Chapter 545 – To Study Runes.

The duel reached a turning point as Robert fought with every ounce of strength. His eyes narrowed when he noticed his opponent overextending during a powerful attack. In that split second his mind raced and he calculated his next move precisely. Though his body trembled from fatigue and his enchanted sword flickered with weakened runic energy, he seized the moment. He shifted his weight and redirected his momentum into a cunning counter. With a swift, deliberate thrust his blade found a gap in the enemy’s defense. His opponent staggered, his guard collapsing under the force of Robert’s calculated strike.

“I yield…”

Robert slowly lowered his sword as his opponent sank to his knees in surrender. The arena erupted in thunderous applause that reverberated off the stone walls. His calculated strikes had drained the magic from his enchanted blade, and he could sense the runic charges diminishing to nearly half their original strength. His breathing came in heavy bursts, and his limbs ached with exhaustion. Yet he still managed to secure a victory over this very powerful knight, something he was proud of.

In the sudden quiet that followed the enemy’s capitulation, Robert allowed himself a brief moment to gather his wits. The cheering of the crowd filled the vast coliseum, yet the harsh reality of the ascension trial pressed upon him, this was not his only opponent. The lord raised his hand and everything went quiet as he spoke.

“You did well with your first opponent, my Champion, but this is just the beginning.”

He took a moment to regain his stamina as his previous opponent bowed before the lord and slowly walked out. His squire appeared before him, guiding him to a shaded part of the arena and offering him a chair.

“Congratulations, Sir Robert!”

“Yeah… Squire, how long do I have before my next opponent arrives.”

“Oh, around… ten minutes?”

“I see…”

He glanced down at the shimmering runes along his sword and shield, their gentle glow now a fainter. The battle had been taxing, and the toll on his body was apparent. His arms ached from the repeated clashes, and his legs burned from the constant movement. In total, he had expended nearly half of his runic charges, and the next fight loomed closer with each passing second. The squire stood beside him, eyes wide with admiration.

“Sir Robert, do you require anything? Water, perhaps? Or should I inspect your armor?”

“You don’t happen to have any recovery potions on you?”

“Ah, yes, here!”

The squire took out three potions—one red, another blue, and an orange one. Robert knew what the colors meant, but before drinking, he asked.

“Are there any more, or is this all?”

“This is all that the lord has provided us with, Sir Robert.”

“Put them away for now. I should be able to recover without them.”

Though exhausted, his stamina and mana were recovering rapidly. He had gained passive skills to aid him in such situations, and it was clear these potions were meant for critical injuries, not the start of battle. He also didn’t know how many opponents he would face or whether the competition would last a single day or multiple. There was a chance that unused potions would be added to a future supply, so he couldn’t afford to use them carelessly.

He got around ten minutes to rest before the doors on the opposite side of the arena opened to reveal his next opponent. His body ached but he knew that he needed to conserve the recovery potions. Robert rose to his feet as his next opponent entered the arena. This warrior was different from the last: taller, broader, with an aura of raw menace. His armor was thicker, covered in crude but effective runes that pulsed with a dull red glow. A jagged greatsword rested on his shoulder, its runes crackling with barely contained energy.

The moment the battle began, Robert was on the defensive. His opponent was relentless, each strike shaking his shield and testing his endurance. The runes on the greatsword enhanced its weight and cutting power, forcing Robert to maneuver carefully. He countered where he could, but every move drained his remaining runic charges.

Minutes passed in a brutal exchange of blows. Robert fought while waiting for the moment to strike. Finally, his opponent overextended, swinging the greatsword too wide. Seizing the opportunity, Robert ducked low and drove his sword into the warrior’s exposed side. The runes on both his blade and armor flared as he pushed forward, forcing his enemy to his knees.

The warrior grunted, gripping his side, before finally lowering his weapon in defeat. The arena roared in approval. Robert exhaled sharply, feeling the last traces of his runic charges flicker and fade. He had won but at great cost. As the next break was called, Robert slumped onto the chair. His squire approached, concern etched on his face.

“Sir Robert, you’re wounded.”

Robert looked down. Blood seeped through the cracks in his armor. His left arm was sluggish, the pain dull but constant. The shield he used had been bent from the repeated heavy attacks and his arm also suffered. He could probably endure the pain but with more battles ahead, this injury would probably cost him this trial.

“Hand me the red potion.”

The squire hesitated before passing it over. Robert uncorked it and downed the bitter liquid in one go. Warmth spread through his body, his wounds closing and strength returning. He flexed his fingers. Not perfect, but much better.

The respite was short-lived. Another opponent entered the arena, this one wielding twin blades enchanted with speed and precision. Robert barely had time to regain his footing before the next battle began.

The fighting blurred into a desperate struggle. He won his third duel, but only barely. By the fourth, exhaustion weighed on him like iron shackles. His movements slowed, his instincts dulled. His opponents grew fiercer, their attacks more unpredictable. His shield cracked under a devastating blow, his sword heavy in his hands.

Then, his final challenger arrived. A towering knight clad in black armor strode forward, wielding a massive two-handed greatsword, similar to the one he saw back at the rune forge. The air around him trembled with dark energy, and the runes on his weapon burned with an ominous glow. The crowd fell silent. This was perhaps the final test. Robert gritted his teeth, raising his sword in defiance as he charged forward but then.

“Uhhh…!?”

Robert jerked awake, his body sprawled on cold stone as reality pressed in. His eyes fluttered open to the soft glow of runic light and the gentle murmur of a familiar voice. Lucille knelt beside him, her eyes full of concern.

“Robert, you are safe now. I am here with you.”

He attempted to rise but his limbs trembled, and he sank back as memories of the illusory trial flooded his mind. The vivid images of clashing swords and glowing runes felt all too real. His heart pounded with the residue of battle, and a cold sweat clung to his skin as if he had truly died in that ascension ritual. The sensation of defeat and rebirth lingered but soon the memories started fading, just like the last time he failed to complete his trial. Everything became cloudy and he could barely remember what had transpired once he went through that door.

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“Breathe Robert, breathe.”

“Increased heart rate detected, caution is advised.

Lucille gently pressed her hand to his cheek, trying to get him to calm down. Sebastian on the other hand was already examining his body through the various sensors inside this underground workshop. Robert’s gaze focused on Lucille’s gentle, reassuring eyes as his senses slowly returned. The cold stone beneath him and the soft magical light reminded him that he was indeed back in the real world. The vivid memories of clashing swords and glowing enchantments began to recede like a fading dream, leaving behind the raw ache of battle and the lingering taste of defeat.

“I… I failed…”

“It’s fine, most people fail the first time around.”

Lucille knelt beside him, her hand warm against his cheek, urging him to take slow, deep breaths. In the quiet of the underground workshop, the rhythmic beeps from nearby display screens offered confirmation that he was right. Sebastian stood there in his new shell to confirm his examination.

“Heart Rate has returned to normal, rest is still advised.”

Robert’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the strange humanoid golem staring down at him. Finally, he decided to get up from the ground. His body was drenched in cold sweat, and guilt weighed on him for making Lucille worry. However, what concerned him most was the trial he had just failed. He couldn’t recall much, but one thing was clear—runes were involved, and the opponents he had faced were anything but normal.

“I’m fine now. You need not worry…”

“Teleportation gate activated. Please do not enter the gate chamber.”

Just as he was about to explain himself, he noticed a light emanating from the teleportation gate chamber. At the same time, Sebastian’s voice rang out, warning them that someone was coming. Moments later, an armored figure stepped through the gate. His movements were calm as if he were merely taking a casual walk. His visor tilted slightly toward Robert, who had yet to fully recover from the fake death within the ascension ritual.

“So… you attempted the ascension. How was it?”

To his surprise, his younger brother immediately understood what had transpired. Before Robert could gather his thoughts and respond, he saw Roland reaching out toward his head.