Chapter 72: Kuss's Request

Under the astonished gazes of Mishus, Kus, and Little Black, Rollin’s body—which should have crashed to the ground—was instead supported powerfully by his hands, flipping head over heels and landing upright after soaring four and a half meters through the air. Instantly, fine arcs of electricity flickered rapidly over his body as he unleashed the full force of Lightning Speed, sprinting toward the wall that now stood only twenty meters away.

This string of astonishing movements left the two people and one donkey behind him gaping in shock. None of them had expected that a mage like Rollin could coordinate his body so perfectly in such a split second. Even for a third-level warrior, executing this sequence would be extremely difficult, especially at such breakneck speed—most would have crashed to the ground before they could even react.

In truth, before the second trial, Rollin had been incapable of such nearly flawless bodily coordination. Yet how had he battled that puppet before? With utter desperation! He fought for his life, relying on neither magic nor mental power, dueling to the death for two full hours. Such life-and-death struggles, though perilous, are undeniably transformative. Within those two short hours, through absolute focus and the crucible of mortal combat, his physical combat skills and instincts had advanced dramatically. It was this leap forward that enabled him to perform the acrobatic feat that now turned the tide.

With the potent aid of Lightning Speed, Rollin shot toward the opposite wall like a released arrow. In the blink of an eye, he covered more than ten meters. As he neared the wall, he kicked off the ground with all his might, his body springing into the air and tracing a graceful arc before landing steadily beneath the wall.

At that moment, Rollin suddenly sensed the strange energy enveloping the grand hall vanish without warning. Little Black, who had been galloping frantically, also abruptly accelerated, surging ahead just as Rollin had, but managed to keep from falling only through instinct and the natural agility of a fourth-level magic beast. Even so, it skidded forward another seventy or eighty meters before finally coming to a stop, its large eyes darting around in confusion, unsure of what had just occurred.

Suddenly, a magnificent and ethereal music filled the hall. Rollin and the others looked on in astonishment as colorful clouds gathered above the Mishus Hall, swirling with layers of pure white mist. Dozens of towering white stone pillars at the sides, each several tens of meters high, were now shrouded in clouds and fog—a scene of incomparable splendor.

A thunderous rumble erupted from above. Through the billowing mist, Rollin could just make out an enormous arched dome overhead splitting open, a massive crack several meters wide appearing. A faint golden light shone down through the gap.

At that moment—

“Hahaha… More than ten thousand years have passed, Black Robe, and at last we meet again!” A grand, booming voice rolled down from the crack above, overflowing with joy.

“Hmph, White Robe, you’re always putting on such fancy displays. Ten thousand years have passed, and you’re still as pretentious as ever!” Mishus, disheveled in his black robe, snorted in disdain.

“Haha, Black Robe, you’re no different yourself! Still have the nerve to mock me!” The voice from above seemed unbothered by Mishus’s rudeness. “Little one, my thanks to you. Without you, who knows when Black Robe and I would meet again? Come on up! Mishus’s treasure is right here for you!”

No sooner had the words fallen than the clouds above the hall began to converge, forming a path that started at Rollin’s feet and rose upward. In moments, a towering rainbow staircase stretched from where Rollin stood all the way to the crack high up in the arched dome.

Rollin’s mind was in turmoil. From the very start, he had sensed the extraordinary presence of the ruin’s master. After receiving the bountiful rewards from the successive trials, his reverence had only grown. Though Mishus claimed to be a puppet crafted in his image by the ancient master ten thousand years ago, Rollin had always regarded him as the master himself.

Yet now, with such an imposing display, Rollin sensed that the true master was the one whose voice echoed from the crack above. After all, compared to the grand, unseen master who summoned clouds and mist, Mishus seemed almost too casual.

Now, hearing the invitation from above, Rollin glanced across the hall to Mishus. Though separated by a hundred meters, his third-level mage’s eyes could make out Mishus’s expression clearly. Mishus nodded, indicating he should ascend.

Rollin hesitated no longer, stepping onto the rainbow staircase. The clouds beneath his feet were soft and comfortable, and soon he had climbed more than ten meters. Looking down, his heart skipped a beat; one misstep from such a height would surely make him the first third-level mage in history to fall to his death.

Suspended in midair, Kus watched all of this in awe, his respect for the master above boundless. He could see clearly that the rainbow clouds were condensed from water elements in the air. Creating one or two would be nothing, but to summon countless clouds and instantly fashion a staircase to the heavens—such control over water elements was beyond even most Domain-level powers. Recalling the strange energy that had filled the hall, Kus’s heart burned with hope. Having long since resigned himself to life as a drifting soul, he now felt that fate might finally be offering him a chance to change.

Seeing his master ascend, Little Black could not remain still. Trotting to the base of the staircase, he raised his foreleg to climb, but found himself stepping through empty air—the clouds dispersing as Rollin passed. The rainbow staircase was already fading behind Rollin, leaving a shrinking, floating path in the air—a truly marvelous sight.

Denied entry, the donkey grew indignant, braying up at the dome in protest.

“Hehe, little one,” the voice from above replied gently, “your master won’t be long. Just wait patiently below. And you, the soul, feel free to wander the hall. I won’t invite you up.” The master’s words were so gentle and soothing that it was impossible to feel resentment.

The donkey fell silent at once.

Floating in the air, Kus immediately bowed toward the crack above, his voice trembling. “My lord, I beg your pardon, but is there any hope for me—a soul—to regain my body?” His ancient heart, tempered by thousands of years, now raced with anxiety. Would this kindly master answer him? And if so, would the answer be the one he dreaded?

He did not have to wait long. The voice from above resounded again: “Kus, your condition is actually not difficult to remedy.”

Kus’s face lit with joy, listening intently.

“However, for now, neither Black Robe nor I can help you,” the voice continued.

The smile froze on Kus’s face, but hope was rekindled with the next words.

“Though we cannot help you, the little one you follow can. He has obtained both the art and the formula of alchemy. If he reaches the Domain level and can craft a nine-star elixir, your lost body can be restored.”

Kus bowed deeply. “Thank you, my lord! I am deeply grateful!” Though his restoration was not immediate, hope had returned. With his guidance, Rollin’s chances of reaching the Domain were strong.

“Uncle Kus, don’t worry. I promise, I’ll restore your body!” Rollin, now nearly at the arched dome, called down to the drifting soul below. It was thanks to Kus’s help that he had become a mage and reached third level in just two years, gained entry to the Mishus Hall, and obtained the potion formula to heal his brother’s legs. Without Kus, none of this would have been possible. Now, when Kus needed him, he would not hesitate.

By this time, Rollin had reached the crack in the dome. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, declaring, “Mishus’s treasure, here I come!”