Morrigan looked at his sister and said, "Lucy… I think it's time already. We need to gather more allies and conclude our seventh trial. There are no more enemies here… they were all dealt with already."
Lucy hadn't completed her seventh trial either, although hers was easier than Morrigan's:
Reach the Grand Desert City.
Slay a hundred.
Protect the Progenitor Tree.
She had already completed the first two; now, only the last one remained.
Lucy looked at Morrigan, the corners of her mouth curling into a confident smile as her black eyes shone with resolve. "I was just waiting for you to give the word. I've noticed at least four adventurers watching us earlier. Two of them had talent with mana from what I could feel… the others were probably weapon users, but I can't confirm anything."
Morrigan nodded, his voice carrying a deep tone of trust. "If you felt it, then it must be true. Let's try to talk to them."
Although he said it, his mind differed from his words, there were five adventurers… it's just that one of them somehow had no mana.
He trusted his sister. She was incredibly gifted with mana, having begun her training at nine, reached her second circle by eleven, her third by sixteen, and now, the elders of her clan believed she might reach the fourth circle within the next ten years… a feat only achieved by a handful of people in history.
She was a once-in-a-century prodigy. Morrigan, however, did not stand far behind and also trusted himself.
Morrigan earned the title of Master Swordsman at just fifteen, the same age he awakened his aura. Now, at seventeen, he was the beacon of hope for their fading lineage—the Descending Mountain Wolf Clan.
This small, impoverished clan, hidden deep in a remote mountain range, maintained little contact with the outside world. Its leader was old and nearing death, with no worthy successor in sight, that is, until Morrigan and Lucy were born.
From a young age, both displayed exceptional potential. Now, they carried their clan's name and legacy forward, bearing the weight of reviving what once seemed lost.
******
A couple of days had passed.
Faust sat cross-legged on the ground, sweat beading on his forehead as he carefully injected mana into a piece of paper inscribed with the intermediate rune Bind.
10%
20%
40%
80%
98%
At that point, the rune pulsed with intense light and suddenly, his arm froze in place, dropping the piece of paper.
He strained to move it, but despite no visible restraint, it refused to obey. It was bound by the rune.
With a simple thought, he willed the effect to disperse. Instantly, the effect vanished and movement returned to his limb.
"Hahaha! This is quite good!" Faust exclaimed, grinning as he picked up the paper once more, the Bind rune still intact upon it.
Just a day earlier, he had finally reached the required mana capacity to activate the Bind rune, and the results had exceeded his expectations. Unlike the Heal rune, which crumbled after use, or the Detonation rune, which self-destructed, Bind remained intact. It could also be dispersed manually or would expire automatically after thirty seconds.
The spell was powerful, but not without its drawbacks. First, it required direct contact with the target, just like the Rest rune. Second, the mana cost was absurd, around 98% of his full capacity just for a single use. That alone limited its frequency, and in hindsight, Faust realized he didn't need to prepare so many copies as he did. But perhaps having extras wouldn't hurt.
His temporary base had evolved rapidly. The sandstone walls were now etched with Detonation runes, carved meticulously using the barely functional sword he'd scavenged from the battlefield. In one corner, he had created a modest Consume ritual circle—just wide enough for two bodies at a time. The pit wasn't deep, just a few centimeters, but it was serviceable.
Each day, Faust spent time reading the book he'd taken from the temple. He also ventured outside, listening intently to the native tongue. And though it had only been two days, his progress was remarkable.
He had already identified several words:
Gin was money.
Trikki was kill.
Malla was bastard or other insult.
Molo was enough or sufficient.
He could even speak them, though his fluency was still rudimentary. Nonetheless, the language seemed simpler than his own, and he estimated he'd be able to decipher and speak it fully within a few more days.
Besides deciphering the language, Faust had also tried to uncover clues about his trial. So far, he had found none.
To prepare even further, he scouted the city, memorizing paths and safe spots in case of danger.
Two days later.
During one of his scouting runs, Faust noticed a commotion near the center of the city, close to the Ocean Goddess statue.
Curious, he watched from a distance.
A group of adventurers had gathered around the statue. Some weren't adventurers, yet mingled with the crowd all the same.
At the center, Morrigan stood atop a shimmering mana barrier. His jet-black hair swayed in the wind, his tone resolute and commanding.
"My fellow adventurers," he began, "most of us are struggling with our eighth trial… so what if we cooperate? Several of us have already agreed."
The crowd turned, whispering and trying to identify who had accepted.
A few adventurers stepped forward.
One of them was familiar to Faust—a woman in her twenties with nearly white blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and pale, flawless skin.
Is that Maya? So she made it to this trial too… of course she did. Even I got through. I don't see Arien, though. I guess she didn't make it past the desert.
Faust remained calm. He had no reason to be surprised that someone stronger than him had succeeded.
Heh… I must be one of the weakest ones here.
Another woman stepped forward who looked similar to Maya, though noticeably curvier. Moon, her cousin and fellow companion during the eighth trial.
Several others followed: a tall man with long black hair, a muscular warrior wielding a spear, and a small-framed woman dragging a massive mace nearly twice their size.
Morrigan smiled.
"Maya, the Wind Princess, a highly esteemed gold-ranked adventurer, has joined us. Not only her, but her cousin, Moon of the Five Winds, as well."
Murmurs of awe filled the air, both Maya and Moon were famous among the adventurers.
"That's not all, friends! Xuanzi, the Black Wanderer. Ji, the Bloodied Spearman. Lan, Mace of Law… they've all joined our cause! Alone, we face hardship. But together, we can overcome this trial with ease!"
These were well-known gold-ranked adventurers. Some had failed their first attempts and left, or returned to report to their respective guilds. Others had simply been biding their time.
Maya, especially, was known as a prodigy of wind mana which was feared by many and admired by more.
As Morrigan ended his speech, a wave of adventurers eagerly rushed forward, asking to join while others walked in the opposite direction, leaving the place as they hadn't been convinced by him.
But Morrigan's gaze drifted toward Faust's hiding spot. His expression turned serious, and Faust immediately noticed.
Without hesitation, Faust slipped out of sight.
Walking through the alleys with a grim expression.
This guy already noticed be twice… he is dangerous. Besides that, his words make no sense. He surely is not the first one to go ahead and try to gather a group and complete the trials together... there is probably a reason most of them hadn't formed groups yet… Shit, I still know too little even with the Old Rat Prince memories.
With that in mind, Faust walked through multiple different paths before heading back to his base.
There, he sat cross-legged on the floor as he began meditating and accumulating more mana.
"It's not enough… too far from enough!"
Faust murmured to himself, as his focus increased even further.