Atticus stared at the stairs for a long moment, thinking. Past experience had taught him that delaying trials rarely changed the outcome when he eventually faced them.
The nature of the next trial was completely unknown. He could choose to strengthen himself further before attempting it, but what if the katana stripped him of all his powers the moment it began?
In the end, he could only rely on himself and his mind. Nothing else.
And for what was coming, he needed as much strength as he could possibly gather.
Atticus exhaled slowly, feeling an absolute calm settle over him.
'Let's get this over with.'
He stepped toward the base of the stairs, curling his fist as he placed a foot down.
Nothing happened.
A small sense of relief went through him. It seemed he wouldn't be forced into a trial just by climbing.
He lifted his other leg, stepping fully onto the first stair, and was about to take his second step when a sudden, crushing weight slammed down on him.
