Glimpse of Eternity [A Reincarnation Isekai Fantasy]

The Spirit Tower had many floors, each serving a specific purpose.

A few of them contained vast spaces that housed cryptid horrors for trainees to face in tests — collectively known as proving grounds. There was also a floor dedicated to observing and controlling certain aspects of the proving grounds, adjusting the difficulty to better suit the skill level of the squad undergoing assessment. Ascendants could innately peek into the majority of the floors in the Tower including any of the proving grounds, but to help any mortal elders in their endeavors to foster the youth, large mirrors were placed all around the room.

On the observation floor, a number of battlemages donning bronze-rimmed robes were buzzing over one particular mirror.

Separated from these bronze cloaks was an elder named Ozran Esteros, the silver cloak assigned to proctor for the first years from time to time.

"I see, so Salwyn is Squad One’s Sigaron..." He rubbed his chin in admiration. His eyes may have been staring at the other elders in the room but his attention was elsewhere. "He's displayed his skill, but I thought it would be the Adamantes boy."

Elder Bernadine giggled from beside him. "You sure like to play favorites, Elder. Do you see yourself in that one? You certainly have your adorable sides."

"You dare tease me, woman?"

"I dare say that I do not. In any case, I thought it would be the Netral girl. Quiet, studious, keeps to herself... Just like how I started, back in the day.”

"I do not recall you being as well-behaved as that one though.” Ozran sneered at her from the side. “Did you not lord your status over everyone? Saying how they should speak carefully around you because you were a scion from the Four Magus families? You were horrible."

Bernadine ignored him, wagging a finger in the air. "I suppose we're both horrible judges of character? We failed to predict which one was the Sigaron."

Ozran scoffed at her before shaking his head. "There were multiple leader candidates in this squad, so it can't be helped. Besides, we should just be happy that the squad produced a Sigaron at all."

Sigaron Harkon.

He was a legendary battlemage from hundreds of years ago and was famed for his leadership skills, which manifested relatively early on.

Now, centuries later, his name was used as a blanket term for the one who steps up during high-pressure situations, especially ones that happen unexpectedly. It didn't mean just anyone, or someone who aimed for the role in the first place.

No, a Sigaron wasn’t such a calculating person.

People, especially those who were used to peace, were weak when placed under sudden pressure. They buckled, and more likely than not, would want to depend on someone else — someone else that seemed like they knew what they were doing. Even people who thought they were good leaders froze in certain situations, risking those under them. Realizing the irreversibility of their actions and the weight of their subordinates' lives might even shatter them completely.

A Sigaron was the complete opposite of that.

Pressure pushed them into action — they thrived in it.

When the stakes were down…

When everything was happening all at once…

They stood out as the people who took charge, with the sole purpose of preserving the group. The privileges of authority and other ulterior motives were the least of their concerns — they knew what truly mattered and did what had to be done.

Of course, their orders and choices weren't always the best.

Decision-making was something that could easily be improved over time and so was skill in sorcery. However, the qualities of a good leader that the Tower valued were incredibly hard to foster in an artificial manner. It was something that came intrinsically, depending on how someone was raised.

Each person who showed those qualities must be nurtured — that was common sense among people like Bernadine and Ozran.

"The Lizeth girl and Targov's boy were expected to underperform..." Ozran cracked a smile despite himself. "But they're doing quite well."

“You’re too harsh on little Kantor. Isn’t he working on his anxiety problems? He’s been following my advice and trying to get out of his shell. He even proactively looked for dueling opportunities to work on his weaknesses. In fact, he did pretty well against Clover last month, he didn’t fumble a single spell. And there were so many people watching too, thanks to certain nosy elders.”

Her words did not go unheard throughout the observation chamber, some elders clearing their throats awkwardly or shamelessly laughing about it.

“Dueling with set rules is hardly enough pressure…” Ozran trailed off, suddenly frowning at the large mirror. “They triggered the giants.”

Bernadine nodded with a forlorn sigh. “It’s because little Clover killed so many at once. Well, he’s not the first person to think of gathering them into a mob and setting them on fire. But it tends to trick the proving grounds into thinking the difficulty is too low.”

“Indeed…”

“Should we pull them out now, Elder? I think they’ve done enough… I don’t like how Clover heroically split off and essentially left his team to themselves. Such things are the domain of knights, not us. But he did take most of the pressure with him and the rest of his squad made it through the rope bridge. I think they deserve to pass on to the squad training stage with this.”

Ozran hummed in thought for a minute, observing Clover run for his life.

Despite the situation, the will to keep going was palpable in the youth. He was constantly keeping stock of his surroundings even while running, trying to come up with a plan.

“Let’s see how they handle the giants first,” he said, as he crossed his arms and shut his eyes, focusing on Squad One’s proving grounds.

Bernadine frowned, unsure if she should agree. “Are you sure?”

“It’s almost dawn. They’d pass regardless. Might as well let them play out the last few minutes.”

“You have a point. But…”

“We should let them have the pleasure of passing legitimately instead of passing because they accidentally triggered something beyond them. Don’t you think so too?”

“Fine, fine, I’m convinced.” Bernadine cracked a smile. “You’re a big softy, Elder. If you were like this normally, you’d be more popular.”

“...Be quiet. I’m trying to focus.”

 

---

 

“Shitshitshitshitshit!” Reivan cursed as he ran through the forest. He was carefully navigating through the sea of trees and foliage, but that was a bit hard to manage since he unconsciously sent frequent glances behind him. Which was, he insisted, a reasonable reaction to being chased by giant fucking zombies.

‘Those ugly bastards have 100 Might. They will outrun me, no matter how slow they look.’

Their legs were longer too, and as undead, they probably had no concerns over stamina.

Fortunately, the ordinary zombies were all but gone now. They weren’t the slow and lumbering kind of zombies like in the movies, but he was relieved to know they weren’t the types that ran at you like madmen. In a sense, they were somewhere in the middle and were prone to breaking themselves from their haphazard way of moving around.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean much, because the ordinary zombies hardly mattered.

“Ah!” Reivan cried out, his foot accidentally getting caught on a root or something. It would have been fine if he hadn't slammed into a tree from losing his balance. He inevitably crashed into the ground, legs burning and lungs begging for air, but he forced himself up and kept running.

‘Goddamnit, maybe I should just let them get me. Fuck this stupid ass test…’

It was going so well too. Until it didn’t. Because of course he couldn't just cruise through the freaky zombie test that a coven of sorcerers put him through.

Reivan continued running for his life though, unwilling to give up. He was Clover Salwyn right now, and for the character he was playing, being a battlemage was both his dream and the only path to a brighter future. Obviously, giving up wasn’t an option, so Reivan couldn’t do so either — not until he’d completely exhausted his options as Clover Salwyn.

Fortunately, Sen was once again proving her worth, leading the way forward. Apparently, she could vaguely track the scents of the others. In particular, the bear’s scent was quite vivid to her, probably because they were both spirit beasts. The tiny blip of light on the tip of her tail was a comforting beacon in the howling darkness of the night.

Suddenly though, she shot something above them with it.

A bird-like cry echoed in Reivan’s ears as something fell to the ground. He barely caught a glimpse of it while passing by and inwardly cursed.

‘Seriously? Zombie crows. Or are they ravens? Shit, where’s Google when you need it…’

Unfortunately, there were more of them coming and they completely ignored Sen.

“Fuck!” Reivan summoned a shield in his right arm and smashed it into an incoming carrion, launching it off to who knew where. “Off!”

He couldn’t afford to get bogged down by the murder of zombie crows, so he summoned both shields and focused on deflecting them as he ran. The extra weight somewhat slowed him down, but it was better than any of the alternatives. Like beak in his eye, for one thing. Or a claw. Hell, a feather could do a lot of damage if they shoved it into his eye at the wrong time. A Resonance Bulwark would have been ideal, but it slowed him down far too much.

Things just kept getting better and better. Just not for him.

“Keep going, Sen!” Reivan called out to the young white panther, who had stopped to check on him. “I’m okay!”

Sen shot another one of the zombie crows — or ravens, honestly he didn’t know the difference, and maybe he also didn't care that much — and resumed following the scent, though she intentionally slowed down so she could help Reivan when he needed it.

They continued navigating through the forest, and at this point, adrenaline was the only thing stopping Reivan from face-planting into the earth from exhaustion. He managed to protect himself well enough with the shields on both arms, but inevitably, some of the ravens got through.

Luckily, they weren’t that strong nor were they heavy, so his battle robes mitigated most of the impact.

Unfortunately, one of them managed to hit him in the back of his head, knocking his glasses off his face — and Clover Salwyn wore those for a reason.

‘I can’t see shit…!’

Through his eyes, all details were nonexistent. Everything was a mix of colors that vaguely resembled shapes, blending into the color right next to them.

Or that was how they should be if he was the real Clover Salwyn.

‘The things I do for acting...’

“Sen, I need help!” Reivan ground to a halt and activated the Resonance Bulwark, shielding him against further obstruction. Loathe as he was to stop, he knew he couldn’t continue without his glasses.

Losing them was a near-fatal handicap considering Clover’s horrendous eyesight. But since it was actually just Reivan fricking Aizenwald — bearer of [Supreme Insight], and by extension, probably the best set of eyes a mortal could ever hope to have — then he could see clearly, as a matter of course. Even putting on a thick pair of glasses, his eyes adjusted to give him perfect vision, something he only realized after shapeshifting into a man with foggy eyeballs.

The problem, was that Clover Salwyn shouldn't be able to see. And so, Reivan would have to stop and get his glasses back because not doing so would be out of character. With how shit Clover's eyesight was, there was absolutely no way the man was making it through this forest without bumping into every single tree in his path.

Sen joined him in the bulwark shortly after and easily pinpointed where the dropped spectacles were. She grabbed it with her tail and trotted over to Reivan.

“Thanks. Good girl!” Reivan roughly ruffled her head as he pushed his glasses back into his face. They were caked with dirt and the right glass was cracked, but they would do. Hell, they'd have to do.

With his eyesight slightly restored, Reivan wasted no time in canceling the bulwark and kicking off the ground. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Sen easily overtook him on account of just being better and led the way as Reivan continued to be pestered by zombie carrion birds. Which was bad, but still manageable, he supposed. Eventually, with a large host of unwanted followers, they made it out of the sea of trees, stopping right before a gaping cliff.

The others were nowhere in sight, causing man and panther to look at each other in confusion.

‘Did they jump down the cliff? That’s actually pretty viable, now that I think about it… Maybe I should do it too?’

It wouldn’t be the first time he did it in Arkhan, that was for sure. He wished he didn't have to do it more than once, though. What the hell was wrong with this place...

“Clover!” voice echoed out from the other side of a chasm, on a similar cliff as the one Reivan stood on. “Look! Here! Hey!”

Reivan looked over at him and the staggering distance between them.

“Bridge! There!” Aldimir yelled at the top of his lungs, pointing to Reivan’s right. “Others! Waiting! Hurry!”

‘A bridge… I guess we aren’t supposed to fail this test after all. There was a way out from the start.’

Reivan quickly surmised that they had likely found the bridge because of Aldimir’s wyvern spirit beast. And even without a flying spirit beast, the bridge also could have been found with scrying. With a path to safety decided, Reivan made a circle with his arms above his head and continued running, Aldimir did the same and followed form the other side.

Unfortunately, blessings didn’t come in pairs but calamities never come alone.

There was a reverberating roar somewhere in the distance and he could vaguely hear trees getting uprooted or outright snapping.

The giants were coming. He was ready to put his hand to the flame if he was wrong.

‘Son of a bitch…’

Reivan soon made it to the aforementioned bridge, which, he noted, was made of rope and wooden planks. It didn’t seem durable, but ironically, it was perfect because of it.

‘The giants can’t use that bridge. And I don’t think they can jump the distance.’

Seeing as the bridge was about a few hundred meters long, the giants needed a lot more than 100 Might to have the jumping power to leap such a great distance. All Reivan had to do was get to the other side and the giants couldn’t do anything. Destroying the bridge so the ordinary zombies never reached them was rather simple too.

Alini’s bear and the lion — which he guessed belonged to Inaria — were fighting off zombies on Reivan’s side of the bridge, heroically stopping the zombies from pursuing the others.

‘Well, they can instantly be retrieved into the orb, so it’s not as cruel as it seems, I guess.’

They also didn’t look like they could fit on the bridge that was only wide enough for one person, so they would have been forced to stay behind or be temporarily useless inside their orbs until the others made it through. Judging by the number of undead strewn around the two spirit beasts, the others must not have had much of a choice, pursued by so many.

“Good boys. Just passing through.” Reivan nodded toward the two spirit beasts and jumped into the rope bridge, hastily crossing it as fast as he could. It was far too shaky and he couldn’t help but doubt its integrity.

If he hadn’t been used to heights, the view below would have been enough to make him pass out. Getting mauled by giant zombies was a much worse fate though, so he hurried as best as he could, regardless of how the bridge swayed with every step.

Unfortunately, the giant hulks of rotten flesh didn’t bother to wait for him, breaking through the treeline just as he reached the bridge’s mid-point. Their hollow eyes spoke of savagery and undying malice, immediately locking on to where Reivan was.

One of them charged forward, slapping the two spirit beasts aside as it, to Reivan’s horror, leaped high into the air.

“I am…” Reivan pushed his dirty glasses up the bridge of his nose in stunned silence as he watched the giant descend toward him. “So screwed.”

He knew that he didn’t have a barrier spell strong enough to endure the force from such a massive pile of rotten muscle and the rope bridge would give out from such an impact anyway, so he decisively forced Sen inside her orb and then jumped to the side, plummeting into the depths of the cavern.

‘I wish all the falling I did only involved love, but nope. Just holes... Wait... Falling in love involves holes too, in a way...’

The silly thoughts bumping around in his head helped ease his nerves. Reivan was, after all, in the middle of being swallowed by the literal abyss. The falling didn’t even bother him as much as the apprehension of what was down there. He looked above him and saw the somewhat amusing sight of a giant zombie spread-eagled in the air but still intent on tearing him apart.

‘Jesus Christ, man. Fuck off already…’

Being stuck in a hospital bed for the majority of his first life meant Reivan didn’t really have much of an education. Though Hanzo and some tutors taught him a few essential things, physics wasn’t really something they delved into.

And as such, Reivan wasn’t sure how long it would take for the much heavier zombie giant to catch up to him, but he did know enough to be sure that it would. It was an eventuality, not a possibility.

The silver rings on Reivan’s right hand glowed in the darkness of the chasm, as he shot a penetration spell at the giant’s head, successfully piercing a hole through it. He already knew that this wasn’t enough to kill it, but he didn’t need to.

After he saw the giant go limp, Reivan immediately activated another spell — the whisperfall spell. Magic coated his body and he instantly decelerated, almost stopping in mid-air. The zombie giant kept falling and passed dangerously close to where he was floating, but his earlier attack meant that it couldn’t capitalize on the opportunity.

‘See ya.’

Reivan watched it get swallowed up by the darkness and waited for the crunch of its body against the bottom of the chasm. But seconds passed and turned into a couple of minutes, yet he heard nothing. That was enough to tell him just how deep the chasm was and why it was so damned dark. Even with his eyes, he still couldn’t see the bottom because of how distant it was.

Or maybe there wasn't a bottom at all? His spine chilled at the thought.

“Elders!” Reivan yelled out in a panic, coming to terms with the fact that there was now nothing he could do. “ELDERS! I give up! I don’t think I can do anything here!”

The spell’s effect would fizzle out soon and he wouldn’t be allowed to recast it on himself for a while.

When he received no response, Reivan started thinking that perhaps he was wrong and this wasn’t some kind of test prepared by the Spirit Tower. “Elders…!? Or anyone! The spell’s running out soon so I’d really like some help here!”

‘Surely they won’t just let me die, right…?’

Like a string pulled taut until it snapped, the spell died and Reivan was suddenly jolted downward as he was sucked into the yawning tunnel to hell.

But then the scenery suddenly changed.

 

---

 

“Urgh!” Reivan face-planted on what felt like a soft mattress. He pulled his face out of the pillow and fixed his glasses, looking around in relieved silence when he realized he wasn't surrounded by demons or devils or eldritch monstrosities with various deepsea creatures for heads.

Instead, he was in some kind of infirmary. A much more promising alternative. Ah, he so missed it when things actually went well.

“Oh, hey! You’re okay!” Aldimir, lying on a bed right next to him, waved with a smile. A white-robed old man was poking his body with a wand, seemingly checking his vitals. “Those giant things really scared the crap out of me. Did you see them jump?”

Reivan sighed and turned over, laying back down on the bed. “Yeah… I was there, remember?”

“Man, you’re just a bright bundle of sunshine, ain’t ya? Anyway, the girls are fine too — or they were, last time I saw them. As for Kantor, he vomited a few times because some gunk got in his mouth, but I think he’ll be okay. He’s passed out over there."

“That’s good.”

"The gunk is still there too, mixed with barf.”

"Not okay."

“I’m fine too, by the way. Thanks for asking. You’re the best friend anyone can have, man.”

“With all the yapping you just did, I’d be worried if you weren’t okay.” Reivan grinned and sat up when prompted by a nearby elder, also wearing white robes. It was his turn to get poked with the wand now. “So it really was a test, huh…?”

Aldimir grunted in agreement. “Yeah. I got that eventually too, but when you’re in the moment… Y’know? You just kind of forget the part that it’s a test. But anyway, those rotting things? I never wanna see another one of those in my life…”

“Don’t worry, I think those were just for the test. We have to fight monsters and people instead.”

“Great. Guess who's not sleeping after this. Just a clue, it starts with Ald and ends with imir.”

They both chuckled, completely drained from the experience. The elders examining them silently let them talk and left just as silently when they finished. Aldimir and Reivan were both too tired to care about why they didn’t say a thing.

“Good work, boys.” Elder Bernadine suddenly appeared out of nowhere, bouncing up and down on her heels with a big smile. “You did very well.”

Aldimir’s shoulders jumped from the sudden intrusion, but he tried to hide it with a fake cough. “Hello, Elder. I’d like to lodge a formal complaint for the sleepless nights I’ll suffer after this.”

“Complaint rejected,” Bernadine announced in a sing-song voice and sat down on a nearby stool. “In any case, I’d like to inform you that you’ll be moving on to the next stage of training. The people you were with during the trial will be your squadmates. A second year will be assigned as captain, with Clover as the vice-captain.”

“Eh?” Reivan pointed at himself, stunned.

“Elder!” Aldimir raised a hand. “Can I ask a question?”

“You just did, dear.” Bernadine giggled before nodding. “But yes, you can ask another one.”

“Uh, thank you… You said at orientation that we’ll be squadding up in six months. It’s only been one month, but we’re already doing it?”

“That was the case if you kept failing. But you did very well in this assessment and you’ve all learned the basic spells we asked you. There’s no need to hold you back. We'll fast-track you if you have the ability.”

Reivan cleared his throat. “Uhm, Elder. About being vice-captain…”

“It’s non-negotiable, Brother Salwyn.” Bernadine cut him off with a smile before turning back to Aldimir. “Don’t worry. Even if you’re squadding up already, you still won’t be given any missions you can’t handle. Your first year is more about getting you used to things. And for your second-year captain, it's to develop their leadership skills.”

“Non-negotiable…” Reivan echoed with a frustrated sigh, earning another giggle from the elder.

“That’s all for now,” she said, clapping her hands with finality. “In any case, there’s apparently nothing wrong with you but you should stay here and rest. Once you wake up, you’ll be returned to the Mess Hall.”

Leaving those words behind, Elder Bernadine vanished.

“Well, I’m gonna take her advice and pass out.” Aldimir laid back down, pulling the covers over his body and curling up with his back to Reivan. Apparently, the exhaustion was enough to forget their nightmarish experience with the undead. “Oh, and by the way…”

Aldimir turned around with a shit-eating grin.

“I forgot to congratulate you, vice-captain. Congrats.”

“...Fuck you. Go to sleep. Forever.”