Charlotte performed two backflips to evade the danger, but as she prepared for a third, an icy barrier unexpectedly blocked her path from behind.
Glancing over her shoulder, a towering ice wall had manifested.
Looking down, her feet were being encased in ice.
With a swift twist of her sword's hilt, Charlotte drove the blade into the icy layer. "Ignite," she whispered.
A flame sparked at the tip of the blade, radiating outwards in a circular pattern beneath the ice, causing it to melt instantly.
A white mist rapidly enveloped the entire arena.
As Charlotte lifted her head, a fist emerged from the mist, stopping just a centimeter away from her nose.
"I've won!"
The mist receded, revealing Bairon's figure, a triumphant smile gracing his face.
In that very moment, an indescribable sensation, akin to the ascension of his soul, flooded Bairon's mind.
It was clear to him - he had officially joined the ranks of the Intermediate Magus.
"Congratulations, Mr. Stewart." Charlotte stepped back, lifting her empty right hand in a gesture of surrender.
But something felt amiss.
Bairon looked down only to discover that, at some unknown moment, Charlotte's spell sword had pierced his abdomen, its hilt the only part visible outside.
As a wave of weakness and impending unconsciousness engulfed him, a voice echoed in his ear just before his eyes shut:
"Round seven thousand, six hundred and eighty... concluded."
...
In a haze, Bairon opened his eyes to find himself lying on the steps outside the Dark Tower.
Beside him was a statue of a lady, chin rested on her hand, gazing upwards at the heavens.
"Congratulations to the newly-minted Intermediate Magus," intoned the ethereal voice from the skies.
Rubbing his sore shoulders, Bairon cast a glance at the closed wooden door behind him, momentarily uncertain if he'd ever entered.
"Is it over?" Bairon inquired.
Trading a single level-3 mana core for a promotion to Intermediate Magus status and gaining invaluable combat experience from dueling a mysterious magus seemed like a worthwhile bargain.
But Bairon was destitute; he had only that one mana core, so he had to be frugal.
Old John remarked, "The Dark Tower has always been generous. In theory, you could continue playing within until the Dark Tower crumbles. But I believe you wouldn't fancy that, would you?"
Naturally, Bairon wasn't fond of that notion.
He surmised that even if the end of the world approached, the imposing Dark Tower behind him would remain unscathed.
"Why wake me at this particular moment?" Bairon further probed.
Charlotte chimed in, "Ranks are but illusions."
Old John elucidated, "What the lady means is that your rate of advancement has been too swift. You need to slow down, much like a tree, where the roots should always be twice as extensive as the branches. Otherwise, it faces withering."
Bairon pondered for a moment, then asked, "So, how might I extend my roots?"
"Nurture and strengthen your Mindergy," Old John replied. "Storing Mindergy in external gear like magus rings or staves is something only fledgling magi resort to. If you wish to tread farther on the magus path, learn to let your mind retain more Mindergy."
Seeing Bairon's confusion, Old John continued, "If you still don't grasp it, bring in a superior mana core next time, and we'll assist you."
"I certainly will," Bairon responded.
The wisdom Old John imparted was all new and invaluable to him.
Yet, given his financial constraints and uncertainty over when he might obtain a better mana core than a level-3, he simply responded with courtesy.
"How many days have I spent here?" Bairon inquired.
"Two and a half days," replied Old John.
Realizing he had just half a day left to fulfill his tri-day rendezvous with Evelyn, Bairon hastily stood up. "I need to leave now. I'll visit you all when the chance arises next."
"Oh, one more thing," Bairon suddenly recalled, "How can I assist you all?"
In a calm tone, Old John responded, "Considering your age, such thoughts are quite precocious."
Bairon shrugged and vanished from the realm of the Dark Tower.
When tranquility returned to the Dark Tower's world, Charlotte's voice broke the silence. "How many times did the bell toll?"
"Five," Old John answered.
"Not too bad."
"Heh heh heh heh..."
...
Rewinding the timeline:
As Bairon's punch in the illusionary realm halted just a centimeter from Charlotte, marking his ascent to the Intermediate Magus rank, outside the world of the Dark Tower, within Sailport:
"Thud..."
A bell toll echoed throughout the entire city, sudden and arresting.
Then came a second, followed by a third... until the fifth.
On the fourth floor of the magus tower—
Rueel's residence level.
In his study, penning something, Rueel's head snapped up at the sound of the bells, fixing his gaze upon the ceiling overhead.
Holding his breath, he began counting in sync with the tolls:
"1, 2, 3... 5!"
"5 times, 5 times!"
Rueel's entire body trembled with excitement.
"Lord Chief Steward, Lord Chief Steward!" An out-of-breath magus dashed onto the fourth floor, exclaiming, "Lord Lawrence has broken through; he's now an Intermediate Magus!"
"Ha-ha, ha-ha, Lawrence, Lawrence, my dear son!"
Rueel laughed heartily.
...
At the northwest corner of Sailport, in the Church of Light cathedral,
Father Matthew Hampton, upon hearing the bells, quickly stepped out, eyes fixed on the direction of the magus tower, counting softly.
Once the bells ceased, he turned to the stumbling acolyte who'd followed him out, querying, "Joshua, how many times did the bell toll?"
"Five times, Father," replied the 8-year-old, his face reflecting confusion.
Why would the priest ask such an obvious question? Had something gone wrong with his mind?
...
A bit northeast of Sailport's center, within the confines of a lavish manor,
"Margaret, have Anna dressed quickly. I must take her to the magus tower posthaste. If we're late, some other pretty young girl might snatch away Lord Lawrence!" the portly William Jona burst into the tea room, shouting.
"Damn it, Mr. Joha, you're the chairman of Sailport's Citizens Council, the owner of six shipyards. Would you truly want your precious daughter marrying a bastard?" A lavishly dressed Lady Margaret retorted shrilly.
Infuriated, William snapped, "Foolish woman! Did you not hear the bells? The only individual in the magus tower now capable of triggering such bells is Lawrence alone!"
"Bells? Of course, I heard them. What do they signify?" Margaret asked, puzzled.
"That's no ordinary bell. It's the Bloodline Clock atop the magus tower. Whenever a magus ascends to the Intermediate rank, the Bloodline Clock resonates with the magus's potential—the pinnacle they could reach in the future."
"Do you comprehend what five tolls signify? They indicate that the magus possesses the talent to reach the Master Magus rank, colloquially known as the Red Bloodline!"
"Do you realize what being a Master means? Sailport has never had a Master Magus. Even in the entire Trent Province, there are but five such grand magi!"
William spoke breathlessly, in one long rush.
"Enough!" Margaret cut off her husband, turning her head and calling, "Anna, my dear daughter, come out at once!"
...
Time rewinds to the present.
After leaving the realm of the Dark Tower, Bairon found himself back in his own bedroom.
Cocking his ear, he could hear Evelyn moving about upstairs.
Bairon promptly made his way to the second floor.
Evelyn, playing alone on the upper level, heard some noises.
Pushing the door open and seeing Bairon at the top of the stairs, she immediately ran and jumped into his arms.
"I'm sorry, I stayed out a bit longer this time," Bairon said, gently ruffling Evelyn's hair with a note of apology.
Evelyn shook her head within his embrace.
"I promised to get you a new storybook," Bairon recalled, taking his sister's hand.
Hesitating, Evelyn replied, "Big brother, how about we go out tonight instead?"
"Why?" Bairon asked, puzzled.
Evelyn bit her lip, pausing for a few seconds before finally saying, "I overheard people outside mentioning that Lawrence has advanced to Intermediate Magus. And he triggered five tolls from the Bloodline Clock. They said something about a Red Bloodline."
Patting Evelyn, Bairon confidently smiled, "Don't worry, I can handle him."
In the past, Bairon might have felt apprehensive about the Red Bloodline.
But after two and a half days and an intensive 7,680 rounds of combat training, he felt confident.
Even if he had to face an Advanced Magus head-on, he believed he could put up a good fight.
To Bairon, a Red Bloodline without any real combat experience seemed as insignificant as an ant.
"I trust you, big brother!" Evelyn said with a smile.
"Let's go then. I'll get you that storybook and treat you to something delicious," Bairon declared, leading Evelyn out of their home.