As the fight went on, one golem tried to ambush Arthur from behind, a hulking brute wielding a spiked hammer.

He spun, raising a hand. The hammer froze midair, caught by an invisible force. The golem trembled as Arthur’s telekinesis crushed its hands like paper. He then slashed upward, bisecting it in one motion.

“Did… did he just stop that thing without even touching it?” a mage whispered in disbelief.

Finn replied as he jumped back from the attack of a stone guardian. “He’s using telekinesis…”

Arthur exhaled slowly as six more golems advanced, moving in unison. Their weapons glowed with mana, forming barriers of light as they encircled him.

He smiled faintly. “Bring it on.”

He slid one foot back, his aura condensing sharply around him. Golden lightning started appearing around him as they covered his whole body.

Then, he vanished.

A shockwave rippled outward, and in the next instant, the sound of splitting stone filled the hall.

The six golems stood frozen. Thin golden lines glowed across their bodies, then they shattered all at once, bursting into fragments.

Finn shielded his face as shards of stone flew past him. When he lowered his arm, all six stone guardians were gone, reduced to piles of shattered stones.

Arthur stood in the center of the wreckage, his sword humming softly, golden sparks of lightning dancing along the blade. His gaze turned toward the remaining golems that were still surrounding them.

He dashed forward once again. The remaining statues fell one after another in a rhythmic sequence. Each blow rang like a gong through the chamber, and each enemy collapsed seconds after contact.

When the dust finally settled, silence blanketed the hall.

Thirty stone guardians lay in ruins. The once-majestic chamber now looked like a battlefield of shattered marble and stone fragments.

Arthur sheathed his sword with a quiet click, his aura fading like a tide receding from the shore.

Finn let out a long, shaky breath, breaking the stunned quiet. “Remind me… to never spar with you again.”

The scarred warrior just stared, wide-eyed. “He…he wiped out thirty B-Rank monsters… just like that.”

The elf leader finally stepped forward, his usual calm demeanor shaken. “Arthur, was it? Your strength is… far beyond any 5th Circle mage.”

Arthur simply nodded, dusting off his sleeves. “You could say that. I am somewhat of a Martial Artist too.”

The sword spirit chuckled in his mind. ‘They haven’t seen what you are capable of and they are already impressed. Well I can’t blame them, it is abnormal for a human your age to possess this much strength.’

Arthur ignored the sword spirit’s jab and looked toward the far end of the hall, where a massive stone door had begun to glow faintly with golden light, the next path was opening.

He turned back to the others, his expression steady. “Let’s move after collecting the artifacts. It seems this was just the warm-up.”

Finn groaned. “Just the warm-up?”

Arthur didn’t answer, just smiled faintly and walked forward through the rubble as the others trailed behind, still trying to process what they’d just witnessed.

…

The shattered remains of the stone guardians lay scattered across the vast hall, dust hanging thick in the air. The mana from the battle still rippled through the hall.

Finn bent over, hands on his knees, still catching his breath. “You know…” he said between pants, “…every time I think I’ve caught up to you, you go and pull off something like that.”

Arthur smirked, and said in a teasing tone. “Consider it motivation.”

The others were quieter. Their eyes darted from the mountain of stone rubble to Arthur, and then to the artifacts that had once rested in the guardians’ hands. The items gleamed faintly with enchantments, and were emanating faint pulses of mana.

The scarred warrior wiped his sword clean and straightened. “So… I guess these are all ours then?” he said hesitantly, glancing at Arthur.

The elf leader folded his arms and said with contempt towards him. “Arthur’s the one who did most of the fighting. It would be disrespectful to claim them without his word.”

The group turned toward Arthur.

He could feel their hesitation. Even though they were strong, and came from noble houses, none of them were reckless enough to offend someone who just annihilated thirty B-Rank guardians as if they were training dummies.

Arthur met their eyes one by one, then exhaled softly. “You guys can take one each.”

That broke the tension immediately.

Finn blinked and hurriedly asked not wanting Arthur to incur a loss here. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Arthur nodded. “Consider it a gift from me.”

The scarred warrior broke into a grin, the elf’s lips curled into a rare smile, and even the mages, who had been deathly pale during the fight, bowed slightly in thanks.

“That is very generous of you,” the elf said sincerely. “Most would’ve hoarded them all.”

Arthur just shrugged without answering anything. He could have taken all of them, but since these artifacts were not that powerful he decided to give them a share.

Finn ran towards a sword to pick it up with a grin on his face.

The group dispersed across the hall, examining the weapons and trinkets the statues had once guarded.

The elf chose a silver scepter carved with ancient runes. The scarred warrior claimed a massive axe that still glowed faintly with residual mana.

Arthur let them choose an artifact for themselves, as he leaned against a broken pillar.

When everyone finished securing their finds, they regrouped near the golden gate.

The elf ran his fingers along the carvings that framed the doorway. “It’s still active. We should move before it closes.”

Arthur nodded. “Let’s go.”

…

The next few hours they passed through multiple traps and monster hordes.

The dungeon seemed alive as they were travelling through the tunnel. Sometimes they stepped on traps, which sent volleys of spears down the narrow corridor. Walls slid sideways without warning, nearly crushing those too slow to react. Traps activated on the ground, casting sudden bursts of flame or freezing wind.

But with Arthur’s enhanced senses and the elf’s detection spells, they avoided the worst of it.

“Stop,” Arthur said suddenly, raising a hand. Everyone froze mid-step.

A faint click echoed under Finn’s boot. He looked down and paled. “Aw, come on… not again.”

The elf stepped forward, murmuring a spell. A thin wave of blue light rippled through the stone, neutralizing the trap’s energy source.

The plate sank harmlessly into the floor and they continued deeper into the tunnel.

And when traps weren’t trying to kill them, monsters were.

Twice, they were swarmed by creatures that poured from cracks in the walls, sometimes it was shadowy lizards, skeletal wolves, or even humanoid wraiths whose scream affected their mental state, as they attacked them. The team fought with grim determination, their teamwork allowing them to overcome these obstacles. 

Arthur moved at the front, his Chi attacks cutting paths through the hordes. The elf stayed behind, commanding defensive barriers while Finn and the others struck from the flanks. But Arthur didn’t carry them this time as it would only restrict their growth down the line, and only kept his involvement to the bare minimum to not let them die.

By the time they reached another massive gate, nearly five hours had passed. Sweat streaked down their faces, and mana potions had become precious commodities.

The door before them, however, wasn’t like the others they came across before this. It wasn’t made out of stone or metal, it was a construct of light, a vertical pool of golden radiance that rippled like liquid, like a portal.

Finn frowned. “That’s… definitely not a normal gate.”

The elf studied it, his voice was low. “It’s a spatial distortion, likely a teleportation gate.”

“Where does it lead?” asked one of the mages.

The elf shook his head. “No idea.”

Arthur stepped closer, as he studied the golden gate. “Only one way to find out.”

Finn groaned. “Of course you’d say that.” But he still grinned. “Alright. Let’s finish this.”

They exchanged quick nods, gripping their weapons, and one by one stepped through.

Arthur was the last.

The moment his boot crossed the threshold, his senses warped. His stomach lurched as mana pressure folded around him. For a split second, he felt weightless, like falling through an endless abyss.

Then, the world snapped back. He blinked and squinting against blinding light, to adjust his vision.

When his vision cleared, he wasn’t in the dungeon anymore.

He stood in an infinite white space, featureless and silent. There was no ground, or a sky, just a horizon that stretched forever in every direction. There was no sign of Finn, or the others.

Arthur turned slowly, his expression calm but alert. “…Separated, huh?”

The sword spirit’s voice echoed in his mind. ‘Seems like it. A test, perhaps?’

Arthur nodded slightly. “It wouldn’t be a dungeon from the ancient realm without unpredictability.”

He took a cautious step forward. His reflection followed him beneath his feet, as if the ground itself were made of glass. There was no sound except the sound of his steps that seemed to fill the whole place.

Then, a voice spoke. A deep, echoing tone that came from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Welcome, Challenger… to the Trial of the Oracle.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he tried to find where the sound was coming from. “Trial?”

The voice continued, emotionless. It didn’t answer his question as if it was a recording.

“This is the final test of worth. Each who enters will face their own trial, measured not by strength alone, but by potential. The trial will scale to your power.”

Arthur folded his arms, and muttered, “So, this means a person weaker than the other can get better rewards if they perform better.”

“Pass as many levels as you can. The further you go, the greater your reward.”

The air vibrated, a low hum resonating through the space. Mana began to gather ahead of him, swirling like smoke drawn into a shape.

Arthur’s hand instinctively went to his sword as a silhouette started forming, a humanoid figure made entirely of shadow. Its surface rippled like liquid, as the figure stabilized he saw that it had no eyes, or mouth, or any defining features, only a faint outline of a man holding a blade identical to his own.

The shadow raised its head, and a chilling familiarity settled in Arthur’s chest.

“…So that’s how it is.”

The sword spirit’s tone grew sharper. “A mirror battle. It’s going to fight you with your own power.”

Arthur gripped his sword and exhaled, a small, anticipatory smile touching his lips.

“Then let’s see how well it can handle me.”

The shadow moved towards him with golden lightning wrapped around its figure… the trial had finally begun.

***

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