The days at the Golden Dragon Sect passed slowly, each one filled with lessons, training, and cultivation. Yuto had made remarkable progress in his first few days, his connection with his Qi becoming stronger by the day. The meditative exercises, though difficult, were starting to pay off. He could now feel the flow of energy within his body with greater clarity, and each breath he took seemed to resonate with the power of the world around him.
But as the days wore on, a new challenge presented itself. One that wasn't as simple as focusing his mind or channeling his Qi. It was a test of his will.
Yuto had heard the elders whispering about it, their conversations filled with veiled references to a trial that all new disciples must face. A trial not just of strength, but of endurance, mental fortitude, and the ability to overcome the self-doubt that lurked in every cultivator's heart.
That day arrived sooner than Yuto had expected.
He was summoned to the central courtyard, where the other disciples had gathered, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and wariness. The silver-haired elder was standing in front of a large, ancient stone archway, its surface carved with intricate runes that seemed to shimmer in the fading light of the day.
"This is the Trial of Will," the elder explained, her voice echoing through the courtyard. "It is not a physical test, but a mental one. You will face the deepest, darkest parts of your mind—the fears, the regrets, the doubts that reside within you. The trial will manifest them as real, tangible challenges. To pass, you must confront and overcome these illusions. Only by conquering your own mind will you be able to move forward on your path to cultivation."
Yuto's heart began to race as he stepped forward, the weight of the elder's words sinking in. The Trial of Will. He had heard whispers of it from the other disciples, but no one had ever spoken of it in detail. What did it mean to face your own mind? What kind of challenges would he encounter?
He glanced at Kaito, the disciple he had fought in his previous trial. Kaito's expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of sympathy, or perhaps respect. The silver-haired elder motioned for Yuto to approach the archway.
"Step forward, Yuto," she said. "The trial begins now."
Yuto swallowed hard but nodded. He had come this far, and he wasn't about to back down now. He walked toward the archway, each step heavier than the last. When he stood before it, he hesitated for just a moment, feeling a cold chill creep over his skin. The air around the archway was thick with an ancient energy, one that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
Without warning, a brilliant light flashed from the archway, and in the next instant, everything around Yuto went dark.
He stumbled forward, his heart pounding in his chest. The world had vanished, leaving him suspended in an endless void. There was no ground beneath his feet, no sky above him—only an oppressive, suffocating darkness.
He tried to breathe, but the air felt heavy, as though it was pushing against his lungs. His thoughts raced as he searched for any sense of direction, but there was nothing. Nothing but the eerie silence of the void.
And then, it began.
A voice echoed through the darkness, deep and resonant, filled with a strange power. "Yuto... you think you have come far. But you are nothing more than a child playing at power. You will never be more than a mere shadow of the true warriors who came before you."
Yuto's blood ran cold. The voice was familiar, but not in a way he could place. It was a voice from his past, from his memories—a voice that spoke with the authority of someone who knew his deepest fears.
The darkness around him shifted, and suddenly, the air grew warm. Before him stood a figure, cloaked in shadows. The figure's face was hidden beneath a dark hood, but there was no mistaking the presence that exuded from it. Yuto's breath caught in his throat. The figure looked like him—like a distorted version of himself.
"You are weak," the figure said, its voice dripping with contempt. "You always have been. Your power is nothing but a fleeting spark, destined to fade away like the rest of the pathetic mortals in this world."
Yuto's fists clenched at his sides. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. His Saiyan blood flared with anger, a fire igniting in his chest. "I'm not weak. I've overcome more than you could ever understand."
The figure laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "Overcome? You've barely scratched the surface of your true potential. You are nothing more than a broken tool, trying to fit into a world that doesn't care about you."
The words hit harder than any blow. The figure's words were like knives, each one cutting deeper into Yuto's soul. Doubt began to creep into his heart, and for the first time since his arrival in the cultivation world, he questioned himself. Was he really strong enough? Was he really destined for greatness, or was he just another failure, a pathetic imitation of something greater?
The figure took a step forward, and with it, the darkness seemed to grow even more oppressive. "You will never be a true warrior. You will always be an outsider, never fitting in. Your blood, your power—it doesn't belong here."
Yuto's mind flashed back to his old life. To his family, to the life he had lost. He had always felt like an outsider, even before the transmigration. The world of cultivation was just another place where he didn't belong, wasn't it? He had no true roots here, no family to fall back on. What was he really fighting for?
The figure reached out, its shadowy hand grazing his face. "You will always be alone. You will never find peace. You will never be accepted."
Yuto's heart tightened, the weight of the words almost suffocating him. But then, through the pain, a realization sparked within him. No matter how many times he had fallen or doubted himself, he had always gotten back up. He was a Saiyan. He was built to overcome. His strength didn't come from where he was, but from who he was—someone who refused to surrender.
He clenched his fists, feeling the surge of power rise from within. "I'm not alone. And I'll never stop fighting. I may not belong here, but I will carve my own place in this world. I will be the one to decide my fate."
The figure recoiled, its expression shifting from mockery to fear. The darkness began to retreat, the oppressive weight lifting from his chest. Yuto stood tall, his heart steady as his Saiyan blood burned with determination.
The figure screamed, dissolving into the darkness. And with that, the trial was over.
Yuto's eyes snapped open. He was back in the courtyard, the warm light of the setting sun casting long shadows over the ground. The other disciples were watching him closely, but Yuto barely noticed them. His heart was still pounding from the intensity of the trial, but a sense of calm had settled within him. He had faced his doubts and fears—and he had overcome them.
The elder stood before him, her expression unreadable. "You have passed the Trial of Will. You have shown the strength to face your deepest fears and rise above them."
Yuto took a deep breath, his hands still trembling slightly, but he felt something different now. He had learned something important. Strength wasn't just about power—it was about overcoming the darkness within, the doubts that could so easily consume him.
"I'm not done yet," Yuto said, his voice steady. "I'll keep moving forward. I'll make my own path."
The elder nodded, her eyes softening just slightly. "Good. Your journey has only just begun. But remember this, Yuto: true strength comes from within. Never forget that."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Yuto turned and walked forward, his heart full of purpose. The world was vast, and his journey was far from over. But for the first time, he was certain of one thing—he would shape his own future, no matter what challenges lay ahead.