"Fuck... it hurts like hell."
Revan clutched his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
It felt as if thousands of glass shards were flowing through his veins.
Power always comes with a price, and right now, his body was paying the bill in full.
It was natural for his body to scream. Aura Manifestation was no cheap trick. In the world of Warriors, this technique was classified as the "Final Phase"—the highest peak a physical fighter could reach.
It was not something a first-year student should be able to master.
If his memory served him right, in the entire Class A, only two people were capable of reaching this stage. That bastard Erison... and himself.
Perhaps for the monsters in Class S, using Aura was as simple as breathing. But for his immature body, forcing a technique of this caliber was akin to self-torture.
With his remaining strength, Revan immediately raised his left hand into the air.
Whoosh.
Instantly, a pitch-black shadow writhed in his palm, as if a dimensional hole had opened. From within that darkness, a small crystal bottle emerged and fell right into his grasp.
[Elixir of Vitality - Type S]
You might think this is a magical liquid that can heal Revan completely in seconds?
Absolutely not.
Who knows what was going through the minds of those damn developers, but in Legends of Valtheris, the concept of "Instant Heal" did not exist.
This liquid did not permanently heal his wounds; instead, it granted an Active Status Effect.
For 3 minutes, this fluid would trigger forced regeneration in his body. Revan's body would continuously repair itself every second, no matter how badly he destroyed it during battle.
Of course, something like this came with a price.
When the duration expired, the regeneration would stop completely. All the delayed damage would accumulate at once, and Revan's condition could end up far worse than before.
Sound bad? Don't get it wrong.
In a world with standards this low, an item that could stave off death for just 3 minutes was already considered a Legendary Treasure.
Can you imagine how useless the lower-tier Elixirs were? If Type-S only lasted 3 minutes, imagine the fate of Type-A or B. Maybe the duration was only ten seconds? Or perhaps it killed the user instantly?
That was why the small bottle in Revan's hand was priceless.
'Even the entire wealth of Sylvia's family wouldn't be enough to obtain this item,' Revan thought, popping the cork with his thumb.
Without knowledge of the hidden location known only to "madmen" who had completed this game perfectly, no amount of money could buy it.
'Thank you to my past stupidity for being willing to hold back the urge to vomit just to complete every rotten route in this game.'
Without hesitation, Revan downed the contents in one gulp.
"Haa..."
Revan exhaled a long breath. Along with it, thin hot steam puffed from between his lips.
A soft, cold sensation immediately flowed through his entire body. The tightness crushing his chest vanished instantly, as if all the pain had been rinsed away by calm water.
"Now, time to test my luck," he muttered softly, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.
In the blink of an eye, Revan had vanished, leaving the pile of corpses as silent witnesses.
[Time Remaining: 03:59]
***
Revan slid very fast.
He passed four cargo carriages in the blink of an eye. If there were people in those carriages, they might not have been able to see Revan with their eyes. Revan was just a flash of black shadow passing by, carrying the wind of death.
Right at the end of the fourth carriage, Revan's steps stopped.
In front of him, stood a different door.
The door was not made of iron with a standard model like the other carriages. It was a thick red Mahogany wooden door, decorated with gold carvings that looked luxurious.
Even from a distance, Revan could feel the heavy energy leaking from it. Up close, it was suffocating.
Without wasting a single second, Revan reached out. He started pushing the door carefully.
However, before the door could open completely, a raspy voice welcomed him first from behind that door.
" Young man..."
"If I were you... I would close that door again, and never return."
Revan fell silent for a moment. Then, his lips curved into a thin smile.
Instead of retreating, he pushed the door until it opened wide.
Creeeeak.
Instantly, warm golden yellow light burst out from the door gap.
The scent of herbal tea and expensive tobacco was immediately smelled, replacing the metallic smell of blood clinging to his body.
With fluid movements full of etiquette, Revan bowed his body slightly, performing a respectful bowing like a waiter greeting a grand guest.
"Thank you for your compassion, Sir," Revan said in a soft tone.
"But unfortunately... I do not have the luxury to accept that offer."
Revan tightened his grip on the sword hilt.
"If I 'retreat' now, as you suggested... then that is when I truly will never be able to return. Not to this place, and not to any world."
In the middle of the luxurious room with velvet sofas and thick carpets, an old figure with white hair and black robes sitting there chuckled softly.
"Hoo..."
The old man placed his teacup slowly on the table. His sharp eyes stared at Revan from under the lamplight, as if stripping the boy's soul.
He immediately understood the meaning of Revan's words. That the boy in front of him was standing between two abysses of death: Die at the hands of the enemy in front, or die at the hands of his "Master" if he dared to retreat.
"So that's how it is," replied the old voice, his tone sounding slightly amused.
"Advance and you are destroyed, retreat and you are annihilated. You aren't choosing a way of life... you are merely choosing a way to die."
The old figure slowly stood up from his luxurious chair, his shadow stretching on the clean carpet floor.
"In that case, come in. Let me see just how great your resolve is."
However, before Revan could open his mouth, a heavy and rough voice cut through the conversation.
"Oi, Old Man!"
The voice came from the farthest end of the carriage—right on the opposite side from where Revan stood.
There, sitting casually in the seat at the very end, a muscular man was chewing an apple.
His appearance was a stark contrast to the luxury of this VIP carriage. He wore a tight military green shirt—printing clearly his terrifying bicep muscles—and practical black long pants.
If Revan saw him on Earth, he would definitely mistake this person for a mercenary or marine who was on "leave" in the middle of the battlefield.
"An old geezer like you isn't fit to speak so poetically," he sneered while pointing at the grandfather's face with the apple remains in his hand.
The man spat a little to the side, then looked at the grandfather with a belittling gaze.
"A Mage like you better just sit quietly in the corner. Don't interfere in the business of warriors."
He then shifted his gaze to Revan. His eyes swept over the boy's appearance from head to toe—seeing the shirt wet with blood, the panting breath, and the sturdy hand grip on the sword hilt.
A wide grin appeared on the soldier's face.
"Can't you see the condition of that kid, huh?"
He pointed at Revan with his chin.
"That blood... that sword... He didn't come here to play magic tricks like you."
The muscular man threw the apple remains in a random direction, then cracked his neck until it made a clicking sound.
"Let us, fellow Warriors, fight with open chests! This is a stage for physical combat, it has nothing to do with the soft spells of a Magician like you!"
Hearing that rude challenge, Revan responded with respect.
He lowered the tip of his sword slightly—not as a sign of giving up, but as a gesture of respect to a fellow soldier.
With a thin smile that looked sincere, Revan bowed his body slightly towards the muscular man at the end of the carriage.
"It is an honor for me, Sir,"
"In an era where many cowards hide behind shield spells and dirty tricks... meeting someone who upholds the purity of physical combat is a rare fortune."
Revan straightened his body again, his eyes staring sharply full of anticipation.
"I accept your generous offer. Let us settle this in a manly way, without magic interference."
Hearing that agreement, the old wizard in the luxury chair only chuckled softly.
There was absolutely no look of offense on his wrinkled face, even though he had just been insulted by his own friend and ignored by his enemy. He actually looked amused, as if watching his grandson fighting over a toy.
"Hah... kids these days," muttered the grandfather while shaking his head slowly.
He reached for his steaming teacup again with a relaxed demeanor.
"Alright, alright. If our young guest also desires the same thing, who am I to dare forbid?"
The grandfather waved his hand slowly, signaling that they were free to do whatever.
"Please. Just consider this old man as a wall decoration. Enjoy your barbaric dance as you please."
"Thank you for your understanding, Sir," said Revan while bowing slightly to the old grandfather, closing the small talk session elegantly.
However, as soon as Revan straightened his back...
BOOOOM!
An explosion of air pressure hit the room. Not an explosion of fire or magic, but pure Aura pressure so dense that it made the glass windows of the VIP carriage vibrate violently until they cracked into a thousand pieces.
The muscular man at the end of the room was no longer sitting casually.
He stood up straight, and his body was now covered by a Golden Yellow Aura.
The expensive carpet floor under his feet sank instantly, unable to withstand the weight of the energy he released.
The muscles behind his green shirt tightened, as if the shirt would tear at any time.
Strangely, there wasn't a single sword scabbard at his waist. He slowly raised his two empty hands into the air, as if wanting to grip something invisible.
The Golden Yellow Aura covering his body was suddenly sucked in, condensing between his two open palms.
A loud crackling sound was heard, like air being forced to solidify into a solid object. The yellow light no longer glowed softly, but hardened into a physical form.
In a matter of seconds, a sword was formed in his grasp.
"Listen well, Kid. Just so you don't die wondering who killed you."
"My name is Vargos."
He stomped his foot one step forward.
The carriage floor screamed in horror under his feet.
"And don't compare me to the lowly assassins you just killed earlier."
Revan stared at the dazzling light show with a flat expression. But deep inside his heart, a scream echoed.
'Hey, you muscle-brained bastard...'
Revan's eyebrow twitched slightly, annoyed by the sheer hypocrisy in front of him.
'Didn't you just say you wanted to fight fair and square without magic tricks?!'