Ragnar could hardly believe he was inside a past version of the Iron Bears’ Refuge. Experiences like this were rare as New Avalon was a world shrouded in mysteries, especially regarding its past.

  If there is a New Avalon, then there must have been an Old Avalon, Ragnar repeated in his mind one of the biggest jokes in the game community.

  Bjorn was in front of him, sitting cross-legged on the arena floor, meditating. After a few minutes, he spoke in a calm voice:

  “I feel like you want to ask me something. Go ahead.”

  “What do you know about Avalon’s past?”

  “The same as you, very little. The origin of Avalon and its kingdoms is a mystery that even the spirits from three centuries ago did not know.”

  “And the spirits from a thousand years ago?” Ragnar asked.

  “They are fragile and almost impossible to find. Remember, spirits detach from our world over the years. But for your luck, I might still have about two more centuries left.”

  Ragnar thanked him, but his curiosity was still not satisfied.

  “What’s the next trial?"

  Bjorn stood up, leaning on his staff.

  “We’re going to test your animal transformation. So… I hope you’ve trained a lot, because I know how hard it is to get used to bodies so different from ours.” He paused for a moment. “Shall we start the third trial?”

  Ragnar nodded in confirmation. As usual, each went to a corner of the arena. Before starting, Bjorn warned him, “During this trial, you cannot return to human form. Other than that, anything goes.”

  “Understood.”

  “Begin!” the archdruid’s spirit announced, transforming into a large red-furred iron bear, as big as Torvell. He charged, gaining momentum, and leaped with his right paw raised to strike down in a devastating blow.

  Ragnar transformed; not into a bear, but into a serpent.

  The red bear’s paw slammed against the arena floor. Ragnar seized the moment, coiling around it and slithering up Bjorn’s body until he wrapped tightly around his neck. He applied full force, twisting himself, tightening to the maximum in a deadly grip against the bear’s throat.

  The fatal strike landed. The massive damage, cutting 10% of Bjorn’s HP, flashed before the druid’s eyes, filling him with excitement.

  But Bjorn did not plan to stand still. He rose on his hind legs, struck his chest with his right paw, and managed to roar despite the serpent’s grip.

  Iron spikes shot out from his body, two hitting Ragnar. One spike pierced his tail, the other grazed the right side of his head.

  To his relief, the damage wasn’t significant enough to worry about, but the spikes did make him fall off the red bear. Ragnar was vulnerable, sprawled on the ground with a huge creature standing over him, ready to attack.

  Thirty seconds had passed since he became a serpent; the animal transformation was off cooldown. And when Bjorn lunged forward, he was surprised—the snake had transformed into a black bear that, though not as large as him, still had enough mass to stop the attack.

  Ragnar activated the only spell he could cast in animal form: Storm’s Wrath. With the increased agility and strengthened attacks with electrical damage, he launched at his opponent.

  They collided. Red and black fur intertwined. Standing, they tried to harm each other. Ragnar managed to sink his fangs into the iron bear’s neck but soon felt something tear his left flank from top to bottom.

  Both released each other and stepped back. Ragnar looked at the wound marks left by the red bear’s iron claws. This time he lost, even while biting a vital spot and under the effect of Storm’s Wrath, the damage he took was greater due to the level difference between them.

  The key to victory lay in the intelligent use of the serpent form, as in a bear-on-bear clash, the advantage leaned toward Bjorn. Knowing this, Ragnar changed his combat tactic.

  The bear form, being more resilient, was used to block the opponent’s advances. The serpent form was used to attack, aiming to surprise and coil around a weak point of the enemy, preferably the neck, where the damage from the Coil and Crush would be critical.

  The duel continued with Ragnar abusing the new tactic. With each exchange alternating between the two transformations. There were moments when Bjorn activated the ability that caused iron spikes to emerge from his body, but Ragnar escaped every time, releasing the bear after executing the Coil and Crush special attack.

  The red bear dropped to 1 health point; the druid had passed the trial. This phase lasted 38 minutes. Now 28 minutes remained to complete the fourth and final stage of the trials.

  “Very, very good,” said Bjorn. “That is the true strength of a druid.”

  Despite the praise, Ragnar was worried about the remaining time, certain the last trial would be the hardest of all.

  Of the three phases completed, only the first finished in less than 28 minutes, while the longest, the second, took 92 minutes.

  Bjorn returned to human form and walked to the center of the arena.

  “We’ve reached the final phase. And as you can probably guess, it will have a bit of each of the previous trials.”

  He struck his staff on the ground. The left half of his body was enveloped by a bluish aura that absorbed magical damage; his right side was covered by an orange aura that absorbed physical damage.

  Ragnar felt apprehensive. Partly relieved that his opponent had a body area vulnerable to physical damage, on the other hand, this demanded even greater precision in his attacks.

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  Little did he know, Bjorn wasn’t finished. The staff struck the wooden floor once more, and the auras began rotating around his body, remaining separated on the vertical axis.

  Since each aura covered half the body, a full rotation took about six seconds. This wasn’t fast, but it wasn’t slow either; it was designed to challenge the opponent’s precision and predictive ability.

  Ragnar took a deep breath, already knowing he’d need 100% focus to finish in under 28 minutes. As usual, he waited for Bjorn to list the rules and specifics of the phase, but all he said was, “Anything goes now. Show me what you’re capable of, because I will too.”

  At the last syllable, Bjorn’s feet and fists were engulfed in red flames. He leapt, raised his staff midair, and descended at incredible speed.

  The arena shook. Wooden boards splintered from the impact, sending shards flying in all directions. But Ragnar was already behind Bjorn, his body crackling with lightning.

  Fire and lightning clashed. Strengthened by his increased agility, Ragnar thrust his spear mercilessly at Bjorn’s bluish aura, then retreated to avoid a counterattack, firing Lightning Bolts at the orange one.

  Bjorn attacked in a fury but suffered the third Shock mark. Ragnar moved his spear and cast the fourth spell. The electric discharge hit the opponent’s face, then lightning struck from the sky, stunning him.

  Ragnar advanced in bear form, reactivating Storm’s Wrath. A rain of paw strikes fell on Bjorn. As the stun effect was about to wear off, Ragnar bit the opponent, and then stepped back to recover some mana and energy.

  “You’re a monster in combat,” Bjorn admitted. “But so am I.”

  The archdruid transformed into the large red-furred iron bear, but unlike before, flames emanated from his body. Getting close was an invitation to get burned. Transforming into a serpent was out of the question.

  Ragnar focused, thinking of ways to deal damage without getting burned. The spear would be effective if he abused its range. Spells were also viable, though limited by the mana available, which wasn’t much.

  He turned his attention to the arena, as the flaming bear charged at him.

  Ragnar dodged, kept his distance, and alternated between spear thrusts and lightning casts.

  Fifteen minutes passed, thirteen remained, and Bjorn’s health was still above half.

  Concentration began to wane, desperation to fail emerged; not only in Ragnar but also in Daniel, who had been hours inside the immersion capsule trying to complete this unique mission.

  Breathing became erratic. Sweat dripped down his face. The hand trembled, and negative thoughts flooded his mind, leaving him terrified. Memories from a year ago cleared the darkness inside him.

  ***

  He was no longer in the sanctuary, but on the battlefield of the 6th World Championship semifinals. The in-game setting was the ruins of a city surrounded by the scorching desert sand.

  Daniel controlled his old avatar, Dante. When he looked at the Amethyst Hammer in his right hand, a wave of nostalgia reminded him of his peak, his glory days in the Dark Age main team.

  Then he looked up and saw his teammate fall to the twin blades of the legendary duelist clad in a long white fabric outfit over a thin silver breastplate.

  The man turned toward him. This was the only swordsman in all of New Avalon Online capable of wielding two swords. His name was White Snow, the best player in the world.

  They faced each other, motionless, then advanced, exchanged blows until the decisive moment, when White Snow prepared his final attack.

  Day turned to night. The moon rose high, and seventy-seven sword strikes flashed in mere seconds.

  Dante fell to the ground. A huge “You Died” flashed in red on the VR display.

  Daniel opened the immersion capsule. It felt as if all his strength had drained.

  When he got up, he saw Júlia. Her wide brown eyes shone, tears streamed down her face, but she seemed not to care. In a heart-wrenching voice, she said:

  “We lost…”

  “Yes,” Daniel replied, holding back his own tears.

  She threw herself at him, clutching his jacket, sobbing, “We lost!”

  The first tear escaped Daniel’s eyes. Trying to hide his sadness, he said, “Why are you crying? This is your first time…”

  Then all the memorable moments of that season replayed before his eyes: the countless hours of training, the long meetings, the many fights over trivial matters, the rare parties where everyone went wild to release tension, and the victories that made it all worthwhile.

  ***

  He closed his eyes, and when opened again, he was back in the sanctuary. The large red bear ablaze with flames was preparing to attack.

  Ragnar struck the ground with the butt of his spear; roots sprouted beneath Bjorn, imprisoning him. Then executed a series of strikes and lightning casts, raising his DPS to an unprecedented level since the first trial began.

  Five minutes remained. His focus was 100% on the battle: physical hits on the bluish aura, magical on the orange. By then, the flames from Bjorn were no longer a problem, as Ragnar thrust and cut with the tip of the spear while keeping a safe distance.

  Two minutes remained, and 10% of life to reduce. To emerge victorious, he needed to increase his DPS even more. Ragnar hesitated for a moment, then shook his head, feeling adrenaline surge.

  His focus reached a level seen only in the most difficult, decisive duels of his career. Smiling, he saw Storm’s Wrath returning from cooldown along with animal transformation.

  Ragnar advanced, cast lightning, slid under the large bear, cast a second lightning bolt, took some fire damage from being too close, but avoided the incoming strike.

  Standing with his back to the opponent, he spun with the spear, executing a cut, facing the target to hit with a third lightning and a sequence of six thrusts, finishing by casting the fourth lightning, which triggered the stun effect with a lightning strike from the skies.

  Thirty seconds remained before the time limit, and 4% of the opponent’s life. Ragnar ran to stand in front of Bjorn to strike vital points with the spear.

  With ten seconds left, he leapt, transforming into a serpent, coiling around the neck as he had at the start. The fatal strike landed; life dropped to 0.2% of the total, but only 1 second remained.

  Ragnar felt as if time had stopped. The opponent was nearly dead, the remaining time had practically run out. There was no way to land another strike in time.

  It was over; the mission had failed.

  He fell to the ground, in serpent form staring at the blue sky, cloudless. Ragnar felt absolutely nothing. The only thought in his mind was:

  I lost again.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something strange.

  Final Trial completed in 27 minutes, 59 seconds, and 330 milliseconds.

  Final Strike: Viper's Ruin poison.

  “Defeated by my own creation,” Bjorn lamented as he stood up. “Congratulations, you surprised me. There were moments I doubted your abilities, but this ending: incredible… just… incredible.”

  Ragnar continued staring at the sky, still lost in thought.

  The spear’s poison…

  He then returned to human form, stood up, and checked the challenge summary table. It listed the trials, completion times, and total remaining time, formatted as: “hours:minutes:seconds,milliseconds.”

  He had been 279 milliseconds from failure. No professional circuit battle had ever been so tight.

  As his adrenaline faded, exhaustion took over. He could barely stand. A sequence of messages appeared on his visor:

  User unconscious

  Sleep state detected

  System entering hibernation mode…

  “What a pity,” said Bjorn, watching his successor’s avatar fade away.

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