The thought of fighting three phantoms was considerably less intimidating than fighting five at once. But Noah, as much as he had tried to, had no way of telling the phantoms apart. The knowledge he had acquired changed the situation, but he wasn’t sure how exactly to capitalize on it.

So, he tried again.

And again.

Yet another time.

Liam had taught him another trick- using health potions could, in fact, stave off sleepiness for the next 12 hours, a trick that Noah had been forced to use as he was pretty sure he was nearing the twenty-four-hour mark since Gridlocked had started. Within seconds, Noah felt the vitality surge in his body, filling him with energy as if he had woken up from a good night’s sleep- the effect of the health potion was markedly more effective when it had no immediate wounds to mend, which actually made sense.

As Noah kept rising and getting beat back down, he was starting to glimpse something close to a rhythm or tempo of battle, and somehow the best way Noah could describe Myriad Illusions was a brilliantly intricate and complex dance that one could only witness if they were to put themselves at the knife’s edge, telling a story of treachery and betrayal while containing a fascinating serenity to it, as if killing others via this combat art was somehow justified and the correct thing to do.

Facing the five phantoms, this time Noah was calm and alert- he knew what to do. Three phantoms came crashing down at him from three different sides, while two phantoms trailed behind. Noah started sprinting towards the one approaching from the North, gladius held parallel to the ground and raised above his head. The phantom swung, and Noah met its blade with its own- except the grip he had over his gladius was weak and malleable- the force of the blades colliding forced Noah’s blade downwards, and he used that opportunity to slash around the phantom’s leg, in what was easily a disabling blow.

One phantom lunged from behind, though Noah had felt its approach from a mile away. He pivoted on one leg and dodged the first swing, which was followed by a second and third that Noah had to parry. Another phantom joined in from the side, looking to lunge, but Noah paid it no attention. Instead, he moved to slash the first phantom, his arm extended as forward as his body would allow- the phantom switched to a defensive stance and Noah gave him a wicked smile.

In a move that stretched the very limits of Noah’s dexterity and body capabilities, he reduced the momentum of his swing and switched to a reverse grip, letting his hand swipe out rightwards and catch the second approaching phantom. It burst out into a cloud of smoke, and Noah kicked away the first phantom that was still in a defensive stance.

Noah flicked his dagger in a seemingly random throw behind him, but the phantom that had been approaching him stealthily from behind burst out into smoke. There were two phantoms left, but only one had a material body capable of interacting with the physical world. The phantom that had been kicked away came charging back towards Noah, but he just smirked…. And ran straight through it- only meeting smoke as resistance, impaling the phantom that was following right behind it, waiting to ambush Noah once he tried to dodge the first phantom’s assault.

“Boom, motherfucker!” Noah pumped his gladius wielding arm in the air, triumphant at his well-earned victory.

“Good show, lad,” Liam cheered from the side, and Noah laughed in delight. Although he had half the trial remaining, now that he knew the trick behind it, and had grasped myriad illusions at a deeper level he was confident in completing it. The sense of accomplishment he felt, a feeling that he had been yearning for a long while coming, made him feel refreshed and eager for more.

And so went the trial, each subsequent level taking longer than the last, but steady, measured progress that no one could deny Noah. He was starting to lose track of time, the only thing he paused for was either food, water or a health potion to stave off the drowsiness. After the 40th step, each step took him at least an hour to crack, if not more.

Finally, a battered, tired beyond belief Noah sat panting at the 49th step, the precipice of the end.

The last contraction occurs.

Time remaining- 6 hours

Present Survivors- 1125/2500

You must complete the trial to receive the experience. Kill count- 180.

“Hey Liam. Does the difficulty change on the final step?” Noah asked, hoping he hadn’t jinxed himself.

“You tell me, lad. You have done well learning Myriad Illusions, but I am afraid you’re not quite there yet. There is a certain crucial element that your combat style lacks, without which you will always be a mere imitation, a knock-off of the original. Do you know what that is?”

“Do you have to be so cryptic?” Noah questioned, his tone weary and his voice hoarse.

“Just ascend the last step and you will understand,” Liam just waved Noah off, and he just grunted in response.

Noah thought about Liam’s question, but he had incorporated the forms that the vision had shared with him in his combat style, what else was he supposed to do? Make a thousand swords appear out of thin air? Pity that trick wasn’t part of the package he had been given.

He stood taut and ready, like an arrow but a moment away from being released with an immense amount of momentum, ready to face 10 phantoms coming for him from all directions.

However, all he faced was one enemy, a tall man that appeared to be in his early twenties, lean build and a cool smile on his face….

Himself.

Now Noah understood what Liam was talking about, the greatest illusion was where, before deceiving your opponent or anyone else, you had the ability to deceive oneself.

Noah plucked his Assassin’s dagger from his sheath and threw it towards alter-Noah’s chest, who mirrored his movements and did the exact same thing.

A loud clang rang out, and both the daggers clattered to the ground harmlessly.

“What the fuck,” was the only thing Noah could say, completely stupefied on the very first exchange. How could Noah beat an opponent that could mirror his movements down to the exact second?