At the end of the seventh day.

Rylan used Snowfall to leap over the Golem's claws, which cut the air below him, then looked at his enemy. The construct was shaped like a feline, only tens of times larger. The beast-like Golem was the color of bronze, with only its eyes shining a piercing blue. Just like most of the Golems he'd found since entering the depths of Golem Haven, this one also had wings, six of them.

Almost on cue, its wings moved. The nearest two stabbed toward him, each the size of a building. The next two sliced through the air from different directions. To top it all off, the Golem raised its other front claw, supporting its body with the two remaining wings.

In response, Rylan only let out a breath and kept channeling Snowfall. Alongside it, he used Drifting to speed to the side, taking large steps. The first two wings missed him by a hair, but he could tell he wouldn't be able to avoid the next two. He only raised his sword in front of his body, parallel to him.

Magic Shield.

His mana resonated with Silver Twilight, flowing through it like a river. Only, part of it was lost on the way or lost its focus, but it was good enough for the layer of blue mana to take shape around Rylan. It covered his entire body, but not his sword's blade. A moment later, he swung the weapon to meet the incoming attacks. With a sharp noise, metal met metal in a fierce clash. It took less than a second for Rylan to be pushed backward and flung away, only to crash with his back against the metallic floor.

The air left his lungs as his Shield shattered. He immediately evaluated his condition as quickly as possible.

Just a few bruises and cuts.

Blood flowed from his back, soaking his clothes, but it was nothing new. They were already blood-red as they were, smelling hellish. Rylan clicked his tongue.

I really need to become able to use both spells and Sword Arts at the same time.

Even though he could do it somewhat, it wasn't effective enough to be used in a real battle. He raised his gaze to look at the incoming claw swipe, narrowing his eyes.

Falling Snow Steps: Drifting.

He dashed to the side to avoid the attack. The claws dragged across the floor with a harrowing sound, but he didn't even blink. Rylan raised his left hand and pointed his index finger at the Golem, sharpening his focus to its current limits.

Frost Lance.

"Water Bullets."

His concentration allowed him to reduce the casting speed as much as he could, but it was still barely enough. Just after the Lance and the spheres of water took shape, he was forced to use Floating to jump upward, right over another attack. Rylan waved his index finger. The Water Bullets shot at the Golem's legs, followed by the Lance. The moment they hit their target, the Frost Lance enveloped them to create a layer of solid ice that began to spread.

Rylan breathed in and held his sword's hilt with both hands.

Sharpgale Sword Style, Third Movement: Fierce Wind.

He dashed forward even faster than his previous spells, stepping on the air with Snowfall. It took him less than a second to arrive in front of the Golem's shining blue right eye. Fierce Wind turned into Thunderbolt in a heartbeat. The construct's eye was pierced clean through, massive as it was. Once Rylan had sunk Silver Twilight into it up to the hilt, he immediately pulled it out and backed off.

The battle raged on. He used the Sharpgale Sword Style to boost his speed alongside the Falling Snow Steps, allowing himself to get in and out of range as needed. Sword Art after Sword Art came flowing out of his sword, supported by whatever spells he could cast. Naturally, even though the Falling Snow Steps were a very efficient technique, the same didn't exactly apply to all the others. His mana dropped at a noticeable rate by the second.

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Eventually, he found what he was looking for. An opening.

Flying through the air above the Golem, Rylan widened his eyes. The construct's back was wide open, to the point where it was impossible for it to protect it with the speed it had displayed so far. Without hesitation, most of what remained of his mana circulated throughout his body at its top speed. He twisted his body to crouch upside down, his feet facing the ceiling. With Snowfall, he leaped downward like an arrow.

Stormcaller Sword Style, Fourth Movement: Tempest Break.

The ethereal blade of mana coated Silver Twilight, raging fiercely with power that surpassed every other time it had been used in this life. At the same time, Rylan tried to move his mana according to the Sharpgale Sword Style as well, boosting his speed marginally.

The Sword Art met its target.

The Golem's back bent like it had been stepped on by a giant before the outer layer was sliced clean through. Through the opening, Rylan could see the core. He only pushed forward again. Silver Twilight reached the core and sliced it in half without difficulty, but that was not all. Rylan's mana tore its way through the Golem's insides like a raging storm, crippling whatever remained of its body.

The beast-like construct fell to the floor as Rylan jumped up to float above it.

Silence.

After a few seconds, Rylan let out a deep sigh and adjusted the mask covering his face.

That was hard.

He looked down to evaluate his condition. Cuts and bruises all over, some of which he'd acquired during this battle and others he hadn't had time to heal from, especially because he didn't have healing magic and could only rely on his body's natural regeneration, boosted as it was because of his mana circulation. His muscles ached, his limbs were shaking, and he even felt like throwing up.

It's been a while since I last felt like this.

Rylan smiled. Had the last time been when he was trying to change his Trait with Gerard? This kind of exhaustion was familiar due to the memories of his past life, but it wasn't something his current self was exactly used to.

I guess I've been fighting a lot.

He hadn't slept at all. During the past seven days, he had only run from one battle into another, as quickly and efficiently as possible, proceeding ever deeper into the Dungeon. Now, each Golem was much more dangerous than the previous ones, almost as if they had been divided into tiers and zones according to their power. Ironically, the higher the number of wings a Golem had, the stronger it seemed to be. Naturally, this meant that Rylan had gone out of his way to target the Golems with many wings.

The battles, which had started out as rather simple and easy, quickly turned into gruesome struggles where he was forced to use both his spells and swordsmanship, as well as try and improve himself at both to survive.

"It makes sense for this Dungeon to be considered at the Fifth Circle level," he muttered under his breath, thinking back to Damian's advice and smiling.

No, even a team of capable, skilled Fifth Circle Mages would struggle against the Golems he was facing. But wasn't that the whole reason why he was here? This was a place where he could push himself to his limits without risking being seen.

And I have Dreams of Transcendence.

The Skill that boosted the effectiveness of all training also applied to the current situation. It had only been seven days, but he was already considerably stronger than before he entered. However, this brought Rylan no happiness. His enemies were simply far too great for him to revel in his achievements. His smile disappeared from his expression as he sighed.

So be it. Let's heal up a bit and keep going.

Instead of sitting down, he remained standing, keeping his senses sharp and expecting an ambush at any point. Thankfully, nothing happened even as the minutes ticked by. Meanwhile, Rylan kept circulating his mana and trying to let his mana pool regenerate alongside his body itself. His wounds' regeneration, stimulated by the mana circulation, was much faster than usual.

Rylan rubbed his chin with his free hand. It was covered in cuts, some of which were still bleeding until moments ago.

"I wonder when my Mana Cultivation Skill is going to advance."

Then, he shrugged. Worrying about it wouldn't take him anywhere; it was a novel Skill that he'd only acquired in this life, which meant he couldn't easily predict its development. All he could do was base himself on all the similar Skills Roland had acquired, and this knowledge was telling him that the answer was 'soon.'

Rylan cracked his neck and looked at the corridors on the far end of the room. There were twelve different paths, but it didn't matter – he would go down the one with the greatest mana signature, as usual. As he waited and recovered, a thought struck him.

…How much time do I even have left?

How much time did he have before the Empire made a move? And once they did, what would they do? It was unlikely for his family to be attacked, since they were within the domains of a Sixth Circle Mage's Mage Tower, but could something like that really stop a nation that had Ninth Circle Mages in its ranks? How powerful were the soldiers that the Empire could easily deploy? Could they overcome Damian's defensive spells and even the man himself? The questions were endless, but Rylan didn't have the answer for any of them.

He could only hope he would have enough time to grow. Gritting his teeth, he started walking to the corridor he'd chosen.

The struggle continued.

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