During the twentieth night Eric had decided to begin using Mental Focus. There’s no reason to hold back my learning ability just because I want to hold back on mana usage, he thought. At times, the skill boosted his comprehension by a great degree and at other times it barely made a difference. But any increase was worthwhile.

  By the twenty-fourth night, Eric had hit a wall. Not an insurmountable one, but one limited by the conditions of the trial and his own decisions. All the ghosts that surrounded him had a limit to what they could do and what they could teach him, they were regular humans. And there was a limit to what he could do when he tried to limit himself, like a regular human who couldn’t use mana.

  Regardless, he continued and to his surprise, on the twenty-fifth night, the variety of enemies increased. Before, there had only been infantrymen with basic armor and weapons. Whatever they knew had been drilled into them by some short training time and experience in the battlefield. But a new variant appeared, ghosts with varying degrees of armor.

  After he finished killing the sixth wave, consisting of thirty-two ghosts, his gaze was drawn toward a heavily armored figure near the top of a hill. The tall ghost held a halberd with both hands, while wearing an obviously heavy armor.

  Not wanting to have to face an unknown enemy with sixty-three more enemies, Eric quickly retreated. With some effort, and still keeping his mana back, he dispatched all the active ghosts using a spear. When the night ended, he hurriedly made his way back to where the heavily armored ghost was.

  Some excitement was building within him, hoping that he would be able to go even further before he had to incorporate mana into his attacks, but reality was often disappointing.

  They, just like the rest, were regular human ghosts that were limited by aspects beyond their control. The new ghost variant only displayed a higher level of technique, but nothing that could actually be a risk to Eric, especially not now that he had actually decided to use Mental Focus.

  More and more of these unique ghosts kept popping up night after night. But since they weren’t special in any way, at least not at the level that Eric was now at, more often than not, it would only take him a single night to completely grasp all the ghosts’ movements.

  Though, the biggest boon that came with the appearance of these new ghosts was the new weapons they wielded. Up until their appearance, Eric had only faced swords, spears, bows and the occasional rare axe. These new ghosts brought with them an assortment of weapons that Eric hadn’t faced off against yet. Halberds, hammers, flails, morning stars.

  And that wasn’t even the best part about their variety. The best part was that they all came in varying sizes, even weapons that he had already learnt all he could from, like swords and spears. The size variance demanded a different approach.

  “I could power through, making the differences irrelevant, but then… why have I kept my mana back all this time?” Eric asked himself. “No, no shortcuts. I need to learn this the proper way.”

  Having long confirmed that each wave was a doubling of the previous one, Eric made an effort to only face off against the variants during the early waves. An unexpected result of his decision was that he was gaining an accurate measurement of his growing capabilities. Especially since he tended to follow the same route each night.

  By the forty-third night he was capable of reaching all the way to the eighth wave without any major injury, and the ninth with an accumulation of injuries so bad that the assimilation rate message appeared again.

  Bloodline assimilation increased!

  ????????????????: 91%

  It was now the fifty-sixth night and Eric was glancing around from above the tallest hill, confirming something for what he hoped would be the last time.

  “No more have appeared after the fiftieth night,” he said, nodding his head. Taking a deep breath, his words carried a sense of caution. “There are thousands of them. Will mana really make a difference?” A ghost approached him from the right. With a swift movement, he deflected the ghost’s sword and with the butt of the spear, pushed the ghost down the hill. “It has to be enough… eventually.”

  Tightening his grip on the spear, a warm sensation began to spread throughout his body. Other than Mental Focus, Eric stopped any and all mana usage, even restricting the creation of new pathways for the weapons he was wielding. He was about to smile, but remembering his previous attempts at doing so, he instead hardened his gaze, concentrating. Now, he would let the mana flow, create channels and incorporate everything he had learned up until this point.

  ----------

  Approaching a blinding portal while limping, Kralva, who bore no jewelry or tattoos, brought a sitting stool. “Aggh!” he groaned, wincing in pain. Breathing came hard to him but all in all, he wasn’t as injured as he would’ve been had he entered the tower alone.

  Before him, four towering, cloaked figures loomed in silence. They were his protection. Regardless of his personal desires, these figures followed him anywhere he went. Created through secret means, these guardians were actually nearing the limits of the adept stage, which was what Eric knew as the second stage or rank E, yet their levels were just as slow as any of the other contestants.

  Looking at the figures, Kralva felt a certain lack of acknowledgement toward their very existence. “Can’t even complain about injuries,” he said, looking at the blood that was pooling underneath one of them. Letting out an annoyed and tired sigh, he threw a potion vial at the injured figure. Knowing that they wouldn’t take it if offered, he threw it with such force that it broke on impact. “You might be useful for later, so don’t die just yet,” he said. “Now we wait.”

  While the portal was right there and he could easily cross it, there was a reason he didn’t do so. It was the fact that in these stone halls he had gotten so injured, even with his entourage, that it made him hesitate to continue. Not like I really have a choice though, he thought to himself, still have one more floor to clear before the introduction section of the tower ends.

  Turning to face the hall where he came from, a thought solidified in his mind. If this floor almost killed me, he turned to the portal, what will the tenth floor bring?

  ----------

  Running through the plains, Eric sliced through enemy after enemy with ease. It didn’t matter if the ghosts were able to see him coming from a mile away and prepared an appropriate block or deflection, the strength with which they were struck was far too great. Their solid ghostly swords cracked under the strain and their bodies dissipated into red smoke.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Eric jerked his head to the side in annoyance, once more feeling the tug of the System, signifying another message. The messages had come nonstop ever since he began to reinforce his body with mana. It must be all the initial low levels of all the weapons I’m using, he thought, sure of his answer.

  Just because he began to use mana, didn’t mean he planned to stop using a variety of weapons. The reality was that every weapon still felt exactly the same as the rest. Gaining proficiency in a variety of them only further cemented an old idea. I have no affinity for any weapon.

  At one point he even began to use his fists. He hadn’t done so before because even with his new body, he was unsure if he could do any lasting damage, like Alex did with his stone covered fists. And he didn’t stop there, he didn’t have an image of a wall like Alex. No, he just wanted to be stronger and experience more interesting things, and as he was punching his way through enemies, a doubt crept into him, what if I lose my arms?

  That small doubt was all he needed to begin incorporating his legs into his combat. When it came to punches and kicks, they were without a doubt his weakest areas. His punches, while solid, were awkward and he always felt like he needed a head start. His kicks were no different, he would always make an awkward pause before actually kicking.

  Even if he knew how to use his body more efficiently, he wasn’t some combat prodigy that could quickly adapt to any combat or opportunity. The more and more he fought, the clearer his limitation became. He had no basis for how to fight with his new body.

  The techniques I’ve learned here aren’t enough to fully take advantage of my strength and speed.

  Eric felt like he was running old games on a modern computer. They would work, but they wouldn’t take full advantage of what the computer could do. If the difference was great enough, than it would be no different than the computer being on idle.

  If I’m being honest, now that I’m using mana, this trial is more like one of endurance than one of weapon mastery. Can I manage my mana efficiently? How long can I remain active while fighting without getting tired?

  With the sun rising once more, the fifty-eighth night came to an end. Eric immediately stopped his mana reinforcement, allowing it to recover as much as possible before he needed it once again.

  He made his way back to the stacks of weapons and brought out all the arrow barrels and quivers that had been brought out and he began to arrange them around the plains. Even as the eerie red light took over the sky and the first ghost began to move; he continued with what he was doing.

  Dodging the swing of the single first wave ghost, Eric set down the last quiver. He then made his way back at a leisurely pace, blocking and dodging without worry. When he arrived at the stockpile of weapons, he took out some bows. Reinforcing his arm a bit, he threw them more or less where he thought he might need them, at least based on previous nights.

  Grabbing the only remaining bow, he made his way toward a barrel full of arrows that was near the gate. Letting out a deep breath, he drew the string back and let it loose. Without any assistance, the arrow landed on what once would’ve been its lower jaw, but it did falter and after two more, it vanished.

  Eric didn’t have a particular interest in the bow, or in any weapon, but by his estimation it was the one that was furthest behind. “If I remember correctly, I only felt the System eight times. Just need two more and I’m done.”

  There was no flashiness to what he was doing, it was methodical and as efficient as could be. Arrow after arrow, barrel after barrel and bow after bow, he made it all the way to the ninth wave, where he had to fight over five hundred ghosts.

  Each motion was familiar, an automatic process that only required slight adjustments from external factors like approaching threats, yet Eric’s eyes were always on target, never wavering.

  As he readies the final arrow, aiming right between a couple dozen approaching ghosts, something shifts. The hot mana within him begins to rush faster, moving with purpose. He only used it to reinforce the parts of his body necessary for his current task but now it was doing its own thing. It rushed toward his head, a slight heat forming around his eyes.

  All his senses heighten to an unnatural degree. He can hear himself pulling the string, pressing the arrow between two fingers. The light scraping of the wood on skin becomes as noticeable as the red hue in the sky. Then, the arrow is let loose, but Eric’s vision doesn’t end where it should. Suddenly, Eric is standing before his target, his arrow skewered deep into where its eyes once were.

  Eric is yanked back to his original position. With his awareness, he quickly realizes that he didn’t move, only his sight traveled far, aiding his efforts with the bow. He is suddenly brought back to reality as he feels the familiar tugs from the System, at least three, by his absent-minded counting.

  “I don’t know what the fuck that was, but at least I’m done with bringing all the weapons up to level ten, I think,” he muttered as he reached for the sword on his waist. “Now, I try to finish this for real.”

  The reason that he took out a sword and not any other weapon was because he was sure that it was currently the one with the highest level of mastery. Nothing had changed in relation to his affinity toward the bow, and he even had an enlightenment with the sword on the first floor. So, in that regard, the two weapons were equal.

  That being said, Eric still had the sensation from the bow enlightenment fresh on his mind and he began to shift his entire body, falling into a rhythmic stance. He failed almost immediately. Distance was what allowed him to build a rhythm with the bow. The distance between an opponent and you when you wield a sword was only a few centimeters, so using the same logic to try and enter a similar state would be useless.

  Instead of trying to replicate something that was completely unsuited for his current weapon, he shifted his focus elsewhere. “Might as well try to incorporate what I saw Anna doing,” he said, halfheartedly.

  Beginning lazily and somewhat tired, he immediately noticed some of what made her movements so unfit for him. He already knew some of them, but this time, his understanding about reach and technique had advanced a bit. His knowledge was no longer what it was that first night, now he could see a bit further.

  The first thing he had to do was determine what the true purpose of each of Anna’s strikes was.

  “She slashed upward, but did she slash upward because that’s what she wanted to do or because that’s what she had to do? Did she have to use both hands to stab through or was that due to her lack of strength?”

  Everything that Eric had ever seen Anna do came under scrutiny. With his own movements he would analyze each and every movement, considering all possible reasons behind why they were the way they were. He would perform them exactly as she did, he would do them considering a difference in strength, height and reach. Any possible variation that came to mind or that Mental Focus gave him, was performed.

  This obviously made his clearing of the plains a longer endeavor than before, but Eric could feel himself growing ever so slightly. These techniques, while only fragments, were helping greatly.

  “They feel… like pieces that fit anywhere,” he muttered, connecting a simple slash with on of Anna’s thrusts.

  Eric continued to practice and practice, but unlike with the bow or with the very sword on the first floor, he didn’t get another hint of enlightenment. Everything that he did was pure effort and training, becoming more than he was by pure force of will.

  It was on the sixty-eighth night that Eric finally killed the final ghost.

  Bloodline assimilation increased!

  ????????????????: 94%

  “Ten-thousand ghosts,” Eric said, looking at the sky, watching the red hue recede into nothingness. “The thirteenth wave was definitely the hardest,” he added, remembering how over four-thousand ghosts rushed at him simultaneously.

  Quest complete!

  You have encountered the secret objective of the Trial of Mastery.

  New Quest!

  Quest: All or none.

  Objective: Liberate all ten-thousand souls.

  Rewards: +16 Reward points.

  Quest complete!

  As Eric read the messages before him, he began to hear the gate opening behind him.

  “No, that’s not how the gate sounded,” he said, slowly turning to face the walled town.

  His eyes widened in surprise when all that he saw was nothing but ruins. The only thing that he saw that was still standing was a pristine fountain with a statue of an orc on it.

  Feeling an unnatural draw toward the fountain and already curious about it, Eric began to make his way toward it. “If my guess is correct and every night was about eight to ten hours long, then it took me somewhere between twenty and thirty days to complete the trial. This damage is way older than that,” he said observing the fallen houses, along with the old pieces of wood and stone.

  When he entered what was once the chapel, now completely destroyed, he saw a figure seated on the fountain’s edge and the orc statue was nowhere to be seen.