The wind howled at the mountain's peak as Ronan, Orin, and Tavin stood side by side, gazing at the vast landscape below. Despite the serene view, the remnants of Corrupted Mana tainted the horizon, twisting the once-lush greenery into a lifeless wasteland. Ronan clenched his fists, his heart heavy at the sight.
"It must have been beautiful before all this," he murmured, his voice laced with sorrow.
Orin, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, suddenly pointed ahead. "Look there! That's the Corrupted Mana zone."
Tavin furrowed his brows. "What could have caused this? Is it just the remnants of an old battle, or is something else at play?"
Orin sighed. "Hard to say. But places like this often hold hidden secrets. Have you two ever heard about secret realms?"
Ronan and Tavin exchanged glances before Ronan asked, "Secret realm? What do you mean?"
Orin crossed his arms. "There are two types of secret realms. The first kind exists within objects or artefacts. It's a separate space, much like the storage inside a Storage Ring. Creating one of these is incredibly difficult—it can take anywhere from fifteen to twenty years to forge a single one. At least, that's what I heard."
Tavin's eyes widened in surprise. "But then, how come Storage Rings are so common?"
Orin smirked. "They might be common, but their space is limited compared to high-grade Storage Rings. Those take much longer to craft and require rare materials."
Ronan nodded thoughtfully. "And the second type?"
Orin's expression turned serious. "Their origin is unknown. Nobody truly knows where they come from. They're called Dimension Rifts—naturally occurring spaces that appear out of nowhere. Some say they have existed since ancient times, while others believe they were left behind by lost civilisations. And when a Dimensional Rift is purified from corrupted mana or miasma, it becomes what we call a Secret Realm."
Ronan rubbed his chin. "So, does that mean it's possible to purify Dimension Rifts from corrupted mana or miasma?"
Orin hesitated before nodding. "It is possible, but I heard it's extremely difficult. I don't know the exact reason why."
Ronan's eyes gleamed with determination. "Then, when we're strong enough, we'll find out ourselves. We'll uncover the truth."
The three shared a firm nod, their resolve unwavering. The sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and violet.
Tavin exhaled. "We should head back now. It's getting late."
Orin and Ronan agreed, turning to descend the mountain. But just as they took their first steps, a sudden heatwave swept through the air. A fireball shot toward them at an alarming speed.
"Watch out!" Ronan shouted.
The three of them leapt aside as the fireball crashed onto the ground, sending a shockwave of heat and dust into the air. As the smoke cleared, Ronan quickly scanned the area.
"Who are you?!" he demanded, his hand gripping his sword.
Orin narrowed his eyes. "Look carefully… They're not human. They're puppets!"
Three humanoid figures emerged from the shadows, their metallic frames gleaming under the fading sunlight. Their eyes glowed eerily as they took a battle stance.
Tavin's expression darkened. "I thought this area was fully explored. Why are there puppets here?"
There was no time for further speculation. The puppets lunged at them, their attacks swift and unrelenting. Ronan barely managed to block an overhead strike, the force behind it sending vibrations through his arms. Orin spun his spear to parry a thrust while Tavin sidestepped and retaliated with a precise slash.
"We didn't trigger any traps," Ronan said through gritted teeth. "And they're not guarding anything either… Someone must be controlling them!"
"They are the same Tier as us," Orin noted, dodging an attack. "But their strength and endurance are far superior!"
Tavin barely deflected a heavy punch. "I doubt we can just run away now!"
Ronan gritted his teeth and struck one of the puppets, but it barely flinched. "Then let's fight!"
The battle raged on, but the three quickly realized a flaw in the puppet's combat approach. Each of them was fighting alone rather than working as a team.
Ronan panted, dodging a strike. "We need a strategy!"
Tavin deflected an attack with his sword. "Any ideas?!"
Orin smirked. "That's your job to figure out, Ronan!"
Ronan took a deep breath and ignited his flames. "Flare Burst!"
Countless small fireballs shot toward a puppet, but it instantly countered with "Molten Shield," nullifying the attack. At the same time, Orin unleashed his thunder skill.
"Storm Lance!" A bolt of lightning shot forward in a straight line, but the puppet countered with the exact same skill, neutralising it entirely.
Tavin swung his sword, unleashing "Torrent Slash," a long-range, mana-infused slash. The puppet mirrored him, using "Torrent Reflection," deflecting the attack with ease.
They were being pushed back. Ronan's heart pounded. "They're using our own skills… but even more efficiently!"
The puppets resumed their relentless assault. Ronan met one with his sword, the clash of fire and steel illuminating the battlefield. Orin weaved between strikes, his spear crackling with thunder and wind, but his opponent countered with the same mastery. Tavin's water-infused blade clashed against a mirror image of himself, the droplets scattering like shards of glass.
Hours passed. The once-vibrant sky had turned pitch black, and exhaustion gnawed at their limbs. Sweat dripped down Orin's forehead as he panted heavily.
"Ronan! Think of something, or we're dead!" he shouted, desperation lacing his voice.
Ronan wiped the blood from his lip, his mind racing. Then, an idea struck him.
"I have a plan!" he declared, eyes burning with renewed determination.
The battle wasn't over yet, but this time, they had to fight smart to win.
Ronan wiped the sweat off his cheek, his mind racing as he surveyed the battle before him. "I have an idea," he said, catching his breath. "But I'm not sure how effective it'll be."
Orin, ever eager, grinned. "Don't waste time then—let's try it!"
Ronan nodded, his sharp eyes analysing their opponents. "They're not attacking as a coordinated team. We can use their own attacks against them. And have you noticed? Every time we try to switch opponents, they don't let it happen."
Tavin narrowed his eyes, and his muscles tensed. "Yeah… It feels like we're fighting against ourselves, but somehow they're stronger."
"Exactly," Ronan said. "So here's the plan—we'll be bait. Let's force them to use their strongest attacks."
Tavin exhaled sharply and stepped forward. "Alright, I'll go first."