"Ice Armor!"
"Frost Spear!"
In a swift defensive and offensive maneuver, Ronan summoned and hurled two spells towards the direction of the charging transparent humanoid figure.
As foundational first-level ice spells anchoring his "Despair Domain," Ronan had mastered them to proficiency, and even when cast alone, they exuded significant power and magic waves.
The frost-laden ice spear materialized almost instantly, whistling as it shot forward, leaving a clearly visible white trajectory.
"Boom!"
The proficient-level Frost Spear was intercepted mid-flight by the swiftly moving transparent figure, shattering into shards of ice.
Ronan's eyes narrowed slightly, realizing the transparent figure was stronger than anticipated.
Without hesitation, he turned and sprinted towards the white table and chair.
His immense physical power surged, muscles in his legs exploding with force. With a "boom," Ronan propelled himself forward like a bullet.
However, he hadn't gone far before colliding with something.
"Crack—"
The sensation of a folding mirror returned, the air before him distorting slightly. His vision blurred, and he found himself back near his original position.
No, further back than before, with the transparent humanoid now alarmingly close, poised to collide with him in the next second.
An urgent alarm sounded in Ronan's mind, a sharp premonition as if a blade pressed against his brow, forewarning the impending split of his skull.
The transparent figure moved so fast that Ronan could only barely discern the air's ripples. His previously summoned Ice Armor posed no hindrance, shattering completely.
Ronan instantly entered the [Immaculate Body] state, his mental space's [Permafrost] sigil flickering rapidly, deep blue auroras and boundless cold radiating from his body.
"Despair Freeze!"
"Boom!"
Under the instant eruption of frigid snow, a swiftly moving white blur appeared in the air, its speed momentarily hindered.
Bathed in dazzling white flames, Ronan's twin swords became entwined with dispelling flames. His star-blue eyes locked onto a precise location, muscles rippling like mercury beneath his robe. With a burst of immense physical power, he executed a cross slash!
"Clang!"
Ronan's sword strike felt like it hit something incredibly hard, the recoil numbing his hands.
His pupils contracted, watching in disbelief as his Demon Tungsten swords, enhanced by [Silverization], were swiftly sliced through at the midpoint, cleanly severed.
He swung at the figure, but it was his weapon that was cut instead?
Ronan found it baffling. How resilient and sharp must the opponent's body be to achieve this?
The broken Demon Swords reverted to liquid, retreating along his arms, instinctively prompting him to sidestep.
"Swish—"
A transparent distortion flashed by, slicing his robe's hem silently, turning it to dust on the lush grass.
Ronan gasped, deeply moved.
This was perhaps the most formidable and dangerous opponent he had faced, even at full strength, unable to contend head-on.
He dashed in a chosen direction, his despair domain activated, the cold flow leaving a chaotic trace.
Ronan squinted, noticing faint lights flickering like electricity in the air.
Again, the sensation of a blade at his back surged.
Ronan pressed his lips tightly, raising his arm in a throwing motion, releasing numerous thumb-sized silver metal beads from beneath his robe.
"High Energy Crucible! Detonate!"
In an instant, hundreds of metal beads exploded, energy echoes revealing countless pale blue rune arrays in the air before rapidly disappearing.
"Of course!"
Ronan's eyes lit up, barely savoring the solved "mystery" before springing towards a remembered nearby rune array.
"Swish—"
The returning transparent figure narrowly missed his back, leaving a clear slice in the air.
"Bang!"
Ronan landed, first confirming his location.
A vibrant apple tree stood beside him, golden sunlight streaming through its branches, casting dappled shadows on his face.
"Even further."
Ronan glanced at the white table and chair, his expression tense as he contemplated how to approach the target, deciphering the pattern among the spatial arrays.
The threat returned, the transparent figure charging at him.
"Enough."
Ronan grit his teeth, deciding to rely on luck.
He flung more metal beads, triggering High Energy Crucible to detonate, marking rune array traces before diving into one.
"Swish—"
Ronan reappeared near where the ponytailed witch's team found the mirror tool.
He now stood mere meters from the white table and chair.
Yet before he could rejoice, the ominous feeling returned.
"Why is it getting faster?"
Ronan's eyes flashed with alarm, the silver mist swords reappearing, dispelling flames rising.
He moved quickly, slashing forward with the swords.
He attempted to use [Power of Dispelling] to cut through the spatial arrays.
Several slashes yielded no effect.
Ronan assumed the path was clear until he stepped forward, only to be transported back to his garden entry point.
"Unaffected by spells or physical attacks, how are these arrays constructed?"
Ronan's mind raced; the garden's owner had a mastery of rune arrays far beyond his understanding.
It felt like a skilled magician watched him, amused, as he floundered in their "hat."
"Ronan!"
The ponytailed witch's urgent voice called to him, "Hurry, the secret realm's entrance shifts periodically.
Finding it takes effort, lucky or not..."
She glanced at the transparent figure, her expression bitter, the implication clear.
"You go! I'll try again."
Ronan clenched his teeth, resolute.
He entered this secret realm; treasures and legacies from the Mirror Court lay before him.
Leaving empty-handed wasn't an option.
Next time?
He might not have another chance.
Before she could persuade him, Ronan stepped forward.
If attacking was futile, he'd seek a pattern.
Following cold traces in the air, he released metal beads, memorizing revealed rune array positions post-explosion.
Triggering something, the transparent figure locked onto him, charging.
With [Void Realm] active, Ronan remained calm, ignoring the pursuit, navigating different arrays.
"Swish—"
"Swish—"
"Swish—"
He appeared, vanished, and reappeared throughout the garden, constantly changing positions.
"Boom!"
Throwing Despair Freeze spheres to fend off the relentless figure, Ronan dashed towards another array.
"Thunk"
"Hm?!"
Stumbling, he stopped, surprised at the spot he crossed.
He distinctly remembered a rune array there.
"Could it be—"
"Swish—"
A distortion brushed his nose, immersing him in void before emerging elsewhere.
Ronan reappeared, his expression grim.
He surveyed the silent, beautiful garden, muttering, "The arrays... they're moving."
Remembering array positions to eliminate errors was futile.
He suspected each array sent him to different locations.
His hard-won pattern was useless under these "rules."
Moreover,
The relentless transparent figure's speed increased.
His post-teleportation respite dwindled.
Reluctantly, Ronan faced a fact: eventually, he'd land into an immediate attack!
If luck failed, this would happen sooner.
"Back to a game of pure luck?"
Ronan flung metal beads, diving into an array, emerging by the fountain.
Facing the white table and chair, his eyes calmed.
"My luck's always been poor..."
"But it can't always be bad."
Throwing beads, locating arrays, teleporting, landing.
"Eventually..."
"I'll catch a break."
Teleporting, landing, teleporting again.
Each time, the transparent figure's pursuit quickened.
The witch urged him twice; the exit moved.
But,
Ronan sought his path within the garden.
His gaze was firm, eyes revealing a mysterious resolve.
Finally, after countless attempts, Ronan appeared somewhere new.
The wicker chair, white table.
The table held fine tea sets, a unique silver comb, a shimmering dagger, and a silver ball.
These items were within two meters.
Ronan's persistence paid off, relief and joy washing over him.
"I knew it."
It was a game of luck and probability.
Through random teleportations, he'd eventually reach the white table.
His luck wasn't abysmal.
The figure's pursuit was close, fast approaching.
Ronan stepped forward, tossing metal beads.
"Bang!"
A short explosion froze Ronan's smile—
Before him, within a meter, swirled dozens of blue rune arrays.
These arrays formed a dome, sealing the table, chair...
One more step from any angle would trigger one, transporting him elsewhere in the garden.
"Whoosh—"
"Ronan!!"
The subtle sound of air tearing, the sharp pain of an impending strike, the witch's worried cry echoed.
Ronan stood two meters from the table, indifferent to the impending chaos, expressionless.
Should he give up?
His efforts, luck, all a joke.
The garden's owner never intended anyone to reach the table.
The treasures were tantalizingly close, yet unreachable.
In that moment, Ronan saw the Goddess of Fortune approaching, only to turn away, laughing, just as he thought he'd embrace her.
"No!"
Fire ignited in Ronan's eyes, teeth gritted, expression fierce as he reached forward.
If fortune eluded him again,
Then he'd—
Tear her skirt!
Under [Immaculate Body], the fiery glow blazed, his aura expanding, Demon Tungsten forming a shield on his back.
The rest became fine silver threads, extending from his right index finger, threading through array gaps, quickly wrapping an object, retracting.
"Slice—"
The sound of a blade cutting flesh.
"Boom! Boom!"
A massive explosion followed.
Rune arrays flashed rapidly, energy waves washing over everything.
"Ronan..."
The witch stared dazedly at the explosion's epicenter, before energy obscured her view, seeing the transparent figure collide with Ronan's back.
She knew its power all too well.
Her team barely escaped last time, relying on three stored space spells in the mirror tool.
Facing such a space elemental creature head-on, Ronan—
"Go!"
As she faltered, a weak but urgent voice called.
She turned, seeing the pale youth appear nearby, running towards her.
"Whoosh—whoosh—"
Two figures broke the calm lake's surface.
Landing, the white-haired, blue-eyed youth knelt, gasping heavily, clearly injured.
"Ronan, are you okay?"
The witch rushed to support him, quickly administering potions from her pouch.
The potions took effect, and Ronan's complexion improved slightly.
"Thank you, Fuling."
He managed a smile, thanking the worried witch.
Ronan's back was severely injured, wounds from his metal spell explosion and the transparent figure's cut.
A deep, bone-revealing gash, the flesh turned outward, a ghastly sight.
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