The Invincible Young Master

The sudden openness startled many. After the suffocating trials within the previous chambers, the crushing ceilings, the lurking horrors, the suffocating crimson mists, the soldiers instinctively drew deep breaths of the fresh air.

The tension that had knotted their shoulders and stiffened their limbs eased slowly, each exhale carrying away a measure of fear and fatigue.

For the first time since entering the tower, there were no towering beasts, no lethal traps, only the open land beneath the sky stretching out in every direction.

The masked guard quietly returned to Ling Yan's side, like a calm shadow at her shoulder. He did not speak, but his presence was steady, grounding.

Ling Yan gave a small nod of approval.

"Well done," she said softly, her voice carrying just enough to reach him. Then, her gaze swept across her troops.

She noticed the exhaustion visible in drooping shoulders, but no casualties; none of her soldiers had fallen.

Reynold's forces fared the same, appearing nearly untouched. Ling Yan's eyes narrowed slightly as she considered the fate of the earlier parties.

The ceiling creature, she realized, must have ambushed them mercilessly. The memory of the collapsing stones, the limbs striking without mercy, made her chest tighten.

Had she entered alone, without the forewarning of the academy group, her soldiers might have suffered the same brutal fate.

She allowed herself a brief moment of gratitude for the company that had ensured their survival.

Around her, murmurs rippled through the soldiers, voices low and tinged with awe and disbelief.

"Where… is this place?" one whispered, eyes wide as he took in the endless horizon.

"Is this still part of the ruins?" another asked, reaching instinctively toward the grass as if testing the reality of it.

"It looks… too real," came a third voice, thick with wonder.

"Even the sun feels warm," another muttered, tilting his face upward, eyes squinting against the gentle light.

Hands reached out to touch the soft blades of grass, to sniff the earth, to feel the truth of the moment for themselves.

The scent of greenery filled the air, sharp and alive, pulling at their lungs with a vivid freshness that made each breath ache with clarity.

The soldiers relaxed slightly, shoulders dropping, grips on weapons loosening, though vigilance remained in their eyes.

Even Ling Yan and her generals began to loosen their shoulders in this new place. The suffocating darkness was gone, replaced by boundless sky and an endless sea of grass.

The breeze was cool, the scent of wild earth fresh, and for the first time since entering the ruins, their hearts grew light.

It was like stepping back into their childhood homes, warmth, safety, and familiarity washing over them like a tide.

A sense of nostalgia quickly clouded their alert minds.

Just then, Lina's ethereal voice pierced through their thoughts, trembling yet clear.

"I-it's all an illusion. Do not get stuck in it… o-otherwise you might lose your mind."

Her warning cut across their minds like a whip. Soldiers staggered out of their daze, eyes wide in realization.

Many clenched their fists, gritted their teeth, and forced themselves to resist the pull that tried to lull them deeper into the trance.

Yet the temptation did not stop; it pressed on them ceaselessly, urging them to sink back into that soothing warmth, to lower their guard and rest.

Some, however, remained unmoved. Ian, the masked guard, stood still as a statue.

Veterans among Reynold's army, disciplined men hardened by years of blood and steel, showed little reaction, their eyes sharp and unclouded. They seemed conditioned, their minds already immune to such soft entrapments.

Reynold, however, did not seem to resist. His steps slowed, his gaze softened.

Then he heard a voice.

"Brother, are you going alone?"

Reynold froze. Slowly, he turned, and there she was. Silica, his little sister, was standing in the tall grass, sunlight gleaming against her hair.

Spark was at her side, dragged forward by her small hand.

"It could be dangerous. Let us come with you," Silica pleaded, tugging Spark along.

"No, I don't want to go," Spark muttered, frowning, his childish stubbornness clear.

And then, another voice. Gentle. Warm. A voice that should not exist here.

"You two, he is only going for training. He'll be back soon."

Sophia. His mother. She stood there as if time had turned back.

The warmth wrapped around him, threatening to pull him under. His chest tightened. His vision blurred.

Am I… dreaming?

Ting!

A sharp ringing struck his subconscious, like steel on steel. The figures before him shattered into mist.

"S-senior, wake up!"

Blinking, his gaze dropped to the source of the ringing sound, a staff pressed against his chestplate.

At the other end, Lina stared at him nervously, her hand trembling.

His soldiers looked at him with worry. Just now, their leader had been lost, trapped inside the illusion.

"…this is the second time," Reynold murmured, rubbing his forehead. His voice was steady, but his heart was unsettled.

Then he noticed it. A vast dome of green energy enclosed both armies, shimmering faintly as if breathing.

The illusion's pressure was weakening, though it still pressed faintly at the edges of the mind.

The source was Lina, her staff, radiating the protective glow.

As if to answer his thoughts, Lina spoke softly. "T-this barrier will lessen the illusion's effect… but it cannot fully block it."

She glanced up at him with worried eyes. "S-senior, I think you should rest. You looked… troubled."

Reynold shook his head, straightening his back. "Don't worry. I can still continue. If we waste too much time here, we'll fall behind the other groups."

"A-about that," Lina stammered, clutching her staff closer to her chest. "Senior shouldn't worry. I-I can help clear the next two layers, so we can make up for the lost time."

Reynold turned his head toward her. "You can? What lies in the next two layers?"

"F-from what the elders reported…" she said nervously, "the next two layers mainly consist of illusions and formations."

Lina was not only an Arcane Ascendant, gifted in using illusions and breaking through mental snares, but also a Formation Master, a rarity even among elites.

Her mastery over runes and spatial patterns allowed her to decipher arrays that could trap armies or shatter minds.

In these ruins, where illusions and formations were common, her presence was like a spare life.

Reynold's stern features softened, and a rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Thank you."

Her ears flushed crimson. She quickly lowered her head, gripping her staff tighter. "O-of course… t-that's what I'm here for."

Ling Yan agreed to take a break. Her sharp eyes swept over her soldiers, though they had survived the previous trial without casualties, she could see the fatigue etched in their movements.

"Rest here for a moment," Ling Yan commanded.

The soldiers obeyed without hesitation. Packs were opened, rations distributed.

The general who had fired the bow earlier sat cross-legged, downing a potion that shimmered faintly before stretching his arms, letting energy pulse back into his weary body.

The grassy field felt deceptively peaceful, yet the illusion's lingering pressure was still present, like a hand pressing faintly on the back of their necks, waiting for them to let down their guard.

Still, within Lina's green barrier, the soldiers' shoulders gradually loosened, breaths evening out as they recovered.

After a short rest, the two armies regrouped. Armor was adjusted, weapons checked, and formation reestablished.

Ling Yan led at the front, her expression calm but resolute. Reynold and his men stood at her rear.

With the plains stretching endlessly before them, they turned their eyes to the forest looming in the distance.

Step by step, they began their march forward, toward the forest.