Surprise appeared both on Dallion's and the chief’s face. Neither expected the attack to work. If anything, the village chief was surprised more. Freezing up, he glanced down at his foot, refusing to believe that he’d been wounded. The bolt was there, sticking from his foot, even if there was no blood.

The confusion lasted for several seconds. During that time, Dallion took his chance to act. Up to now his plan had been to reach the lake and make use of the well guardian. If this realm was a representation of the village, the lake was supposed to be the well, and if that were true, the water golem could potentially help him. The elder’s action presented a new opportunity—in his anger he had linked his awakening room to that of the realm so as to get a better weapon. Doing so, though, had given Dallion the option to enter it.

You’ve no idea how to protect your awakening room, and yet you opened the door for anyone to go inside! Dallion remembered Kalis’ words. The soldier had been furious when Dallion had used that method during the practice rounds. Of course, back then Dallion hadn’t fully awakened. Now that he was, he might as well take the battle into the chief.

Without hesitation, Dallion rushed towards the archway. The village chief didn’t even try to stop him, still mesmerized by his wound. Deciding not to put all his eggs in one basket, Dallion sent out another shot as he leaped into the opening. The bolt split the air, aimed at the chief’s shoulder. Before reaching his target, though, the old man twisted his body to the side. Dallion shot two more bolts. Before he could see the results, the surrounding realm changed.

With a loud thump, Dallion landed on a hard stone floor.

“Damn it!” he whispered. He had been so close. If the chief hadn’t snapped out of it, the battle could already have been won. On the other hand, he was fortunate to have landed a shot at all.

Based on his experience in the awakening shrine, the bolt should have reduced the chief’s health by half. Considering the weak spot bonus, the old man likely had twenty-five percent left. Another hit, or even a smack with the buckler, and Dallion could well be the victor.

“Where are you?” he looked around. There was no sign of the chief. Following the rules of this place, only enemies appeared at the arena. The realm owner was likely to be waiting in the starting room. That gave him a home advantage, but at least Dallion could rest assured that there would be no golem to face.

The arena itself was much more elaborate than Dallion’s. While the floor was completely of stone, the walls had a number of decorations on them—sets of decorative armor, paintings depicting fight scenes, even a few portraits of what looked like the village chief in his youth. The general facial features were clearly identifiable, although there was no doubt that the years hadn’t treated the man well. Come to think of it, the portrait looked far closer to the echo Dallion had defeated.

“Nice crib.” Dallion went to one of the armor sets.

A lot of modern artists would have gone crazy about it back on Earth. The armor was made entirely of pressed paper, like a delicate papier mâché. The set itself depicted a cross between Norse and Greek design, Roman Viking if Dallion was pressed to come up with a name. Interestingly enough, the only weapons were those in the paintings.

Makes sense, Dallion thought. It wouldn’t be very smart to give weapons and armor to anyone who just came here. The display was meant just to glorify the chief.

“Talk about self-centered…”

Since the entrance from the village realm had vanished, Dallion made his way to the only door in the hall. It was as large and ornate as everything else here. Dallion expected it to be barred from the other side. However, after a quick try, it turned out not to be. That was somewhat careless on the chief’s part, or maybe the setup of a trap?

The corridor leading on from the arena was very different from Dallion’s. It was wide, well lit and covered with a long, if somewhat crude, carpet. A few hundred steps further, doors on the walls became visible. All of them were set in pairs facing each other, and all seemed to be chained shut. Dallion tried cracking one open just to peek inside, but the large metal chains were too tight. The most he was able to do was to move a door half an inch before giving up.

Okay, so maybe this isn’t the nicest place, he thought.

After three sets of doors, finally a pair of “normal” ones appeared. Left or right? That was the question. Dallion had spent hundreds of hours pondering that question when playing video games. Experience had taught him that when in doubt, turn right, which was exactly what he did.

The room he entered turned out to be the chief’s awakening room. It was considerably larger than Dallion’s with several sections covered with weapons and armor. Just looking at it suggested that the chief had to be at a level nine at least.

Dallion swallowed. He hadn’t expected such a vast difference. Based on the conversations he’d had with Gloria and Veil, the chief wasn’t supposed to be more than a level five. Had he been hiding his strength all this time?

Slowly, Dallion moved to the “attack section” of the room. Twelve weapons were framed on the wall, including a dartbow similar to the one Dallion had. In addition, there were five swords of various shapes and sizes, two sets of daggers—placed one over the other in an x-cross manner—three clubs, and morning star flail. It would almost have been impressive, if all but two swords weren't chained to the wall.

“You’re not supposed to touch those,” a deep metallic voice said from behind.