Jeremy did not hesitate in the slightest, immediately dismissing all calculations about previous reality reflections, and rendering a new, ironclad conclusion: Fake. Everything was just a pile of fictional garbage self-directed and self-acted by the illusion.
Probably because he was too speechless at this ridiculous script, Jeremy’s consciousness directly jolted, tearing apart the illusionary membrane and waking up.
The tearing pain on his physical body and the oppression from his soul had completely dissipated. The surrounding pitch-black environment had originally, at some unknown point, become bright.
Leon, Phoenix, and Evelyn were still slumped on the ground, breathing heavily. Surely the three of them were still trapped deep within the mire of their psychological illusions.
As for Lucius...
He seemed to have escaped the illusion a long time ago. At this moment, the silver-haired youth had his long legs crossed, leaning lazily against a white jade stone pillar. His long eyelashes drooped slightly, his slender fingers absentmindedly twirling a moonlight-white bone ring.
Jeremy was just about to shift his gaze, when Lucius seemed to catch his sharp frequency, suddenly looking up.
The moment their eyes collided, deep within his emerald green pupils, as still as a pool of stagnant water, a layer of amusement suddenly rippled.
Witnessing the bewitching smile surging in those eyes that were usually as silent as an abyss, the only thought that popped into Jeremy’s mind was: It turns out this freakish guy also had times when he radiated such an oppressive, dangerously quiet aura.
To be more precise, before that layer of amusement appeared, Lucius’s silence radiated a feeling that was incredibly distant, ruthless, and full of defensiveness.
"Hmph..."
A muffled groan mixed with fury echoed nearby. It was Leon who had woken up.
Jeremy withdrew his gaze, immediately brushing aside the thoughts that had just flashed through his mind. They had only been grouped into a team for less than half a month; whether they were distant or not, what the hell did it have to do with his survival.
His gaze swept over Leon, who was bracing one hand against the stone pillar, struggling to stand up straight. His face was pale and bloodless, his angular features tense. The pressure radiating from Leon right now dropped below zero, his murderous intent brimming as if roaring: ’Whoever dares open their mouth to provoke me right now, I will chop them to pieces.’
Not long after, Evelyn and Phoenix also woke up one after another. Their mental states didn’t look as explosive as Leon’s, but exhaustion was clearly evident on their faces.
Before the five of them had time to regulate their breathing, the structure of the surrounding space was bent once again.
The suffocating cage scenery vanished in the blink of an eye, replaced by a vast, open-air magical arena, specifically designed for first-year students. This colossal architecture sat squarely in the western sector of the Anima Faculty.
The corner of Jeremy’s eyes sharply swept over the scenery in all four directions. It seemed the two tests torturing mind and body had officially concluded.
Griffin’s slender figure suddenly appeared on the second-floor balcony of the arena. The instructor nonchalantly glanced at his magical pocket watch. His tone still carried a soothing gentleness, his appearance bizarrely mild.
But regardless of his gaze or tone, everything radiated a chilling coldness: "The fourth and fifth lessons consumed exactly 35 hours and 49 minutes of your time. For this final practical magical combat lesson, the time limit for you is exactly 12 hours remaining. I hope this time... you can defeat your opponents within the stipulated time limit. Good luck."
As soon as the words ended, a coercive stream of magic power surged forward, roughly shoving all five of them falling straight down into the center position of the arena ring.
A premonition of danger erupted; Jeremy did not hesitate for half a second, immediately swinging his arm to summon his Holy Artifact.
Sure enough, before two breaths had passed, the surface of the arena ring suddenly twisted. Five humanoid puppets draped in pitch-black magic cloaks slowly emerged from the shadows. Their faces were obscured by a thick layer of black mist.
The realm of these five puppets perfectly matched their formation! One six-star, three five-stars, and one two-star.
The exact moment they finished taking form, all five machines immediately locked onto their targets and lunged forward to attack.
A streak of light tore through the wind, slashing straight for his throat. Jeremy narrowed his eyes, shifting his wrist, swinging his pair of twin blades up to clash harshly in defense, forcing the two-star puppet to fly backward.
He originally intended to borrow the opportunity to regain the initiative, but the puppet seemed to have read every calculation in his head. It completely ignored defense, frantically lunging forward to attack; the crisscrossing blade lights didn’t give Jeremy a single gap to catch his breath.
Every swing of the blade, every rhythm of movement brought an eerily familiar sensation.
The corner of Jeremy’s eyes darted quickly toward the other combat areas.
He only saw the single six-star puppet using an exquisite longbow as its weapon, continuously drawing the string taut to face Evelyn head-on. Phoenix’s opponent, on the other hand, used a staff, frantically casting forbidden summoning arts. Even the two puppets engaged in fierce combat with Leon and Lucius possessed similar Holy Artifact forms, exactly as if cast from the same mold.
Jeremy’s mind clicked immediately.
So that was it. These five puppets were actually clone bodies copied from themselves. From their magic power realm, innate abilities, down to their combat habits, everything was perfectly simulated on a one-to-one ratio.
Swish!
The puppet in front of him suddenly changed its weapon structure; the pair of twin blades merged in the blink of an eye, transforming into a death scythe. It bent its body to dodge Jeremy’s counterattack, then swung the scythe handle, slashing an arc aimed straight at his neck.
Death closed in. Jeremy withdrew his gaze; the pair of Crescent Blades in his hands immediately merged into one, elongating and transforming into the Fang of Abyss chain.
He swung his arm; the chain nimbly wrapped tightly around the handle of the incoming scythe. His masculine wrist, bulging with blue veins, jerked hard in an incredibly rough motion. Using the most violent combat method, he completely locked down the opponent’s weapon.
While the puppet was frantically twisting, Jeremy shortened the chain, borrowing its weight to hurl its physical body, smashing it hard against the boundary of the arena ring.
Not giving the puppet a chance to get back up, the chain in Jeremy’s hand immediately switched its form into a magical scepter. The entire body of the scepter was as pure white as a solid block of ice crystal, reigning at its tip was a brilliant ruby. Beneath his feet, a giant rose matrix bloomed.
Jeremy struck the tail of the scepter hard against the stone floor, his deep, cold voice ringing out sharply: "Rain of Thorns, descend."
As the incantation ended, droplets of magic power transformed into tens of thousands of ice thorns as sharp as razors, shrieking in the blink of an eye as they charged straight toward the puppet that was preparing to lunge forward.
During the days of surviving on the deserted island, Jeremy had not been lazy at all, but continuously tested and refined his magical conversion capabilities. Rain of Thorns was one of the skills with the shortest chanting time, yet possessed an incredibly terrifying wide-area damage coverage, and was also the ultimate technique he used most proficiently.
Seeing the clone body hindered by the rain of thorns, Jeremy did not stand idly by and watch. The scepter in his hand immediately transformed its structure into a longbow. He took a half-step back, his arm muscles tensing tightly, drawing the bow with his bare hands.
Bursting magic power condensed into five arrows dotted with rose petals. The moment his fingers released the string, all five arrows tore through the air, shooting straight toward the target.
As soon as the arrows left the bow, the rain of sharp thorns was still continuously pouring down. But the puppet suddenly erupted with all the high-intensity magic elements in its body, forcefully tearing through the defensive layer. Exactly like a phantom, it used extreme speed to dart through the rain, aiming its weapon straight to stab at Jeremy’s heart.
Jeremy did not expect it to escape the encirclement so easily. His eyes darkened; his patience began to hit rock bottom.
The longbow transformed once again, turning into a pitch-black scythe.
No bother dodging anymore. Change tactics. If long-range doesn’t work, then fight in close combat!
The two giant scythes clashed ferociously against each other, sparking a barrage of magic element sparks. Jeremy lowered his center of gravity; his flexible body arched his back backward, cleverly using the scythe handle to block the opponent’s sharp tip. Taking advantage of the puppet losing its momentum, he twisted his hips and unleashed a thunderous kick straight into its abdomen.
Unfortunately, the clone didn’t know what pain was. Being hit, it didn’t retreat, but on the contrary, borrowed the opportunity to close the distance.
Jeremy recognized its movement trajectory and hurriedly channeled force to retreat, but was still one beat too slow.
Slash!
The puppet’s scythe tore through the flesh on his left arm; even his abdominal area was grazed by the razor-sharp blade. The two terrifying wounds immediately bled; the deep red liquid slid down his skin, eventually dripping drop by drop onto the floor.
The pain spread throughout his body. Facing death and wounds, a normal person would instinctively choose to retreat into defense. However, on Jeremy’s face, bearing sharp handsome features at this moment, from some unknown point, it was drenched in a bizarrely frantic, euphoric excitement.
He smirked. Not retreating but advancing, darting forward with an even fiercer offensive stance.
Every single slash of the blade carried the ruthlessness, madness, and decisiveness of someone ready to break the cauldrons and sink the boats.
Because the combat amplitude was too large, fresh blood from his arm splashed up, splattering on his cheeks, sketching out a violently bewitching and wildly feral face.
The puppet had never encountered someone so crazy; it was forced to continuously retreat by the relentless barrage of attacks with almost no pauses. The black cloak was slashed to ribbons, and the body forged from magic power and spirit wood also exhibited countless deep scratches.
The moment a cold light erupted, the corner of Jeremy’s lips curled into a ruthless smile.
With the most savage decapitation posture, he used one hand to swing the blade, cleanly chopping off the head of the puppet in front of him.
The moment the head severed from the body, the clone crashed to the ground, turning into a pile of ashes.