Ivor stepped back and slowly exhaled. The chamber felt calr now. He lowered his sword slightly and looked at the blade, his attention settling on the last few inches near the tip where he had forced the mana to gather.
He replayed the fight in his mind. The control had been rough and unstable. He still could not hold the concentrated mana at the tip for more than a brief instant, and every attempt before the final strikes had drained his core faster than he liked.
Yet the difference had been clear. Even that crude concentration had cut deeper than the wide coating he had used earlier. It had proven sothing important. Precision did not always require perfect control. Even an imperfect focus of mana could change the result of a strike.
He walked slowly between the pillars while his breathing steadied and his mana circulation cald. His eyes moved toward the chamber walls where more carvings had been etched into the stone. These murals were smaller than the ones in the corridor but placed carefully along the edges of the room, where light from ancient torches might once have reached them.
The images were worn by ti, yet their aning remained unmistakable.
Humans fighting beasts were carved into the stone, but the blows shown were never aid at the center of the body. Spears drove into the inside of elbows. Blades slipped between the narrow gaps of knee joints.
Axes bit into the base of tails where bone and muscle joined together. One carving showed a massive beast collapsing not from a wound to the chest but from a shattered leg hinge that robbed it of balance. Another showed a fighter avoiding thick armor plates and instead cutting into the soft seams beneath them.
There were no written words anywhere on the wall, but the ssage was clear.
Against strength and reinforcent, brute force ant nothing.
Only precision mattered.
A seam of blue light appeared on the far wall, and the stone began to split into an opening.
Ivor moved toward the doorway, sword steady in his hand, and as he stepped through, he carried the third lesson with him more firmly than the first two. His body could learn stability and his mind could hold rhythm, but without precision, both of those were just preparation for wasted effort.
If he wanted to survive the deeper realms, he would need to sharpen what he already had into sothing narrower and more exact, until even reinforcent stopped feeling like protection and started feeling like a map of where to strike.
The passage from the previous chamber opened into a wide circular arena carved deep into the mountain. The ceiling rose higher than the rooms before it, and the stone floor carried long scratches and cracks left by countless past battles. The walls were smooth except for several narrow recesses cut into the rock at even distances around the circle.
Ivor stepped inside slowly and let his Soul Sense expand outward.
The room felt empty.
He turned once, studying the walls, the floor, and the recesses. Nothing moved. There were no murals here, no shifting ground, no mist or traps. For a brief mont it felt like a pause between trials.
Then a skeleton stepped out of one of the wall recesses. It was a normal one. No black reinforcent. No heavy armor. Just a simple bone fra carrying a thin sword.
Ivor didn't rush forward. He watched it approach, waiting to see if the room would react to anything else.
Nothing happened.
The skeleton closed the distance and swung its sword. Ivor stepped in and cut cleanly through its neck. The skull split and the bones collapsed onto the stone floor.
He stood still again, waiting.
Another skeleton erged from a different recess. This one barely made it two steps into the arena before Ivor moved. His sword flashed once, coated briefly in mana, and the skeleton broke apart under the strike.
He frowned slightly.
They were weak.
The next skeleton stepped out a mont later.
This ti Ivor didn't bother using mana. He let the blade remain bare and t the attack directly. The skeleton swung first. Ivor blocked, twisted his wrist, and cut through the ribs on the return strike. The skeleton collapsed after two more quick movents.
Another appeared. Again he used only the steel of his sword. The fight lasted three movents before the bones shattered. More skeletons began stepping into the arena. At first they still ca one at a ti. Ivor turned easily between them, cutting one down and then another without effort. The bodies piled slowly across the scratched stone floor.
Then the pattern changed.
Two skeletons erged from different recesses at the sa ti. Ivor stepped toward one and split its skull with a single strike, but the second skeleton reached him before the first body finished falling. He blocked the attack and drove the blade through its spine.
A third skeleton climbed out of another recess.
Then another.
The pace began to rise.
Ivor moved toward the center of the arena as more skeletons stepped into the room. From there he could watch the entire circle of wall recesses and prevent anything from reaching him from behind.
The skeletons approached from multiple directions now.
One ca from the left.
Another from the right.
Ivor cut the first down with a quick strike, turned, and finished the second in two clean movents. A third skeleton reached him before he could reset his stance.
He coated the sword with mana again.
The blade flashed blue and the skeleton broke apart in a single slash.
More skeletons followed.
Their individual strength hadn't changed. Each one remained weak, easy to destroy. But they kept appearing from the walls without pause.
Ivor began striking faster. Mana coated the blade again and again as he cut down the skeletons before they could surround him. One swing shattered a skull. Another split a ribcage. A third severed a spine.
But every ti a skeleton fell, another stepped into the arena. He realized the pattern quickly. The skeletons would not stop. This room was not testing skill or precision.
It was testing endurance.
Ivor forced himself to slow down. If he continued using mana on every strike, his core would drain long before the skeletons stopped appearing. He allowed the coating to fade again and returned to fighting with the naked blade.
The fights beca slightly longer without mana, but the cost inside his core dropped sharply. More skeletons stepped into the arena.
Five at once.
Ivor cut down the first with two strikes, twisted past the second, and broke its spine. The third reached him before he could recover.
Mana flashed briefly across his blade.
The skeleton shattered under the strike.
He exhaled slowly and adjusted again.
His Soul Sense, which had been spread widely across the arena, began shrinking. The broad range was unnecessary and wasted energy. Instead he narrowed it down until it covered barely three feet around his body.
Anything outside that range didn't matter.
Only the next attack did.
Skeletons continued erging from the walls. One stepped forward. Ivor cut it down. Another followed. He broke its knee and split the skull. Another reached him. A short burst of mana flashed across the blade and the skeleton fell in a single strike.
Now his movents grew steady and controlled.
He was using minimal mana and minimal sensing. Only the skeletons that stepped within reach existed. The arena continued feeding him enemies, and Ivor stood at the center of the chamber, cutting them down one by one as the trial of endurance truly began.
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