Aamir's determination burned brighter as he ascended the spiraling staircase to the fifth floor. His body ached from the battles, his muscles strained from the constant exertion. Yet, each step forward felt like a triumph against the odds. The air grew denser with spiritual energy, wrapping around him like an invisible cloak. He knew the challenges ahead would only escalate.
The fifth floor was a vast desert. Sand stretched endlessly in every direction, dunes rising and falling like waves. Aamir shielded his eyes from the blazing sun that hung overhead, its light almost too bright to bear. The spirit of this floor emerged from the sands, a massive figure clad in golden armor. It wielded a spear that crackled with lightning, and its mere presence exuded dominance.
"Another test," Aamir muttered, his fists clenching.
The spirit wasted no time. It charged at him with lightning speed, the spear crackling as it sliced through the air. Aamir dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike, but the ground beneath him exploded, sending him tumbling.
The battle was relentless. Every move Aamir made, the spirit countered with precision. Each clash of their energies created shockwaves that tore through the desert landscape.
Aamir gritted his teeth, summoning every ounce of adrenaline energy he had. His movements became sharper, more fluid, as he began to match the spirit's rhythm. After an intense exchange, he managed to knock the spear from its grasp and deliver a powerful blow to its chest. The spirit staggered before disintegrating into a burst of light.
Exhausted, Aamir collapsed onto the sand, gasping for air. The staircase to the sixth floor materialized in the distance, a shimmering mirage that beckoned him forward.
The campus was now unrecognizable, transformed into a bustling hub of activity. Merchants shouted over one another, trying to attract customers to their stalls. Performers entertained the growing crowd with acrobatics and magic tricks. The excitement for the tournament was palpable.
Navin stood at the center of the arena, overseeing the final preparations. His piercing gaze scanned the bustling scene. Everything had to be perfect. The Battle of the Grand Selection wasn't just a competition; it was a spectacle that showcased the strength and unity of Nalanda University.
He turned to Aafreen, who stood nearby. "Still no sign of Aamir?"
Aafreen shook her head, her white hair glinting in the sunlight. "No. It's been four days now. Wherever he is, he's cutting it close."
Navin frowned. "He'd better show up. The boy has potential, but potential means nothing if he doesn't act on it."
Aamir pushed open the door to the sixth floor, stepping into a realm of absolute darkness. He couldn't see his own hands in front of him. The silence was deafening, every step he took echoing unnaturally.
"This place feels... different," he muttered, his voice swallowed by the void.
Suddenly, two glowing red eyes appeared in the distance, followed by the faint outline of a monstrous figure. The spirit of this floor was a shadowy beast, its form constantly shifting. It attacked without warning, its claws swiping at Aamir with blinding speed.
Aamir's instincts took over. He dodged and countered, but fighting in complete darkness was disorienting. The spirit blended seamlessly with its surroundings, making it nearly impossible to predict its movements.
"This won't work," Aamir thought. He closed his eyes, relying on his heightened senses to track the spirit's presence. Slowly, he began to anticipate its attacks, countering with precision.
The battle was long and grueling, but Aamir's determination didn't waver. Finally, with a surge of energy, he delivered a decisive strike, piercing through the spirit's form. The darkness lifted, and the path to the seventh floor appeared.
By the third day, the crowd had swelled to unprecedented numbers. People from all walks of life had gathered, their excitement filling the air.
Riya stood near a group of students, watching as preparations for the opening ceremony began. Despite the festive atmosphere, she couldn't shake the worry gnawing at her. "Aamir," she whispered, "where are you?"
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of laughter nearby. Turning, she saw a group of students sparring, their confidence evident. "Let's hope he shows up," one of them said. "Wouldn't want him to miss his own chance at glory."
The seventh floor was unlike any of the previous ones. It was a serene meadow, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers. At its center stood a lone figure—a humanoid spirit radiating immense power. This was the final test, and Aamir could feel the weight of its presence.
The spirit turned to face him, its eyes glowing with wisdom and power. It didn't speak, but its stance conveyed everything. This was a battle not just of strength but of resolve.
Aamir charged, his adrenaline energy flaring brightly. The spirit met him head-on, their clash sending ripples through the air. The spirit's techniques were flawless, its strikes precise and devastating. Aamir struggled to keep up, each blow pushing him closer to his limits.
Then, in the heat of battle, something within Aamir shifted. His adrenaline energy surged, and he felt the breakthrough—a rush of power as his meridians expanded. From 99, he unlocked all the way to 105 meridians. The energy coursing through him was overwhelming, but he harnessed it, using it to push back against the spirit.
With newfound strength, Aamir launched a series of devastating attacks, finally overpowering the spirit. It staggered, then fell, dissipating into light.
Before he could catch his breath, another figure appeared. This spirit was different, its presence even more profound. "I am not here to fight," it said, its voice calm yet commanding. "Not yet. But one day, when you need to grow stronger, return here. I will be waiting."
Aamir watched in stunned silence as the spirit disappeared. Exhausted but victorious, he descended the staircase.
When Aamir stepped outside, he was greeted by chaos. The campus was teeming with people, and the energy was electric. He felt disoriented; it had only been hours for him, but outside, four days had passed.
He stopped a passing student. "Hey, what's going on? Why is there such a crowd?"
The boy looked at him in shock. "Aamir? Where have you been? You've been missing for four days! Aren't you entering the tournament?"
Aamir's eyes widened. "Four days? I was only in the tower for a few hours!"
The boy laughed nervously. "That's the thing. Time works differently in the tower. One day outside is only an hour inside."
Panic gripped Aamir. "Has the tournament started?"
"No, but it's about to."
Without another word, Aamir took off, his exhaustion forgotten. The tournament was waiting, and he wasn't going to miss it.