trial...

"It was a figure of speech!"

"Don't you start arguing linguistics with me!"

"Brothers, please, you're embarrassing us in front of the mortal."

"Oh, by all means, don't mind me," Wen says graciously.

"Eh/huh/wha-?"

"HE speaks Dragon?" somebody in the audience exclaims.

"That's still not conclusive," comes the rejoinder.

You can't help but note that this protest is weaker than the ones that preceded it. It makes sense; in addition to fighting his way through a selection of opponents that have, in general, been rather nastier than what the other masters faced, Wen has shown off a number of techniques of the School of Five Elements, ranging from common maneuvers polished to the point of (grand)mastery to a couple of advanced skills you hadn't seen used before. And those are just the ones you recognized or heard named by the audience, there have undoubtedly been a few master-level moves that you missed.

"Does the School teach Dragon, Sensei?" you ask.

"Nothing so grand as that. There is a technique for comprehending the intent, if not the EXACT words, of other creatures, but as it leans rather heavily into the spiritual side of things, I've never been very good at it."

"How good is 'not very good'?"

"A master of the skill can understand and be understood by any other creature that has a spoken language," Lu-sensei explains. "The best I've managed over the years is to sort out accents in languages I already know, and catch the general intent of what's being said in others. Even then, I find it easier to follow along with humans and near-human monsters, though admittedly that could be lack of exposure to other tongues."

Yeah, you can see how that might be an issue for him. Sure, for every demon that isn't keen on chatting with the human it plans to eat, there's another that can't stop boasting about how evil it is - the problem is that Lu-sensei is capable of killing most of those things fast enough that they wouldn't have time to get more than a few words out, and that's assuming they saw him coming, which they might well not.

"I'll gladly wait my turn while you sort more important matters out," the Grandmaster is continuing.

"Huh. A human that knows his place."

"Manners? How delightful!"

"Well, thank you for thaaand you're just waiting for us to waste time and energy fighting each other, aren't you?" the third head asks, suddenly squinting at Wen in suspicion.

The other two heads blink in unison and then quickly mirror their brother's expression.

"I would never dream of it," the little smiling old man declares, as if shocked by the very idea.

"Hm/hm/hm..."

"Eat him just to be sure?"

"Can't be a witness if he's lunch!"

"Oh, sure, NOW you agree with me..."

"Serious question, though," the middle head asks. "Do we eat him fresh, or cooked?"

By way of answer, the left head shoots forward, trying to bite Wen, while the right head takes a deep breath, lungs swelling with visible heat.

"I guess that works," Middle muses, before Right's flames erupt.

The match that follows is a bit of a reversal of your own, in that, instead of starting in the air and trying to burn its quarry out of (magical) hiding, this Gleeok started on the ground and has full view of Wen-

*Blink*

"Hey!"

"No fair disappear- oh, you're just really fast."

"How is that any better!?"

-well, most of the time. After seeing a couple of dodges and then a Body Flicker-

*Pow*

"Ow!"

"Did- did he do that with just his FIST?"

"Since when can humans hit hard enough for us to feel it without even using a weapon!?"

Wen, incidentally, is shaking his hand a bit after that, clearly unused to hitting something as physically and mystically resilient as a dragon.

-and getting a taste of what a Ki Strike feels like, the dragon's heads think better of remaining earthbound where Wen can reach them and spread their wings. Rather than take off immediately, the Gleeok hunkers down for a moment, seeming to dig its claws into the ground as it flaps its wings, generating a considerable windstorm in an attempt to literally blow Wen away. It doesn't entirely fail, at that; when the Grandmaster saw the wings open up, he tried to close with his opponent, no doubt aiming to do some damage to one wing to prevent them from taking off, but inexperience with just how much force a dragon's wings can put out caught the Founder by surprise. He didn't get flung clear across the rocky field, but there was some rolling and sliding involved before he managed to recover and lean into the wind.

By that point, Gleook had let up its anchoring grip and started into an ascent.

"Try hitting us now!" Left declares with wicked glee.

Wen winds up a Ki Blast-

"Wait, what is he-"

*Zap*

"-ow."

-and hits Left in the snout.

"That thtingth," the head complains, long tongue extending to lick at its sore nose.

"You DID ask for it," Middle remarks without mercy.

Right just snickers.

"Stop laughing at me and help me roast this runt already."

Gleeok's other two heads oblige the request, and all three of them inhale deeply, causing the monster's chest to expand to the point where it seems to have doubled in size, with an intense light blazing from within.

Wen takes a deep breath himself and runs through a quick stretch-

*FWOOOOSH!*

-and then there is FIRE.

---

When the Grandmaster emerges from the cloud of dragonbreath a moment later, you notice a number of things.

For one, he's in another tumbling roll, which has to be banging him up a bit. The direction he's moving makes it clear he took a dive of his own free will, rather than being blown off his feet by the force of the threefold fireblast.

The reason for that decision is quickly made apparent when you realize that some of the tongues of fire hanging about Wen aren't just plumes trailing from the greater volume of the cloud, but small flames that are clinging to the martial artist and his clothes - at least for the handful of seconds it takes for his roll in the dirt and some swift but unhurried hand-slaps to extinguish.

He was, quite literally, on fire there for a moment, a testament to the Gleeok's raw firepower. Whether that'll happen EVERY time the dragon breathes in Wen's direction, or if this result was brought about by all three heads combining their attacks, is another question.

"Would you look at that?" Middle says with surprise. "He's not dead!"

"I dare say he's not much more than singed," Right adds, sounding impressed.

"How!?" Left exclaims. "He was right in the middle of that!"

"Maybe he's wearing one of those cheating rings?" Right suggests.

"...I don't see one," Left replies after a moment and a squint.

Trust a dragon to notice shinies, or the absence thereof.

"Probably not a spell woven into his clothes, either," Middle muses.

"Yeah, they're looking a little burnt," Left grumbles. "Not as much as they SHOULD, but..."

"Maybe he's part dragon?"

Middle and Left stop and stare at Right.

"...I mean, it's possible...?"

"We would have smelled that," Middle says mildly.

"Idiot," Left says.

"Don't call me an idiot!"

"Then don't act like one!"

While the dragon's heads quarrel and wait for their internal fire to recover enough for another bombardment, Wen has finished putting out the fires trying to cling to him, and begun working on the old problem of How to Fight a Flying Dragon From the Ground.

If Arthur's bout with the two-headed Gleeok was any indication, knights are able to pull that off because the presence of over half a ton of armor-clad horse and rider registers as a challenge to a dragon. Or maybe they see it as a combination of a nice little fight, a big meal, AND a big shiny prize to claim afterwards?

Whichever the case, Wen is a whole lot smaller and less shiny than a fully kitted-out knight and his trusty steed, so he's not likely to convince the Gleeok to come back down and fight him hand-to-tooth-and-claw. Your discussion about the secret techniques of the Crane School the other day revealed that the School of Five Elements doesn't have a flight technique of its own, but maybe if the Grandmaster has a move that he developed in his centuries in the Punch Plane, or that he was working on in life and didn't hand down to his disciples before he didn't die...?

When Gleeok wheels around and begins its next attack run, Wen faces it for a moment, measuring the speed and angle of the dragon's approach, before he breaks into a run and starts closing the distance.

The three heads start in surprise at this and put some more energy into their maneuvering to compensate for their target's rapid approach, slowing slightly to give themselves more time on target, but also going from a straight advance to a more zig-zagging one in anticipation of a counterattack.

Once again, the Gleeok spits forth a firestorm, swallowing the Grandmaster-

!

-who comes rocketing out of the top of the fireball, ki trailing from his feet like a short-lived rocket thruster as he JUMPS-

"Hwuh-!" Left exclaims.

"Ha'ch i'!" Middle demands, flinching away from the flames that are suddenly going in other directions.

"I 'o' 'im!" Right says, twisting about to reorient his breath on the airborne martial artist.

-punches through another, weaker jet of flame, and comes out of THAT shedding his now-properly burning and blackened outer mantle. Despite the hit, Wen is still going strong, reaching out with his ki as he grasps and strides and otherwise maneuvers on and through the air around him, dodging a clumsy snap of jaws and the thrashing of a neck as he comes in for a landing on the dragon's broad back.

"Barrel roll!" one of the heads declares, right before the entire body starts to move accordingly.

Too bad for them that, between Ki Grip and the spines along their, well, spine, Wen's got plenty to hang on to. Likewise, the dragon can't actually fly upside-down, they have to complete the lateral spin and resume their original orientation-

"Ha!"

*Pow-pow-pow-pow-pow!*

"Ow!"

"Quit that!"

"Wow, I actually CAN feel- I mean, ow!"

-which is the Grandmaster's cue to make with the violence once more.

---

Wen focuses his efforts on the base of the Gleeok's right wing, simply because it's closer to where he landed and allows him to keep one hand on the spine that he used as an anchor when the dragon tried to throw him a moment ago.

You see brief discharges of ki as the Grandmaster tries to disrupt his opponent's energy flows, which would temporarily paralyze, numb, or otherwise disable that wing, and thus force the Gleeok to land. Unfortunately for Wen, the life-force of dragons is a potent thing, making them highly resistant to most attempts to interfere with the normal functioning of their bodies, and outright immune to a few.

To his credit, Wen doesn't seem particularly surprised or dismayed by the failure of his chosen tactic; instead, he moves on to attempting to disable the wing by main force.

"Ow!"

"Stop that!"

The Gleeok's heads try to crane around to snap or spit back at their unwanted passenger, but as long and as flexible as their necks are, they still can't reach the Grandmaster, and it takes enough time for them to recover their fiery breath between uses that they only get off one shot - or three shots, depending on how you're counting. Even then, the angle is not great, although the Left head shows some cleverness when, rather than trying to force his flames to follow a certain path, he just breathes out slowly and lets the air currents whipping over his back carry the fire in Wen's direction.

After all, as a rule, dragons are immune to their own breath weapons. Hitchhikers, not so much.

Given his situation, the best Wen can do in terms of evading the attack is to briefly give up on his efforts to maim the Gleeok's wing and duck behind the spine, putting as much of it between himself and the incoming blaze as possible.

Coming from just one head, being unfocused on top of that, and with the wind carrying it along, this cloud of fire is considerably less potent than the previous ones, but Wen's inability to truly dodge the attack without jumping off of Gleeok's back - as well as the loss of his outermost garment - means that the blaze is actually somewhat more effective than its predecessors. When the Grandmaster emerges from his cover, the exposed skin of his head, neck, and arms is visibly and painfully red, and his remaining clothing is once again trailing fire.

"Ha! Got him!" Left crows.

"He's still moving!" Middle warns.

"I'll get-!"

Right is still lining up his shot when the Grandmaster lets go of his spiky anchor, raises both hands above his head, fists clenched together, and brings them down in a hammer-blow that burns in your Ki Sight.

"HA!"

*Snap*

The Gleeok lets loose a three-throated roar of pain and fury as its right wing gives out - broken, stunned, or just terribly painfully bruised, you aren't sure - and its body begins a sudden and uncontrolled descent.

Wen, of course, abandons ship well before impact, leaping towards a nearby stone formation in a long, smooth jump that seems to involve him walking on air - if only very, very briefly.
There is a great deal of angry snarling, most of it unintelligible roaring, as the Gleeok picks itself up from the crash-site. What you can pick up-

"-bite his hands and feet off, one at a time, then the next parts of the limb-"

"-burn the ends so he doesn't bleed out-"

"Ugh, why is everything ouch...?"

-is unpleasant, but not exactly unexpected.

Even as they mutter and moan, the three heads crane about, seeking their enemy, and swiftly spot Grandmaster Wen standing atop the stone formation where he landed. The mass in question is large enough and elevated enough - somewhere past fifteen feet high, you figure, and a good part of that vertical - that the Gleeok wouldn't simply be able to run Wen over.

Which comes in handy when the dragon's heads snarl and the whole mass of its body charges towards the source of its injury and embarrassment with a tri-throated roar and a thunder of great clawed feet.

Wen backs up a bit before the monster arrives, giving himself room to avoid the dragon's front claws as they clamber up the side of the stone and just over the top edge. The Gleeok is too big and probably a bit too pained to haul all of its weight up and onto the volcanic formation, so it stands there on its hindquarters while using the front pair's grip on the dark rock to help hold it upright, and just uses its heads to snap at Wen.

Even with his obvious injuries and the more limited room to maneuver while staying atop the rock, the Grandmaster's mobility doesn't seem to have been compromised. You can only assume he's got a ki technique for numbing pain going, or is simply tough enough after decades of life and centuries of ascended existence to treat this level of damage as nothing special. The result, then, is a lot of dragon teeth-

*SNAP*

-closing on empty air while Wen ducks, dodges, and leaps about-

"Ha!"

*Pow*

-getting in some head-shots of his own.

Before long, of course, the Gleeok's breath weapon has recovered, and as before, all three heads combine their firepower as one-

"HA!"

-only for Wen to pull out that trick he used against Sage Oldman, and punch a "path" through the incoming inferno-

"'hu' 'a!?"

"'ee' 'ea'in'!"

-which he maintains with a visible effort, standing there with both fists thrust into the ongoing firestorm, radiating ki that forces even a dragon's fire to move aside ever so slightly. The heat must still be dreadful, but there's enough space left flame-free for a ki-reinforced, elementally attuned martially-ascended human body to not get incinerated.

When the dragon's breath cuts out a long moment later, the three heads regard Wen with a mix of disbelief, anger, and grudging respect.

Then, of course, they try to bite him to pieces again - and that, you think, is the dragon's mistake, because there are only so many ways it can attack like this, and they're angry enough that they're falling back on just biting the source of their frustration instead of doing something more productive, like flapping their wings again and blowing Wen off his makeshift fighting platform. Even if the fall didn't hurt him, being forced back onto the actual ground would put him in range of a lot more of the Gleeok's attacks.

But by insisting on biting, the Gleeok has fallen into the bad habit exhibited by so many of Hyrule's monsters, using predictable methods and patterns of attacks that a keen eye can spot, anticipate, and exploit.

Which Wen does, first to land a few more blows to the heads, but then-

"Get it off, get it off-!"

-to jump on top of the Right Head and hold on tight, just at the base of the skull-

"Hold still, I'll get him-!"

"Wait, don't-!"

-only to flip himself out of the way as the Left Head comes in, jaws wide-

*Sna-crunch!*

"...oophs," Left mumbles, around a mouthful of scaly flesh and bone.

"Now THAT'S embarrassing," Middle groans.

Right sort of gurgles for a moment, before going limp.

And then it is Wen's turn to do a double-take, as the dragon's neck half-rots, half-explodes, and the Right Head floats into the air, splitting its angry glare between Wen and Lefty.

"What the hell!?" somebody in the audience demands.

"That's cheating!"

*CRASH*

And then the Gleeok touches down, sending quite a lot of dust and a certain amount of forcibly-exhaled fire into the air.

---

"This is actually perfectly normal for a Gleeok."

"Say what?"

"Flying severed heads is normal?"

"For this kind of dragon, yes." And for at least one Knight of the Realm, although Jermafencer didn't make an appearance in today's Trials for whatever reason. "I mean, not ALL Gleeoks have that ability," you clarify, "but it's a known variant of the species."

"Do I even want to know what the others are like?"

"They're not that bad," you reply mildly. "The most common differences are down to the number of heads-"

"The standing record is four," Briar offers helpfully.

"-whether or not a given Gleeok has the ability to fly-"

There is a gout of fire on the viewing globe.

"-and what sort of breath weapon they have. Fire's the most common, but ice isn't unknown, particularly with aquatic offshoots, and I wouldn't be surprised if there were lightning-breathing, acid-spewing, or poison-spitting Gleeoks out there somewhere."

Really, the draconic aspect of their heritage almost ensures that to be the case. For that matter, you recall that there's at least one kind of Gleeok that was able to breathe fire AND ice, if only from different heads, so that's precedent for other elemental combinations.

"And the 'uncommon' differences?"

"Whether or not the heads can detach like this, whether or not they can reattach afterwards or have to regrow the long way, and I think there was one kind of Gleeok that could animate its headless body to keep attacking."

As you speak, the battle continues. The severed Right Head is still able to shoot fire, although instead of great blazing gouts, it's now limited to small projectiles; aside from that, its only means of attack are biting or perhaps ramming, both of which are difficult to do with a target as nimble as Wen. The Head's ability to attack from an entirely different angle than the rest of the body, while potentially advantageous, doesn't seem to be helping as much in this particular fight; the Grandmaster is just too aware of his surroundings, and the Head too lacking in a means of truly capitalizing on its positioning.

Another benefit to the loss of the third head becomes clear the next time the Gleeok tries to combine its flaming breath to sweep the top of the "stage" where Wen stands. With just two blasts of fire merging together, the overall volume and intensity of the attack have noticeably diminished, the former much more so. There's actually a good-sized area that the dragon CAN'T drown in fire now, and Wen sees it, cartwheels himself into the open space rather than try to take the multi-blast head-on, and then does a backflip OVER the combined gouts of flame when the Gleeok sweeps them in his direction. The dragon tries to adjust for that as well, but the travel time of its attack is just slow enough for the Grandmaster's ki-boosted speed to stay ahead of the blast, and shortly thereafter, the fire gutters out, leaving a fresh, massive scorch mark and a few clinging wisps of flame and smoke atop the seared stone.

*Zip-POW*

And then Wen pulls off another flying kick, smashing straight into the Left Head. When the Middle-turned-Right Head tries to take advantage of his lack of footing to snap him out of the air, the Grandmaster meets the incoming fangs with a Ki Blast, pushing that Head back as well.

And then the cycle repeats. Wen truly has the monster's measure now, and the Gleeok is just getting angrier and more ineffective because of it. Before long, a second Head explodes away from the body-

"Now I'm REALLY mad!" the once-Middle Head declares furiously, as it assumes total control over its body.

Gained Draconic D (Plus)

-leaving the Gleeok in arguably its weakest and yet most dangerous state. Rage lends its fiery breath a measure of new strength, and with two flying Heads helping to set up a three-way crossfire, Wen actually takes a couple of hits.

"Oooh!" someone in the crowd hisses.

"It was just a graze!"

They're really getting into this now, aren't they?

Regardless, the Gleeok's last burst of effort is just that: its last. The Grandmaster may have taken those hits, but they weren't enough to stop him, or even do more than slow him down, and the next time he finds an opening on the Head still attached to the body-

"Wa-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-TA!"

-he goes all-out on the attack.

When the last Head blows away from the body, the dragon's corpse just keels over, all three Heads roaring in dismay as they fall out of the air.

And so, finally, still trailing smoke and with some fresh first and possibly second-degree burns, Wen advances to his penultimate Trial.

---

As the images within the viewing globe shift about, you wonder what the Grandmaster will face for his next-to-last Trial. It's a foregone conclusion that his opponent in the Ninth Trial will be himself, courtesy of the Mirror of Shadows, so this round will be the last time he faces a Hyrulean entity.

But what's left? A three-headed Gleeok isn't quite the peak of monstrous power in the kingdom, but it's not far off from it, either, so unless one of the Chosen three or a similar entity like that Vaati character shows up...

The globe clears, showing another of the temple arenas, this one not only in better shape than most, but sporting more elaborately designed and decorated architecture to begin with. The chamber is circular and features a domed roof, the stone pierced by elaborate stained glass windows that depict armored figures in the midst of feats of martial prowess and valor. Though the windows allow for considerable light, they are high enough up that torches have been added along the walls at regular intervals, to keep the room well-lit in its entirety. The floor is covered in sand, surrounded by seats-?

"Oh, hey," Briar comments. "An arena in the arena. Neat."

Yeah, that's what it is, although where your Ring is full of spectators, this one sits empty. Wen stands alone in the center of the chamber, looking straight at a barred portcullis at the back of the room, filling an archway that must be twenty feet across. As you watch, hidden mechanisms clank and groan and begin to lift the spiky barrier out of the way, maintaining a steady pace until the pointed tips have disappeared into the stonework, leaving the way open.

For a moment, nothing happens, but then there is a deep, rumbling growl in the dark, a sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

*Stomp-stomp,* something moves in the dark.

"Uh-oh," Briar says.

*Stomp-stomp*
*Stomp-stomp*

"Was... that a lion?" one of the masters ventures, his tone such that he's trying to sound hopeful, and rather failing at it.

*Stomp-stomp*
*Stomp-stomp*

"Not EXACTLY a lion," you reply, before the Grandmaster's next-to-last final foe begins to make its appearance, glowing golden eyes shining brightly in the shadows - and over ten feet off the ground.

Massive hooves stomp into view, along with a matching body that puts even Ganondorf's horse to shame. This is only half of the creature, however, and the lower half at that; where a horse's neck would begin, there is instead a muscular waist, which rises to a powerfully built humanoid torso, nearly as large as the equine part of the body. The resemblance to a classic centaur is thrown off by the great claw-tipped hands, the curving horns, and the menacing leonine features of the face, wreathed as they are in a great red mane that almost seems to burn.

The brute has to duck to clear the arch.

In one hand, the monster holds a massive cleaver of a sword, a blade almost as large as Wen's entire body, while on the other rests what looks like a cross between a giant buckler and a double-bladed axe-head. You can also make out a quiver strapped across its broad back, carrying a bow of similar proportions and probably a few trees' worth of arrows. Here and there, some small plates of armor have been attached to its body, almost as afterthoughts; you know the creature hardly needs them.

KING OF BEASTS: LYNEL

The Lynel advances steadily, never blinking or looking away from Wen as it closes the distance.

The burned and battered old man meets the look and returns it in kind.

"I do not suppose I could convince you to try a game of cards?" the Grandmaster muses.

The Lynel snorts, making its opinion of that offer clear.

"Fair enough."

And then the monster ROARS, and the battle commences.

---

The Lynel's roar is not just a declaration of challenge or intent, but an attack in and of itself; the air around the brute almost seems to ripple from the force behind the thunderous bellow, and sand from the arena's floor is sent flying away from the monster.

You know that it's not just physical force that's involved in the Lynel's deafening roar, and Wen must have sensed the build-up of the supernatural energies involved, because he dodges backwards fast enough to get himself out of the range where the attack is most effective before it reaches him. Fortunately, the ring-within-the Ring is large enough that the Grandmaster still has plenty of room to maneuver even after his evasion, because the Lynel follows up its opening move by charging forward, giant sword held low to its right and blade-bearing shield at a similar angle to its left. Together, the weapons swing forward and inwards like the world's biggest and most brutal pair of scissors, the air once again rippling around them and sand being thrown about by the force of their passage.

Wen leaps over the incoming sword, but perhaps not high enough, as you see him flinch in mid-air when his trajectory carries him through the edge of the "wake" of the Lynel's blade. His landing is consequently a touch less graceful than it should be, although that doesn't prevent him from ducking and rolling under the Lynel's follow-up backswing. In a blur of motion, the Grandmaster shoots back to his feet, spins about to face his opponent - who is already turning to face him straight-on - and leaps forward, fist extended-

*Pow*

"Ha-ow!"

-to deliver a punch to the leonine centaur's flank with a strange kiai, almost immediately after which he falls back, shaking his hand.

"What are you MADE out of?" Wen demands, glaring up at the Lynel with annoyance. "Unarmored flesh should NOT be that tough!"

The Lynel snorts again, fangs bared in an unmistakably smug grin.

"Oh, I see how it is-"

Wen stops mid-sentence to side-step an overhand swing of that crushing cleaver, and then jumps to avoid the follow-up from the shield-

!

-and also to land on TOP of the bladed disc, much to the surprise of its master-

*Pow!*

"HA!"

-whose upper body is rocked back by the whirling, visibly ki-charged aerial kick Wen used his temporary platform to deliver right to the Lynel's furry face. The monster is actually stunned by the strike, though whether that's in the physiological sense or merely shock that such a small and unarmed opponent could hit so hard, you aren't sure; regardless, Wen touches down - on the sand, the shield no longer being in a position to support him - and taking two flickering steps forward, fists also glowing with a more intense level of Ki Strike.

"Wa-ta-ta-"

!

The flurry is cut short as the Lynel recovers, roaring - thankfully not with that earlier supernatural force - and tries to crush the old man with a hilt-strike-

*Boom*

-which misses, but sends more sand flying, this time from the purely physical force of the impact. Wen disappears amid the sand-shower-

!

-and then reappears on the monster's BACK.

The Lynel promptly goes BERSERK, bucking like the enormous horse its lower half appears to be as it tries to buck its unwanted passenger. In this, it is thwarted by its own fabulous mane, which Wen uses to help anchor himself in place along with the grip his skinny legs are - barely - maintaining on the Lynel's massive flanks. This naturally leaves the Grandmaster with only one limb to do any actual attacking with, but he makes the most of it, driving another series of staccato punches into the back of the humanoid torso.

It takes you until the fourth such blow to realize that Wen isn't focusing his strikes on any one location, and is instead spreading them out. Considering that his very first hit WOULD have been a kidney shot on a human and yet didn't seem to do a thing to the Lynel, this makes sense; if the Grandmaster is going to hit this monster's weak-points, he kind of needs to know where they ARE.

Although he gets a few more hits in, Wen doesn't appear to find any specific vulnerabilities before he's once again interrupted, this time by the Lynel rolling onto one side and then onto its back, which understandably forces the Grandmaster to abandon his position. Wen lands easily from his jump, turns about to face his opponent once again.

The Lynel has only gotten as far as rolling into a kneeling stance, but this is enough for it to deliberately drag its sword through the sand and send a wall of the stuff spraying towards the Grandmaster. Wen shields his eyes and falls back in another blink, both opening up the range and giving the Lynel time to get back on its fe- er, hooves.

For a moment, two combatants merely regard each other from across the arena.

---

Wen breaks the staredown by backflipping into the air, over the edge of the arena, and into the stands, where he ducks out of sight behind the wall that shields the lowest ring of the seats from the fighting pit.

The Lynel growls slightly, plants its sword in the sand, and quickly pulls its bow and an arrow from the quiver on its back. Falling back a couple of strides, the monster draws and holds its shot, ears visibly shifting as it seeks some hint of its quarry-

!

-and then it fires a shot into the air with just enough force that it almost touches the high ceiling before angling down towards the stands. Two more such shots follow in rapid sequence, and a fourth bolt has just been fitted to the bowstring when there is a startled yelp from among the seats.

Wen springs into view, his posture such that you are unsure if he was walking around in a squat or going on all fours; either way, he sensed the first arrow in time to not get hit-

*Boom!*

-and even to evade the energetic discharge when the arrow explodes in flames. The first of the follow-up shots is more easily avoided-

*Whoosh*

-though the fourth bolt, aimed straight at the Grandmaster, seems guaranteed to hit home-

!

-until Wen reaches out, seizes the spear-sized shaft with both hands, and spins about a couple of times, bleeding momentum as he snatches the arrow out of the air, being VERY careful to keep its tip from hitting anything.

Already drawing a fifth arrow, the Lynel stops and stares blankly at this feat-

"Hup!"

*Whoosh*
*Boom!*

-and makes no effort to move when the Grandmaster flings the stolen projectile back at him with perfect spear-throwing form.

Wen absently dodges the third falling arrow-

*Boom!*

-and hops atop the dividing wall as he waits for the smoke in the ring to clear-

*Whoosh*
*Boom!*

-only to have to dodge again as the fifth arrow shoots from the cloud.

"Good accuracy," Wen concedes, as the Lynel emerges from the smoke. "Aaaand not so much as a burnt hair on you," he adds, frowning at the quite un-scorched monster.

The Lynel shakes its head, mane rippling, once again radiating a sense of smug superiority.

The Grandmaster's frown deepens. "Word of warning: one who flaunts such an admittedly glorious head of hair before a man stricken bald before his time is just ASKING for a retributive shave."

That statement prompts a rumble of ominous agreement from more than a few seats in the Ring.

The Lynel, for its part, just bares its fangs in a taunting leer-

*Fwoosh!*

-or maybe that was just it preparing to spit a fireball at Wen.

Or both.

Both seems like it would be suitably evil.

---

Wen evades the Lynel's fireball-breath easily enough, cartwheeling to his right along the rim of the arena, and when the blast slams into the stone seats behind the spot where the Grandmaster was standing a moment earlier, it proves not to be the explosive sort of Fireball, instead just washing over the point of impact and its immediate surroundings.

Even as the flaming attack flies, the Lynel draws a fresh arrow - the one it was holding when the Grandmaster chucked the other explosive arrow back at its shooter having gone up in smoke - and takes aim at Wen.

The Grandmaster returns the favor, extending one hand while inverted and in mid-air-

"No."

-and snatching the Lynel's arrow away from paw and bowstring from a good thirty feet away.

The monster does a double-take as its projectile seemingly teleports to its opponent's hand, but then swiftly draws another arrow-

"Still no."

-and then hurries to nock a third, eyes gleaming with triumph now that both of Wen's hands are occupied-

"And again, no."

-only to growl in frustration as the Grandmaster calmly drops the first arrow to free up the hand needed to snatch the third. With ranged attacks apparently denied, the Lynel puts away its bow and picks up its sword again-

!

-and begins charging up a Sword Beam as it raises the weapon over its head with both clawed hands.

Whatever his lack of familiarity with facing Hyrulean monsters, Wen HAS seen this technique used more than often enough to have a good idea of what he's about to receive. Tossing aside the arrows in his hands, Wen prepares himself to dodge the blast-

!

-and then it is the Grandmaster's turn to start with surprise, as whether due to the sheer size of its blade, the intensity of its own power, or an advanced application of the technique, the Lynel's swing unleashes not a bolt of force, but a ragged WAVE that expands outward as it moves forward.

You might have expected Wen to duck behind the wall of the stands for some cover, but instead, he somersaults FORWARD, off the wall and back into the arena, just passing under the oncoming "Sword Wave"-

!

-which smashes into the side of the ring with brutal force, shattering the stone and causing some of it to cave in.

Okay, so hiding would not have been the best move. Good call there, Wen, but what will you do about the Lynel that's charging at you now?

*Blink*

Ah, Body Flicker at the last moment. A fine choice, although the Lynel isn't surprised enough by the abrupt disappearing act to charge straight into the broken wall. Instead, as its sword and bladed shield both slash through empty space where its quarry was standing, the Lynel is already sliding to a halt and looking about, ears raised for the slightest sound of footsteps or breathing.

Then the monster's eyes widen, and it looks UP-

!

-just in time to receive a Meteor Kick to the face. THIS legitimately staggers the beast, and as its six-limbed form crashes to the arena sands with a roar of pained protest, Wen kicks off of its head and into a tight backflip, making his own, much neater landing before charging in and proceeding to wail on the nearest of the Lynel's equine flanks.

"Did the Grandmaster jump into the air just now, or did he run up the wall again?" you ask your teacher.

"From what I saw before the 'camera' lost track of him, it was likely a bit of both," Lu-sensei replies. "He definitely used a Flicker-assisted jump to get out of the pit and up into the stands again, with the correct force and angle to get him next to the chamber wall, and from there, a straight run up the wall until he was high enough to leap off into the Meteor Kick."

You nod at that, attention still on the fight.

As fast as Wen's strikes are, he's still working against uncertainly about the Lynel's biology, as well as the sheer toughness of the beast. After several probing strikes on the ribs and stomach fail to yield a significant result, the Grandmaster turns to one of the legs, no doubt hoping to strain or even break it to hinder the monster's mobility and stance. He gets in two shots before the Lynel slams the hilt of its sword down where Wen was, signaling its recovery.

When it stands up a moment later, there's no sign of difficulty.

---

By this point, the strengths and limitations of the two combatants are quite clear. Wen leads in mobility - be it in terms of pure speed or where he can use that speed to go - and technique, while the Lynel's advantages in durability and raw force are unquestionable. Both fighters are about even when it comes to range, the Lynel likely having the firepower to finish the fight if it wasn't having such an actually HITTING its target, whereas the Grandmaster is hampered by the fact that most of the ranged techniques he's used throughout his Trials are unlikely to accomplish anything against such a resilient foe.

Granted, you haven't seen him use a full-on Ki Beam yet, but after the Lynel basically ignored the explosion of one of its own arrows, Wen might be concerned that it's similarly resistant to other unfriendly applications of direct energy.

...which could explain why his Ki Strikes are having such a hard time hurting the monster, now that you think about it. Without a bladed weapon of some sort to cut through the Lynel's thick hide and expose the genuinely vulnerable bits underneath, Wen has to push at least some of his ki into and THROUGH the brute's skin to accomplish a similar result. If the Lynel really does have a general form of energy resistance, that would be... okay, that would practically be cheating, but it would also help to explain why it's been practically shrugging off all those hits.

Not that its sheer size alone wouldn't be an issue, there.

While you're pondering that possibility, Wen has backed off from his recovering foe and taken a stance that is unfamiliar to you. It's definitely part of the Five Elements Style, but you've never seen Lu-sensei use it, nor does it match any of the depictions of various techniques that you've read about.

"Watch this next one closely, kids," Wen advises.

From the excited exclamations coming from most of the masters, and the way Lu-sensei just jolted upright in his seat, the move is not a mystery to them.

"That looks like-!"

"It is!"

"It can't be!"

"That move was lost with Master Bai!"

"Fools! Do you still deny the truth!?"

Any further remarks are cut short as Wen exclaims, "Pendulum Strike!"

And then he rushes towards the Lynel - while at the same moment, remaining exactly where he was.

What the hell!?

Huh.

You have to blink to make sure you aren't suddenly seeing double - or make that triple, as a second Wen is now blurring into existence and rushing forth from the original, or at least what you THINK is the original. Unlike with the Doppelganger technique, which can be seen through or sensed as a projection of ki, these copies of Wen seem entirely real, at least as far as you can tell through the medium of the viewing globe.

And now there are FOUR Wens in the arena, three of them charging at the Lynel-

Most creatures, upon seeing this many master-level fighters appear out of nowhere and rush at them, would have the decency to look a little worried. The Lynel? Is GRINNING.

-while the fourth continues to hold his position, as if channeling the energy necessary to maintain the technique, or...

The Lynel's blade lashes out in a low, lateral cut, missing the first Wen, who leaps over it-

*Pow!*

-only to be smashed out of the air and entirely out of existence by a follow-up blow from the monster's shield-arm.

Wen Number Two rushes into the opening in a flying kick, aimed at and connecting with the Lynel's left foreleg. The beast snarls at the hit and lowers its shield, half in an attempt to crush that copy of the Grandmaster and half to cover the leg from follow-up strikes.

That doesn't appear to have been Wen's plan, however, as his third duplicate leaps into the air with a flying kick that takes the Lynel right in its feline face, stunning it less than the Meteor Kick did earlier, but still enough to momentarily disorient the monster and give the Fourth Wen room to hop onto the Third's shoulders, leapfrog into the air, and come down right on top of the Lynel's skull. The force of the short range descending kick once again fails to match up - call it a "Meteorite" Kick, maybe? - but two stunning blows to the same part of the body in quick succession seem to have a more pronounced effect, as the Lynel is once again staggered.

And then comes Wen the Fifth - or maybe the First? - leaping up to meet the Lynel's descending chin with a rising uppercut that fairly burns with focused ki.

*Pow!*

And down the beast goes for the second time.

Three of the remaining Wens, including the "last" one, vanish in strange blurs of warping continuum, while Number Four lands on the beast's back and rides it to the ground, already beginning another series of high-speed strikes before the arena sands have been kicked up from the crash.

---

"Did he seriously just warp TIME in order to hit the Lynel a lot more, Sensei?" you ask.

"He did," your master replies, "although as I understand it, simply being able to attack more often in a set span of time isn't the extent of the technique."

You nod, because you did see how the Lynel spent a big portion of its offense taking down the first temporal clone, to no apparent effect on Wen himself, unless it was the loss of whatever energy was invested in that copy. Combine that with how the Fourth Wen was evidently the REAL Grandmaster the entire time - or maybe with the true Wen being able to relocate himself to the position of any of his surviving copies at the conclusion of the maneuver - and there would be tactical applications beyond just "hit more."

Confusing the enemy, repositioning one's self, potentially negating injuries - yes, it's definitely more than just an offensive move.

"So why is it called 'Pendulum Strike'?" you follow up. "Because of the 'first I'm over here, then I'm over there, now I'm back over here' aspect?"

"That is supposedly part of it, but there's also the fact that if you do it right, you can move your target back and forth a bit like a pendulum themselves. The Lynel's too big for the full effect, but consider how its head rocked in response to the Grandmaster's strikes..."

...
...

"So, when do I get to learn the move?" you ask cheekily.

"Assuming that the Grandmaster agrees to teach it, not for the better part of a decade, at least," Lu-sensei replies firmly.

You can't quite contain the flinch. "S-so long, Sensei?"

"As you may have overheard, it's considered a lost technique of the School. The last master who could perform it died under mysterious circumstances most of a century ago, after failing to teach it to two different students. The first of those made a mistake during his training that left him crippled, while the second ALSO disappeared without a trace - supposedly, right in the middle of an attempt."

...

Um.

"...does stuff that happen often in the higher levels of the style, Lu-sensei?" you ask carefully.

"Not with the MODERN curriculum," your master assures you. "We've had a long time to refine both the moves and the training methods for those techniques. But lost and forbidden skills like the Pendulum Strike, the Time Slice, the Fifth Surprise... there are stories about what can go wrong with those when they're employed improperly."

He does not elaborate on what such stories involve, but his tone is grim.

Considering some of the warnings Batreaux passed on while teaching you the Spell of Time Stop and other high-end magics focused on the manipulation of space-time, you don't have to stretch your imagination to wonder what ki techniques with a malfunctioning temporal aspect might result in.

"Quite aside from that," Lu-sensei goes on, "I would be a poor master if I submitted a student for a training regimen I know nothing about myself, no matter who was overseeing it."

"And you also want to learn how to hit people five different ways at once," Briar adds.

"And I also want to learn how hit people five different ways at once," Lu-sensei agrees easily, nodding.

Okay, yeah, that's entirely fair.

---

It's true that, when you picture an enemy getting knocked around between two other combatants, the first image that comes to mind is more like a game of Dead Man's Volley, with the unfortunate "ball" being sent flying through the air between the competitors - most likely you and Shadow Alex, or maybe you and Briar, if you found an enemy that she disliked enough - rather than the target standing in one place and being rocked back and forth like Lu-sensei is describing.

But it isn't difficult to picture.

While you've been discussing the (somewhat hazardous) lost technique of the Five Elements Style, Grandmaster Wen has delivered another series of strikes to the Lynel's humanoid torso while riding on its equine back, subsequently been forcibly dismounted - to no real injury - and then pushed into backflipping away from his opponent as the furious monster breathes a continuous cone of fire straight down, causing the flames to spread out around it in all directions.

Based on his earlier responses to fire attacks, particularly the Gleeok's, Wen probably could have danced his way through this one as well. That he chose not to do so suggests he might be getting weary enough of being singed and scalded to not want to add to his injuries if he can help it, or maybe that he's got something else in mind-

!

-and sure enough, while the Lynel is surrounding itself with a small vision of various Hell-dimensions, Wen adopts the Pendulum Strike stance for a second time.

"Here it comes again-!"

"I'll get it this time!"

"Don't you DARE attempt that move after just seeing it twice!"

You try to ignore the sidelong glance Lu-sensei directs at you after that remark.

The moment the Lynel stops spewing scorching death everywhere, it's greeted by another incoming group of Wens. Though denied a chance to prepare itself while the Grandmaster was charging up, the leonine brute does have the advantage of having faced the technique once already, and adjusts its defenses to try and compensate.

*Slash-poof!*

When it cuts the first of the Grandmaster's temporal copies from the air, the Lynel does so with a shorter, tighter slash, which allows it to maneuver its ridiculously heavy blade into the path of the second oncoming clone-

*Wham*

-if not at the most lethal angle. Wen Number Two is sent staggering back from his collision with the flat of the sword, and you note with some interest that he doesn't discorporate the way the "dead" clones did.

The Lynel even manages to get its shield in the way of the Third Wen, and at an angle that stops him from simply jumping up onto the weapon and running along the limb, thereby demonstrating perhaps the greatest threat that this breed of monsters poses to Hyrule: their capacity to learn.

But if his attack has been stymied, Third Wen simply adapts to do the best he can to inconvenience his enemy. This results in him grabbing the bluntest part of the shield he can find and using a combination of body weight, grappling technique, and ki-boosted strength and footing to drag it and the arm behind it down.

With the shield momentarily locked into place and the sword already in a poor position, Wen the Fourth is able to use his immediate predecessor as a ramp-

"Hey!"

"Sorry, not sorry!"

-to run up onto and along the Lynel's arm, going for another shot at its head-

*Snap!*

-which is almost thwarted when the beast tries to bite him. Wen manages to avoid the attack, but in doing so, he loses some of the momentum of his charge, meaning his follow-up attack is less effective than it could have been.

As for the Final Wen, he frowns at the general loss of effectiveness in his special technique, and then shrugs and charges forward-

!

-ducking underneath the Lynel's body while it's distracted trying to take a bite out of Fourth Wen, skidding to a halt, and launching a double-palm strike straight up into the belly of the beast.

The Lynel roars - in pain, or just in frustration - and takes the simplest approach to dealing with an enemy in such an awkward position.

*Slam-poof*

Which is to simply drop its weight on him.

"Rude," Third and now Only Wen remarks from where he still stands on the monster's massive shoulder.

Then he kicks it in the face again.

---

It takes only a moment for the Lynel to recover from the latest assault on its face, and rather than try to bite or spit fire at Wen in retaliation, the monster lets out another of those shattering roars.

Wen once again Flickers away ahead of the shockwave, but when he blurs back into plain sight a moment later and some forty feet away, it's with a slight stumble, a cautious flexing of an apparently pained right hand, and the other hand reaching awkwardly across his body to cover the ear on that side and do something that's clearly Ki Healing.

"Also, loud," the Grandmaster mutters, as he either speeds up his recovery from temporary deafening or else repairs potentially more serious damage.

And then he has to forestall the effort when the Lynel charges up another oversized Sword Beam.

The fight doesn't exactly repeat itself from there, as both competitors are too skilled and disciplined to make the mistake that the Gleeok did, of falling into a predictable pattern of attacks, and moreover have clearly been taking mental notes on their enemy's techniques and thinking up ways to avoid or counter them. Still, if the instruments are different, the tune is still the same: the Lynel tries to crush Wen while keeping its guard up; Wen tries not to get crushed while seeking openings; and when the Grandmaster succeeds in breaking through the Beast-King's guard - which happens more often as the fight progresses - he either looks for and subsequently focuses his attention on weak spots, or just hits the Lynel in the head as hard as he can.

Three, four, five times they do this dance, and the Lynel just will not. Go. DOWN.

"What does it take to beat this thing?" somebody demands.

"A holy sword, usually," you reply.

"...did the Grandmaster ever...?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Hey, Lu! How about giving him a loaner?"

"Three problems with that, Tiang. First, it would be cheating. Second, the Jade Dragon is not a holy weapon. And third, one does not 'loan out' one's sworn responsibilities, not even to a Grandmaster!"

Speaking of swords, while Wen doesn't pull out a Chinese equivalent to the Master Sword or anything like that, he does eventually get sufficiently fed up with having to deal with the Lynel's weapon and shield to take more direct action.

*Clang*

At first, the Lynel doesn't appear to realize what's going on.

*Bang*

Certainly, the timing of the series of blows Wen delivers to the Lynel's shield is such that it honestly looks like the monster got it defense into place to intercept an attack meant for its flesh, rather than something that was intended for the bladed steel disc in the first place.

*Spang*

But when the Grandmaster takes a few shots at the Lynel's sword, that gets the monster confused, and then thinking-

*Crack!*

-and then roaring in dismay as the first sign of real damage in this Trial is at long last delivered. The Lynel's sword doesn't break in two or anything so dramatic, but now that it's been damaged enough to have a crack in it, using it full-force is just going to accelerate its breakdown - and that's assuming Wen leaves it alone, which he clearly doesn't intend to.

The Lynel takes that into account, looking back and forth between its compromised weapon and the Grandmaster.

Then, snarling in true anger, the monster charges up another Sword Beam-

*Screeee!*

"Ugh, what's with that sound?"

"Uh-oh."

-raises its shivering, shrieking sword high with both hands as it charges Wen's current position-

The Grandmaster counter-charges!

-and then brings the weapon down with such force, that-

*BANG!*

-it goes off like a Bomb, sending steely shrapnel flying in every direction.

The Lynel itself picks up a few scratches and puncture wounds from the attack, which also leaves it holding a hilt with only a jagged third of the blade still attached.

Wen gets out mostly unscathed-

"Ah," the man hisses, as he pulls a shard of metal from his right shoulder.

-but not entirely.

---

Despite having been standing at point-blank range of the exploding sword and consequently eaten the (ahem) lion's share of the shrapnel, the accumulated damage the Lynel just absorbed doesn't seem to bother it as much as that one penetrating fragment does Wen. As soon as the glare and ringing of the blast have cleared, the monster charges at the Grandmaster, brandishing its axe-bladed shield and not even pausing to brush away the bloodstained fragments that glitter ominously from its chest and forelegs.

Wen tosses aside the bloody shard he pulled out of his back and disappears in another Flicker just as the shield comes down where he had been standing.

After a moment passes without him reappearing, the Lynel quickly looks up-

"Meteor Shower Kick!"

-and flinches when it sees five Wens coming down at it from different angles and heights.

Up comes the ruined sword to intercept the First Wen, who once again vanishes with a twist of space-time.

Up comes the shield, blocking a kick-

"Ha!"

-only for the Second Wen to springboard off the upraised limb, regaining some height with which to build momentum for a weaker, more sidelong kick.

Third Wen comes down, not on the Lynel's head, but on its equine back, and with force enough that you see the spine bend and the powerful legs bend at the knees, while the beast roars in pain.

This is enough for the Fourth Wen to connect with the Lynel's head from above, just as the Second Wen does so from the side.

Staggered once more, the monster tumbles, and so is in no position to defend itself as the Final Wen finishes his descent and hits it in the side full-force, causing something in that powerful flank to shift and crack.

The Lynel doesn't spit blood when it roars again, but it takes a lot longer for it to recover from this fall than the previous ones. This would be more favorable to the Grandmaster if his right arm weren't injured - not that the wound prevents him from wailing on the downed beast with his left arm and a couple of additional grounded kicks, but it still adds up to a smaller number of blows than you know he'd normally be capable of.

When the Lynel recovers from its daze enough to swat at Wen and force him to give up on the attack, you note that the big beast is moving much more gingerly than before. Wen's rib-cracking kick may not have pierced a lung or anything so immediately deadly, but it definitely hurt his opponent, and the pain seems to flare up when the Lynel takes a step, making its previous disadvantage in speed all the worse and robbing it of the ability to charge at its foe, besides.

Factor in the destruction of the Lynel's sword and its demonstrated difficulties in hitting the Grandmaster with its arrows or fireballs, and it would seem that Wen now thoroughly controls the range of the fight.

He puts that to use by falling back to the far side of the arena, focusing ki to his bleeding back, and spending a short time ducking, dodging, and just staying well ahead of oversized arrows and fireballs while his wound stabilizes. You don't know nearly enough about ki-based healing techniques to say how they compare to the other supernatural methods you have available, but if nothing else, they must work well enough to allow the recipient to continue to fight - why would the Grandmaster bother, otherwise?

Perhaps twenty seconds later - and also close to a dozen arrows and a couple blasts of flame as well - Wen's stance and ki flows change, and he takes just a moment to experimentally shift his shoulder, before sighing with relief.

"Now, then," he says, assuming a more aggressive posture. "Where were we?"

The Lynel rumbles, putting its bow up again, and not bothering to retrieve its broken blade from where it lies, discarded, among the sands of the arena.

"Ah, yes. I believe I was about to kick your fuzzy butt."

The Lynel bares its fangs and brandishes its claws, as if inviting the attempt.

Wen obliges.

---

Without its sword, the Lynel's reach has been halved - at least! - but its unencumbered hand proves able to move, strike, and recover faster now that it's not weighed down by all that metal. Not only that, but the beast can actually GRAB things now-

*Yoink!*

-a trick it demonstrates-

*Un-yoink!*

-to Wen's extremely brief disadvantage, and its own subsequent growling protest.

"You are not the first giant to try and seize me!" Wen advises his opponent, as he punches it in the head with both hands. "Not by a long shot!"

After recovering from that tactical error, the Lynel reveals another new trick, channeling energy to its splayed claws-

*Slash!*

-and delivering a five-fold series of slashes with a single sweep of its arm. While much smaller than the Sword Waves it was throwing around with its sword, these "Claw Beams" are not without their own advantages, such as how they hit in the same general area as one another, but from slightly different angles and along more erratic paths, making them harder to deflect or dodge.

Wen avoids the brunt of the attack, but does get clipped by at least one of the cutting lines.

He responds to that by reaching across space and breaking a couple of the Lynel's powerful fingers.

The whole business of "rhyming without repeating" that you observed before is once again in play, but the pace has picked up considerably, the Lynel's accumulated injuries and equipment damage dragging down its performance and giving Wen more and more opportunities to attack the weak points his early efforts identified, worsening the monster's condition and further accelerating the cycle.

It's slow, bitter, and a bit painful to see, but surely, inevitably, the Lynel will lose-

*ROAR!*

-its temper and go on the offensive, ignoring the pain of its injuries and undoubtedly making them worse, in a last-ditch attempt to take its opponent down.

"It is time," Wen declares, taking another stance.

"Can it be!?"

"Can it not!?"

"Finishing Move," the Grandmaster states, as his aura burns into view around him. "Broken Clock!"

And for an instant, within the ring within the Ring, Time seems to stop - or perhaps more accurately, fracture.

Oh, dear.

The Lynel freezes in mid-charge.

Multiple Wens appear, surrounding the monster from a dozen different directions, and one by one, rush or leap or fall or simply STRIKE forward, whether with fists, feet, or free-flying energy.

Each attack connects with the sound of something cracking, and for the briefest instant, the Lynel MOVES, registering the attack and the damage, only to go still before it can react further.

Each Wen disappears as his portion of the technique is performed, until at last only the original, standing in what you mentally label the twelve o'clock position, remains. Instead of running forward, he walks up to his enemy, visibly measures the Lynel for a moment, and reaches out-

*Poke*

-to give the monster the slightest push.

With a sound like shattering glass, Time resumes, and the Lynel flinches in half a dozen directions at once, before letting out a low moan and collapsing to the sandy floor.

Wen regards his opponent carefully-

*Poof*

-until it finally, FINALLY gives up and dies.

Then he looks to the ceiling. "Too much?"

A bit, yes.

"Ah. Well, then; I shall endeavor to refine my technique further."

Wait, he can hear-?

Must you?

"One must never stop learning."

And the Trial ends.

---

For his Final Trial, Wen is transported to the expected chambers of Sage Elfaron, who regards the Grandmaster with an expression of wide-eyed astonishment that is apparent even through his bushy beard and eyebrows.

"What is it?" Wen asks.

"You defeated a Lynel," the Sage says slowly. "Entirely by yourself, at that, and furthermore, you did it with your bare hands."

"And my shod feet."

"...and those, yes. And your techniques, of course."

"Of course."

There is a pause.

"I take it this doesn't happen a lot, where you come from?" Wen inquires.

"It does not," the Hylian confirms. "Usually, the suppression of a Lynel requires a military operation, with several of the realm's best knights working together with magical support, both arcane and divine, and they don't always succeed - and even when they do, it's never without casualties. Few people have ever fought a Lynel one-on-one and lived to tell of it, much less defeated the beast."

"And they used weapons, armor, and the whole warrior panoply," Wen guesses.

"Almost to a man." The Sage pauses, frowning into memory. "I do recall hearing of some Goron champions that fought Lynels unarmed, but, well, Gorons."

Heh. Yeah, you could see Bando attempting such a challenge, although with all due respect to your brother-in-battle and his help against Searfang, you think you'd be betting on the Lynel in that contest.

You notice a number of people in the audience looking in Elder Terok's direction at that remark.

The old priest of Din huffs in grumpy amusement, but offers no comment.

"Well, then," Elfaron declares, straightening up as much as his age and diminishment will allow. "Welcome to your Ninth Trial. As you've seen others undertake this test, I'm sure you already understand what's involved."

Wen nods. "I have a pretty good idea, yes."

"In that case, are you prepared to begin?"

The Grandmaster considers. "I don't suppose I could have a few minutes to meditate and recover...?"

"In fact, you could," the Sage replies. "With the understanding that your Shadow-self would also be benefitting from the recovery."

Wen hums wordlessly as he considers that.

It is a bit of a conundrum, isn't it? Go in now, battered and tired from eight Trials - especially that last one - and face an opponent in similar condition, or rest up as much as possible, and face an equally refreshed opponent.

For your part, you'd probably forge ahead immediately, because you usually have a restorative or two in your pocket, and the contents of your extradimensional storage space aren't copied by the Mirror of Shadow. Consequently, Shadow Alex would come out injured, and you'd have an opportunity to heal yourself that he wouldn't be able to replicate without burning mana.

Wen doesn't have any such stash of equipment that you're aware of, so he's stuck taking the bad along with the good, regardless of what he decides to do.

In the end, the Grandmaster asks for a few minutes to rest, takes a seat on the floor, and closes his eyes. The image in the globe skips ahead by an uncertain span of time, returning to normal as the Grandmaster stands up, his movements a bit easier and his ki signature brighter than it was just moments earlier from your perspective.

"Accelerated ki recovery?" you ask Lu-sensei.

"More tapping into deep reserves," your master clarifies. With a firm warning note, he adds, "NOT something to be done lightly or often, and preferably never at your age."

"Another of those things that could mess up my development, huh?"

"Indeed."

Well, then. A shame, but you would rather not stunt your growth, be it physical, mental, or spiritual, or any mix of the three.

Once Wen is prepared, Sage Elfaron raises the Mirror. "Shadow, reflect!"

Wen actually snaps into a defensive stance as the Shadow-energy washes over him, before catching himself.

"A touch more unpleasant than you were expecting?" Elfaron guesses.

"In a word, yes. Will that affect the outcome?"

"In my experience, no. Now, then - Shadow, show!"

And then there is a second, darker Wen in the room.

FACING THE MIRROR: SHADOW WEN

Shadow Wen looks at his Original.

Original Wen looks back at his Shadow.

As one, they grin, raise their hands, point at one another, and declare, ""I challenge you to Shoushiling!""

...

"The Three Who Are Afraid of Each Other?" Did your Tongues Spell translate that right?

And then the two Grandmasters start playing what appears to be a version of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

"...what," Sage Elfaron says.

---

""Best of three? Of course."" The Grandmasters say in unison, before raising their right arms, pumping them three times, and then declaring: ""Toad! Blast!""

...are they kidding?

They redo the draw. ""Toad! Will you stop that!?""

They're... they're not even using ki, they're just making hand-signs like a couple of kids on the playground!

The third attempt sees Wen going for a "Snake," while his Shadow pulls out a "Slug."

"Ah-ha!"

"Point to you."

Okay, for a minute there, you'd wondered if they were going to keep mirroring and echoing each other - but that's not the point!

In their second round, Wen's Toad beats his Shadow's Slug, with no draws.

Then they fire off no less than five draws in rapid succession, Toad to Snake to Snake to Slug to Toad, before Wen throws out a Snake to his Shadow's Toad.

"Ha-ha!"

Shadow Wen doesn't seem disappointed by his loss. In fact, he almost looks happy.

"What was that?" Sage Elfaron asks in bafflement from the sidelines.

"I have spent the last thousand years among souls who insist on turning every last interpersonal interaction with so much as a hint of a competitive element to them into a display of martial or spiritual prowess," Wen explains with a sigh. "And while I do not exactly object to the opportunities to test and improve myself, sometimes a man just wants to have a little harmless fun, you know? I think the last time I got to play a game that didn't devolve into a game of showmanship or an outright battle was... eighty years ago?"

His Shadow nods. "Sounds about right."

"...I see," the Sage replies. "Out of curiosity, what would one of your 'normal' games have looked like?"

The Wens trade glances, shrug, and then raise their hands again-

!

-before suddenly throwing so many different hands that you almost can't keep track of them. It doesn't help that you're unfamiliar with the exact signs for this undoubtedly thousand-year-old version of Rock-Paper-Scissors...

"Something like that," Wen states, holding a Toad to his Shadow's Snake.

"Or like TOAD KICK!" the Shadow declares suddenly, jump-kicking at his Original.

"SNAKE COIL!" Wen responds, leaning back and twisting slightly to evade the high kick and come up underneath his still-aerial opponent with a two-handed strike.

"SLUG FOOT!"

"So you ARE going to fight after all," Elfaron says, sighing with relief even as the two Grandmasters rapidly accelerate in their mutual aggression. "For a minute there, I was wondering..."

---

The battle between the Wens starts off at a pace not dissimilar to the previous Trial's fight with the Lynel, but it soon accelerates to the point where both fighters are just man-like blurs of motion, fists, feet, and their attached limbs and torsos flying about as blows are exchanged and advantages sought, gained, lost, and recovered.

You're not going to lie, you're a little surprised when you realize that you're able to keep track of as much as you are. While you're quite certain that there's plenty going on which you either aren't seeing or just can't understand yet, the fact that you can actually SEE the men behind the movements, as well as grasp some of the intent of said techniques, is significant.

Even if you can't see how the Wens are manipulating their ki to move THIS fast, this consistently, just getting a look at what is without question the epitome of your school's version of high-speed combat is instructive all by itself.

Gained Battle Awareness B (Plus)
Gained Body Flicker A (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Ki Enhancement A (Plus) (Plus)

The initial calling of attacks quickly drops off, no doubt in part for tactical reasons, but probably mainly because the Wens are just going too fast to get a word out before they're interrupted or have pulled out a different move.

"Who do we cheer for?"

"They're the same person, right?"

You glance in Shadow Alex's direction, wondering how he'd take that remark, but your Dark Self is either too far away to have heard the remark, or just doesn't care to respond.

Regardless, the audience soon reaches a consensus to just cheer for Wen, because it'll be valid no matter which fighter wins.

There's a marked absence of energy blasts, external temporal manipulation, or attempts to open up distance going on in this bout, with the Grandmaster and his Shadow instead focusing heavily on strikes and grapples. Considering the sheer speed at which the pair are going at it, the lack of ranged attacks makes sense, and it also explains why neither man is trying to make some space - for what would be the point of getting his opponent out of his face, when they'd be right back in it within a second, or worse, have that brief moment in which the pressure was lifted to pull out a different technique of their own?

Perhaps that's also why there's no further time-bending shenanigans like the Pendulum Strike or the Broken Clock being pulled out. Both moves took some prep-time even for Wen, and against an opponent who can match him speed for speed, strength for strength, and skill for skill, even a fraction of a second not spent on suppressing the other guy is a considerable risk.

Thinking on it, that particular danger may actually be even worse for the Grandmaster than it was for you when you faced your own Shadow, because you had - and still have - enough unaddressed personal issues that your dark doppelganger manifests as a different version of you. More than his darkened appearance, Shadow Alex behaves slightly differently than you do - at least on most days - and that leads to some changes in how he fights, especially when it's against you.

Shadow Wen, on the other hand, came out mimicking his Original word-for-word and gesture-for-gesture, and kept it up for a while. There's still some divergence there, but it would seem that after a thousand years of ascended existence, Wen is a lot more in touch with his repressed side and has worked out a lot more of his issues than you have. Shadow Wen is much, much closer to being an exact copy of his progenitor as a result, and that in turn means the two of them are pretty much on the same wavelength as far as fighting goes.

"Facing the Mirror," indeed.

---

"...is there not a skill for high-speed conversation, Sensei?"

"No," your master replies promptly. "Well, sort of," he then amends. "Once you develop a certain level of awareness for ki, body language, and other such tells, you can glean a great deal of information about someone's general attitude and thoughts, especially in a fight, where distractions need to be set aside to focus on the contest and the pursuit of victory."

You have noticed something of that, thanks to your own sensory awareness, although since you haven't exactly made a study of the practice, the results have always been fairly vague.

Still... "I was thinking more of with actual words, sir."

"I know, and to the best of my knowledge, no, no one has ever really bothered. The general thinking, after all, is that if you have the breath and the brainpower to spare to talk during a serious fight, you should be using them for something else. And spending precious ki to get in a few more words is not likely to be all that productive, compared to having some other Ki Enhancement technique running."

True enough. Oh, you can certainly see applications for mundane speech in the middle of combat - instructing or warning allies, threatening enemies, telling innocent bystanders to get out of the way, already... - and then there are more exotic uses like spellcasting and your Words of Power. But outside of those particular examples, you'd be better served keeping your mouth shut. So to speak.

...or, not.

The fight continues apace, ten seconds passing as if in a heartbeat, then twenty, forty-

!

-and somewhere just shy of the one-minute mark, Wen makes a mistake.

You... aren't quite sure WHICH of him it is, though.

At first glance, it seems to be Shadow Wen placing a foot wrong, weakening his stance so that the next time the Original slams a blow into his otherwise superb guard, the momentum rocks the Dark Self back farther than it should have, throwing off his rhythm and giving the Grandmaster an opening.

Yet as Wen exploits that weakness, forcing the gap in his Shadow's defenses wider and delivering what promises to be a clean hit to his midsection, his opponent deflects the incoming arm and takes a sudden step forward into the arc of Wen's arm, until the two of them have practically collided. What momentarily looks like a couple of guys hugging it out swiftly turns into a hip toss, sending Wen towards the floor with his Shadow already moving to restrain him-

!

-but as he descends, you can see that the Grandmaster's ki is already moving to not only help him absorb the force of the impact, but redirect it. What began as the Shadow's throw and attempted pin turns into both men rolling on the floor for a moment, before the darker of the pair goes flying, literally kicked off by his counterpart.

And despite finding himself abruptly airborne, Shadow Wen is already forming a Ki Shot - no, from the number of projectiles that erupt from his outstretched palm a moment later, it has to be a more advanced technique, one that goes for suppression through sheer volume of fire.

It's met by a singular Ki Blast coming back the other way, which blows through every smaller Shot-like projectile that crosses its path, homes straight in on the Shadow-

!

-is CAUGHT and redirected, are you about to see a ki-based version of Dead Ma-

!

-nno, you're not. Whether because he doesn't have the skill to pull a "return to sender" on Ki Blasts, because this particular Blast was too strong for him, or because he just didn't want to both, Shadow Wen just diverted the beam of energy off to his left at a shallow angle. Far enough to miss his body, but close enough that his sleeve and the rest of his shirt ripple in its passage.

---

You can wonder about "ki deflection," or whatever that was, some other time; right now, there's a fight on!

Even as Shadow Wen pushes the Ki Blast aside, the Original Wen comes charging through the gap his attack made in the cloud of lesser projectiles being spammed by his counterpart. He isn't moving at Flicker speeds, only at the lesser (but still considerable) pace allowed by Ki Enhancement, so his Shadow isn't exactly taken by surprise by the attack; that said, with his energies having just been exerted to redirect that Ki Blast, Shadow Wen does find himself caught in that moment of recovery that is necessary after every ki technique, before another of its kind can be triggered.

The Grandmaster, on the other hand, has managed to time things so that his energies have recovered from firing off the Ki Blast just as he closes the distance with his momentarily vulnerable opponent. Both hands extend, fingers extended in clutching, claw-like fashion-

!

-are intercepted by the Shadow's hands, one forced aside-

!

-but the other seizing its opposite as it is wreathed with light and sound, Wen unleashing his ki with an electrical crackle.

Shocking Grasp, as done by a ki master, huh?

Shadow Wen clearly knew what was coming, as he had visibly braced himself for the electrifying discharge, both physically, through his externalized ki-based defenses, and in his not-quite-recovered reserves. Being the copy of a Grandmaster-ranked individual, he somewhat succeeds, the ki-born lightning visibly repelled by the sudden shift of its target's similar energy, and flowing along the outer layer of what might be an advanced form of Ki Aura. The defense is not perfect, however, and here and there, tiny bolts of energy bypass the barrier, burn through cloth, and dig into and through skin, muscle, and nerves.

From the way Shadow Wen briefly locks up during and after being hit by the attack, you are forced to revise your previous assessment; that's not JUST a Shocking Grasp-equivalent, but an improvement on the first-circle spell, with the ability to stun or paralyze its victim in addition to simply doing harm.

By itself, it still doesn't seem like a terribly severe attack, at least not for anyone who doesn't have a pre-existing condition that might be aggravated by the discharge, but in the moment, it leaves Shadow Wen effectively immobilized and entirely vulnerable.

"Wa-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-!"

Which is a terrible, terrible state to be in when you're within striking range of a martial artist.

This isn't enough to end the fight on its own, but by the time Wen's Dark Self recovers from his shock, starts putting up a proper defense, and manages to bring Wen's one-sided beatdown to a halt, he's taken quite a few hits, all of them to very sensitive places.

Unlike a Lynel, Wen knows EXACTLY where to hit a human opponent for maximum effect.

---

Shadow Wen breaks his Original's flurry of fists, retaliates, and even gets off a few solid hits of his own, but in the span of maybe ten seconds it takes for all of that to happen, Wen lands another solid blow, this one a double palm strike that carries enough force to send his Dark Self staggering backwards-

"Shoe-!"

*Wham*

"-to the head-!"

-and into ideal range for a rising kick-

"-and repeat!"

*Wham*

-which turns into a downward heel-strike. The follow-up doesn't actually hit the Shadow on the head, thanks to a last-second twitch, but the only favor that taking the blow to the joint of shoulder and neck instead of the skull does him is that he's still conscious when he hits the ground, rather than out like a light. And even then, the Shadow is still stunned enough by the first part of the combo that Wen is able to get him into a pin with a lot less trouble than it should have taken.

The Shadow breaks out of that, rolls away, and makes it back to his feet, but it sets the tone for the last thirty seconds of the match. After that exchange of ranged attacks leading into a rapid-fire beatdown, Wen's simply secured too much of an advantage and done too much damage for his Dark Self to make up the difference with conventional techniques, and the Grandmaster is pointedly not giving his other self the space or time necessary to break out the really exotic stuff-

!

-at least until, with a great effort and a burst of ki, the Shadow forces his Original away.

"Secret Technique!" the Shadow declares suddenly, ki still surging around him.

"Not that, you fool!" Wen declares.

"What is he-?"

"Is that-?"

And then, blurring like a Body Flicker turned up to maximum, the Shadow declares: "TIME FLIESRun Away!"

Sage Elfaron blinks and raises one hand. "Wait-!"

A moment later, there is a *slam* as Shadow Wen collides with a heretofore nigh-invisible barrier that had come up around the area where the two masters were fighting. No doubt derived from the Wall of Force, it proves more than sturdy enough to withstand the force of a human body ramming into it at blinding speed.

Shadow Wen himself, bodily reinforced by ki, also holds together despite the violent impact.

"Uuuugghhhh..."

That is about the best that can be said for him, however, as he peels off of the upright pane of force and falls limply to the floor.

Wen facepalms at the display. "Even without the barrier, where were you planning to GO?" he wonders.

"Well, in theory," Elfaron says, as he shuffles towards the fallen fighter, "the Trial COULD be expanded beyond this room. It is a facsimile of the Chamber of Trials that I oversaw in life, which was located at the heart of the Great Palace, so TECHNICALLY, a facsimile of the Palace also exists beyond here."

Very technically.

Yay for space-time nonsense?

Wen hums, sending a thoughtful glance in the direction of the chamber's one door. "So, a bit like that Royal Palace the Princess gave so much trouble to the vampire ladies with, then?"

"Vampires?" some of the masters mutter.

"Princess?" others in the audience ask.

"...a bit," Elfaran agrees, in a tone that tells you this is seriously understating the matter. Rather than follow up on it, the Sage turns and looks down at the laid-out Shadow, giving him a poke with his staff. "Hey. Are you still conscious?"

"Nrrgg."

"Well, then; do you wish to continue?"

"Naaaaggggh."

"In that case, winner: Wen! And Shadow, return!"

And that is the end of the Trials.

---

When the Grandmaster emerges from the Ring a moment later, it is to an ovation. Not everybody is standing, and not all seem entirely enthused about the clapping - much less the cheering, shouts, and whistling that various members of the crowd are performing - but you get the impression that the unspoken objections are more out of a sense that greeting and acclaiming a philosophical ancestor should be conducted with more solemnity.

After hearing Wen give an account of his own life over a curry, "solemn" is not really a term you'd associate with him, so you go ahead and clap along.

For his part, Wen appears bemused by the applause, and slowly raises a hand to wave at the crowd.

...you wonder, absently, how challenges in the martial realm end.

For that matter, you wonder if standing ovations were a thing in Wen's era and region of life on Earth.

Regardless, while the praise continues, some of the audience start to make their way down to the arena floor, only for Elder Terok and the other priests - who are already on their way down - to call for everyone to sit tight for a minute while they sort out the Grandmaster's prize for clearing the Trials.

"Alex, if you could come give us a hand with this?" Koron calls to you.

Curious as to what exactly you're needed for, but far from reluctant, you leave your seat, slide past a few people to the stairs, and then jog down to the sandy center of the Ring with Briar tagging along.

"What do you need?" you inquire, as you get within easy speaking distance.

"Wen's here as a summoned entity, so we can't send his rewards back with him," Madam Lanora explains.

Ah. "So you need me to call up the Postman."

"If you would."

As you get on with that, the priestly trio do their thing.

From Din, who entirely approves of Wen's ability to take on a Lynel with little more than his wits, body, and will, there comes a new cloak, a fine, furry thing with clawed shoulder padding and a pull-up hood that resembles... no, that IS the snarling, leonine face of a Lynel. The whole thing radiates defensive magic, a mix of protection against purely physical force and general elemental harm.

"...a bit ghoulish," Wen notes as he looks the item over.

"Well, usually when somebody kills a Lynel, they take one of its weapons, whether to use or as a trophy," Elder Terok explains. "The Lynels themselves are fine with either outcome. But you don't use any of the same weapons and don't have much use for a trophy, so something else was needed. And the Lynel in question insisted."

The Grandmaster looks at the "hood" of the cloak, and then at the Goron.

The Goron shrugs geologically, as if to say, "Monsters, what can you do?"

"Oh," Koron interjects, "he also wants a rematch at some point."

Naturally, THAT part makes perfect sense to Wen.

From Nayru, the Grandmaster receives a woven mat, one which reveals a complex design in the Hyrulean style when unrolled, lines and characters radiating out from - or perhaps gathering to - the central Triforce emblem, wherein each fragment is marked with its respective Goddess's symbol. Aside from some Abjuration-based wards to preserve the cleanliness, integrity, and possible the comfort of the item - and it does look nice and soft for a piece of portable carpet - the magic invested in the mat speaks of Divination and Enchantment, the latter to help focus the user's mind and the former to... hm. That feels a bit like the Spell to Contact Another Plane, although not exactly...

"As you said," Madam Lanora remarks, "one must never stop learning. This item will help with that."

Wen receives the "Mat of Meditation" with a gracious bow.

And finally, from Farore-

"Who is kind of miffed at her sisters for grabbing the interesting prize slots," the druid notes.

-there is the Heart Container.

Wen looks the glittering crystal over, considering.

Is there a form that you'd recommend (through Briar, as you're a bit busy summoning the Postman) Wen accept the Heart Container in?

---

While maintaining your focus on calling up the Postman, you reach out through your familiar bond to nudge Briar and pass along your thoughts on the Heart Container. It is, of course, entirely Wen's choice what he does with the thing, and you are but a distant student of his art, so it would not be appropriate for you to try and tell him what to do with his prize.

That said, unless Wen has taken some VERY interesting post-ascension field trips that nobody has yet mentioned, you undoubtedly know a lot more about Hyrule and the manifestations of its magic than he does. With that in mind, it behooves a dutiful student to ensure that whatever decision the Grandmaster makes is an informed one.

The priests do their own bit in that regard, of course, but having you - through Briar - to provide further input and a live example for the utility of all three major categories of Heart Container is a resource that Wen doesn't hesitate to make use of.

The standard Heart Container, while practical, probably offers the least overall. Wen is already a past-master of ki-empowered martial arts, so his reserves - both of raw vitality and of refined ki - are already deep, and his skills well-honed. There's little in that area the Heart could give him that he wouldn't be able to unlock for himself with sufficient time, effort, and insight, and the up-front boost is something he just doesn't need nearly as much as you did, given your physical youth and ongoing growth.

The Heart of Time is an interesting option, given Time's incorporation as one of the foundational factors of the Five Elements Style - the fulcrum upon which Wen chose to align and balance the other four, more physical elements of his philosophy and the energies and aspects it channels. An increased affinity for temporal forces would not only provide a boost to Wen's Time-based techniques - potentially helping him smooth out any rough edges Nayru might be troubled by - it would also make it easier for him to interact with temporal entities, both in simply finding them and in making a good impression afterwards, or in enduring the presence of some of the more hazardous sorts.

Unlike the standard Heart Container, this version would be difficult for Wen to find an equivalent to using only his own power. Not impossible, perhaps - you've heard a few things about Chinese alchemy and cultivators - but there would definitely be an element of chance and hardship above and beyond the mere effort needed to replicate the boons of the standard form of the gift.

And then there is the third use of the Heart Container, this being to create and empower a Ring of Trials in some other suitable location. You have to say, you think this is probably the best choice for Wen, as the Ring is something he can't create for himself at all, while it has the potential to yield multiple benefits - perhaps not to Wen himself, directly, but if he were to set this thing up in his current native plane, you can't imagine the other ascendant martial artists WOULDN'T like to make use of it, and consequently, be willing to trade gifts, favors, training tips, or whatever else it is that the Punch Dimension places sets value on for a chance to face fresh foes and win fabulous prizes.

And also bragging rights. Can't forget about those.

Wen says aloud that he was leaning towards the "Heart of the Ring" to begin with, with the Heart of Time being a very close second - because as you guessed, high-end temporal relics of that sort are not the kind of thing you find just laying around. Still, after hearing your thoughts on the matter, even as neutrally as you phrased them and through Briar's filter besides, Wen has pretty much been sold on the matter.

And so the Grandmaster gains the Heart of the Ring of Trials. He even bows to tradition, alien though it may be to him, and does the two-handed overhead treasure-lift pose as the relic takes on its final form.

---

"Da-da-da-daaa!"

Briar, Vert, Koron, and the two Shadows all join you in making the traditional treasure-finding noise. Where Briar and Shadow Alex both sound somewhat resigned to it, the Kokiri druid, his partner, and Shadow Briar are all energetic.

"...what are they doing?" several members of the audience wonder.

"WHY are they doing?" somebody else asks.

"Should we...?" yet another begins.

"Nah, whatever's going on there, we're too late."

"Besides, it could be religious."

"...how?"

"I mean, the whole event has three priests and their deities overseeing it, so can we really say a sing-song chant ISN'T some kind of sacred rite?"

...

...I mean...

No.

But-!

No.

Awww...

Restraining an urge to laugh, you refocus your attention on your still in-progress calling spell, which you've managed not to lose despite the brief, traditional interruption. You do have to spend some extra time recalibrating the spell matrix, but one of the advantages of rituals is that they're a little more forgiving of minor... not mistakes, no, but variations in how they're cast. It has to do with how rituals are designed to be cast over much longer periods of time than battle-magic, and hence both need and have certain safeguards built in to account for personal shortcomings of the caster and unhelpful environmental influences.

Doing something outright WRONG will still blow up in your face, of course, but just doing things imperfectly is less volatile, especially for someone with your skills.

While you keep on with that, Wen lowers his last prize. The masters in the audience seem to take this as a sign that the ceremonial - if not religious - portion of the event is concluded, and collectively rise to their feet. That motion is echoed by at least half the crowd, and a certain amount of discussion ensues as people in general start making their way down to the arena floor.

"This should be fun," Briar notes.

"I'm surprised nobody's just flipped over the wall and into the Ring," her Shadow notes.

"They're being polite," Wen says, squinting at some of his distant successors. "And unless I miss my guess, they are also maneuvering to determine who gets the dubious honor of being the one to confirm my identity."

...ah. Putting one guy up to ask the questions they all have on their minds - in this case, "Who?", "How?", and "Why?" - officially confirm that Wen is who he claimed to be, and in the process, risk being remembered in the annals of the School of Five Elements as, "that one master who doubted the Grandmaster's return even in the face of all the obvious evidence."

"Seen that sort of 'after you; no, after YOU; no, I insist' thing before, huh?" Briar guesses.

"Oh, yes," Wen replies wryly. "Many, many times."

---

"Alex?" Briar wonders. "Why do I hear evil laughter in your head?"

The rest of the group standing at the center of the Ring turn their heads to look your way.

You explain your thoughts via the familiar bond and a bit of telepathic assistance.

Briar begins to snicker.

"Oh, this ought to be good," Vert says.

Getting her amusement under control, your partner quickly passes on the details to the others.

The three priests and the Grandmaster trade glances.

"I see nothing wrong with this," Koron notes, grinning widely.

"It is the natural order of things," Lanora agrees with a smaller but no less anticipatory smile.

"Doing them a favor, really," Elder Terok huffs, with clearly faked indifference.

"It HAS been rather a long time since I've had the opportunity to teach a class," Wen admits, affecting the expression of a dutiful master, before looking down at the items in his arms. "May I leave the gifts your ladies have chosen to grant me in your care, while I attend to that responsibility?"

"Of course, of course."

"Thank you."

Wen hands over the Mat of Meditation and the Heart of the Ring, but after a moment's consideration, decides to throw the Lynel Cloak on. Taken by itself, the Cloak's clawed shoulder pads and toothy, face-shaped "cowl" are certainly impressive and even a bit off-putting, but the REAL intimidation value comes from the knowledge of what used to own the fur, and the fact that Wen beat the thing in a straight fight.

The Grandmaster suppresses his ki signature and then does something that goes beyond Ki Concealment, reducing not just his aura but also the sense of his physical presence. You have to focus and struggle to keep your eyes on him, and you think that if you hadn't been looking right at him the entire time - or if you just turned head for a moment even now - you'd forget he was there.

Enshrouded in this ki-based stealth technique, Wen sneaks off towards the crowd. You soon lose track of him among their numbers, but straining your ears...

...

"SITUATIONAL AWARENESS!"

"Wha-!"

"Who-!"

"Holy-!"

---

In response to Wen's sudden and loud appearance from out of thin air, not only do most of the nearby masters start and/or recoil in surprise, quite a few snap into defensive stances, with at least three taking a swing at their "attacker" - possibly in response to the abrupt presence of an unfamiliar ki signature, perhaps because they caught sight of the Lynel Cloak's snarling cowl and thought "monster!", or maybe for other reasons.

Wen shifts his head to avoid one strike and redirects the second incoming blow with his left hand, sending it into the path of the third attack.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Todo!"

"Decent responses all around, once you'd noticed me," the Grandmaster critiques, letting go of his temporary human shield. "But only five of you managed that before I'd announced myself, even with this attention-getting cloak on-"

It does stand out a bit, doesn't it? Even in death, Lynels are not subtle creatures.

"-and the only one who saw me before I was within striking range was Lu, who has the unfair advantage of being the one that summoned me in the first place!"

"What!?"

"How!?"

"You mean, it wasn't the boy?"

Wen looks like he's about to raise a hand to enforce some DISCIPLINE on his noisy successor-students, but that last remark draws his attention in a different manner. "Your guess wasn't entirely off; young Harris WAS indirectly responsible..."

That leads into a quick recounting of how Lu Tze overcame his own Trials and earned the Heart of Wen, as well as what that item can be used for.

"You can SUMMON-!?"

"You didn't think to MENTION-!?"

"DISCIPLINARY FIST!" Wen interrupts.

*Pow*
*Bop*

"...ow..."

"Recite Clodpool's Fourth Warning!"

"Grandmaster! 'A master's ears are keen to the sound of failure, offend them at your peril'!"

Wen blinks in bafflement. "Is THAT how it's taught these days?"

"...what was the original saying, sir? If I might ask."

"If memory serves, it was, 'Stop shouting, Clodpool, it doesn't help me understand you over the ringing from that explosion.'"

There is a general pause.

"...what blew up, sir?"

"He'd just had a spectacular failure of a Ki Blast..."

Your attention is turned elsewhere as you complete your calling spell-

"Postman, appear!"

*Poof*

"As request- huh?"

-and bring forth the holy messenger once more.

"My word," the Postman muses, as he looks around at the Ring and the audience. "Quite the crowd, today."

One quick question: how will you pay for this service?

---

It's simplest all-around if you just handle the transaction yourself. This would normally incur a debt from Wen, but the cost of the Postman's hazard pay comes out to slightly less than half a gold coin's worth, which is fairly inconsequential as these things go, and easily subsumed by the "(grand)master and (almost) disciple" relationship and interactions you and Wen already have going on.

"So," the Postman continues, pulling his attention away from all the martial artists, "what's the request? Pickup or delivery, letter or package?"

"Delivery and package," you reply. "Specifically, I need that Heart Container-"

"My goodness!"

"-the enchanted mat, and that cloak" - you turn and point at Wen - "delivered to their proper owner."

"...but he's right there?"

"That's actually his summoned form, the real guy is on another plane."

The Postman stares at you for a moment, and then looks at the priests. "That's allowed?"

"Surprised us, too," Koron admits.

"Of course, it wouldn't be much use for most summoned creatures," Madam Lanora points out, "since the spells that conjure them normally only last for a few minutes at best. Then again, that does help to explain why the idea was never really considered before..."

Yeah, Ganondorf might not have been the ONLY guy in all of Hyrule's history that could have summoned a creature long enough for it to have a good chance of getting through a Ring of Trials, or even the only one who'd have both the ability and the opinion that making monsters more powerful was a good idea, but if so, the number of qualifying spellcasters can't have been very high. Not to mention that anybody that powerful has access to methods for increasing the power of their minions that don't rely on the favor of deities who may or may not be friendly - which the Goddesses wouldn't have been in Ganondorf's case, and probably most of the others besides.

"I'll say." The Postman adjusts his hat. "Well, then, if I can talk to the gentleman in question before he's dismissed, I should be able to follow his summoning back to its point of origin. Save everybody some time and trouble. Although speaking of, what can you tell me about the plane in question?"

"Very little, except that it's apparently where a bunch of warrior-sage types go after they died or ascended," you answer. "And apparently they all fight each other. A lot."

"...ah," the messenger says awkwardly. "One of those warrior's paradises, huh?"

Sounds like it, anyway.

"Yeah. Definitely going to be charging hazard pay for that one."

"Fair enough. Do you have change for a gold piece, or would you prefer silver?" you inquire of the Postman, as you dig into your pocket.

"I mean, what I'd REALLY prefer is Rupees, but..."

Spent 1 gold coin
Received 2 Green Rupees, 1 Blue Rupee, and 4 silver pieces

Is there anything else you wish to discuss with the Postman while he's here?

---

You ask the Postman if he'd like you to apply a defensive buff or two - or three, or four, or more - before he faces the perils of the Punch Plane.

"Thanks for the offer, but this time, I think I have to go in as-is," he replies reluctantly, while shuddering in dreadful anticipation.

"...why?" you wonder. The prospect clearly bothers him, so what's the point?

"I've never been to a plane of battle before, myself, but I've talked to some messengers of other gods who have, and apparently, showing up with a lot of active spells on your person is treated about the same as somebody showing up wearing full armor and with their weapons drawn."

"Them's fightin' words, huh?"

He nods. "That, and a lot of warriors just plain don't like magic or magic-users, so even if they don't take it as a challenge, they're still kind of unhappy to see you."

Ah, the age-old rivalry of those who live by the strength of their arms and those who live by the strength of their magic. From a certain perspective, it can be compared to the "jocks versus nerds" issue found in many Twentieth Century schools, only with both sides legitimately putting their lives on the line in pursuit of their chosen field of expertise, and no few of them falling to the methods of the other side as a result.

For every platoon of common soldiers wiped out by a well-placed Fireball, there's a class's worth of unremarkable spellcasters cut to shreds by some rampaging knight, and for every legendary champion brought low by curse or death spell, there's an archmage assassinated by a so-called hero...

Actually, that DOES explain why a lot of dead, ascendant, or otherwise post-mortal individuals hanging out on a plane of battle might get ticked off by the presence of magic, or conversely, why the inhabitants of some arcanely-inclined afterlife might get angry at the arrival of a force of sword-slingers.

Personally, you think both sides are being a bit silly. Isn't it obviously better to be good at BOTH martial and mystical pursuits? Sure, not everybody can be as you are or do as you do, but still...

Anyway, with the Postman having taken a pass on any magical assistance this time, you just thank him for his services, both today and in general.

He straightens up a bit. "It's what I'm here for!"

Having settled that business, you look around. The Grandmaster's Trials were more or less the high point of the day's event, and at least half of the audience have left their seats, either assuming that things are done or that just hoping to get close enough to where Wen is still "instructing" the masters to catch a bit of wisdom. You also note more than a few faces showing signs of hunger - it's past one o'clock, meaning you've missed lunch at the School - which is another reason to consider heading back. On top of that, the priests and Shadow Alex are all looking wrung out from the sheer number of Trials they've been overseeing and powering; you actually had to resummon your Dark Self a couple of times.

All in all, the situation is not really ideal for you to jump into the Ring, and you weren't particularly planning on it. Lu-sensei skipped out on a repeat run, and is showing no indication of changing his mind, and there is also the fact that every single person who's run today's Trials has done so using only martial techniques and ki powers. You had to pull out magic to go all nine rounds, and doing that again after all your fellow adherents of the Five Elements Style went through without such an advantage feels a bit improper. Plus, while the notion of testing yourself by facing the Ring anew and refraining from resorting to spellcraft in the process isn't without some appeal, any such Trial run would also be decidedly anticlimactic after the Grandmaster's showing - you simply aren't going to be capable of putting on the sort of show he did without your magic.

Which you need to transport everybody back to Taiwan shortly. Can't forget that, especially with your Shadow looking as mystically winded as he is.

Still...

---

Even with all of that in mind, it seems a shame to go to all the trouble of bringing so many people to Bali Ha'i and having them face the Ring of Trials, without doing so yourself.

Maybe just a short run, then? To engage with the spirit of the day, while keeping your responsibilities as the main means of transport in mind.

"Do the four of you have enough energy left for one more set of Trials? Just for three rounds," you clarify.

"...I suppose I could manage that much," Shadow Alex says after a moment, affecting a put-upon groan. "Planning to show off a bit of magic?"

"It's not like I can show off anything with ki that they haven't seen done better already."

"Eh, true." Your Shadow shrugs. "Just don't forget you're driving everybody home... unless you were thinking of making Batreaux do it?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Good. Because that would have been kind of a jerk move."

"And that's you saying that," you acknowledge.

"And that's me saying..." Your Shadow pauses, frowning, then shrugs and nods. "Yeah, fair."

Then he turns and heads for one of the sets of stairs connecting the various levels of the Ring. Koron and Lanora do likewise-

"I take it the fun's not over yet?" Kahine observes, as she pops up.

-and Elder Terok suddenly looks like he kind of wishes he'd traded roles with one of his contemporaries.

"One more short bout, ma'am, and then we'll probably be on our way," you assure her.

"I can't convince you to stay for dinner?" she asks.

"Unfortunately, the masters and instructors are expected back at their school before then."

"Ah, the downsides of responsibility. But, they must do what they must do, and I'll not get in the way." And then she smiles at the Goron. "Which, happily enough, leaves my afternoon schedule wide open."

Terok grumbles something you don't quite catch. A neat trick, considering your proximity.

Between the necessary raised voices and mild pushing necessary to make their way back through the milling crowd, Shadow Alex and the two priests have drawn a certain amount of attention just returning to their posts, and when the Ring fires up and re-summons the viewing globe, everybody who hadn't been paying them much attention looks in the direction of the spherical screen.

"Is it not over after all?"

"What comes after a Grandmaster?"

"A bonus round?"

Do you want to say anything before you dive in?

---

Without further - or indeed, any - ado, and no real preparations, you step into the Ring and disappear in a flicker of golden light.

So, how do we do this?

He mentioned wanting to show off magic, and given some of the content of his lectures...

You're thinking a live demonstration to help the students visualize the lesson, huh?

I am. Objections?

Nope.

When the glare fades, you find yourself in a mist-shrouded graveyard at night, under a cloudy sky - although even as you look up, the clouds are starting to part to reveal a full moon. The whole setting immediately has your Sunnydale instincts on guard, doubly so considering some of the stuff Shadow Alex passed on about his Independence Night vampire hunt, and when the moon's steadily increasing light reveals Hylian-style statuary and script adorning the monuments and the tombstones, it really does nothing to settle your nerves.

Guided by your readings in the holy texts, your knowledge of Necromancy, and certain deeper instincts, you make it a point not to disturb any of the graves, whether by hitting the memorial or just walking on the soil-

*Click-ick-ick*

-but as this is a Trial, leaving the dead to rest in peace was clearly never going to be an option.

*Clack-ack-ack*

From out of the earth they come, bony hands erupting, clawing for purchase or prey, and then dragging what remains of the body attached to them along with unnatural swiftness.

"...just the one?" you wonder aloud, looking at the Stalkin. It's a bit too tall and too proportionate - especially about the head - to be a Stalchild, but it lacks the menacing height, dangerous movements, or armaments of a Stalfos.

"I'm thinking, 'Warm-up'," Briar muses from where she hovers, having returned to her natural form in transit.

"Fair enough. Okay," you say, raising your voice for the sake of the audience, "so what we have here is a Stalkin, a somewhat uncommon form of undead native to Briar's homeland. Not as strong or as tough as an Earthly corpse-demon vampire, more than dangerous enough as far as the average untrained civilian would be concerned, but relatively straightforward for a competent martial artist to deal with."

You quickly demonstrate that, dodging the strikes of the monster's claws, getting in close, and delivering a rising uppercut-

*Pow!*

-that literally takes its head off, leaving the undead to hastily grab for and juggle its own skull.

"As long as said fighter doesn't lose their head, anyway," you conclude. "Do note that, since it doesn't have flesh or organs, edged weapons and traditional projectiles aren't very effective against an enemy like this. A Ki Blast-"

*Pow*
*Clatter*

"-will do that," you continue, as the skeleton collapses into so many bones, "although using external expressions of ki against the undead can be a bit of a risk. Even the ones that don't normally have any ability to drain their victims can still 'eat' raw life-force sent their way, and of course, they're sensitive to it."

*Click-ick-ick*
*Clack-ack-ack*

"Which can lead to issues like this," you note, as two more Stalkin drag themselves out of their graves. "So, if that's how an unremarkable martial artist might deal with this sort of opponent, here's how a magic-user of a comparable level of skill might do it..."

---

"Disrupt Undead!"

A bolt of pale white light erupts from your outstretched fingertip, hitting one of the newly-risen Stalkin in the shoulder area, and spreading out from there in a brief burst of spectral flame. The bones aren't blackened or shattered, but that shoulder and the adjoining sections of the skeleton momentarily go limp as the necrotic energies animating the undead are, well, disrupted.

"Not the most powerful spell ever created," you begin-

!

-before trailing off in surprise as the flames keep spreading, and the Stalkin continues to slow, stumble, and finally collapse and go still.

"...huh," Briar notes, flying over. "It's dead. Again."

"...that doesn't usually happen with a simple cantrip," you comment, as much for the audience's information as in response to your partner. "Even for things this weak."

"Well, no, but how many boosts are you getting to your Necromancy at this point?"

...

Regular access to the equivalent of seventh-circle spells, eighth-circle with the right circumstances, and ninth if you push, some boosts (albeit in different areas) from your Elemental Affinities of Light, Shadow, Darkness, and Spirit, and a further push from the Heart of Spirit AND Farore's favor...

Okay, yeah, so maybe that is enough to ramp things up, at least with a lucky shot.

"Right, so, most spellcasters aren't going to get that kind of effectiveness with a single casting of Disrupt Undead," you clarify, "not unless it's a really, REALLY weak creature. That said, since it IS only a cantrip, they'll be able to re-cast it more or less indefinitely. The trick would be not getting caught by the Stalkin before then, which is where traps, defensive barriers, and disposable minions come into play. On that note - I SUMMON YOU, MOBLIN!"

*Poof*

"Arf?"

Hm. Your good boy looks smaller and younger than usual. Perhaps the first iteration of the Spell to Summon a Monster isn't sufficient to capture his full-grown majesty?

Well, it's fine. And if Moblin ends up having a weird dream after this, you'll just have to make sure that the details are entertaining for him. On that note...

"Moblin!" you declare, pointing at the Stalkin. "Fetch the bone, boy!"

Your dog turns, sees the skeleton - which froze at the sight of him - and just stares, motionless except for the rapidly accelerating wagging of his tail.

The Stalkin takes one slow step back-

"ARF!"

*Clatter*

-and then goes down in a heap, flailing frantically, as Moblin eagerly pounces.

"Normally, I would never summon my pet dog to a fight," you note. "But against a weak skeleton with no other weapons, the dog's long-established advantage against bones is enough to carry the day, as you can see."

Right after that, Moblin brings back one of the leg bones, looking up at you eagerly.

"Alright, alright," you say, mock-wrestling the bone away from him. "Here you go," you say, winding up for a throw. "Fetch!"

"Arf!" And away he goes, bounding over graves without a care in the world.

Some of those burial plots shudder as Moblin's paws pad over them, but nothing rises right away. Whether that's because the second Stalkin of the second wave is still mostly functional or because the occupants of those graves fear to confront the dog running around and barking happily, you can't say for certain.

Summoned Moblin brings the leg-bone back to you for another quick round of fetch, and you oblige him, but then you have to end the fun when the one-legged Stalkin drags itself over to lodge a complaint.

One more unexpectedly potent blast of Disrupt Undead ends that phase of the Trial, and causes four Stalkin to slowly and reluctantly rise from the loose soil. The two nearest ones don't even come up all the way, instead peering around cautiously and almost diving back into the ground when they spot Moblin; those further back hesitate when they're about half-undug, but then finish pulling themselves free and shamble forward to cover their compatriots while they finish emerging.

You take the opportunity to line up a casting of Magic Missile-

*Fwoosh*

-which you split between two of the undead, three shots to the first bony body and two for the second. The first part of the barrage is sufficient to shatter the skeleton and send it to the earth in broken bits; the second proves a bit less effective, as the Stalkin is still moving afterwards, but from the cracked and dislocated bones, it definitely felt the hits.

Then, making sure to hold Moblin back, you pull out a casting of Burning Hands to clear the angrily advancing wave before its individual members can reach you.

And down go all three remaining skeletons.

And then EIGHT Stalkin start to rise from the ground. This is enough walking bones to make Moblin whimper uneasily.

"Easy, boy," you say, giving him a reassuring pat. To the audience, you say, "Now, this is the sort of threat that would have most common spellcasters running for it, if they had any sense. For the ones who've reached the third circle and really come into their own, however..."

---

"Some other third-circle spell, or a lesser spell with some metamagic applied!"

"-you might run into a necromancer with the ability to take control of a few such mindless undead and turn them against the rest, like so." And then you cast a modified Spell to Command Undead, giving the order, "Stop!"

And like that, all eight Stalkin stagger to a halt.

...fair, but a bit anticlimactic.

"For the record, no ordinary magic-user is going to be able to command this many undead with just one spell," you state. "Some of them could accumulate this many undead servants over time, and plenty could animate or summon the things and then let them run wild, but casual mass control of the undead is generally a master-level ability. So if you run into somebody that can do it, stay alert."

You've no sooner said that than the ground shakes again, and this time over a dozen of the undead monsters - more like sixteen, if the Goddesses are sticking with the established pattern of doubling the number - claw their way to the surface.

"O skeletal warriors, defend me!" you call, with the hammiest voice you can manage. "At least long enough for me to finish casting that spell of spells, that universal problem-solver and -maker, every sorcerer's favorite answer to groups of organized unfriendliness - FIREBAAAALL!"

*Pew*

Out goes the little mote of flame, passing by the milling, thrashing limbs of your valiant but outnumbered temporary skeletal minions and their opposite numbers, until it reaches a point pretty close to dead center for the entire bunch.

*BOOM*

Emphasis, of course, on "dead."

Moblin howls mournfully, perhaps at the sight of so many bones being swallowed up by the fire.

Of course, the blast isn't so intense as to reduce the Stalkin to ashes or smoking fragments, but there are cracks aplenty as the sudden surge of heat breaks a few bones regardless, and when the flare begins to clear, you see only piles of blackened bones and a few upright lower legs left behind. Some of those bones are still twitching, but the majority lie still, stripped of their reanimating magic in a grim but effective demonstration of Fire's property of cleansing-through-destruction - and undoubtedly a more graphic example than just setting off the explosion against a rocky hillside, as you did the other day.

The graveyard shakes once more - and in fact, you have to steady yourself for a moment - as thirty-two Stalkin rise up, this time from graves located farther back. You seem to be running out of plots; maybe that's the clear condition for this Trial, or the "summon actual challenge" part of it?

Regardless, as you flip through your mental spellbook, it occurs to you that you don't have a great supply of fifth-circle blasting spells. Some truly excellent utility magic, to be sure - see Telekinesis, Teleport, and Wall of Force, to name just a few examples - but very little for straight-up nuking your enemies.

But dipping a level down or up wouldn't be a big issue.

---

"Some other spell in the fourth- to sixth-circle range, or the metamagic-altered equivalent thereof!"

You are tempted to pull out a Mass Spell to Cure Light Wounds, to give a "live" demonstration of how spells meant to heal the living tend to have an inverted effect against the living dead, but there are enough Stalkin at this point that you'd only get half of them in one go. More to the point, it's only been a minute or so since you cautioned your audience that channeling raw ki against the undead was a bad idea, and there's a good chance that a directed application of pure life-force IS how ki adepts heal other people.

You aren't completely sure of that, but that uncertainty in and of itself is a good reason not to take the risk of giving the instructors and masters contradictory and potentially dangerous information.

With that in mind, you go with a different approach-

*Rumble-FWOOSH!*

-and a moment later, one unlucky Stalkin is riding a plume of boiling hot water into the misty night sky. Up, up, up it goes, some eighty feet straight into the air, before the Geyser reaches its full expression and begins to rain boiling water down over a wide swathe of the graveyard-

*Clatter*

-along with a number of disconnected bones-

*Crash!*

-and most of a skeletal torso and head, which slam into another unfortunate undead hard enough that neither of them get up afterwards.

"This is an uncommon spell," you note over the gushing of the geyser and the hiss of the hot rain, "and for those who do know it, I honestly wouldn't expect too many to use it in this situation. The terrain's too open, which kind of wastes the main effect, and while the downpour is hot enough to be damaging and covers a large area, it's still not a patch on a Fireball. It IS decent for area denial against large numbers of relatively weak creatures, provided they care about their own existences, but the undead... well."

You gesture at the Stalkin, which are still coming at you, in spite of the scalding hot rain. Here and there, a bone pops from the heat, and small clouds of steam wreathe the skeletons as they advance, sizzling. Several are staggered, and you see a few succumb to the heat outright, but the majority press on, splashing through the growing puddles of steaming water.

You wait a moment, and then another, eyeing those pools, and when they've reached a decent size - which coincides with the first of the Stalkin getting close enough to take a swipe at you with its claws, something you reply to by kicking the thing back into the hot rain it just escaped from - you make with your next spell.

"Chain Lightning!"

The first Stalkin to get hit by the crackling bolt of energy is blown to fragments, and possibly to powder; there is no jittery "dance" of misfiring nerves, as you might see in a fleshier entity, even an undead one, the thing just dies. Even as that's happening, the blast arcs to some eighteen other skeletons, repeating the nigh-instantaneous destruction.

Thanks to the puddles and the ongoing downpour, there are even some tertiary sparks, but these prove to be vastly less potent or accurate than the functions actually programmed into the spell. They do some damage, possibly enough to drop a few more of the Stalkin - but then again, that might just be the ongoing effects of the Geyser.

Gained Lightning Elementalism E (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)
Gained Water Elementalism D (Plus) (Plus) (Plus)

A little disappointed with the outcome, you shrug and bring out the Spell to Disrupt Undead again, picking off the survivors as you maneuver to stay out of their reach.

The Geyser continues to gush for a minute or after the last of the undead have fallen, by which point Summoned Moblin has also disappeared, going out with a disappointed whimper.

Only when you are alone does the graveyard rumble yet again, spitting up no less than sixty Stalkin.

"Now, this next spell is one you're almost certain NOT to encounter," you advise your audience, "but it's one I've mentioned in conversation a few times since my arrival, and I thought it'd be fun to show off - and potentially instructive, in case anybody has really bad or good luck."

You gather your mana, shaping an eighth-circle spell. Once again, it's a little off the power curve you were working with, but like you said, you've namedropped the spell in question to a couple of people on this trip, and you kind of want to live up to your hype.

And so, as the small undead army advances, you take aim.

---

"Let there be light!"

Your words are well chosen, for in the next moment, as your spell takes effect, it's very much as though the sun has just come up in the graveyard.

Emphasis on "in."

There is very little sound as the Sunburst surges into existence, but the spell more than makes up for that with the sheer amount of LIGHT it unleashes. Most of the burial plots and monument simply disappear under the spreading dome of incandescent white energy. Such an abrupt and intense release of Elemental Light should be literally blinding - and you know that for those caught within the spell's area of effect, it commonly is - but fortunately for you and Briar, the safeguards built into the magic keep the most dangerous portion of its radiance contained.

"Oooh, shiny."

...perhaps it is also fortunate that the Spell of Sunburst is an instantaneous magic, so that anybody viewing the thing who succumbed to a moth-like impulse to fly into the light would not have time to do so.

As the flash clears, you blink a few times, trying to clear out the glare and start recovering your night vision as soon as possible. Even with that temporary diminishment of perception, the moon's light is sufficient to reveal that you just effectively landscaped the graveyard. The Stalkin are, to a one, gone, not just knocked down or crushed but OBLITERATED by the intense radiant energies, so thoroughly so that you didn't even get to see the skull-shaped puffs of smoke. But although the damage done to the undead was the most extreme, it was not the full extent of the spell's power, for a large swathe of soil, grass, and stone has been bleached and even burnt by the brilliant flare of Light. Some of the older and more weathered monuments have actually been cracked apart, to the point that some of the tombstones are now just piles of stone, while several statues are missing limbs; one has broken in half at the waist, its upper portion having fallen to the ground in such a way that it seems to be looking in your direction.

You might even feel guilty about that, if this whole thing weren't a simulation.

"So, what do you think, Briar?" you ask. "Successful test?"

"Yeah, I'd say you've done about as much damage here as you can."

Learned Sunburst

As if to put the lie to that statement, the graveyard soil starts trembling AGAIN, more violently than ever before.

"You just HAD to say it," you sigh.

Several of the tombs were caught in the Sunburst, but emerged from it with only minor damage to their exteriors. You're eyeing them warily, expecting the stone doors to burst open and some sort of Stalfos or greater Poe to emerge. Instead-

"Whoooo DAAAARES to deface my precious graaaaveyaaaard?!"

-a faintly familiar phantasmal voice wails from all around you, before the hovering visage of a Hylian spirit - not a Poe, at that, but a translucent humanoid form with a little halo hovering over his head - rises from the ground in a flurry of agitated movement.

You recognize this guy! What was it, Dante?

SCARILY DEVOTED GRAVEKEEPER: DAMPE

You were close!

---

"Sorry, Dampe. I promise, I'm a lot more careful in real graveyards."

"I would hope so!" the old gravedigger's ghost exclaims. "The dead would never be able to rest, otherwise!"

...

"...that's a concerning expression on your face right now, lad," Dampe says somberly.

"Yeah, my hometown kind of has an undead problem. And a demon problem."

The Hylian winces. "And a Demon King problem?"

"Actually, no," you reply, brightening slightly. "Things haven't gotten nearly that bad."

"Ah. So, less 'epic struggle for the fate of the world', more 'nightly struggle to get the bodies to stay buried', is that it?"

That is reasonably accurate, and now that you're thinking about it, it occurs to you that you have no idea how gravediggers, undertakers, and others associated with the handling of dead bodies operate in Sunnydale. They can't ALL be necromancers and demons, right?

...

...right?

...

Leaving that disturbing thought aside for the time being, you focus on the Trial. Gathering your mana and ki-

"Well, then!" the old man's ghost says, raising his lantern. "If you'll just follow me, I will show you the way... the way to your DOOOOM!"

-you pause, on the brink of forming Power to channel.

"We're... not going to fight here?" you ask carefully.

"Fight?" Dampe inquires, sounding startled. "Kid, do I look like I was a fighter to you?"

You look him over. Yes, Dampe had broad shoulders and strong arms in life, but with him being a ghost now, you're not sure how helpful the "memory" of physical strength would be. Plus, he has - or had - the sort of build that's meant more for extended periods of labor than it is for generally brief bouts of violence.

"But if we're not going to fight, then how...?"

"Just follow old Dampe, and find out - if you DARE!"

And with that, he starts drifting backwards down the graveyard path, waving for you to follow him.

Since you do dare, you move along, and in short order, are led to one of the intact graves.

"...good job this is all fake, or there'd be hell to pay," Dampe mutters to himself, looking over some of the other monuments. Clearing his insubstantial throat, the gravekeeper says, "Alright, this is the entrance. Gather your courage, and I'll see you below for the real Trial!"

With that, he falls out of the air, disappearing into the soil of the grave.

You look at Briar. "...do I dig, or...?"

"Try giving the tombstone a push, first," your partner advises.

You do that. At first, the grave marker doesn't move, but then you move around to try pushing it from the other direction, and it slides out of the way easily.

You look from the sliding tombstone to the deep hole that it was covering. Casting a Light Spell on a nearby rock, you drop the glowing stone into the pit, and see that it's deep enough to merit caution, or a rope. Thankfully, you were practicing your Slow Fall technique just the other day, so you should be fine.

---

"Briar, what IS it with Hylians, seriously?"

"Could be cultural trauma from all those demonic invasions," your partner ventures. "A lot of modern Hylians are direct survivors of the latest round of doom and gloom, and they're descended from the survivors of... two, three... at least four more."

Counting backwards, that would be Ganondorf's latest rampage (and death), his previous escape from imprisonment (resulting in death), and his actual imprisonment, and then the incident with Vaati further back in the past, as well as Demise's ancient and effectively forgotten rampage. Plus any others you and your partner are forgetting. In this timeline, at least.

That IS quite a number of demonic invasions for one single kingdom to have to deal with, but you aren't sure how it leads to something like somebody digging a hidden chamber underneath a grave.

...well, not unless Ganondorf's distaste for puzzles wasn't something unique to him, but an issue more generally present in the demonic population. That doesn't seem terribly likely, though.

Whatever the case, you lower yourself into the hole, ki running through your hands and feet - with some difficulty in the latter case, thanks to your shoes - as you try to maintain enough pressure against the sides of the shaft to keep your downward motion at the level of a steady slide rather than an out-and-out fall.

...

"Whaaaa-OOOF!"

"Still alive, there?" Dampe calls, from where he hovers nearby.

"Yeah, I'm a little rattled, but I'm okay," you reply, as you look around at where you've ended up.

Gained Slow Fall E (Plus)

You're standing atop a neat little square-shaped section of stone flooring, perhaps fifteen feet to a side and with a pillar standing at each corner, that looks almost like it could have come out of one of the temples. The walls, however, are bare and largely unworked stone, and the ceiling is a mix of that and hard-packed earth. At the back of the room is a small decline or trench, which Dampe's form hovers over, and past him is a burrowed-out passageway that travels only a couple of feet before splitting up and going off in two different directions, at least that you can make out from here.

There are some off-color violet flames perched above you, providing an eerie light that is enough to see by, although not enough to make the room entirely clear.

"Are you prepared, then, to face the TERRIBLE Trial of the Graveyard?"

"I am," you say firmly.

"Then listen well, brave challenger, for to claim victory, you must defeat old Dampe in a race!" He pauses. "A race to the END!"

...

"That might have worked better with a rumble of thunder," you note lightly.

"I never got the hang of that trick," he grouses.

"So," you go on, more clearly, "just a race? Beat you to the finish line, and that's it?"

"Well, it's more you need to beat my time from when I was alive, which is, not to toot my own horn, pretty impressive," Dampe replies with a certain pride.

Hm.

"And while you're running, I'll be trying to interfere with you," the gravekeeper continues. "Though I'll also be showing you the way; these tunnels go off in a number of directions, and there are a couple of dead ends. Emphasis on the DEAD!"

---

While you could pile on a bunch of ki techniques, that strikes you as a bit unsportsmanlike. However fast afoot Dampe may have been in life, he wouldn't have had access to ki techniques - not unless something VERY strange was going on, anyway - so there's a limit to just how quick he could have been. You're no slouch in the speed department yourself, and given you must be half a century younger than Dampe was when he died - and probably a few decades younger than he was when he set his "best time" - you're fairly confident in your ability to keep up.

That said, the old gravekeeper IS a ghost and HAS admitted that he'll be trying to interfere with you while you run the course, so a little mystical "balancing of the scales" in return is only natural. You'd still prefer not to use ki, though, mainly because of your earlier decision to use this Trial to show off what magic can do in a "real-life" setting.

If you're going to run a race, you need speed, and there's one spell in particular that is well-suited to such a function.

As you do some stretching exercises, you gather your mana and shape a self-targeting Spell of Haste. There's no way you'll need two and a half hours of increased speed to clear your next two Trials, but fifteen minutes might not be enough, depending on what they involve - this one's lasted for the better part of ten minutes, now, if only because you've been taking it slow to demonstrate your spellcraft and now chat with Dampe, and there's probably a couple minutes more before it's over. So the next Trial COULD go on for a similar length of time.

Best to be certain.

Dampe frowns as you complete the spell. "What does that do?"

"It'saSpellofHaste," you say quickly.

The ghost groans. "Of course it is. Well, that won't help you as much as you think! Probably..."

A Poe emerges from somewhere, holding a lantern whose flames glow bloody red. It whispers something that registers through your Spell of Tongues as, "On your markssss."

You and Dampe take your positions.

The flames in the lantern burn a virulent yellow. "Get sssset."

You tense.

The flames turn ghastly green. "Ghoooost!"

And you're off!

Dampe's ghostly nature lets him go from zero to running speed in a blink, but between your natural turn of speed and the boost from your spell, you have no trouble keeping up-

"Whoa!"

-at least until he throws a huge plume of fire out of his lantern at you! Such are your reflexes and your evasive skills that this doesn't meaningfully slow you; you simply tuck and roll under the arc of the flame-

"What the-?!"

-dodging it neatly, and startling Dampe enough in the process that you make up some distance on him besides.

You note a couple of turns in the track, but both of them lead into darker areas, so you ignore them - which proves a good choice in the latter case, as when you run past the mouth of the side-corridor, you see it comes to a stop less than ten feet along.

So, dark places are dead-ends, maybe?

Up ahead, the track splits in two. Although you're starting to pull ahead of Dampe, his course suggests that he's heading for the left-handed path, and you're close enough to the intersection that you can see a weird purple glow in that direction, which probably marks the intended track. That said, you can also sense concentrations of unlife similar to the Poe that started the race for you lurking along that path, and if Dampe throwing flames at you was part of the challenge, well, you aren't sure you want to give a bunch of more actively unfriendly undead a chance to take their shots at you as well.

The right-handed path, meanwhile, doesn't have that eerie glow or the indication of wandering spirits. It's also not as dark as the two obvious dead-end paths you've already ignored, so maybe it's an alternative route? Or maybe it's just a disguised dead end...

---

Even with the presence of spooks on the "actual" route of the race, you can't say for certain that the un-haunted path is the better choice. It could be another dead end, or it could require you to cover more ground than the course Dampe has laid out and marked for the Trial. For that matter, since you're ostensibly somewhere underneath a graveyard, you wouldn't be entirely surprised if there were more undead lurking about, hidden from your senses by the winding layout of the tunnels and the simple thickness of the earth and stone walls.

All in all, it's probably for the better if you stick to the main path.

So you do, and as you round a corner, you're able to lay eyes on the source of the purple light - two plumes of phantom flame, burning steadily as they hover several inches above low stone stands at opposite sides of the passage.

Easily a dozen Poes are also present, lined up to either side of the pillars, and at your approach, they raise their lanterns-!

"Yaaaay," spectral voices intone ominously.

-and, uh, cheer?

You aren't sure if you feel better or worse when one of them does throw a little ball of blue fire at you, as you'd expected-

!

-and then gets clobbered by its neighbor, who proceeds to chitter at the first Poe in a scolding manner.

Really, more than the expected attack, it's the surprise of spectral discipline that almost trips you up, but you manage to keep your pace steady.

The tunnel turns again, bringing you to another intersection, of which the path directly ahead of you must be the far end of the turn-off you considered taking. Ignoring that way, then, you make a left, and quickly come to another intersection - but the course to your right is another obvious dead-end, so once again, you head left and keep moving.

By this point, you've pretty much left Dampe behind-

!

-and then you nearly jump out of your skin when the old man's ghost flies through the wall ahead of you.

"It's not that easy to lose me, kid!" he cackles. "But you're beating my living time, so keep it up, I guess? IF YOU CAN!"

You surely can, and when the laughing undertaker flies into a lightless section of the tunnel, you charge in after him, trusting to your exotic and non-visual senses to "see" you through the darkness- which lasts all of a couple of strides before you're back in a reasonably illuminated chamber-

!

-and going down a raaaamp-!

If your balance wasn't as good as it is, you might even have taken a tumble there. As it is, you clear the decline without issue, finding yourself in a room with several stalagmites, exits at opposite sides of the chamber. Dampe is still slightly ahead of you and heading for the passage to your right, so you follow suit, and soon have overtaken him and turned a corner to find another pair of purple flames, as well as a gallery of ghosts-

"Yaaaay."

-located right in front of a blank stone wall?

*Rumble*

Oh, wait. It's a door, and at Dampe's approach, it's opening, the solid slab sliding up into the ceiling.

---

You can (probably) ask later; right now, the race is still on!

With that in mind, you don't stop as you approach the door, instead dropping into a forward roll-

"Oooohhhh," the Poes exclaim, in faint but genuine surprise.

"This again?" Dampe wonders.

-and ducking under the still-rising door. The area of unnatural darkness just beyond doesn't last for long, and you subsequently come to your feet in a well-lit room with two more of those not-quite braziers, purple flames hovering before columns that reach to the ceiling, their wide faces covered with Hylian writing. There seem to be three exits from this chamber, two of them off to your left, the last to your right, but from their positioning and the sharp turns they make, those two almost-adjacent paths probably re-connect with each other not far on.

That has you inclined to try the right-handed path even before you sense Dampe's aura moving in that direction. Hurrying to keep up your lead - and keeping a proverbial eye on the ghostly gravekeeper, in case he was trying to fake you out - you come to another intersection, a proper crossroads, in fact. The three routes of advance are all elevated a couple of feet off the floor, but not so high that you couldn't clear the distance with a good running start.

In consideration of that and the fact that it would be easiest to continue going straight ahead, you do that - but just before you kick off, you release the Lesser Spell of Farore's Wind that you've been holding on standby, dropping the emerald-green circle of light right in the middle of the four-way intersection. This way, if it turns out you've picked the wrong route, you can "double back" in the blink of an eye, saving yourself at least a little time.

One thing you note as you get airborne is that the route to the right is another dead end, so if your current choice of path is incorrect, you'll be going left-

!

-or maybe you're on the correct course already, you muse, as you turn a corner and see what is probably the other end of the left-handed path coming out into the route you're already on.

Regardless, the track now leads into a room where a relatively narrow strip of stone winds its way up the sides of the chamber, circling around a worryingly dark and deep-looking pit.

---

As you step into the room with the pit, you're already gathering mana. One, two, three strides, and you've shaped it enough to invoke the spell-

"What now?" Dampe demands.

-and kick off into the air, your land speed lending a little more oomph to your launch. As the Flight Spell takes over, you keep going-

"Wait, what, no-!"

-about as fast as you were moving just a second ago, only this time along a vertical axis instead of a (mostly) horizontal one. As you soar towards the top of the room, the comforting orange-tinted glow of mundane torchlight comes more clearly into view, and as you clear the rim of the platform that the spiral walkway leads to, you see a couple of honest braziers flanking another doorway. This one stands open - if it has a sliding stone slab worked into it at all - and beyond it are another pair of torches, and then after them, a raised dais.

From the lack of exits and the number of Poes hanging around, whispering and waving, you think you've found the finish line. With that in mind, you make a brief vertical arc to bleed off some speed and carry you well away from the edge of the platform before landing, touch down between the first two braziers, and then keep running without missing a beat.

By the time Dampe catches up, you're already waiting for him on the dais, the Poes gathered around, clapping their hands and waving their lanterns in celebration.

"Yaaaay."

"Yaaaay."

"Sorcery ought to be cheating," the old gravekeeper complains.

"Maybe," you reply, "but I AM a sorcerer, and you didn't say anything against it."

The Poes snicker.

"Yes, yes, of COURSE you lot would find that funny - and of COURSE the kid with a fairy would know how to make what was said and what wasn't said work for him." Dampe shakes his haloed head. "The next time somebody challenges me, I'm adding a new rule."

That sounds fair.

While the use of the Haste Spell took quite a bit of the effort off you, and the Flight Spell a bit more, you did get something of a workout in this race.

Gained Breath Control E
Gained Rolling E (Plus) (Plus)

Before you move on to the next challenge, is there anything you want to talk to the old gravekeeper's ghost about?