The dawn over Pangaea did not bring the warmth of the sun, but a shimmering, prismatic light that reflected off the city's gravity-glass towers. For the students of the Apex Institute, morning began with the rhythmic ringing of the Bell of Ascent, a sound that signaled the start of the most grueling test for new initiates: The Trial of the First Harvest.
Konja stood at the edge of the Sky-Pier, looking up. Floating thousands of feet above the Behemoth's back were the Floating Orchards of Aeolus. These were not gardens in the traditional sense; they were massive chunks of anti-gravity rock, held in place by ancient Prana-chains, where the air was thin and the vegetation was sentient.
"Listen up, Provisional Trash!" a voice boomed. It was Instructor Grog, a man who looked as if he had been carved out of granite and then dressed in a drill sergeant's uniform. "The goal is simple. You have three hours to retrieve a single Sky-Citrus from the highest cluster. The fruit is guarded by Aether-Wasps and the terrain itself. If you fall, the safety-nets will catch you, but your dignity—and your enrollment—will be gone."
Beside Konja, Mina checked the straps on her apothecary bag. "The air up there is saturated with Wind-Element Prana. It'll make our movements faster, but it'll also make our techniques harder to control. One wrong burst of heat, and we'll overshoot the platforms."
"Just stay behind me," Renzo said, his Leaf-Blight clicking its scythes. "I can cut the wind-resistance for the group."
"Not this time, Renzo," Cassian Valere said, stepping onto the pier with his Golden-Tier team. "The Harvest is a solo-priority trial. You can climb together, but only one fruit per team counts for the ranking. And believe me, the best fruit is guarded by the Storm-Sentinels."
The Ascent into the Blue
With a signal from Grog, the trial began. Konja didn't hesitate. He summoned Zale, and together they leaped onto the first floating stone.
The gravity was erratic. On one platform, Konja felt like he weighed a thousand pounds; on the next, a slight hop sent him soaring twenty feet into the air. He had to use his Umami-Balance to constantly adjust his center of gravity, shifting his internal Prana to match the fluctuating pull of the rocks.
"Zale, stay close!" Konja shouted over the whistling wind.
The indigo fox was in his element. He leaped from rock to rock with feline grace, his paws crackling with static that seemed to anchor him to the magnetic minerals in the stones.
As they reached the mid-tier, the first obstacles appeared. The Aether-Wasps—creatures the size of hunting dogs with translucent wings and stingers that dripped with paralyzing liquid—swarmed from the hollows of the floating trees.
"Frost-Style: Glacial Veil!"
From a platform above, Kalia Frost (who had accompanied the delegation as a junior proctor) unleashed a wave of cold that slowed the wasps, but she wasn't allowed to help the students directly. "Use the environment, Konja!" she yelled down.
Konja looked at the swaying vines of the Grip-Willow trees. He grabbed a vine, spinning himself in a wide arc. "Munka-Style: Centrifugal Sear!"
He released a pulse of heat into the vine, turning it into a whip of energy that batted away the wasps. He wasn't trying to kill them; he was clearing a path.
The Storm-Sentinel's Domain
The higher they climbed, the colder and thinner the air became. The lush greenery of the lower orchards gave way to silver-leafed trees that hummed with electricity. This was the domain of the Sky-Citrus, a fruit that looked like a glowing blue orange, pulsing with raw lightning.
But standing between Konja and the fruit was a Storm-Sentinel. This wasn't a living creature, but a construct made of cloud-matter and obsidian armor, shaped like a four-armed titan.
"I'll handle the tin-man!" Tali shouted, appearing on a neighboring rock. She slammed her tonfas together. "Spice-Fist: Searing Meteor!"
She launched herself at the Sentinel, her strikes landing with the sound of thunder. But the Sentinel was made of air; her hits passed through the cloud-body, only to be met by the obsidian plates on the other side.
"It's a conductor!" Mina realized, watching from below. "Tali, stop! Your heat is just feeding its lightning!"
The Sentinel roared, a sound of grinding static, and unleashed a massive bolt of blue energy. It hit Tali's platform, shattering the rock. Tali began to fall.
"Tali!" Konja screamed.
He didn't think. He leaped into the open air, a move that should have been suicide. "Fourth Gate: Eternal Hearth—Full Burst!"
Konja's aura flared white-hot. He used the heat as a propulsion system, a technique he had only practiced in his head. He caught Tali mid-air, his hand gripping her arm as Zale bit onto his gi, acting as a secondary anchor.
Konja slammed the Heavens-Seared Cleaver-Blade into the side of a floating mountain. The Star-Iron bit deep, sparks flying as they skidded along the rock face before coming to a stop.
"You're heavy," Konja wheezed, his muscles screaming.
"And you're a show-off," Tali panted, her face pale but her eyes full of fire. "Now get me back up there so I can punch that cloud in the face."
The Recipe for Lightning
Konja looked at the Sentinel. He saw the way the lightning moved through its body. It followed a specific pattern—a recipe of energy.
"Renzo, Mina—give me a cross-wind!" Konja commanded.
Renzo's Leaf-Blight began to spin, creating a localized cyclone that drew the Sentinel's cloud-matter toward the center. Mina threw a handful of Grounding-Salts, the fine powder coating the Sentinel's obsidian plates.
"Now, Zale!"
Konja didn't use fire this time. He used the Fifth Pillar: Umami Balance. He reached out and touched the Sentinel's chest. He didn't push; he pulled. He acted as a bridge, allowing the Sentinel's excess lightning to flow through his body and into the Star-Iron blade.
The Sentinel flickered, its form destabilizing as its "seasoning" was stripped away. With a final, silent pop, the construct dissolved into a harmless mist.
The First Harvest
Konja climbed the final silver-leafed tree. Hanging at the very top was the most radiant Sky-Citrus he had ever seen. It felt warm to the touch, vibrating with a gentle, rhythmic hum.
He plucked it.
As his hand closed around the fruit, a chime echoed across the entire city of Pangaea. The trial was over.
Konja stood at the summit, the wind whipping his indigo gi. He looked down at the city, at the thousands of students watching from below. He wasn't a "Provisional" anymore. He was a Munka, and he had just claimed the highest prize in the Academy's first test.
Cassian Valere landed on a nearby platform, his own Sky-Citrus in hand. He looked at Konja's fruit—which was noticeably larger and brighter—and then at Konja himself.
"The basement is going to be very crowded tonight," Cassian said, his voice holding a hint of genuine respect. "Enjoy your victory, Konja. But the Trial of the Harvest is just the appetizer. The Grand Banquet of Blades is where the real cutting begins."
The Feast of Champions
That evening, the Obsidian Dormitory was transformed. Konja didn't just hand the Sky-Citrus to the instructors; he used it.
He spent the night cooking a Lightning-Glazed Sky-Tart for the entire basement tier. The fruit's electricity was tempered by the honey-like sap of the Grip-Willows, creating a dish that didn't just fill the stomach—it recharged the spirit.
As the students of the lower tier ate, their fatigue vanished. Their bruises healed. They looked at Konja not just as a classmate, but as a leader.
"To the Munka!" Renzo toasted, raising a glass of fermented herb-tea.
"To Oakhaven!" the others roared.
Konja sat back, watching the laughter and the camaraderie. He knew that tomorrow the training would get harder. He knew that the Vane family might have allies here. He knew that the Behemoth beneath them was restless.
But as he tasted the Sky-Citrus, he felt the Fifth Gate creaking. He wasn't just a cook, and he wasn't just a warrior. He was becoming the bridge between the two. And in the vertical city of Pangaea, that bridge was the only thing that would keep them from falling.