Ten days.
For ten days, Arlon had fought nonstop.
The battlefield was unrecognizable now. What had once been a pristine, untouched floor was now a graveyard of monsters.
The bodies had long since vanished, absorbed by the Tower, but the lingering scent of blood and mana still clung to the air.
The last boss—the strongest one, Level 294—staggered back, its monstrous body barely holding itself together. It was massive, its deep crimson eyes flickering as if trying to stay alight.
Arlon could use the slow spell on the boss to make him so slow that it wouldn't seem like it was moving, but he didn't.
There were two reasons behind this. First, he didn't want to make this fight easy. He still needed to train, especially with the time magic.
But he wouldn't be able to do that back in Trion since almost everyone would be weaker than him.
At least, that was what he told himself.
The second reason he didn't use the slow spell was, and this was the real reason, he couldn't use it.
