Chương 82: Gallery of the Returning Wind

Solid ground returned beneath Rowan's feet. He looked down. He was standing on a gray-white stone platform. There was no dust on its surface, nor any sign of weathering. Only a ring of faint spiraling patterns had been carved around the edge. Rowan raised his head. A long gallery extended from the front of the platform. It didn't look particularly wide. The floor was paved with long, pale-white bricks, while tall stone pillars stood at regular intervals on both sides. There were no walls between the pillars.

In their place hung nearly transparent curtains of pale-cyan wind. Beyond the wind curtains, Rowan could faintly make out blurred rooftops and the outlines of tall towers. Farther still was a sky so pale it seemed almost colorless. Rowan watched for a while. He couldn't tell whether those sights truly existed or were merely reflections cast upon the wind curtains. The gallery extended straight ahead. At the end of his vision hung a gray-white stone bell. There was no clapper beneath it.

Behind the bell stood a tightly shut ancient stone door. It looked to be only around a hundred meters away. Warm wind blew from the direction of the stone bell. It passed through the center of the gallery. After reaching the platform beneath Rowan's feet, it turned back along the pillars on both sides. Many shallow grooves had been carved into the floor. The returning currents flowed into those grooves and traveled back toward the depths of the gallery. A withered yellow leaf drifted over from ahead.

It landed at the edge of the platform. But instead of continuing behind Rowan— It suddenly veered sideways. Following one of the grooves along the ground, it floated back into the gallery. A moment later— The same leaf appeared again in the distance. Rowan's gaze shifted slightly. The wind here never left. It remained trapped within the gallery, circulating endlessly. The wind curtains on both sides occasionally rippled. Through the pale-cyan currents, he could see several blurred figures.

Some stood on platforms similar to his, checking their equipment. Others attempted to touch the wind curtains. But no sound could pass through. Every candidate had been isolated within their own gallery. At that moment— A voice traveled from the depths of the gallery upon the returning wind. It was impossible to tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman. Nor could Rowan determine how far away it was. [Candidate.] [Welcome to the Mirrorheart Academy of the Returning Wind.] The wind curtains on both sides lit up simultaneously. [What the heart reflects—] [The wind shall return.] [First Trial—Gallery of the Returning Wind.] [Time limit: thirty minutes.] [Cross the gallery and ring the Bell of the Returning Wind.] [Weapons and spells are unrestricted.] [The trial begins upon leaving the Waiting-Wind Platform.] [Combat ends upon returning to the Waiting-Wind Platform.] As the voice faded— The Returning Wind Sigil on Rowan's left wrist appeared again.

A complete pale-cyan ring formed around the outer edge of the wind patterns. A small section of that ring was already slowly fading. The countdown had begun. Rowan looked toward the gallery again. The wind that had been circulating moments earlier abruptly stopped. The next instant— The pale-cyan light within the grooves flowed toward the center of the gallery. Wind converged from every direction. It swept up the tiny fragments of stone scattered between the bricks. A humanoid outline gradually appeared.

The feet formed first. Then came a narrow-sleeved robe, a fitted waist, and a pair of gray-white hands. The figure stood slightly taller than Rowan. Its clothing resembled some ancient combat uniform of the academy. Its body was composed entirely of translucent gray-white currents. There were no eyes, nose, or mouth upon its face. Only a spiraling wind pattern resembling an eye floated at the center of its forehead. In its right hand was a straight sword. The blade was long and narrow. It had no sharpened edge.

Yet it was formed from highly condensed wind, with currents constantly trailing from its sides. The Battle Shade stood at the center of the gallery. Its sword point angled toward the ground. It remained perfectly still. Rowan gripped his own blade in his right hand. An arcing Water Blade began forming beside him. The Battle Shade still showed no reaction. Rowan stepped forward. The sole of his shoe crossed the spiraling pattern at the edge of the platform.

The wind-eye on the Battle Shade's forehead abruptly lit up. The gray-white figure moved instantly. Its speed wasn't so fast that Rowan couldn't follow it. The wind blade swept upward from below. Rowan had intended to turn aside, then use his own straight sword to pin down the shade's wrist. But the Battle Shade's blade suddenly changed direction. The upward cut became a horizontal slash. It sealed off Rowan's intended escape route before he could move. Rowan was forced half a step backward.

The Water Blade shot out from his right side. Before it had even left Rowan— The Battle Shade had already shifted in the opposite direction. The Water Blade scraped across its shoulder. It dispersed only a small patch of gray-white wind. Rowan immediately thrust his left hand forward. The spell structure of Frost-Chill Gauntlets unfolded across his palm. Frost-white armor rapidly condensed along his fingers and wrist. He spread his fingers and reached for the Battle Shade's sword arm.

But the shade flipped its blade first. The back of the sword struck Rowan's forearm. A dull impact traveled through the bone. His hand was knocked off course. The Battle Shade continued advancing. It didn't pause. The edgeless straight sword pressed toward Rowan's shoulder, waist, and knee in rapid succession. None of the strikes carried overwhelming force. Its speed and strength were roughly equal to Rowan's own. But every time Rowan prepared to block— The blade changed direction in advance.

When he prepared to create distance— The Battle Shade sealed off his retreat first. When he tried to close in— The sword was already held horizontally between them. It was as though every action Rowan intended to take had been seen before it truly occurred. The straight sword came down toward his face again. This time, its angle changed too quickly. Rowan didn't even have time to form a complete judgment. His body had already turned one shoulder aside. His right hand raised the straight sword. Clang!

The two blades collided head-on for the first time. The Battle Shade hadn't avoided it in advance. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The impact numbed the webbing between Rowan's thumb and forefinger. Before he could think further— The shade slid its blade along Rowan's sword and drove the hilt toward his chest. Rowan retreated quickly. He drew several breaths. Only a few steps remained between him and the Waiting-Wind Platform.

If this continued— He would be forced back little by little. Rowan's gaze settled on the gray-white currents flowing through the shade's chest. If normal offense and defense gave him no opening— Then he would create one. The hand holding his blade lowered slightly. He deliberately exposed his chest. The Battle Shade didn't hesitate. Its wind blade thrust forward. It seemed completely unconcerned with whether Rowan had intentionally left an opening.

The instant the sword point struck his chest— The Three-Luminary Life-Warding Clasp suddenly heated up. A nearly transparent barrier unfolded from beneath his clothes. The wind blade was stopped by force. Dense ripples spread across the barrier. The Battle Shade's movement paused for an instant. Rowan didn't retreat. His straight sword cut upward from below and pinned down the shade's right arm. The Water Blade that had been hovering beside him shot forward at the same time.

At close range, it pierced into the Battle Shade's waist. His frost-armored left hand pressed against the shade's shoulder. The cold of Frost-Chill Gauntlets poured into it through the point of contact. The rapidly flowing gray-white currents seemed to freeze over. For the first time, the Battle Shade lost its stability. Its body began collapsing from the shoulder. The Water Blade continued cutting inward. The next instant— The entire Battle Shade exploded apart. Gray-white wind scattered in every direction.

The gallery became empty again. Done! Rowan let out a long breath. Wellspring Step activated. Water surged beneath his feet. Rowan shot forward along the gallery. Ten meters. Twenty. The Waiting-Wind Platform rapidly receded behind him. He could now faintly see patterns on the Bell of the Returning Wind similar to those of the Returning Wind Sigil. At that moment— The grooves in the ground lit up again. The gray-white currents that had been scattered moments earlier had not disappeared.

They rolled forward along both sides of the gallery. The withered yellow leaf drifted past Rowan. The wind converged again ahead. Feet. Combat robes. A faceless head. And the edgeless straight sword— Charging directly toward Rowan once more. There was another one? Perhaps if he defeated it repeatedly, he could use the intervals to reach the end. The Battle Shade gave him no more time to think. The instant it finished forming, it charged. This time, Rowan didn't probe.

He immediately constructed Frost-Chill Gauntlets and met the wind blade head-on. The moment the frost-white armor met the sword— The compressed wind sliced through the ice along the side of his palm. It left a bloody cut across Rowan's forearm. Rowan tightened his fingers. Frost spread upward along the wind blade. His right-hand sword wedged into the shade's elbow from the side. The Battle Shade drove its left shoulder forward toward Rowan's chest. Rowan didn't evade.

The Three-Luminary Life-Warding Clasp activated a second time. The transparent barrier abruptly unfolded. The collision was heavier than before. The center of the barrier even caved inward for an instant. Rowan used the impact to steady himself. A Water Blade formed almost directly against the Battle Shade's chest. It burst apart instantly. His straight sword followed with a horizontal slash, cutting through the gray-white currents. The Battle Shade collapsed for the second time.

The barrier over Rowan's chest disappeared. But the uppermost crystal on the Three-Luminary Life-Warding Clasp didn't recover as it had before. It flickered slowly. Its light brightened and dimmed. The mental connection between Rowan and the clasp also developed a faint delay. So it couldn't withstand repeated attacks in quick succession. The next strike might cause it to fail. But the Battle Shade had just been dispersed. Rowan still didn't waste the opportunity. Wellspring Step erupted again.

He rapidly closed the distance to the end of the gallery. The Bell of the Returning Wind had become much clearer. Use this interval to reach it! The thought had only just formed— When the wind within the grooves on both sides reversed again. Gray-white currents gathered farther ahead. The Battle Shade formed for the third time. Rowan stopped. The uppermost crystal was still flickering. A considerable distance remained before the end of the gallery.

If he continued trading injuries with the Life-Warding Clasp— He might pass the First Trial. But two more trials remained afterward. Rowan turned and retreated. The Battle Shade immediately pursued him. The edgeless straight sword thrust toward his back. Rowan turned aside and blocked. The instant the blades collided— The shade had already moved to cut off the direction in which Rowan intended to retreat. Rowan could only halt his steps. Wellspring Step activated again. Water pushed his body sideways.

The Battle Shade followed closely. Its blade continued falling. Rowan had no opportunity to organize a complete counterattack. He could only block while retreating toward the Waiting-Wind Platform. The wound on his forearm tore open again. Blood ran down his wrist. The Battle Shade pressed down his straight sword with one hand. Its other hand shoved toward Rowan's shoulder. Rowan retreated with the force. His heel crossed the spiraling pattern at the edge of the platform. The Battle Shade stopped instantly.

Its wind blade halted less than half a foot from Rowan's chest. Then slowly withdrew. It didn't step onto the Waiting-Wind Platform. It simply moved backward. Returning to the gallery. Its sword point angled toward the ground. As though the pursuit had never happened. Rowan looked down at his left wrist. Almost one-third of the wind patterns around the Returning Wind Sigil had already gone dark. Time was passing faster than he had expected. Rowan dispersed the Water Blade.

He didn't immediately leave the platform for a third attempt. The Battle Shade's speed and strength weren't much greater than his own. The real problem was that it always seemed to know what Rowan intended to do. During the first exchange— Every prepared dodge, block, and counterattack had been interrupted before it began. The same had happened during his second assault. The Battle Shade knew he intended to seize the blade. It knew where the Water Blade would appear.

It even knew he planned to guide the attack toward an area protected by the Three-Luminary Life-Warding Clasp. It simply didn't care about being dispersed. But there had been one exception. Rowan recalled the moment when the two straight swords had collided head-on for the first time. That attack had come too suddenly. He hadn't thought about how to block it. His body had reacted first. The Battle Shade hadn't changed the path of its blade in advance. Rowan walked to the edge of the Waiting-Wind Platform.

He gripped his straight sword again. This time, he made a clear decision before crossing the boundary. Once the Battle Shade charged, he would dodge to the left. He stepped forward. The sole of his shoe had only just crossed the spiraling pattern— When the wind-eye on the Battle Shade's forehead lit up. The gray-white figure rushed toward him. Its sword had originally pointed toward the ground. It rose during the charge— But instead of attacking the center of Rowan's body, the blade shifted left in advance.

Perfectly sealing off the direction Rowan had planned to dodge. Rowan didn't follow his original decision. Wellspring Step erupted briefly, pushing him back onto the Waiting-Wind Platform. The Battle Shade followed. Its wind blade stopped abruptly outside the boundary. The wind-eye went dark. Rowan stared at the straight sword inches from his face. It wasn't reacting to his movements. Before Rowan had truly moved left— The Battle Shade had already begun sealing off that direction.

It was reading decisions that had already formed. Rowan looked at the wind circulating endlessly through the gallery. What the heart reflects— The wind shall return. The moment he left the Waiting-Wind Platform, any concrete combat intent formed in his mind was carried to the Battle Shade by the returning wind. That was why it could always change first. But when the Battle Shade actively attacked— It still had to truly swing its sword.

Once the blade had accelerated— Once its center of gravity had shifted— Once its line of attack had formed— It couldn't change its movement without cost. That instinctive block had succeeded not because the Battle Shade had suddenly lost the ability to read him. But because by the time it read Rowan's reaction— Its blade was already colliding with his. Rowan looked down at his left hand. A straight sword could change techniques at the last moment. His body could wait until the attack arrived before dodging.

Spells, however, had to be constructed in advance. If he waited for the Battle Shade to attack before beginning to construct Wellspring Step, it would already be too late. But completing a spell in advance didn't mean he had to decide how to use it in advance. Within his mental sea— The primary mental stream and auxiliary core began operating simultaneously. Two spell structures gradually unfolded. One was Wellspring Step. The other was Frost-Chill Gauntlets.

Frost-white armor slowly condensed along Rowan's left hand. The cold was restrained within his palm and knuckles. He didn't predetermine the direction in which Wellspring Step would move. Nor did he decide in advance whether his left hand would next touch the Battle Shade's sword, wrist, or body. Both spells were fully prepared. The rest— Would be decided only after the Battle Shade truly moved. The wind patterns on his Returning Wind Sigil continued fading. Rowan tightened his grip on the straight sword.

Then stepped off the Waiting-Wind Platform again. The wind-eye on the Battle Shade's forehead lit up. The next instant— The gray-white figure closed in. Its wind blade slashed horizontally. Rowan didn't move. Not until the blade truly pressed toward his right side— Did his body pull one shoulder backward in a reaction honed through long combat experience. His foot had already begun moving. Wellspring Step immediately erupted in the same direction. Water supported Rowan's body.

He slid past the edge of the wind blade. The Battle Shade forced its sword to change direction. But it was already one instant too late. For the first time— Rowan passed beside it. He took several steps forward. The Battle Shade turned and pursued him. Its second strike stabbed toward Rowan's back. Rowan didn't plan a counterattack in advance. Only after he heard the wind approaching did his body instinctively rotate. His straight sword swept upward from below. Clang! The blade knocked the wind sword aside.

His left hand pressed down on the back of the enemy's blade. Frost rapidly spread. The currents across the wind blade slowed for a moment. Rowan didn't use the opening to disperse the Battle Shade. He continued forward. The Battle Shade quickly broke free of the frost. Then caught up again. One strike. Two. Three. Rowan no longer attempted to design an entire sequence of offense and defense beforehand. He dealt only with the attack already in front of him. Deflect one slash. Take one step forward.

Turn his body once. Take another step. Wellspring Step remained ready to activate at any instant. Frost-Chill Gauntlets remained active. Only after actual contact occurred did Rowan direct the accumulated cold into the point of impact. The Battle Shade could still read his intent. But Rowan delayed every concrete decision until the final instant. By the time the returning wind carried that decision back— The Battle Shade's own movement had already committed to a choice.

The middle section of the gallery quickly fell behind him. The Bell of the Returning Wind drew closer. Rowan's breathing began to grow heavier. Maintaining two spells consumed a considerable amount of both mana and Mental Power. The Battle Shade's attacks also continued to accelerate. Rowan saw its shoulder sink slightly. He instinctively prepared to dodge right. The moment that decision formed— The Battle Shade's blade, which had been moving left, abruptly changed direction.

The wind blade sliced across Rowan's forearm. Blood sprayed. Rowan immediately suppressed the rest of his plan. It wasn't enough merely to see the movement. He had to wait until it had truly committed to the action. The Battle Shade closed in again. Rowan stopped predicting where the next strike would come from. He watched only the blade, the shoulders, and the shifting center of gravity beneath its feet. The wind blade fell. His body dodged. Wellspring Step erupted. Straight swords collided.

Frost-Chill Gauntlets pressed in. One step. Then another. The stone bell was now directly ahead. The Battle Shade suddenly accelerated. Its edgeless straight sword stabbed toward Rowan's waist from behind and to the side. Rowan didn't turn. Not until the wind pressure truly closed in— Did he twist violently. His straight sword swept backward in a reverse grip. The back of the blade collided with the wind sword. The enormous force made Rowan stumble. The Battle Shade's center of gravity shifted as well.

Wellspring Step erupted at that instant. Using the collision, Rowan spun his body. He slipped through the gap between the Battle Shade and a stone pillar. His left hand reached forward. The frost-covered palm pressed against the surface of the tongueless stone bell. The wind throughout the gallery stopped for an instant. The next moment— Every current circulating through the grooves in the ground converged upon the stone bell. There was no clapper. Yet a long, resonant toll sounded from within the bell itself.

Hummm— The sound traveled backward along the entire gallery. The Battle Shade behind Rowan stopped. The wind-eye on its forehead slowly went dark. Its faceless body began dispersing from the edges. Gray-white currents rose along both sides of the gallery. Then merged once more into the returning wind. The voice of the arcane custodian sounded alongside the bell. [First Trial passed.] [Completion time: eleven minutes and forty-seven seconds.] [Evaluation: Superior.] The countdown ring around Rowan's Returning Wind Sigil stopped fading. The remaining pale-cyan light reorganized itself. A thin strand of wind extended from the sigil. It pointed toward the stone door behind the bell. Passed! Behind the Bell of the Returning Wind— The tightly shut stone door slowly opened inward. There was no second gallery beyond it. Rowan crossed the threshold. His field of view abruptly opened. Outside was an enormous circular stone gallery.

Along its outer side stood a towering curved wall that extended endlessly in both directions. Stone doors identical to the one behind Rowan were embedded throughout the wall. Because of the curve and the obstructing pillars, Rowan could see only a little more than a dozen nearby. Most remained tightly shut. Spiraling Returning Wind patterns continued flowing across their surfaces. On the inner side was a circular area that sank downward.

Several broad stone staircases could be seen extending toward the center in the distance. The exact view was hidden behind a thin veil of wind mist. The stone door behind Rowan slowly closed. The patterns across it went dark. There were no noisy voices nearby. Nor could he hear the battles occurring within the other galleries. There was only the low sound of wind moving through the circular stone gallery. A young man stood beside a stone railing not far away. He was tall and slender.

He wore a simple, pale-colored combat uniform. His clothes were perfectly neat. There were no visible injuries on his body. Even his breathing remained completely undisturbed. He had originally been looking at the surrounding closed stone doors. Only after hearing Rowan's door shut did he turn. His gaze first settled on Rowan's bleeding forearm. Then moved across the Three-Luminary Life-Warding Clasp still flickering beneath his clothes. Finally, it stopped on the stone door that had just closed.

Rowan looked back at him. This person had clearly emerged earlier than he had. And he was uninjured. Neither spoke immediately. A little farther away— The Returning Wind patterns on another stone door suddenly accelerated. The faint sound of a bell came from behind it. The stone door opened inward. A tall, broad candidate stepped out. A wind blade had cut diagonally across his right shoulder. Blood had already soaked half his sleeve. One hand pressed against his ribs. His breathing was clearly hurried.

He stumbled as he crossed the threshold. But quickly regained his footing. He glanced at Rowan and the other young man. Then looked away. After confirming the direction, the tall candidate headed straight toward the central area. His footsteps soon disappeared beyond the curve of the stone gallery. The surroundings became quiet again. The young man in the pale combat uniform withdrew his gaze.

"You were pretty fast." Rowan looked toward him.

"Still slower than you."

"For someone in your condition, coming out this quickly is already impressive." The young man answered calmly. He raised a hand and gestured toward the surrounding curved wall.

"How many nearby doors have gone dark?" Rowan followed his gesture. Among the dozen or so visible stone doors— Only three had extinguished Returning Wind patterns. One belonged to the young man in front of him. One belonged to Rowan. And one belonged to the injured candidate who had just left. All the remaining doors were silent.

"Severin." The young man gave his name.

"Rowan." Severin nodded lightly. He didn't ask how Rowan had passed. The wind strand extending from Rowan's left wrist had become clearer. It pointed toward the stone stairs leading into the central area. The voice of the arcane custodian sounded again. [Candidates who have passed the First Trial.] [Proceed to the central area of the Windward Court.]