The Laughing Swordsman

Like an unending fountain, massive vines poured out of Otis' chest.

They immediately wrapped around the two hounds next to him, giving them quite the miserable appearance.

If the skeletal hounds could whimper, they would surely be doing so right now.

The vines completely restricted the movement of the hounds, except for the occasional twitch.

Otis' breathing was ragged.

His eyes were unfocused.

Yet, he was standing tall.

His shattered arm hung limply by his side. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped.

Otis looked up towards the two hounds restricted by his vines.

"Die."

Suddenly, the vines constricted, shattering the bones of the hounds. Uncanny cracking sounds resounded throughout the trial room.

Otis let out a lethargic sigh.

He came to a realization.

Power...

Power reigned over everything.

With enough power, you didn't have to worry about weaknesses. If everything could snap under the pressure of your touch, nothing would stand before you.

Otis' vines released, letting countless tiny bone fragments clatter against the ground.

The two-tailed hound was still on the floor, snapping its jaw towards Otis. This prompted Otis to viciously smash a vine down on its skull, shattering it into little pieces.

He did not even spare a glance towards its remains.

Otis walked to the third step. The vines from his chest continued to squirm around, filled with life. Perhaps most people would believe Otis was a monster, especially considering the vines had more volume than his actual body.

Although there were no more enemies for Otis to face, the pressure was making him delirious. A break would only make him more tired. Otis realized this fact, thus he steadily marched forward.

He reached the edge of the third step. Like the others, it was a meter high.

Otis put one hand on the ledge of the third step.

His mind whirled like a blender, doing its best to withstand the stress.

Otis took a moment to brace himself, not wanting to blank out like the other times.

With a deep breath, his hand clenched, pushing him onto the third step.

He was prepared to receive a shock...

...Yet lost consciousness anyways.

Otis saw a vision of his father once again.

He and his father were sitting across from each other with a small table between them.

The expression on his father's face was solemn.

"Son, if you are able to make it to the third step, you can turn back. Although you will not inherit the legacy, you will obtain the magical affinity of a Stage One True Mage. From there, you will step into the bounds of real magicians."

Otis' furrowed his brows.

"What stage am I at right now, dad?"

His father sighed.

"You have hardly stepped into the foundational realm, not to mention the True Mage stages."

Otis put his tiny hands on his head.

"What does that mean?"

Otis' father cleared his throat.

"When a mage starts wielding mana for the first time, they generally are only able to cast foundational spells. These spells are just small manifestations of the element."

Otis nodded enthusiastically. A tiny ball of fire appeared above his hand.

His father laughed.

"Yes, just like that. Mages like you are called Foundation Mages because you can cast foundational spells. This pattern continues to elementary, intermediate, and advanced."

Otis gasped in awe.

"That's so many!"

His father nodded.

"Yet, that is only the beginning. Now, that doesn't mean that advanced mages are weak by any means. They can take on entire armies by themselves as long as they have space to retreat."

He coughed.

"Their bodies may be weak, but their offensive power will always be frightening."

Otis' eyes were filled with curiosity.

"So what is a true mage?"

His father sighed with melancholy.

"They are people who break the bounds of normal spellcasting. Spells at higher levels can no longer be casted rigorously. Those that depended on following diagrams will be devastated by the new spellcasting process."

He closed his eyes.

"There are simply too many nuances within higher level spells. The number of annotations you would need to provide becomes unrealistic to write. Even if you did, it would nearly be impossible to understand purely by the annotations."

His father's eyes parted ever so slightly.

"The only way to truly understand them is to understand the inner workings of both the spell and element itself. This is how you step into the realm of the True Mage."

Otis' eyes lit up.

"So the True Mage affinity will make me a true mage?"

His father laughed.

"Not exactly, but it will make your journey in becoming one unbelievably easier. Even after you cross into the realm of the True Mage, it will continue to make your journey easier."

Otis balled his tiny hands into fists.

"Ok!"

His father sighed.

"Anyways, we have deviated from the main topic at hand. The reason I say this is because if you choose to conquer the third step, you will not be able to back out."

His father looked him dead in the eye.

"There is no shame in running away here. After all, it is simply too frightening."

Suddenly, Otis regained consciousness. He was gasping for air while beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.

The pressure increased by nearly ten times.

His father had mentioned the pressure would increase but did not mention by how much. After all, his father never made it past the second layer.

Cracks appeared across the third step. Along with that, a secondary wall emerged from the left and right.

They made loud scraping sounds against the stone ground. In a minute or so, they would enclose Otis off.

That meant he would be unable to leave if he waited for too long.

Otis looked at the walls. They stretched all the way to the ceiling, while they were over three meters thick.

There were dried bloodstains splattered across the bottom of the wall. Especially the outermost edge.

...It was almost like in the past, multiple people tried to run.

But were crushed by the walls.