CHAPTER 58: RANK 1 TRIAL II

The slime’s eyes flared, unleashing [Light Bullets]—five golden streaks that punched clean through five skulls in rapid succession. The corrupted bodies shuddered once, then collapsed for good, their twisted forms dissolving into ash.

"I see... so light magic really is effective here," Rhys muttered, nodding at the sight. That meant one thing—he had just found the perfect counter to these things.

He shifted his grip on the Corrupted Treant Lord’s Sword, his mind running through the list of skills he’d picked up from the Mage Guild. One in particular came to mind—Magic Enchant. For a Magic Swordsman like him, this would be devastating here.

Rhys activated [Magic Sense] first. The world sharpened—mana currents swirled like luminous rivers before his eyes, revealing the crimson threads of demonic corruption running through the mutated townsfolk. He could see exactly where the taint flowed within their twisted bodies.

"Perfect..." he murmured.

He willed his mana into the blade. With a flash, Magic Enchant surged to life, wrapping the corrupted steel in a halo of burning golden light—enchanted by Ancient Light Magic.

The once pitch-black sword now gleamed with a stark contrast—its jagged, corrupted veins pulsing faintly beneath an overwhelming golden brilliance.

Rhys dashed forward. The first corrupted human—a snarling, half-skinned butcher—barely raised its cleaver before his blade carved through its neck in a clean, decisive arc.

The second didn’t even have time to scream before the sword’s light-empowered edge sliced straight through its ribcage, leaving a molten line where the wound had been.

Every strike now cut deeper, cleaner—burning away the corruption as it severed flesh and bone. The demonic filth hissed and vaporized where the light touched, leaving nothing but clean ash in his wake.

One by one, the front line fell—each death punctuated by the flare of golden light.

A system alert chimed in his ear.

[Skill Proficiency Increased: Magic Sense Lv.2 → Lv.3]

[Skill Proficiency Increased: Magic Enchant Lv.1 → Lv.3]

Rhys grinned. "Good... now let’s clear the rest of you out."

The corrupted horde surged forward, clawing and howling, but Rhys didn’t give them a chance to form ranks.

His foot slammed into the cracked stone, [Ghost Edge Step] propelling him forward in a blur of afterimages. The first three were already headless before the rest even realized he’d moved—golden arcs flashing through the fog like lightning strokes.

Puddle floated above his shoulder, its form pulsing with mana.

[Light Bullets] screamed past Rhys, popping skulls like overripe fruit. Every glowing impact was punctuated by a sharp snap of bursting bone.

A cluster of five twisted townsfolk lunged from the right, eyes glowing blood-red.

Rhys didn’t break stride—he flicked his blade outward, activating [Whirlwind Slash] mid-run. The golden wave tore through them in an unbroken line, cutting bodies clean in half.

Two corrupted archers tried to aim through the chaos. Puddle responded instantly—[Shadow Tendrils] erupted from the ground, coiling around their legs and yanking them off balance. Rhys finished the job with two quick thrusts, never slowing.

A demonic brute, twice the size of a man, crashed through the burning wreckage of a nearby stall, swinging a spiked iron maul.

Rhys stepped into the attack instead of dodging—[Arc Surge Slash] erupted from his sword in a blinding blue-white flash, bisecting the creature from shoulder to hip. Its pieces hit the ground still twitching, the corruption inside already sizzling away.

Above them, warped gargoyle-like mutants crawled along the broken city walls, preparing to pounce.

Puddle’s body shimmered.

[Gleaming Halo] burst into existence around it—a radiant ring that spun slowly, every pulse sending spears of light upward. The flying monsters screeched in agony as their wings caught fire midair, tumbling into the streets below where Rhys dispatched them with casual, precise cuts.

Every motion was fluid, each strike clean. The horde thinned so quickly it was hard to tell if there had ever been one at all. The city square became a killing ground—strewn with piles of dissolving ash instead of corpses.

The final cluster of corrupted humans roared in desperation, charging together.

Rhys inhaled, letting mana surge into his limbs. [Steamburst Edge] roared to life—steam and heat bursting around his blade as he swung in a wide arc. The attack vaporized the front row instantly, the remaining few stumbling back in shock.

They didn’t get far.

Puddle fired one last [Aqua Lance]—a razor-thin spear of water that punched through three skulls in one shot.

Silence fell. Only the soft hiss of fading steam and the drip of corrupted ichor hitting stone remained.

Rhys rolled his shoulders, exhaling slowly. "That’s one sector cleared..."

A system alert pulsed in his vision.

[Trial Progress: 12%]

Rhys smirked. "Looks like we’re just getting started."

But instead of rushing recklessly into the next sector, he waited. He wasn’t about to burn through his resources without a plan. He remained still for a few minutes, letting his skills come off cooldown and his mana essence fill back to maximum.

Only once everything was back to 100% did he start moving again.

The trial map for Moonmist Heart City was segmented like the real city—outer districts for commoners, inner districts for nobles, and the core sector for the lord’s seat of power. He had already cleared most of the outer areas, but now... now he stood before a new threat at the gate to the inner district.

And this one was big.

A hulking, crimson-skinned demon loomed in the street, standing over a pile of broken furniture and half-crushed corpses. It had a massive, bulbous head and four muscular arms, each gripping a gigantic cleaver still dripping with blood. The ground trembled slightly as it shifted its weight, turning toward him with a bone-rattling growl.

"Oh boy..." Rhys muttered, lips curling into a dangerous smile. "Looks like a mini-boss."

He tightened his grip on the Corrupted Treant Lord’s Sword, but then—without hesitation—summoned his dual-casting stance. Mana surged down his arms, and in each hand a weapon of pure magic began to form.

In his left hand, a spear of brilliant Light flared into being—its tip glowing hot with holy radiance.

In his right, a long Halo Spear took shape, its shaft humming with condensed light magic.

"Alright... let’s dance."