On the shores of Clontarf East, metal clashed. Players versus players. Orkney Vikings and Mann Vikings versus the Dal Mais. Blood was shed. Magical spells were casted. On the sea, the Viking army were being ambushed by mages, whittling down their numbers and evening out the odds on land. The sheer scale of the conflict was such that despite technically fighting alongside Dal Mais and Marchad, William had no idea where they were. He was in his own group fighting his own battle.

“Whirlwind Strike!” William sliced away fire spell after fire spell. Being a warrior of mighty physical strength, his skills cost very little in terms of mana, so he was able to swing away and lean on his natural MP regeneration. Every minute, he gained 54 MP. Whirlwind Strike cost 6 MP each.

“Whirlwind Strike! Whirlwind Strike!”

There were so many battles, so many enemies and guilds. The dust of magic and blood kicked up and began to blur his vision. In the distance were gunshots, shocking William though not deterring him.

His opponents were a line of mages belonging to the Alhambra Guardians. Decked in handsome coats of blue mage attire, they muttered incarnations and sent off spells in groups of two or three. In total, there were twenty so there was less than two seconds to move forward in between. William was joined by Max and five additional Templars, slowly pushing through with their shields and speed.

Ordinary soldiers that attempted to join them were struck by a spell and killed. Thirty metres, twenty five metres, fifteen metres…

“Ugh!” Max’s shield parried a Fire Ball, though he was nearly lifted from the ground. “I’m fine!”

…they were getting close.

“William, go! I’ll be behind you!” Max yelled. “They can’t keep spamming magic forever, not when their shields are also burning through their magic.”

No use holding back against a squadron belonging to one of the Big Three. William sucked up a breath and muttered in his head, ‘Advanced Flow of Mana Lv. 3.’ His world became a blur and he arrived to see the shocked expression of two mages. William grit his teeth, pushing past the disorienting world, and smashed his axe down on their shields.

Shatter!

The last bits of Advanced Flow of Mana lingered and with an attack stat that sat at 245, it shattered the shield like nothing. His axe came down upon the shoulder of the mage, followed up by a kick to the stomach. His strength without his axe was at 179 and the blue mage robes were of high enough quality to survive the attack.

Suffice to say, the mage was defeated but not dead. William didn’t want to kill another player if he didn’t have to.

But the same mercy didn’t apply to him. Two mages were on his flank and they were ready to blast him with a fire spell. “Fire Da—”

Their spells went unfinished as Max and the Templars attacked. Distracted, William sucked in a breath and chanted, “Whirlwind Strike!”

Shatter! Shatter!

He struck the shield of the mage to his left. Max and the Templars attempted to do the same, with varying success. Though outnumbered, at close-range, the mages were forced to divert their mana to their shields. Max went from one to the other, constantly pressuring them into breaking off their spells.

William remembered Marta’s training and that being able to cast spells through shields required skill that the System did not give. Finding that skill through the rush of combat was difficult. He now understood why Kazi had been pressuring Marta to learn it. It seemed like without the System, the mages were essentially only capable of buying time in close-quarter combat. They spent all their time learning to shoot spells through their shields from a long-distance that they forgot to consider shooting it while being attacked.

“Whirlwind Strike!” A kick. “Whirlwind Strike!” A punch.

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Shatter! Shatter! Shatter!

No, given the luxurious reputation of the Alhambara Guardians, they were taught to do as much. However, they possessed so little battle experience that they were forgetting to employ it. William was able to see in their eyes, they were panicking every time he struck at them.

In a matter of two minutes, William and his six Templar allies defeated the Amateur Mage Squadron of the Alhambra Guardians. Two were killed, eighteen were knocked out. William steadied his breath, his two hands holding his dane axe with a quiver.

“That was close—”

William’s remark was interrupted by an attack. Several swordsmen and axemen came at him and he instinctively casted, ‘Advanced Flow of Mana Lv. 7!’ The dark mana swelled inside him and the two warriors that had been charging at him were blasted away.

But William had caught the man leading the group. It was him. Nash, the annoying British gangster wannabe. ‘He’s here too?’

William wanted to turn and face him. Before he could, the hairs on his back went up.

Magic sensitivity. He saw the pop-up and hurriedly turned right back around.

Clang!

Bright silver earrings flashed his vision and a fist perfectly matched the curve of his axe.

“Woah. Do you have eyes in the back of your head?”

The Intermediate Martial Artist, Hugo Sánchez, had arrived.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Nash told me all about you. You’re pretty strong.”

William narrowed his eyes and put pressure against him. It worked and Hugo slipped out of the clash, dusting off his fancy, thick red tunic. An otherworldly white glow enveloped his fist. William swallowed the fear in his throat.

“To be honest, I don’t like to fight, so please try and keep me occupied.”

Seeing him so calm and collected, William recalled a certain man's appraisal of Hugo:

“I have encountered many players but there are few that I would claim to be truly powerful. Hugo Sánchez is one of those players. He and I and one other player fought against the Slime Queen together. We split ways after the battle but I will never forget them for as long as I live. I have met a lot of fighters in my life. I have boxed and fenced. In everything I have seen in my life, Hugo Sánchez stands above the riff-raff.”

“What? Surprised? Just because I’m competitive doesn’t mean I’m blood-thirsty.” Like with Astrid, a tinge of colour accompanied his aura: a yellow-ish white. William didn’t understand its significance but what he did know was that Hugo was dangerous.

He began walking. William mirrored him. Axes offered little in defense. If he was dangerous, if he wanted to win, he would have to man up and go for the attack. “Whirlwind Strike—”

“Flared Push Kick.” Hugo launched off into a sprint and throttled through the air like a rocket. His foot slammed into his cheek and he landed on one foot with the other raised for a kick. Bam! The kick struck and William was able to taste blood in his mouth. Gritting his teeth, he swung his axe, still imbued with the wind, and missed by a hair’s breadth. Hugo had ducked and followed up with an uppercut.

William reeled back. His attacks were fast but not decisive. ‘I can survive.’ A breath and a small smile. ‘Advanced Flow of Mana Lv. 7!’

Hugo went wide-eyed as William burst into a charge. Something was amiss though. Unlike with Goliath or the players he previously stomped through, Hugo’s eyes were seeing him. Really seeing him.

And he blew right past him. “What?” William did a heel turn, saw that Hugo’s back was to him, and chanted the words out loud. “Advanced Flow of Mana Lv. 7!”

The distance was maybe ten metres. Even so, with his back, Hugo shouldn’t have been able to react, but he did. He leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding William’s up-slash. Surprised by the sudden difference in space, he nearly tripped on his feet.

Panting, he turned and saw Hugo sitting on a nearby rock, arms and legs crossed. His head was tilted to the side, his gaze scanning him. William didn’t care what he was doing as long as he could catch his breath. Back to back bursts of Advanced Flow of Mana did a number on his body, though admittedly, seeing him casually sit like that did irk him.

“Your striking power is amazing. Far above my own. I thought I could use Starfall Fist to blind but you’re just too fast. I was told not to reveal this but…I’ll have to make an exception.” Hugo got up and dusted himself off again. Smiling, he slowly stretched out a hand and as if moving the very world a burst of magical energy erupted. “Let’s see how you deal with this: Holy Flames.”

His class had changed from Intermediate Martial Artist to Warrior of Light. His earrings glimmered even within the light-red fog of the battlefield as his hands steadily went in a circle, carrying hot white flames.

‘Warrior of Light? Holy Flames?’ His own darkness dimmed. ‘What?’

His white flames drew a complex magical circle in the air.

[ Warning! Powerful surge of magic! ]

[ Warning! Powerful surge of magic! ]

William caught his breath. He didn’t have time to think. His instincts flared up and his axe became charged with Whirlwind Strike. He let his body maintain the hurricane-like wind while his mind activated the System.

“Advanced Flow of Mana Lv. 7.”

“Nice.” Hugo extended both of his hands, grinning. The Holy Flames flickered with an eerie sound, like metal screeching in a factory. “I hope you live through this, William Martin.”

Through the magic circle, the Holy Flames fired away. His weapon at the pinnacle of his power, William charged forward. As the two attacks converged, the world went white.