Desolate Mage: A Legend Reborn! 64 Acciden

As he struggled to catch his breath, he lay on the ground flat on his back, regretful.

He had fallen at the cusp of entering Level 8!

Just one more enemy to go, but he had suffered through too many injuries in the illusion world and taken too much mental stress.

At the key moment before he crossed the watershed moment from Level 7 to Level 8, the defining difference of a true nation-wide genius and a mere regional talent, he had faltered.

He had made a rookie mistake, one that he berated himself endlessly for making, and ended up with a dagger through his heart!

'S-scary... I can still feel the pain as if though it were real...' He was covered in sweat, cold sweat and exhausted despite the entirety of the assessment happening in a virtual world. The body still responded according to the struggles of the mind.

He struggled to his feet and quickly cast his eyes up to the magic screen to see how the others had done.

Then he breathed out a sigh of relief - he was still in the top 3! The only ones who had entered Level 8 thus far were the monstrous Natalie Sarouneh and the divine-child Darius; the obvious favourites for this tournament anyway.

'It's fine... The top 3 have immense prizes, while as long as I'm the top 5, I'll still be recruited for the Duke's household guards!' He nodded his large head, his child-like expression matching his baby-face exceptionally well.

He stretched his humongous frame and cracked his knuckles before proceeding out. He would get a rest before watching the remaining contestants.

As he turned away from the screen to head to the resting areas, he heard a cry of wonder behind him, prompting him to turn around and check out the cause of the commotion.

And when he saw it, he teetered and stumbled and finally fell to his buttocks again.

'I'm... I'm out of the top 3...?' He had a look of disbelief on his face as his lower lip trembled, eyes turning slightly wet.

He shook in frustration, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes as he heard the voices around him begin to gossip.

"That #777... Is he cheating again?"

"No way! How could he manage to cheat the system?"

"Yeah! I heard that the illusion array isn't invented by our Kingdom of the Sands, but discovered from some ancient ruins!"

"Ancient ruins? More like aliens! Aliens, I tell you!"

"Bah! Shut up if you don't know anything! Didn't you pay attention in class? Didn't you read the Gorun Stadium section of the history textbooks in year 9, that the illusion array is a talent test for the ancient cultivators' inheritance?"

"Anyway, looks like we have a new Supernova Trio on our hands, right?"

"No no no, I haven't agreed yet, I'm still 101% certain that kid cheated!"

"Idiot! Not just history, you slacked out on Math too?!? Don't you know there's no such thing as 101%???"

"What the...!??"

Reshmont zoned out the remainder of the conversations. He felt a deep-set fear in his heart as he wearily rose to his feet again.

How would he explain to grandma that he failed to get a podium finish...?

* * * * *

"Level 8: Mid Elite level."

"Prepare for combat: 10 drow warriors."

The moment Lars was aware of his surroundings, he saw the glint, flash and arc of sword and blade lights flicker towards him!

'Ohh! A little interesting!' He swayed, leaned forward and hopped energetically to dodge 7 of the blows, but was forced to deflect two more with mana encoating his finger-swords.

'Eh??!' To his surprise, he was knocked stumbling backwards by the heavy sword blows and his sore fingers ached where he used them to block.

'Such a large difference in strength just from one level change? That's... Quite impressive! Looks like my mid Adept strength is reaching its limits even with my superior skills...'

While he was knocked off balance, he struggled to spin his body to avoid the last dagger blow but could only willingly receive it, face grimacing in pain as it left a long gash across his ribs.

'Damn! Why does the illusion array have to emulate pain as well! I just hope it doesn't replicate taste and smell either...'

In the 0.1 seconds gap before the second cycle of attacks began, the golden-haired boy struck out with a thrust of his fingers at a dodging drow swordsman. To Lars' surprise though, the dark elf reacted to the nearly invisible strike, angling his sword in an attempt to parry his piercing sword aura strike!

In the next moment, the drow's face twisted in surprise as he was blown away nearly 8 metres by the momentum of the sword light!

However, his parry across his chest was successful, deflecting the damage to leave a long and deep slash wound on his left shoulder instead of a gaping hole where his heart was!

'My God, they're that strong??! And they're even starting to have expressions too??! These illusions are too real!'

Dismissing his frivolous thoughts, Lars continued to dodge, avoid, parry and riposte, sending strikes, slashes and thrusts in the direction of the sword and dagger wielding dark elves around him.

Each strike would knock a combatant back a sizable distance and leave bloody wounds on their body. And Lars displayed amazing agility and footwork as he utilised everything he had at his disposal except his magic. However, for every round of combat he went through, he could only dodge 7-8 attacks while blocking the remaining 2 and sometimes receiving injuries of his own!

After the seventh round of clashing and dodging and receiving the fourth wound, he sighed deeply.

'Looks like this is as far as I can go...' He looked around in the brief moment of respite while the drow hunters regrouped to attack again.

Then his eyes curved into crescent moons and he smiled as he gripped his katana still in its sheath.

'Time to step it up a little!'

As his 10 assailants charged over, Lars calmly placed his right hand on the hilt of his sword and paused, trying to recall the feeling and unique charm demonstrated by the godlike being in his memories. Though he did not even budge an inch, it seemed as if though there were an unseen field of power, light and danger around him; in a radius of 2 metres in every direction.

The drow surrounding him tensed up as they sensed danger, but when they saw the opportunity and how he had stopped moving, all 10 the programmed lifeforms leaped across the last of the 4 metres between them and the motionless youth, taking the chance to strike him down!

In just those 2 seconds, everything changed.

Lars' eyes slowly flitted open in a dreamy state. His eyes were unfocused but seemed to be All-seeing at that moment.

In his state of oneness with the world, he lowered his body slightly and sensed all the particles in the air *SHIFT* and heed his beck and call.

Then soundlessly and without theatrics, he released a swift semi-circular sweep of the common blade in his hand. What was strange was that his blow seemed to slice uselessly through the air, not aimed at anyone in particular and not connecting with anything or anyone.

Then the 4 drow hunters approaching him from the front frantically crossed their weapons and even theirs arm before their bodies as they sensed deathly danger.

But half a breath later, they landed, unscathed and untouched. Then without missing a beat, all 10 drow hunters rushed towards the boy, weapons raised, ready for the cruel last strike to end his test here and now.

But while they were reared up to strike down, they stiffened and were petrified like stone statues - then their upper bodies began to slide sideways, moving diagonally and off the lower half of their torso.

This happened not only to the 4 drow before him in the path of his radiant sword strike, but also those behind him who he did not so much as look at.

And the 10 cleanly bisected mid Elite level drow hunters collapsed to the ground in neat halves, the cutting point on their bodies spurting out blood like decorative fountains around the golden-haired Sword Saint.

And before he knew it, all 10 of his enemies were dead and disappeared.

"Completed in 1 minute 43 seconds. Congratulations, proceeding to level 9."

His eyes bulged.

'W-what? Only 1 minute? Not even 2?? H-how come? But it felt like the battle lasted so long!'

Wasn't that too fast, even for himself??! His earlier rounds which were far easier had taken more than 20 minutes. So how would he explain needing only less than 2 minutes to overcome much stronger foes?

Wasn't he supposed not to attract TOO much attention??!

'M-must have gotten carried away... I guess the last level *WAS* pretty enjoyable and slightly challenging... Ahem... I got a little excited...'

'Good thing I took those earlier wounds.... Else it would seem it was just too easy for me...' He shrugged, since there was no longer anything he could do about it, he could only proceed to Level 9.

Based on the jump in difficulty from Level 7 to 8, the gap to Level 9 should be at least as big, right?

And even if it wasn't, he could just put on a show and purposely fail, right...

He grinned. It wouldn't do to shock his watcher's TOO much, would it?

"Level 9: Peak Elite level."

"Prepare for combat: Drow death-squad (10 drow) and 1 pseudo Master level drow death-dancer."

Chapter end