Dallion’s initial fear was that upon gathering near the obelisk, the group would be attacked by the ever-elusive creatures. That turned out not to be the case. The emotions he could sense with his music skills remained just as distant, even if they were markedly stronger.

The strange thing was that no one seemed to be doing anything remotely useful. Raven stood ten feet from the monument, observing it intensely. Phoil was sitting on the ground, playing with the shimmering deck of cards, and Cheska was idly practicing her spell casting, composing a nearly full pattern before letting it collapse. Even Iksa seemed deprived of any desire to do something.

“Anyone seen anything of the sort?” Dallion asked, testing the mood.

No one responded.

“Okay, we can tell that it’s broken,” Dallion went on. “But at the same time, is there enough for us to cast spells on? Anyone know of any repair spells?”

“There’s no such thing as a repair spell,” Phoil snickered. It wasn’t the sort of reaction Dallion wanted, but given the lack of everything else, that would do as well.

“Was I the only one who went through riddles during the experience trials?” Dallion frowned.

“I did a few, but they were boring,” Cheska said.

“I only got into fights,” Phoil admitted.

“Iksa?” Dallion looked at the girl.

“I…” she looked to the side. “I got my level up through other means. I’ve only been in two trials, both against guardians.”

Now, do you see why you’re so valuable, dear boy? Nil asked. Academics tend to get stumped by the most basic problems, while they’re devising formulas to take over the world.

That sounded just like what had happened here. The group, and the people supporting them, had been so convinced they could circumvent the standard trial that they weren’t prepared to deal with the actual problems. If it wasn’t for the still penalty of failure, Dallion would have found the whole thing rather funny. Instead, it was starting to infuriate him.

Doing his best to remain calm, Dallion went next to Raven.

“Any ideas?” he whispered.

“The obelisk is the key,” the black-haired replied. “Either we have to repair it or destroy what’s left.”

“Yeah, that pretty much covers all options,” Dallion couldn’t let it slide. “Any information on the matter will be useful right about now.”

“There are too many possibilities! The whole point was to avoid this step. When pillars are involved, nothing is certain. Sometimes the obelists are guardians that need to be eliminated. Sometimes, they are markers leading the way. The only way to know for certain is by interacting, but if that turns out to be a trap—”

“The trial will end here,” Dallion finished for him. “I’ll combat split and check it out. Everyone else can—”

“It won’t work,” Cheska interrupted. “They’re protected against splitting. If something happens to one instance, it will happen to all the rest.”

That was expected. Dallions still intended to do it, though. Something about having a spare instance always made him feel somewhat more secure.

“Does anyone else intend to do it?” Dallion asked.

“Phoil can do it,” Cheska replied lazily.

“Just stand back.” Dallion tapped Raven on the shoulder.

“Are you crazy?!”

“We’re not completing the trial standing here, so what choice do we have?”

Reluctantly, Raven had to agree. Without a word, he took several steps back. As if waiting for this, Cheska then completed a spell, casting a protective barrier between Dallion and the rest. Moments later, another barrier spell was completed, wrapping the whole area around the obelisk—Dallion included.

Real smooth, Dallion grumbled internally.

Summoning his harpsisword, he proceeded onwards. As he did, he split into three instances. One of them infused the weapon with spark. If this turned out to be a trap, he planned on destroying it even if he were made to suffer the consequences. It was one of the remaining two instances, though, that poked the base of the monument with the tip of the weapon. Nothing happened. At the very least, it wasn’t affected by inanimate objects.

After a momentary pause, Dallion split into three new instances. Two of them kept their distance, while the third approached again, this time, letting magic through the harpsisword. A rune of light was drawn onto the stone side.

According to the statistics of probabilities, the chance of getting the correct symbol—or combination of symbols—on the first to go was virtually zero. In his mind, Dallion was already going through all other symbols that might make sense in a trial like this. To his astonishment, the obelisk lit up with the brightness he had seen through the kaleidevristo a while ago.

Shield! Dallion jumped back, summoning the armadil shield.

The large piece of gear emerged on his hand. At Dallion’s current size, the shield didn’t need to expand to cover most of him. Even so, it expanded slightly to make sure that even his feet were protected.

“Hold tight!” Dallion shouted, getting ready to swing with his harpsisword.

However, no attack followed. Not only that, but the incandescent glow of the obelisk slowly faded away. Seeing his shadow on the ground diminish, then vanish completely, Dallion cautiously moved the shield away in one of his instances.

The monument was still there, but the blinding light had gone down to a warm purple glow. That wasn’t the most important thing, though. Clusters of magic threads emerged from the broken part of the obelisk, heading up in all directions. Dallion was positive they weren’t there moments ago.

The boy turned around and looked at the rest of his group. They were there, no less amazed.

You certainly know how to make an impression, the armadil shield said. Better look out when you become an apprentice.

Why? Think people will try to betray me?

Quite possibly, but that’s not what I had in mind. Flashy mages tend to attract lots of friends and magic groupies, at least they did back in my time.

Ignoring him, Dallion focused on the threads again. Initially, he was overcome with the temptation to slice them off with a precise spark slash. Then a thought crossed his mind, one that simultaneously both thrilled and depressed him.

“We need to find the missing pieces and rebuild it,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Cheska asked. “It might still be a trap.”

“If it’s a trap, then we’ll fail.” Dallion grumbled. “The reason the creatures in this realm have been hiding from us, instead of attacking, is because they have the missing pieces. It’s a hunting trial. We must reach them, defeat them and bring the fragments back. Preferably before the obelisk stops glowing.” The last, he added on his own accord. Having played enough games back on Earth, he still couldn’t kick the feeling that anything glowing was a time indicator or sorts.

“I don’t know…”

“Look, if they wanted to harm us, there’s nothing you could do. The threads have already gone through your magic barrier.”

That much was true. Considering it as criticism, Cheska immediately ended her spells. From her point of view, it was better that she be put in danger than admitting that her magic wasn’t all-powerful. At the end of the day, she remained a child, despite being a prodigy.

Lux, lift me up, Dallion ordered.

The armadil disappeared, unsummoned, as the firebirds’ flaming wings emerged from Dallion’s back. It was hardly a polite thing to do, but Dallion felt he didn’t have time to waste. Bursting into instances, he flew in all directions of the sky, following each thread to its final destination. Miles passed by in a flash. Within seconds, Dallion came to the end of his destination.

Species: AETHERFISH

Class: MAGIC

Health: 50%

Traits:

- BODY: 0

- MIND: 20

- PERCEPTION: 20

- RECTION: 20

- MAGIC: 20

Skills

- GUARD

- SPELLCRAFT

- FLIGHT (Species Unique)

Dozens of purple jellyfish were in the realm, each at the end of the thread. Looking closer, Dallion was able to see stone fragments within the creatures themselves. Within Dallion’s mind, time stopped.

It was so tempting to try to make echoes of himself and dispatch all the creatures at the same time. A series of spark slashes and everything would be over. Sadly, that wasn’t in the cards. Dallion had to make a choice.

His high perception trait had helped him see the shape of all the stone fragments within the creatures; his memory trait—to memorize them. Using his scholar skills, Dallion did a quick mental jigsaw to determine which jellyfish had the stone fragment that would fit the broken obelisk. Once he knew that, Dallion knew which instance to make reality.

All instances, but one vanished. Flying forward, Dallion infused his sword with spark and performed a vertical slash.

The blade cut through the jellyfish like butter, causing a huge chunk to fall off. However, no red rectangle appeared. At this point Dallion suspected that something was not right, so he continued striking using the multi-attack the skill bonus granted him.

Screeches filled the air, as jellyfish chunks flew in all directions. The creature dried did its best to evade Dallion, following a defense pattern that was supposed to help it to evade a strike. However, that worked poorly against adequate combat splitting. Even with five instances, Dallion was able to ensure that each strike was a hit. Yet, that didn’t seem to do anything at all. No matter how much he sliced off or how often, more would appear, as if the creature was constantly regenerating.

“Come on!” he hissed. His speed increased beyond what a normal person could see. The chunks of jellyfish turned into rain flying off it, but even that proved not enough.

Then, two thoughts hit Dallion at once. This was a magic trial. Defeating the enemy through combat alone wasn’t the point. However, were he to use his blade to draw a burning symbol within the creature, or possibly create a fireball, could have the desired effect. That was one option—the more straightforward and certain one.

The second option was to use a skill he had neglected for quite a while: talking to it. It was without doubt a creature, even if created by magic. That suggested that if he were to use his zoology skill, he might convince it to give him the chunk of stone. It would have been better to start with that option before attacking. Now, after causing it so much pain, it was all but certain that the creature would feel aggressive towards him.

There’s no gain in trying that now, Dallion thought, as if to convince himself of the fact. And yet there was a small meager voice deep inside that insisted that he should try. This wasn’t the voice that Dallion had become used to hearing. Rather, this was his own voice, remembering how he had done things a while back.

Is this why the Moons have cursed me? Dallion wondered.

Had it been necessary for him to become a monster in order to defeat the Star? He liked to believe that he hadn’t become one; but even if he had, there had been no other way to achieve victory. There was no guarantee that the deal Aether would have made was going to be as good as the one given to him by the Purple Moon. The same was true here. The aetherfish could well forgive Dallion, but would it? With every second, it was looking less and less likely. Dallion had just to go on and finish it off, then maybe try to approach the other ones in a more peaceful manner.

Suddenly, his hand froze. The strike that was supposed to pierce the creature did not occur. Taking advantage the aetherfish pulled back, flying away as fast as its body would allow it.

You okay, boss? Lux asked. Why stop?

“It’s fine.” Dallion unsummoned his sword. “Take me close to it and match its speed.”

Err, okay, boss. If that’s what you want.

Dallion nodded. It was what he wanted. The bigger question was whether it wasn’t too late.