Both Dallions burst into instances and attacked. The echo performed the unique type of line attacks Dallion had experienced in the corridor, while Dallion struck with his vibrating harpsisword, this time adding spark attacks to the mix. Red rectangles were everywhere, popping up then disappearing as the respective instances were killed. It was like watching being in the middle of a constant field of very blocky explosions.

I should have studied more grand strategy, Dallion thought as he tried to force his preferred instance. The problem was that his echo did the same. A tug of war ensued on top of everything else as both sides simultaneously fought, while striving for dominance of reality.

Spark versus Star skills. The fight was so dynamic that there was no way of telling who had the upper hand. One moment all but ten instances of the echo would be destroyed, the next—Dallion was struggling with five left. It had been a while since Dallion had experienced such a fight. The last time was back in the world swords, facing dryad guardians. This was a lot more intense, and unlike before, Dallion’s weapons weren’t jumping in to help. Apparently, passing the fourth gate had put an end to that practice.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the echo said. “It won’t work.”

“You don’t know everything I’m thinking,” Dallion replied.

“You’re wondering if acting on reflex would give you an edge. It won’t.”

There was a time when Dallion would have taken that as a challenge to prove his echo wrong. Now he knew better. There were no obvious shortcuts in a fight. If anything, shortcuts created weaknesses. As Vend had once said, it takes a lot of skill and knowledge to make use of a shortcut.

The number of instances slowly increased. Each burst slowly climbed up, in an attempt for one side to gain an advantage. The change was subtle—only one at a time—meant to give the slightest unnoticeable boost to one side. A hundred became a hundred and one, then two. Around a hundred and twenty Dallion started to feel the strain. In theory, he was supposed to be able to maintain twice the amount of his mind trait, possibly a few more. In reality, he had rarely had to use more than a hundred and definitely not for as long and intently.

“Lux, explode!” Dallion ordered.

The flames around him expanded, filling the chamber in blue fire. In his mind, Dallion could see the crackling, infested echo shriven in pain. In reality, that’s not what occurred. All but a dozen of the enemy instances vanished. The remaining ones, however, sliced through the flames with the darkness typical for a chainling. When all was over there were only eight instances left. Without warning, each of them pulled out a machine gun, filling the chamber with a rain of bullets.

“Two can play at that game,” the echo said. “I can’t copy all your skills, but neither can you.”

How the heck do you have a machine gun? Dallion thought, hiding behind the armadil shield, which had tripled in size in order to cover his entire body.

“It’s your fear,” the echo shouted while still shooting. “The thought that you’d gain the ability to construct tech from Earth is yours. Who am I to say if it’s wrong or right? I’m just taking advantage of what you’re providing me.”

“Damnit!” Dallion hissed.

The battle against the Star’s echo had been ingrained into his mind to the point that he instinctively associated modern weaponry with the Star. There’d been no instance in which Arthurows had used anything Earth-related, other than clothes, but the fear was still there.

Instances vanished almost at the rate that Dallion created them. To make matters worse, his echo was once more steadily increasing the number he had. The dozen became twenty, then fifty.

“Lux, again!” Dallion shouted.

Flames filled the chamber, reducing the echo’s instances once more. The shooting didn’t stop, though, as if the machine gun had an unlimited supply of bullets.

Spark! Dallion thought as he played a chord on his harpsisword.

Light extended along the tendrils, causing several more of the echo’s instances to wither away. Sadly, the effect lasted barely a few seconds. Quickly fading away. Despite his current train and skill levels, there were still things beyond Dallion’s capabilities. Combining spark with music was one of them.

“You can’t win by being on the defensive,” the echo said.

Gleam, I’ll need your help.

As soon as he said so, the shardfly disappeared. In her place, the whip blade emerged, extending throughout the chamber. It didn’t touch any instances of the echo, but reduced its mobility by a fair amount. Another burst of blue flames followed, though they were quickly cut up by black blades.

For the briefest of moments, an opening formed, a crack between instances that one could take advantage of. It was risky and by no means easy. Dallion decided to go for it, regardless. Combining athletics and acrobatics, he rushed along the invisible path that went through the echo’s instances, then spun around combining a spark attack with a line attack.

A line of destruction cut into the walls of the chamber, causing all but five instances to vanish in the process.

MODERATE WOUND

Your health has been reduced by 20%

A red rectangle appeared as a bullet hid Dallion in his left shoulder. That was unfortunate, but it was too late to have second thoughts.

Lux! Dallion ordered.

Once again, the firebird burst into flames. Almost simultaneously, Dallion did another attack combo.

MAJOR WOUND

Your health has been reduced by 50%

A second bullet hit him in the chest. After that, none followed.

“Reckless as always,” the echo said. There were no more additional instances anymore, just a single opponent holding a machine gun. Cracks of light were covering his entire body. “You came quite close. One more shot and you would have failed.”

Dallion felt a soothing warmth surrounding him, as Lux covered him in healing flames. Almost instantly, the health restoration effects kicked in.

“You’ve gained a lot of skill at the expense of imagination. There was a time when you’d have been a lot more daring.”

“Didn’t you say I was reckless?”

“You’ll always remain reckless.”

The cracks continued to spread throughout the echo’s body. In places entire pieces broke off, causing rays of light to shine from within.

“You’ll get a reward,” the echo said. “Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t going to ask that.”

“Sure.” The echo laughed. “You’ll get your standard reward, but no hidden prizes and no achievements. It’s just another trial. You only won because you put everything on the line.”

“That’s how it usually goes.”

“No. That’s how the weak do it. Still, even the weak survive, struggling to become strong. Once piece of advice before I disappear again.” The echo moved closer. “As long as you bleed, the shardfly will always be able to tell where you are. Keep it in mind.”

The echo flashed out of existence. In its place, a large green rectangle emerged.

You have broken through your seventieth barrier

You are level 70.

Choose the trait that you value the most.

Seven smaller rectangles were underneath—seven choices to make. One of them was gray with three question marks, even if at this point it was obvious that it stood for magic. Regardless, Dallion chose the body trait, increasing it to thirty-nine. An achievement would have been nice. That way, he’d pass forty. Hopefully, he’d be able to do so in future.

You could have done better, Nil grumbled. There were plenty of openings that you didn’t take advantage of, not to mention your own defenses were like a sieve.

“You’re in form.” Dallion lay on the floor of the chamber.

The trial had left him exhausted to the point that he didn’t even have the strength to argue with the old echo. Instead, he closed his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them up again, Dallion was back on the surface again, just above a vast pool of steaming water. His instinct made him jump up. His muscles screamed in agony, feeling like hard rubber.

“I changed the place a bit,” Gen said. “Now you have a hot-spring bathhouse.

“Amusing,” Dallion managed to say. The pain was quickly swept away, though the sense of fatigue remained. That was unfortunate, given that he was about to go for a second trial.

“You should rest.”

“Don’t have much choice. If I don’t boost my body more, things won’t be too much fun outside.”

“I know. You can’t complete two trials. You’ll fail.”

There was nothing that could be said to that. It was one of the damned if you do, damned if you don’t situations. Gleam was already at risk. If Dallion didn’t improve in his realm, so would he.

Maybe it’s not bad to rest a bit more, he thought. At least until his body relaxed a bit.

It was tempting to check out the new bathhouse in his realm. Ultimately, Dallion decided not to do it, but instead sit back on the ground. Lux had done a good job restoring his health. He’d be able to get rid of the muscle stiffness as well. Come to think of it, there was no trace of the firebird. Dallion looked around, then tried calling him, but his familiar stubbornly refused to show up. This was rather untypical. Of all the familiars, Lux was the one who was the most eager to please.

“I asked them to give us a moment,” a voice said. Rather, it was a combination of musical chords that merged together to form speech.

“Harp?” Dallion turned around.

The nymph was there, standing nearby, blobs of relief floating throughout her body. She was wearing her full battle gear as well as a harpsisword, though not the one she was guardian of; the weapon she held was made entirely of water given form.

“You won’t survive the real world if you go back,” she said. “Not with your skills.”

“That’s why I need to—”

“You don’t need to pass another trial,” she interrupted. “This one did what it was supposed to. It helped you combine attack and music. I’ll help you train that ability so you can use it at will, not only when your existence is threatened.”

“I won’t be able to kill the shardfly with just that.”

“No, not yet. But you’ll be able to defend against it. Every little bit helps. Also, maybe if you put in the effort you might earn another body-related achievement?”

There was no arguing against that. Dallion considered his options and found himself agreeing with the guardian. An hour later, his training began. It was a lot different from what he expected it to be. Not that the nymph wasn’t pushing him to his limit—she was. Rather. It was the apparent lack of focus that confused Dallion. Every other training he had done so far involved repeating similar actions or activities until he got the hang of it. Here, the nymph had him do as many different activities as possible, while also maintaining a vibrating blade. Climbing, running, acrobatics, swimming, were switched every few hours. Each switch his concentration would wane, causing the blade to return to its motionless state.

Days stretched to weeks. At first Dallion was anxious, wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. In time, his focus shifted from getting it done to getting it done right.

As it turned out, a lot was required to combine both skills. Vibrations had a tendency to die out quickly. The easy way was to strike something every few seconds to keep the vibrations going. The real trick, though, was waving the weapon in such fashion so as to keep the vibration going even without hitting anything.

After a number of tries, Dallion managed to maintain the vibration for five seconds. A few days later, he increased the time to seven, then ten, then finally fifteen. That was his current barrier, but given his other skills, it was more than enough. If he couldn’t defeat an enemy in fifteen seconds using this method, he wasn’t going to be able to do so for longer.