The Third Trial

When Vegeta walked back from the edge of the arena to the spectator area, his steps were half as slow as usual. The Deep Blue aura had completely withdrawn, leaving only a faint silver-blue radiance quietly flowing over his skin—the lingering glow left behind after Instinctive Destruction completed its initial evolution. The right shoulder of his battle suit had been torn open by the trialist's final strike, exposing lean muscle and several abrasions that were already healing. Bulma sent over a string of vital-sign data from the fleet command cabin: heart rate, blood pressure, and degree of muscle damage were all flagged red. Yet she only said, "As long as you're not dead," before continuing to monitor the energy fluctuations in the trial grounds.

"Your ki changed." Son Goku tilted his head as he watched Vegeta approach. "Not the stronger kind of changed—it's steadier. Your ki used to be like a pile of gunpowder ready to explode at any moment. Now it's like a piece of steel that's been compressed for a long time."

"Cut the crap." Vegeta dropped onto the stone platform in the spectator area, took the water flask Krillin handed him, and gulped down a mouthful. He wiped the sweat and blood from his face with a towel. His breathing remained heavy, but the light in his eyes was brighter than ever. The process of having his defenses repeatedly shattered by the trialist in the arena, only to rise again and again, had allowed him to touch upon a level he had never reached before—not the upper limit of strength, but its lower limit. Not a thread of ki was wasted in every punch. Every strike was precise down to the sequence in which his muscle fibers contracted. The sensation was so new that he was still adapting to it, but he knew it was right.

"The second trial is called 'Ultimate Strength.'" Ji Ming leaned against the edge of the energy barrier around the spectator area, flipping through the trial-ground analysis Bulma had just sent over. "But its core isn't making you stronger—it's teaching you how to use the strength you already possess. Every time your defenses were broken, it was because your ki and your body were struggling against each other. Once you started letting your body move on its own, your attack precision increased by at least twofold."

Vegeta did not answer. He merely lowered his head and looked at his open palm. The Deep Blue aura had already vanished, but his palm still retained the sensation of delivering that final blow. That strike had been entirely different from his previous attacks—there had been almost no charging process, no interference from conscious thought. The instant his body sensed an opening, it automatically completed every motion of the attack. This was Instinctive Destruction. Not the passive evasion of Ultra Instinct, but making one's attacks so precise they could not be defended against.

The tremor running through the trial grounds interrupted his thoughts.

That endless dark-red energy barrier appeared once more at the end of the passage, heavier and more intense than before. The golden patterns rolling across its surface were denser than when Vegeta had faced it, and their paths were no longer simply ancient Saiyan inscriptions. They were interspersed with an even older symbolic system—triangular bands of light and spiral dark patterns nested layer upon layer, like some code sealed away for billions of years. On the stone platform before the barrier, the inscription for the third trial slowly emerged in the glow of green flames.

[Third Trial: Ultimate Spirit. Only those who let go of their obsession with power may continue onward.]

"Let go of one's obsession with power?" Krillin set the water flask aside, stood up, and walked to the stone platform to read the line again. "What does that mean? Who among us is the most obsessed with power? Vegeta was just tested. Goku, you don't really seem like—you train because you enjoy it, not because you're greedy for power."

"It isn't talking about greed." Ji Ming watched the golden patterns churn across the barrier, his voice soft. "Obsession can take any form—an attachment to victory, an attachment to protecting others, an attachment to surpassing yourself, even an attachment to the act of 'letting go of obsession' itself. The essence of obsession is not desire. It is hanging your heart upon something and refusing to let go. It can be greed, but it can also be love, responsibility, or anything you feel 'must be this way.'"

The golden patterns on the barrier began to flash. Just as before Vegeta accepted his trial, an invisible force of perception flowed from deep within the barrier, slowly passing over everyone present like liquid mercury. Everyone felt that scanning sensation—it was neither cold nor warm, more like a breeze without temperature, carrying an ancient scrutiny. The perceptive force paused briefly over each person before moving on. When it swept over Son Goku, his fingers twitched unconsciously. Krillin instinctively held his breath. Vegeta's silver-blue radiance automatically shrank by an inch.

At last, the perceptive force stopped on Krillin.

He instinctively straightened his back. Among this group of Saiyans and Namekian warriors, Krillin had long grown accustomed to being "the weakest point of reference." It was not self-deprecation—it was fact. Vegeta's Deep Blue Form could blast through Toppo's defenses. The silver-white glow of Ultra Instinct was already a pass into the realm of the gods. Piccolo's Special Beam Cannon could even improve ancient Namekian sealing arts into anti-invisibility formations. And Krillin? At the Tournament of Power, his strongest technique, the Destructo Disc, had not even been able to break through Universe 1's divine protective ki. Against Jiren, his Solar Flare had been casually swatted aside. He participated in the Tournament of Power because Universe 7 needed ten people. He joined this trial-ground expedition because Ji Ming had said, "The more familiar ki signatures we have present, the more stable the team's correction effect will be."

He was just an ordinary Earthling.

And yet, an ordinary Earthling had stood among Saiyans and Namekian warriors, endured Frieza, Cell, Majin Buu, Gods of Destruction, and the Tournament of Power, and had never fallen behind. That was the truly remarkable thing.

"Me?" Krillin pointed at his own nose, his voice half a pitch higher than usual. "Are you sure you didn't get this wrong? I was just thinking that this time, I finally wouldn't have to fight—Vegeta just finished, Goku's in great condition, and if that doesn't work, there's still Piccolo and Nail's dual seal. How could it possibly be my turn?"

The perceptive force in the trial grounds did not move away. It remained on Krillin longer than it had on anyone else, as if confirming something. The golden patterns on the barrier began to flash more rapidly, and the stone platform beneath the monument slowly rose, revealing a palm-shaped stone seat identical to the previous ones.

Krillin swallowed, looking first at Ji Ming and then at Son Goku. Son Goku gave him a smile—not his usual goofy grin, but a serious, trusting one. Ji Ming nodded at him and said something Krillin remembered for a long time: "It didn't choose the strongest person. It chose the most suitable one. What it sees is more than combat power numbers."

"All right." Krillin rubbed his nose, took a deep breath, walked to the stone platform, and pressed his palm onto it.

The process of having his consciousness drawn into the void was exactly as Ji Ming had described. There was no pain, no dizziness. His vision merely went black, and when he opened his eyes again, he was standing in an endless dark-gold space. There was no ground beneath his feet, yet every step landed on solid support, as though he were walking on invisible glass. There was no sky overhead, but cool white light poured down evenly from every direction, casting no shadows. A humanoid form condensed from trial energy floated before him. Unlike the one Vegeta had faced, this figure was not even two meters tall, only slightly taller than Krillin himself. Dark-red flames of light flowed slowly over its body, and whenever they passed across its shoulders, several thin lines of deep gold flashed into view.

"Trialist Krillin, welcome."

"You know my name." Krillin tried to keep his voice from sounding too nervous.

"All consciousnesses that enter the trial domain are recorded. This is the third trial—Ultimate Spirit." The trialist paused. The ancient echo in its voice was like aftershocks rising from the depths of the earth's crust. "The second trial tested how strength is used. The third trial tests—how you face your strength itself."

"My strength?" Krillin unconsciously clenched his fist. "In your eyes, my strength probably isn't worth mentioning. I'm the weakest warrior on Universe 7's team, and perhaps the weakest challenger in this trial ground's entire history. Are you sure you didn't choose the wrong person?"

"Whether it is wrong or right, you will know when the trial ends."

The trialist raised its right arm, palm facing upward. Dark-red particles of light rose from its palm and gathered in midair, forming an enormous circular mirror of light. Chaotic gray mist roiled across the mirror's surface. Slowly, the mist parted, revealing a scene Krillin knew better than anything.

Kame House. It was Kame House from when he had first become a disciple. At the time, he was only five years old. His bald head still bore red marks from the sun, and he wore an oversized orange training uniform whose sleeves had been rolled up several times yet still drooped below his wrists. Master Roshi stood before him, sunlight glaring off his sunglasses. He tapped the ground with his cane, his voice old yet resonant—"Krillin, why do you want to learn martial arts?"

The little Krillin in the image puffed out his chest and shouted in his childish voice, "I want to get stronger! I want everyone to know that I'm the strongest martial artist!"

The trialist said nothing. The scene in the mirror began to flow rapidly, like slides accelerated thousands of times. Krillin saw the first time he met Son Goku, when the two children competed in a race on Kame House's beach; he lost badly, but refused to admit it. He saw his first World Martial Arts Tournament, where a stinky monk defeated him with incredibly underhanded tricks, leaving him bawling his eyes out in the ring. He saw himself climbing to the top of Korin Tower to snatch the Ultra Divine Water, chased all over the tower by its guardian and nearly pierced by a steel spear each time. He saw himself standing in front of Son Gohan when the Saiyans arrived, his hands clenched into fists while his entire body trembled. He saw himself glance back at Bulma before flying up to face Frieza on Namek—he had thought he was flying to his death, but he went anyway. He saw Android 18 calling his name behind him as he leaped down from Kami's Lookout during the Cell Games. He saw himself kneeling amid ruins during the battle with Majin Buu, stuffing a Senzu Bean into Son Goku's hand, his hand shaking uncontrollably but never retreating even half a step. He saw the moment Universe 7 was completely suppressed by Universe 1 at the Tournament of Power, when he and the others stood at the very front and withstood the descending rush of divine ki, even though the gap in combat power was so vast that they could barely remain standing.

The scene froze on the final frame. It was before the stands of the erased Universe 4 crumbled apart. Krillin stood at the edge of the arena, still holding the pose of having just thrown a Destructo Disc, with a boundless abyss of nothingness beside him. Once the image froze, the trialist's voice rang out in the depths of his mind once more.

"Krillin. Your original desire for strength was to become the strongest. Yet every battle afterward was not fought for yourself—you died for your friends, lived for your friends, and climbed back from the brink of death for your friends time and again. Yet over these decades, you have never stopped believing that you are 'too weak.' Even at the Tournament of Power, while facing the pressure of the Three Seats of the Divine Clan, you still stood on the front line. Now I ask you—between your obsession with pursuing strength and your feelings for your friends, which is your foundation?"

Krillin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He lowered his head to look at his hands reflected beneath the mirror of light. Those hands did not bear the same marks of battle as any Saiyan's, nor were their knuckles covered in thick calluses. But these hands had held Son Gohan while fleeing a mudslide. They had handed Son Goku the last Senzu Bean before Namek exploded. They had stood before Android 18 in the face of the Androids. They had accompanied Son Goku through the darkest stretch within Buu's stomach. These hands had never existed because of strength. They existed because of the people who needed them.

"Neither." Krillin raised his head and looked directly into the trialist's eyes. The mirror of light slowly shattered behind him into countless tiny particles, yet he seemed to have completely forgotten how powerful his opponent was. "My foundation isn't the pursuit of strength, and it isn't the desire to protect my friends—it's my friends themselves. Goku treated me like a brother from the very beginning. Gohan and Piccolo see me as a comrade they can entrust their backs to. Android 18 placed the trust she rarely gives anyone else in me. Even Marron learned to tell me, 'Daddy, be careful.' I don't want to be the strongest, and I don't want to be some kind of hero. I just want to go back to Kame House after the fighting is over and see Android 18 hanging blankets in the yard, Marron crouched on the beach collecting shells, and Goku and Piccolo sitting at the dinner table waiting for me to serve the meal. For those things, I can become countless times stronger than I am now. Not to surpass anyone, but because those people need me to return."

The trialist remained silent for a long time. Then it slowly descended, dropped to one knee, and bowed its head to Krillin. The light throughout the dark-gold space flashed at once, like some star deep in the universe, constant for ages, suddenly renewing one beat of its pulse.

"Trial passed. To face your own strength, accept your own limitations, and yet not give up moving forward because of them—this is Ultimate Spirit."

The trialist dissolved from its feet upward into fine dark-red particles of light, drifting toward some destination in the void that Krillin could not see. He stood alone in the spectator area as it gradually darkened, the surroundings so quiet that he could hear the echo of his own heartbeat. After a long while, he suddenly clenched his fist and swung it at the air, then covered his mouth and chuckled twice.

"This is unbelievable. I'm just an Earthling, but I passed a trial that even Saiyans and Namekians couldn't pass. If Android 18 finds out—no, I can't say too much when I get back. She'll definitely say I'm getting too cocky." His throat tightened a little. He lowered his head and rubbed his nose for a long time, but in the end, he could not help smiling.

Ji Ming and the others came forward to meet him. Krillin's steps were much lighter than usual as he walked back from the spectator area toward the group, but halfway there, he returned to his usual sheepish expression. Rubbing his bald head, he joked self-deprecatingly that he had done nothing but stand there and be examined for half the day, and after a round of psychological interrogation, they had simply announced that he had passed. Piccolo patted him on the shoulder. That simple gesture made Krillin stop joking around. Vegeta leaned against the stone pillar at the very back and gave a low snort, but did not argue.

"The third trial has also been passed." Ji Ming turned toward the dark-red barrier that had reappeared at the end of the passage. The stone platform rose according to the same rhythm as before, revealing the fourth inscription. "Make full preparations for the coming tests. Bulma, archive all data on Krillin's consciousness fluctuations during the trial. This data is crucial to our study of the trial ground's selection logic."

Bulma's voice came through the wristband. "It's already recording. Did he mention my name in there just now?"

"No," Ji Ming answered honestly.

"Damn it."

Laughter briefly swept away the silence of the trial grounds. Ji Ming lowered his head to look at the fourth inscription rising from the stone platform. The Crimson-Gold Light Core within him gave off an extremely faint resonance, clearer than any before, closer to his heartbeat.