For a moment, the air in the Colosseum seemed to freeze.
The second trial had just ended. The aftershocks of magic lingered in the air, and the dust had yet to settle and the embers to fade. Ian stood on the scorched earth, his silver-white magical armor still fitting tightly to his body. He clenched his wand firmly in his hand, his gaze calm and unwavering.
Anubis stood on the referee's platform. The God of Death's golden cloak fluttered gently in an invisible wind. His voice was low and solemn.
"The second trial is over. You have defeated one of the greatest wizards of ancient Egypt."
He paused. His eyes were as deep as an abyss.
"Next is the third trial. Challenge my will."
But before he could finish, Ian smiled faintly. His tone was relaxed yet carried an unquestionable determination.
"No, I want to challenge you directly."
The moment those words left his mouth, the entire Colosseum seemed to freeze. In the stands, the "phantom spectators" who had supported Heka-Ur erupted into furious boos.
"He's insane! He's gone mad!"
"He dares to challenge the God of Death?"
"Who does he think he is? A god?"
Meanwhile, Ian's "virtual spectators" burst into thunderous cheers.
"Ian! Ian! Ian!"
"He challenges all rules!"
"He defies fate!"
"He's going to fight the God of War!"
Anubis remained where he stood. Beneath his jackal mask, his eyes narrowed slightly. He did not respond at once, but instead silently observed Ian as though examining a soul about to step into the abyss.
Silence spread between them. Even the Wailing Soul spectators forgot to breathe. The entire Colosseum fell into an eerie stillness.
After a long while, the God of Death finally spoke.
"Your courage is commendable."
His voice remained calm, though a faint trace of approval could be heard.
"But to challenge me, the wager will be the destination of your soul after death."
Ian let out a light chuckle. His silver-gray right eye shimmered with confidence.
"There's no need to think that far ahead."
He lifted his wand and tapped his temple lightly.
"I don't need to think about that. I only win. I never lose."
This was Ian's invincible heart. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unshakable conviction. Anubis fell silent for a moment, as though weighing something. Then he slowly nodded, letting out a soft, admiring sigh.
"So be it." He raised his scepter and gave it a gentle wave.
The structure of the Colosseum began to change violently.
The enclosed space expanded rapidly. The walls retreated as if they were living creatures, and the ground stretched endlessly as if the arena itself were making room for this unprecedented duel.
The earth split open, revealing ancient magical arrays. Golden runes interwove in the air as though the entire space were being reforged.
Rumble...!
The Colosseum shook violently. The obsidian ground writhed and extended like a living being. The surrounding walls rose higher and higher until they disappeared into the distant horizon.
The once-limited battlefield had transformed into an endless desert. In the distance, faint pyramids could be seen. The sky was shrouded in heavy clouds, and lightning occasionally tore across the heavens, illuminating this world of death.
It was clear now; the Colosseum was no longer merely an arena. It had become a separate, independent world. With Anubis's spellcasting, the original "phantom spectators" also changed.
The Wailing Souls, once illusory, materialized into soul warriors under Anubis's command. Clad in ancient armor and wielding bronze weapons, they had solemn faces, and ghostly green flames flickered in their eyes. A dense legion of the undead filled the horizon, a murderous aura surging forth.
These were no ordinary souls lingering in the Underworld.
They were fragments of Anubis's own power.
In contrast, Ian's virtual spectators seemed pitifully small, occupying only a tiny portion of the desert.
"Tch. Home-field advantage, huh?" Ian clicked his tongue and waved his wand.
"Fictus Spectatores Maxima!" (Phantom Spectators · Ultimate Version).
A silver-white light burst from the tip of his wand, instantly covering the entire spectator area.
The next second, countless new "virtual spectators" appeared out of thin air. They wore modern wizard robes and had magical cameras in hand, with glasses perched on their noses. Some young wizards even waved glowing light sticks.
Silver-gray magical power surged like a tide. Within moments, the other half of the desert was filled with spectators.
They were no longer just humanoid figures. Strange creatures appeared as well: flying jack-o'-lanterns, skeletons riding broomsticks, and several fire-breathing mechanical ancient dragons circling the skies. Their roars were deafening.
They stood in unison and shouted,
"Ian! Ian! Ian!"
"Hogwarts' genius wizard!"
"Potions master! Alchemist!"
"He changes the world with magic!"
Even the ancient dragons roared in their own language. It's worth mentioning that Ian's linguistic achievements were extraordinary, he had mastered not only human languages but also those of other species.
Because of that, his magic could produce such astonishing results. If an academic failure had attempted this spell, they would never have been able to create such realistic virtual spectators.
After all, the upper limit of magic is the wizard's limit.
And so is its lower limit. Seeing this spectacle, Anubis's jackal mask twitched slightly, and his brow furrowed faintly.
"Wasting magical power on such things is unnecessary."
The benevolent god of death was offering Ian a reminder, hoping he would not indulge in vanity.
Ian shrugged.
"I've got plenty of magical power. I'm not worried."
He was at an age brimming with vanity, how could he not enjoy it?
Anubis stepped toward the center of the Colosseum. With each step, the sand beneath his feet transformed into obsidian. His figure gradually grew taller until he reached three meters in height. Golden divine patterns flowed across his skin, and an aura of death pressed down on the entire space like a tangible force.
He raised a hand and gestured toward the surrounding undead spectators.
"For many years, countless have challenged me," the god of death said calmly and coldly. "Without exception, they all remained here."
The undead warriors growled in unison, their voices sounding like the wailing of thousands of tormented souls.
Ian swept his gaze across them, priests clad in pharaonic garb, warriors wearing Greek armor, and several black-robed wizards. Their eyes were filled with resentment and unwillingness.
Yet, despite their unwillingness, they could only be controlled by Anubis.
"These people…" Ian's eyes darkened slightly. "Are they all challengers who failed?"
Anubis nodded calmly.
"Every challenger remains here."
That was why they were no longer mere spectators but witnesses.
He pointed at the souls.
"Their wills have been absorbed. Their souls have been sealed. Are you certain you wish to become one of them?"
Anubis warned him once more, clearly urging him to reconsider. Ian's lips curved upward. His gaze was steady and unwavering.
"I won't become one of them.
"I will become the only exception."
His words were arrogant. Anubis looked at him for a long time without speaking.
In the end, he slowly nodded.
"Then you have made your decision."
The god of death said no more.
"So be it."
As Anubis stepped into the Colosseum, the entire space trembled.
He was no longer the referee; he was now a participant.
He slowly raised his hand. His golden cloak fluttered in an invisible wind. Beneath his jackal mask, his deep-set eyes shimmered with divine light.
"My power is endless. Life and death, the endless cycle."
As he spoke, a massive black scepter emerged from the void...
The Staff of Ankh.
A gem burning with ghostly blue flames sat at the top of the staff. The shaft was wrapped in countless fine chains, and from each chain hung a miniature soul.
They wailed soundlessly.
At the same time, a heavy bronze tome appeared in his other hand.
The Holy Canon of the Dead.
Its pages flipped on their own, and countless incantations flew out and circled around him.
"Ian Kent, you challenge me."
"The wager is the destination of your soul."
"Are you certain you wish to begin?"
Ian stood opposite him, his wand gripped tightly and his magical armor fitted snugly against his body. His eyes showed unwavering resolve.
"I'm certain and I won't lose."
Anubis looked at him, a trace of complicated emotion flashing through his gaze.
Finally, he nodded slowly.
"Then the match begins."
The Colosseum trembled again. Sandstorms roared as magic and divine power intertwined. The entire space seemed to await this unprecedented clash.
Ian's wand was already in hand. His pouch hung slightly open, ready for him to draw out alchemical items at any moment.
One man. One god.
One battle to decide life or death.
The fight was about to begin. Anubis made the first move. He didn't swing his staff or chant a spell. He simply stepped forward.
"You shall die."
It was the purest declaration of death, the most direct negation of life by the ruler of the underworld.
His words became law. The power of rule descended instantly. The air around Ian solidified into black shackles. Patterns of death spread across his skin, seeking to drag him into eternal slumber.
In the stands, countless undead warriors growled in unison, offering reverent praise to the god of death.
But Ian smiled.
"Death?" He raised his hand, his silver-gray eye blazing with brilliance. "Sorry. That concept doesn't apply to me."
"Paradox Anima!" (Soul of Paradox).
His existence blurred. The boundary between life and death twisted around him.
The death markings melted upon touching his skin because he existed in a superposed state of being both "alive" and "already dead." Logically, Anubis's declaration of death failed.
The God of Death's golden pupils narrowed slightly.
"The power of divine law..."
He could not identify this artificial god-authority, yet he could sense its strength.
Anubis struck his staff against the ground. The desert collapsed into surging waters... the River Styx.
This was no ordinary river. It was liquid condensed from the memories of the deceased. Each drop weighed a thousand tons and could corrode the soul.
The waters roared toward Ian, only to freeze mid-surge, just before reaching him.
"Time is interesting, isn't it?" Ian lightly tapped the water with his wand. "Especially when it...runs backward."
"Tempus inversus!" (Time Reversal).
Paradox power fused into his magic. Against all reason, the River Styx began to flow backward. Waves returned to the riverbed. The dry riverbed was exposed.
Even more terrifying, the bones submerged in the river began to "revive."
They reversed the process of death.
From skeletons to corpses.
From corpses to the dying.
From the dying, to fully living beings breaking free from the Underworld.
"What a heretical power! If you ascended to godhood, you would likely become a god-king."
Anubis's expression finally turned solemn. He raised the Staff of Ankh high, and ghostly blue flames surged forth.
"Duat Restitutio!" (Restoration of the Underworld).
The reversed time was forcibly corrected. The resurrected souls reverted to bones once more. But at the instant the rules reset, Ian suddenly appeared behind the god of death, wand pointed at his back.
"Entropia Borea! (Absolute Zero of Entropy)."
An aura of absolute zero, silver-white and freezing, exploded outward.
Frost crystallized across Anubis's black robe.
The next second, his body dissolved into countless scarabs that scattered into the wind before reforming a hundred meters away.
The god of death opened the Holy Canon of the Dead. A page engraved with golden scales tore free.
The scales expanded to a height of a hundred meters.
On one side rested a feather. On the other side, Ian's phantom appeared.
"Weigh your soul."
This was the most fundamental law of judgment. No existence could escape it. Ian's phantom began to manifest physically. Fragments of memory were extracted...
The corridors of Hogwarts, an explosion in an alchemy laboratory. His confrontation with Zeus.
Each memory became a weight placed upon the scales.
The spectators held their breath. If the feather proved lighter than his memories, his soul would be condemned to the Underworld.
Suddenly, Ian reached toward his temple and tore out a shimmering silver strand of memory.
"You're weighing this?" he said with a sly smile. "Then you'd better ask if it agrees."
The power of paradox activated again.
The memory multiplied into countless contradictory versions.
In Memory A, he died at age three. In Memory B, he was never born. In Memory C, he had already become a god.
The scales shook violently. The judgment rule collapsed under the weight of logical chaos.
Uncertainty, Schrödinger-like, was used to dismantle the opponent's law.
"An impossible power..."
Finally, Anubis released his divine domain. A thousand-meter radius centered on him instantly transformed into the Egyptian afterlife.
The Eye of Horus appeared in the sky. Sacred, molten gold flowed across the earth. Countless mummies crawled from the sands, chanting passages from the Book of the Dead.
This was the absolute domain of death. Any living being would rot instantly.
Ian spread his arms.
A silver-gray light spiraled counterclockwise.
"Logos Apophis! (Chaos Logic).
His divine domain was entirely different, a realm manifested from countless paradoxes. Where the two domains collided, blinding lightning erupted. The clash of rules tore spiderweb-like cracks through space itself.
The undead spectators watched in terror as their bodies flickered between existence and nonexistence.
At the peak of the confrontation, Anubis suddenly lowered his staff. The divine domains receded like a falling tide. The desert returned to stillness.
"Enough."
For the first time, the god of death's voice sounded fatigued.
"If we continue, the Underworld will collapse."
Ian lowered his wand. The silver-gray light in his right eye dimmed.
"So?"
Anubis removed the oar of the River Styx from his waist and threw it toward Ian.
"You have proven that one who can command rules can also command sin."
In mid-flight, the oar shrank to the size of a dagger and fell neatly into Ian's pouch. The audience erupted in disbelief. The failed challengers among the Wailing Souls shrieked in resentment.
Anubis cast one final look at Ian.
"Your power does not belong to you. That is what makes it most terrifying."
His vision was indeed sharp.
As the obsidian ground trembled, the trial arena began to collapse.
Ian understood it was a dismissal. He touched the oar in his pouch and responded softly.
"Yes, my power is plunder." He had spoken the essence of his legendary nature.
(End of Chapter)
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