Dive! Dallion thought as Falkner launched another line strike.
The firebird flew down just in the nick of time, avoiding the destructive slash that sliced three walls of the room. This was a practical example of why such attacks weren’t to be used indoors, however in the case of Falkner that worked to his advantage. As it turned out, the realm was also connected to Dallion, and while defeating him in such fashion would require utterly destroying the room, each slash was painful and came with the standard five percent health decrease.
“How come you know attacks I don’t?” Dallion shouted, shooting a bolt in his enemy’s direction. “Aren’t we supposed to have the same skills?”
“It’s not how it works,” Falkner replied calmly, then performed another line strike. That too was easily evaded, though further decreased Dallion’s health. Thankfully, Lux was there to compensate. “Your realm is based on your imagination. You’ve seen the attack used…”
“So, everyone in my realm will potentially be able to use it as well,” Dallion finished the sentence.
That didn’t sound good at all. Thank the Moons that March and her party had kept most of their really powerful attacks in reserve. For once, it was a good thing that Dallion didn’t have the perception needed to see most of the fight between March and the sword guardians. Fights would have been a lot more difficult otherwise.
Splitting into five instances, Dallion ordered Lux to thrust him forward along different approach paths. Falkner made an attempt to block each of the attacks with his own instances, but he was only able to create five, leaving him vulnerable.
FATAL STRIKE!
Dealt damage is increased by 500%
Dallion didn’t stop with that, summoning the Nox dagger with which he proceeded to do a series of strikes all over Falkner’s torso. Red rectangles stacked up, each dealing the expected amount of damage. However, as Dallion just realized, that proved to be useless.
According to Dallion’s calculations, Falkner should have received more than enough damage to have been defeated three times over. Instead, he kept on fighting. There was no indication of his health value or skills, nothing suggesting he was more than an echo. If so, the way to defeat him wasn’t through combat alone. Actually, it was starting to look like combat was never the answer.
Perfect, Dallion jumped back. Leave it to my mind to come up with a blocker level.
If there was a type of level that Dallion really hated it was that type. In most cases, these were pre-scripted events that triggered a cut-scene or an explanation of a new mechanic. There was a period back on Earth that several of the big games had resorted to for reasons unknown. The backlash had quickly made them reconsider, but the experience had remained in Dallion’s memories.
Nil, please tell me that there’s a way to defeat him, Dallion thought. He had no intention of suffering through the equivalent of a cut-scene.
Every battle is a question, dear boy, Nil replied. It presents a problem and lets you solve it. As I’ve told you before, the problem isn’t always apparent, but it is linked to an area in which you’re lacking.
Thanks for nothing. Dallion unsummoned the dagger, replacing it with the harpsisword instead.
If there had to be an answer to the puzzle, what could that answer be? It wasn’t a peaceful resolution, it wasn’t combat skill… What was it then?
Lux, keep me at a distance, Dallion thought, while trying to figure out the riddle. Looking around the room there didn’t seem to be any obvious clues. The walls were made of the common grey bricks that composed the rest of Dallion’s realm. Falkner’s clothes were the same that the boy usually wore, as were the weapons.
“How about you give me a hint?” Dallion asked as he used the armadil shield to deflect the bolt aimed at him.
“I’ve already given you plenty of things, even if I wasn’t supposed to.” Falkner rushed in Dallion’s direction. Upon reaching the wall the boy leapt on and continued running upwards. A series of free slashes were performed, all aimed at Lux’s wings. Two of them missed. The third somehow didn’t, even if Dallion was certain he had evaded the attack.
A damage rectangle emerged, indicating that the firebird was at ninety percent health.
“Who heals the healer?” Falkner asked, dropping back to the floor.
Charge! Dallion ordered in response.
The firebird obeyed. Using the bonus of his attack skills, Dallion performed a multi-strike attack, landing over a dozen hits all over Falkner. The echo didn’t even bother defending itself, letting the red rectangles stack up, as if knowing that it wasn’t in any danger. In the previous attempts, Dallion thought that it was his lack of skills that had brought about his failure. Now, he could see that it was the approach that was at fault.
Finishing the attack, Dallion quickly leapt out of Falkner’s reach. A line attack followed.
“At lease pretend it takes some effort,” Dallion shouted. “March couldn’t do as many as you are.”
“Maybe you’ll have a chance to find out one day,” the echo shouted back. “If you ever level up.”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
“Am I?” Falkner asked, stopping his attacks. Unsummoning his weapons, he looked straight at Dallion, his face a mixture of determination and sadness. “You know you weren’t supposed to pass the gate. It was only through the Moon’s help that you did. If it wasn’t for the boon, you’d still be stuck in the lower double digits, trying to figure out how to defeat me.”
Lower double digits? That was a hint—it suggested that Dallion was supposed to be able to pass the trial five levels earlier. Considering the number of skills, he was familiar at that level, they weren’t the answer either.
“Was reading double digits a gift as well?” Dallion asked, frantically trying to find a solution. Skills and stats weren’t the focus of this trial. It had to be his strength of will.
“You’d have gotten there, eventually. You have what it takes, but you don’t have what it takes to pass through me.”
“And I’m sure that if I had you wouldn’t lie about it.”
Falkner smiled, admitting to a degree that nothing could be taken at face value.
If victory is not achievable, then the solution is not victory, Dallioh said to himself. And if the solution isn’t victory, then the only way forward was… through failure?
That hardly made any sense either. If nothing else, Dallion should have succeeded after the first battle, if that was the case. It had to be something just as simple, something so obvious that he would kick himself in the ass for not seeing earlier. It was the same with all trials to some degree. The first paradox cube would have been completed a lot easier if he had simply used echoes, which he was reluctant to do at the time. The barriers were a result of Dallion not addressing the problem at hand, but trying to cheat his way around it… just as he was doing now. Strength and skill weren’t a necessity, they were a tool. Being strong made certain things possible—on occasion, things that would otherwise be unachievable—but they weren’t the solution. If, right now, Dallion had the option to start over from the day he awakened in this world, he would have done things quite differently. It’s possible that some of the outcomes would be different, it was even likely that he wouldn’t have even met some of the people and guardians he had come to think of as friends. It was naivete that had made him buy the harpsisword from a random stranger, who had later disappeared without a trace. It was Dallion’s involvement with the Star that had earned him the armadil shield, as well as Lux.
Back on Earth, Dallion’s father used to say that success was a refusal to make failure permanent. The man would often mention that the greatest harm someone could do was not allow others to fail. At the time, Dallion thought of that as a rubbish statement, not to mention hypocritical. His parents didn’t forget to slip in that they would be disappointed if he didn’t apply to a few good colleges—or failing that, colleges in general.
“If I’m supposed to experience failure, I’ve done so already,” Dallion said. “I failed my first guild trial and—"
“Next you’ll say you failed at failing.” Falkner sighed. “That’s why you’re not ready to go on. You’ve no idea what the trial is, so you’ll never correct your flaw.” Swords reemerged in his hands.
It has to be something related, Dallion kept on thinking. That was part of the awakening process—there always was advice, even when there wasn’t any. The goal of leveling was to allow a person to improve, and in order to improve…
“I can’t win,” Dallion whispered.
Two sword line attacks sliced through him, each dealing a fatal wound. Dallion looked at the rectangles that appeared, mocking him. One didn’t have to be a math genius to tell that losing a hundred and fifty percent of his health total was a bad thing. Normally this was the point at which Dallion would receive the shaming message, before being sent back to the starting room of his realm. To Dallion’s surprise, that didn’t happen.
“Weird, isn’t it?” Falkner asked.
“Huh?” Dallion looked down at his chest. There didn’t seem to be any pain, just as there didn’t seem to be any connection between the top and bottom half of Dallion’s torso.
“Sorry about this. It’s the way it has to be.”
Dallion just smiled. Despite the weirdness he had figured out the question of the trial. It was simple, so simple that it almost seemed laughable. The fact that he hadn’t been sent away only confirmed it.
“It’s fine. I know what to do now.”
“At least one of us does,” a bitter smile appeared on the echo’s face.
The response made Dallion arch a brow.
“It’s all in your mind, remember? You’re thinking that Falkner’s infatuation with Gloria will cause him a lot of pain and complications in life. And I think you’re right. This isn’t a battle I could win.”
“There’s nothing wrong in getting help,” Dallion reached out, placing his hand on the echo’s shoulder. “You helped me once. I owe you.”
Sadness appeared throughout Falkner’s body. The boy struggled to keep the tears in his eyes, but succeeded only half way.
“I hate when this happens. This is supposed to be your trial. I’m not even Falkner, just a fake echo that attempts to mimic him.”
“Maybe, but you’re here now,” Dallion replied. “You deserve some help as well.”
Falkner looked down.
“You don’t have to go,” Dallion went on. “You can remain here. Moons know I don’t have nearly enough people in my realm. Maybe you’ll be able to help Gen finally get something done.”
Hope sparked in Falkner’s chest, no larger than a grain of sand. Soon, though, a cloud of doubt emerged, smothering it.
“You haven’t completed the trial,” Falkner stepped back. “Take care of yourself first. If you don’t, you won’t be able to help others, not really. You’ll only end up hurting them more.”
As Dallion started to answer, the room around him vanished, replaced by the initial realm chamber. Nil was there, sitting on a wooden chair he had brought from the ring library, as was Gen. What wasn’t there, though, was the rectangle restricting Dallion from attempting to level up.
“How did it go?” Nil asked.
“Quite insightful.” Dallion looked down again. He was whole again, just as he expected to be. “Give me a moment, I’ll be right back.”
At a hurried pace he went into the corridor, stopping at the door of his latest challenge. Moment ago he had lost a battle in that room. It was tempting to just open it and try again, this time relying on his music skills, but Dallion knew better. Ignoring the door, he took a few steps aside. A new door emerged on the wall in front of him.
“Lux,” Dallion said. “Rest up. You got hurt pretty bad on this one.”
Throughout Dallion’s realm, the firebird chirped in response.
“Don’t worry, it’s all part of growing up,” Dallion smiled, then opened the door.
You’ve broken through your twentieth barrier.
Your level has increased to 21.
Enter and choose the focus that will serve you best.