Chapter Forty-Seven: Illusory Moon

First came the battle for third and fourth place: Lone Sword swept away versus Silver Moon. There was little suspense, as Lone Sword swept away simply forfeited and left the field, so Silver Moon inexplicably took third place.

Then came the contest for the championship. Almost everyone hoped I would lose, and for one simple reason: dramatic miracles don’t happen twice.

I quickly appeared in the arena. Looking at Illusory Moon, I smiled and said, “Why do you always wear that helmet? Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

The other merely shook their head.

“It feels odd to compete against someone whose face I can’t see,” I said.

“You really want to see what I look like?” To my surprise, the person actually spoke. Yet the voice was so mixed and distorted I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman.

I nodded. “I do.”

“If you beat me, you’ll see it. Or you could just knock my helmet off.” As they spoke, they tapped their helmet.

“…”

The match began. I immediately summoned all my beasts and stood ready, while Illusory Moon advanced unhurriedly. Clad in bizarre, gleaming silver armor that covered even the head, only a pair of eyes was visible.

Instinct told me that anyone who could swagger into the finals like this was no ordinary opponent—this was a top-tier expert. No matter the class, to advance so slowly in a one-on-one duel showed absolute confidence and strength. Knowing my adversary was unprecedentedly powerful, I was not just anxious but excited; perhaps this was my first time facing a true master in this world, and it ignited my thirst for victory.

The arena was only 400 meters long, but with each step Illusory Moon drew closer, my heart pounded harder. This person was nothing like others I’d met before—neither ignorant nor arrogant, nor relying on connections. Instead, they exuded a calm, steady confidence with every step.

When Illusory Moon was about 100 meters from me, I sneered, “If you’re too confident, you’ll pay for it.” With that, the Mud Python spat a poison bomb with a shrill whistle.

What happened next defied belief. With a crisp “ding,” the bomb struck Illusory Moon squarely in the chest. The armor exploded, and a damage number—13—floated up.

“That’s impossible.” I doubted my eyes and had Mud Python fire again.

Just as a bullet is loyal to its shooter, a summoned beast is absolutely loyal to its summoner—it never lies. The second strike dealt 15 damage! The Mud Python’s attack was weak, but not that weak.

Illusory Moon didn’t even flinch—instead, they glanced at me with a mocking smile. In that instant, it was as if a torrential rain crashed down in my heart. The shock was immense, but one thing was certain: their equipment was definitely superior to mine. At least top-tier green gear, possibly even silver, or higher.

But no matter what—whether legendary or divine—I would not be afraid. In battle, composure is vital; panic means defeat.

My palms were slick with sweat. The Phantom Knight’s class was already formidable, and with such gear, their defense and attributes were terrifyingly high.

I ordered the Horned Lizard to attack. It rushed forward, grabbing Illusory Moon’s shoulders, trying to topple them. But no matter how hard it pulled, Illusory Moon didn’t budge.

Then Illusory Moon grabbed the lizard’s arm and effortlessly threw it aside. As the lizard flew, the Hurricane Wolf King spat a spiraling tornado. The arena filled with wild winds, a powerful twister surging forth.

Countless wind blades flashed over Illusory Moon’s armor, like strings of firecrackers: 24, 22, 26, 23…

This time, Illusory Moon struggled to keep their footing—not from injury, but from the sheer force of the hurricane.

A few seconds later, the storm ceased. Illusory Moon steadied themselves and said coolly, “Not bad.”

No sooner had the words left their lips than Illusory Moon leapt upward, leaving a dizzying afterimage along the mountain path.

Charge was a basic warrior skill—but to move with such speed! In seconds, Illusory Moon was past the Hurricane Wolf King, less than ten meters from me.

My breath almost stopped. I’d never seen such a swift charge; even a master couldn’t do better. Escaping this would be a miracle.

I realized that trying to keep my distance would only mean death, so I gripped the Ruyi Staff and advanced, studying Illusory Moon intently.

Their armor was dazzling, the greatsword on their back impressive, though the hidden face was unsettling. Illusory Moon looked at me and said, “You seem very interested in my appearance.”

I nodded, but before I knew it, two katanas—one red, one blue—appeared in Illusory Moon’s hands. They raised them, admiring the blades as if gazing at a masterpiece, satisfaction gleaming in their eyes.

They appeared relaxed, but I dared not let down my guard; their demeanor signaled imminent action.

Sure enough, moments later, Illusory Moon soared into the air. Red and blue light flashed as their blades descended. The Hurricane Wolf King spat another tornado, deflecting Illusory Moon’s attack. The ground exploded with a bang, forming a small crater. Using the blast’s force, Illusory Moon rebounded, spinning midair. The Wolf King’s attack barely dealt over 100 damage.

With a sharp crack, Illusory Moon’s boot kicked the Wolf King’s face. The beast flew a dozen meters, slammed into a wall, and a damage number—233—floated up.

The strike left the Wolf King dazed and breathless, sprawling motionless—likely unconscious. One kick, and the Wolf King was down; a blade would have meant serious injury.

Illusory Moon’s twin blades then shimmered with red and blue energy. I retreated, but Illusory Moon sprang forward, flipping through the air, changing direction, and attacking again. I had nowhere to dodge; the red blade slashed my left shoulder, tearing open my armor and drawing a spray of blood. A burning pain seared through me as a damage number—1856—appeared.

It wasn’t over. The blue blade followed. I activated Feint, but my shield shattered the instant it formed. Then came a kick—I was sent flying, spinning through the air in a parabola before crashing down.

I staggered up, gulped down a pile of potions, and recalled the Wolf King. The Horned Lizard and Mud Python stood by me. I realized I couldn’t go on like this; my opponent’s gear was too strong. I had to find a weakness, or I was doomed.

“It’s over,” Illusory Moon charged again, twin blades gathering red and blue energy.

The Horned Lizard rushed to intercept, and the Mud Python spat acid, but Illusory Moon dodged with ease and stabbed the lizard—1920 damage. The lizard collapsed. The Mud Python circled behind, but Illusory Moon’s reaction was lightning quick. With one hand, they grabbed the python at its weak spot, squeezed, and blood spurted from its mouth. The beast slumped, barely clinging to life.

But Illusory Moon didn’t finish them off—turning instead to me. I met them head-on, unleashing Crushing Blow, Energy Burst, and Assault: 30, 127, 50, 63. Seeing these paltry numbers, my heart sank.

Illusory Moon’s twin blades formed a cross, slicing arcs of dazzling light—612, 688, 628. The damage numbers flashed by.

With a heavy thud, I lay bleeding on the arena floor. My chest was slashed in a cross, blood pouring out. My armor was shattered, my health down to 72, my body near immobile. This time, death seemed certain.

“You’re the first to survive my Cross Slash. Not bad. But now the game is over.” Illusory Moon sheathed their blades and drew the greatsword from their back. That blow would be fatal.

Face covered in blood, I gasped, “It’s not over yet.” As I spoke, a magic circle appeared on the ground. “I overlay my summoned beasts—Horned Lizard and Mud Python—to create the conditions for a new life. Overlay Summon! Descend, my new comrade! In the name of the Summoner, I call to you—answer me!”