The windows went transparent, letting sunlight flood into the room. While it felt that the conversation with the green Moon had only lasted a few minutes, it seemed that almost a full day had passed. Dallion had skipped evening, night and even next day’s morning without even noticing. The pain in his eyes had gone, along with the exhaustion. Unfortunately, the faint sensation of hunger had made itself known, reminding that even mental trials were exhausting.

Dallion stood up and looked outside. Everything seemed calm. Birds from the Vermillion islands flew in the sapphire sky, making their way to the high points of the main island. A dozen feet from the tower, Dallion could see all three echoes of him, playing some sort of game with dice and coins. He vaguely remembered it being a game popular in Nerosal, but had never bothered to learn the rules. Life in this world was way more interesting than a game. Given that the echoes were effectively trapped in his small domain, there was nothing else they could do for entertainment. Thinking about it, that explained Gen’s near obsession with fixing the place. As the oldest, he had spent a vast amount of time in a series of dark rooms and tunnels, connecting to the oasis of light that was Harp’s tower. No wonder he, like everyone else, preferred to spend so much time at the beach.

Looking at the three echoes side by side, it was apparent how different they were. All of them shared Dallion’s face—in various stages of his life—but their personalities were nothing in common. Gen was the mechanic, or fix-it guy. When he wasn’t improving something in the domain, he would spend his time reading in one of the two libraries. July, in contrast, was the one tending to the familiars. Initially, Gleam had been his favorite, but with time, Nox and Lux had taken a liking to him as well. And finally, there was Ariel. The white-haired echo didn’t seem to be particularly interested in modeling or animals, preferring to keep to himself for the most part. However, Dallion knew that if anyone were to try and invade his realm, Ariel would be the one to stop them.

“You’re up,” the white-haired said. “Ready for the next trial?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Dallion was starting to have second thoughts.

Don’t hesitate, Nil said. Sometimes we must do things that we don’t like in order to progress.

You’re convinced about this? Dallion asked.

Have some faith in me, dear boy.

“Want to join in?” July asked. “It’s boring with three.”

That was a peculiar thing to say. Not knowing the rules, Dallion had to take the echo’s word for it. Sadly, he wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Maybe later.”

No explanations were necessary—all three echoes knew precisely what his thoughts were, so none of them persisted. Gen even made a thumbs up gesture for good luck.

Thanks, Dallion thought. I’ll need that.

It didn’t take long for Dallion to pick a spot for the next trial. Since he wasn’t as picky as before, a doorway appeared in the first solid piece of rock he walked past. Taking a deep breath, Dallion summoned all his gear, then opened the door. A blue lit tunnel continued forward to infinity, as if someone had taken a wormhole and placed it there. All that had to be done now was one step and the next trial would likely start.

Another level and Dallion could increase his reaction even more. If he were lucky, he could even come across an achievement that would boost him even further. And, if this trial was successful, why stop here? He could easily go on with a third trial, a fourth, maybe even a fifth? With that many advancements, it was virtually guaranteed that he’d have the skills and traits to tip the scales in his favor, if not outright defeat the mage.

“Sorry, Nil,” Dallion said all of a sudden. “One trial is enough.”

Please think carefully about this, there was slight panic in Nil’s voice. You’re in no state to face a mage with the stats you have.

“A single level won’t change the odds.”

You won’t gain just one more level! I’ve watched you. I know what you’re capable of. It won’t be easy. Without a doubt, it will be back breakingly difficult, but you can reach fifty.

“Didn’t you say that I’m only good for two?”

And after those two I’d have told you to go for one more, and one more, and one more. It’s all about psychology here. The more you’ve convinced of your success the less fears you’ll have and the less you’ll have to face.

“I thought cheating wasn’t possible.”

It isn’t cheating. It’s an early boost. After fifty, you were likely going to hit a brick wall that would take you a wall to break through, but being at fifty would be enough.

It was difficult to say whether Dallion was supposed to be glad or upset. The old echo had told him indirectly that there was something awaiting him upon reaching fifty. Nil wouldn’t be so insistent for a mere train increase. In a way, that made this even more difficult.

“Sorry, Nil. Your choice doesn’t align with mine at this stage.”

What’s that supposed to mean? Nil snapped.

“Some advice I got recently. Thanks for the help, though. I appreciate the intention.”

The door in front of Dallion disappeared. Moments later, so did the rest of the realm. Dallion was back in the cloud citadel. The return was accompanied with the usual shock, although it took Dallion less time to get adjusted to his surroundings. Most likely, the awakening level made switching between realms easier.

Euryale was in front, her back turned to him. She had tried to petrify the mage, though that hadn’t worked out. The effects had only lasted a few seconds, after which even they had faded away.

Everything affects everything, Dallion said to himself.

The mage had already started drawing the next series of patterns around her. Unlike the fury in the awakening trial, there were no such things as mana threads that could be cut. Despite floating in the air, the mage wasn’t a fury, thus she didn’t react as one; and that meant that Dallion didn’t have to view her as one.

A mage’s strength was in her spells, which meant in her speed and fingers. Since the protective shields made it impossible to reach her directly—despite the whip blade’s persistent efforts—it suggested one a possible node of attack. It all mattered on how the mage had improved her traits. Since she was from Earth, she undoubtedly had a basic idea of game mechanics and leveling. Even so, it was possible she had gone along the specialized rout. Dallion knew that if he had started with the empathy trait right off, he’d have spent all his points there to gain a maximal advantage.

Let’s see how much strength you have, Dallion thought, and drew his hammer.

Barely had Dallion made a step back, when an entire cloud tower crashed onto the mage. There was no physical impact, rather it was like watching something be swallowed by fluff, obstructing all view.

“Don’t fight her.” Jiroh appeared on the scene. “Join Eury and get out of here. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“She’s a mage,” Dallion kept on gripping the hammer. “You can’t take her on your own.”

“I don’t have to. I’ll be gone before she could do me any harm. She’s here for what’s left in the citadel, probably the awakening altar or some other device that the king had stashed. Keep low, join the rest of the party and you’ll be—"

A strong gust of wind emerged, bursting the cloud surface around the mage. Clearly, the opponent was well prepared and battle hardened. The blue robe was now covered with a large semi-transparent suit of flowing purple armor. Above it was a whole ring of glowing spears the instantly flew towards their targets, splitting between Eury, Dallion and Jiroh.

Adrenalin made Dallion want to block the three spears heading his way. Training made him combat split and jump to the side instead, further deflecting them with his shield. It was a good thing too, for apart from everything else, the spears had a sort of electric charge. The instances in which Dallion had gone in contact with them immediately froze up, paralyzed. If this had happened in reality, he’d probably get stuck in the cloud, or worse, be on a one-way trip in the ocean below.

Both Eury and Jiroh had reacted in a much more sensible fashion, evading or blocking the spears without actually touching them.

Your turn, Onda, Dallion thought as he spun and threw the hammer in the direction of the mage.

The action didn’t phase the woman in the least. Acknowledging the attack, she remained where she was, focusing on casting more spells. Several new layers of shielding appeared around her defensive cocoon, positioned to cushion the hit. Alas for her, she had made the mistake that Dallion was hoping she would: it wasn’t about the blow itself, it was about the inertia.

So far, all attacks—flying knives, clouds, whip blade slashes—had the goal of cutting or puncturing her. Defending them was easy, since the kinetic energy was so low. Having a hammer be propelled at her with such power, however, was something completely different. The impact was far from enough to harm the energy shield in any way, however, it thrust the entire cocoon backwards, causing the mage to slam into its inside like a fly on a windshield.

Got you, Dallion smiled. He had experienced the same a few times in the awakened realms, while cocooned in his armadil shield. Unlike the mage, though, he didn’t have to concentrate to keep his defenses active.

Blood shot out of the mage’s nose, briefly splashing into the magic shield, before it too dissolved alone with all her other magic spells. The spears, the armor, even her ability to remain in air were completely gone, allowing the whip blade to finally bite into her leg.

“Get to the hearts of the citadel,” Dallion told Jiroh. There wouldn’t be any better chance than this.

The fury had realized it as well, for she was already clawing at the ground. The speed and intensity were such that Dallion could see nothing but a blur. Blue sparks appeared, growing in size and intensity. Yet, despite all of Jiroh’s efforts, the cloud surface remained unchanged.

“No!” she yelled.

“What’s the matter?” Dallion asked, while still having half a dozen instances ready in case the mage wasn’t alone.

“The creatures are too weak. They aren’t letting me through.”

Maybe that’s a sign for you to stay, Dallion wanted to say, but deep down, he knew that not to be true. After what Jiroh had told him, after everything she had done, the many sacrifices, the determination not to use her awakened abilities just to get used to not having them, he knew that such words would be like throwing salt in a wound. Even if the creatures had died, or were no longer able to help her, the least he could do was to get Jiroh to see it herself.

“Move back,” Dallion said, drawing his thread splitter from the place he was hiding it.

The blade gleamed with a gold light as Dallion pulled it out of its sheath. With one precise strike, he opened a cut in the cottony surface, opening a path in as if a zipper had been pulled open.

“Where’d you get that?” Jiroh asked.

“I made a gamble,” Dallion lied. Going into the history of the item was the last thing he wanted right now. “Let’s just go in and—"

High-intensity flames filled the area. All but two of Dallion’s instances were instantly melted away, along with a large part of the cloud. Only those standing close to Jiroh managed to survive unscathed. Flames, while destructive, were incapable of harming a fury. At the end of the day they remained nothing but currents of ultra-hot air, and air was controllable.