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The Arcane Mastery

As long as a stable spell model can be constructed, anyone can step into the realm of a mage! This is the ultimate secret of being a mage: magic is no longer bound by innate talent but can be mastered through logic and structure. Having crossed into this world as the son of nobility, inheriting his family’s magical lineage, and equipped with a super quantum computer from his previous life, every spell model now appears before him as if it were a simple puzzle. Complex spell structures and incantations are swiftly analyzed and reassembled, his computer seeming to breathe new meaning into the magic of this world, allowing him to effortlessly reach the heights of power that others spend their lives pursuing.

RX_Song · Fantasy
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266 Chs

Chapter 225: The Seventh Day!

Within the dry and chilling cavern lay numerous skeletons. These skeletal remains, draped in decayed mage robes, were scattered across the ground.

It was evident these individuals had perished long ago. Only spellcasters from the **Abyssal Fortress** attempting to cultivate the **Dark Heart** could enter the **Dark Maze**. Thus, the identities of these skeletons were no mystery—they were former Abyssal Fortress wizards who had entered the maze to train, but failed and became eternally trapped within.

**Crack!**

As Merlin lightly touched one skeleton, it crumbled instantly. Time had weathered the remains to such fragility that even a slight disturbance shattered them.

As Merlin moved deeper into the cave, he discovered more skeletons, some likely centuries old. Their bones were dry, brittle, and lifeless remnants of a bygone era. Yet despite the multitude of remains, not a single ring could be found on any of them.

In the **Dark Maze**, it was rare for anyone to enter except those undertaking the dangerous journey to master the **Dark Heart**. Merlin had initially hoped to stumble upon a "small fortune" by discovering rings or relics containing magical wealth. However, it was evident someone had already looted the area long ago. The most likely culprits were successful practitioners who had endured the maze's trials and completed their training.

With a self-deprecating smile, Merlin murmured, "As if I'd find treasure lying around so conveniently."

Despite the lack of rings, Merlin noticed something intriguing near some of the skeletons. In front of them, crude **Molta inscriptions** had been etched into the ground. Curious, Merlin knelt, brushed away the dust, and carefully read the inscriptions.

> "It's already the sixth day. I've endured six days, finally overcoming the illusions. But my **Stone of Clarity** is depleted. Now comes the hardest choice: Should I wait for the seventh day or attempt to master the second-tier **Dark Heart**?"

> "What a dilemma! The illusions for the first three days align with the first-tier **Dark Heart**. Days four through six correspond to the second tier. I've reached a point where I can easily succeed with the second tier… but I feel so reluctant to stop. The difference between the second and third tier **Dark Heart** is immense!"

> "No. To become the Abyssal Fortress's greatest prodigy, I must achieve the third-tier **Dark Heart**. As long as I survive the seventh day, it will be mine!"

The inscriptions ended there. The writer, now reduced to skeletal remains, had evidently failed to endure the seventh day's trials and succumbed to the **Dark Maze**, leaving nothing but a sad testament to their ambition.

Merlin frowned deeply after reading the text. The writings provided vital insights about the **Dark Maze**, shedding light on its segmented trials:

1. **Days 1–3**: Illusions were relatively weaker and corresponded to the first-tier **Dark Heart**.

2. **Days 4–6**: The intensity of illusions increased, aligning with the second tier.

3. **Day 7**: The strongest illusions emerged, required to achieve the third-tier **Dark Heart**, but they posed unparalleled danger.

No wonder Hobbes and the others had expressed veiled malice. They never shared this information, likely hoping Merlin would fail and become trapped forever.

"Even prodigies can fall to the seventh day," Merlin muttered, his mind abuzz with possibilities. The skeleton before him belonged to a wizard hailed as a genius who dared to aim for the third tier yet failed spectacularly.

But Merlin had something those before him lacked—a partially intact **Stone of Clarity**. Though it had shrunk to less than half its original size, it remained functional thanks to Merlin's sparing use. Unlike other wizards, who exhausted the stone during the first three days, Merlin relied on his unyielding faith to withstand the illusions.

"I'll attempt the seventh day. If the illusions are too strong, I can use the **Stone of Clarity** as a last resort."

Having made his decision, Merlin sat calmly in meditation, awaiting the arrival of the seventh day.

---

**Outside the Dark Maze**

"It's the seventh day, Leo. If Merlin doesn't emerge today, it's highly likely he's lost forever," Hobbes said with a smirk, his cold eyes glinting as he glanced at the ominous maze.

Though his words were laced with mockery, Hobbes exhaled a subtle sigh of relief. The seventh day's illusions were legendary, even among the most prodigious wizards in Abyssal Fortress's history. Survival rates were abysmal, even with the **Stone of Clarity**.

"The seventh day isn't over yet," Leo replied coolly, though the tense flickering of his **Blood-Eye** betrayed his concern.

---

**Inside the Maze**

"The seventh day has begun," Merlin muttered as his surroundings suddenly shifted. He now stood in a familiar chamber—the very room he had once called his own within the Wilson family manor in Blackwater City.

"How clever. It's recreating Blackwater City," Merlin mused, amused by the vivid replication.

He pushed open the door and was greeted by familiar faces. Lucy, the family maid, smiled warmly. Downstairs, his sister Snow was deep in conversation with the butler. Old Wilson, drenched in sweat from training, ordered another servant to prepare his bath.

It was a scene of serene domesticity—a slice of the life Merlin had left behind.

"How nostalgic," Merlin murmured, his voice tinged with bittersweet emotion. The illusion was so convincing that even his faith wavered momentarily.

"This is beautiful… but ultimately, it's a lie."

Merlin closed his eyes, focusing on his inner resolve. When he reopened them, the illusion remained.

"This illusion is stronger than anything before. Breaking it will take time," he admitted. Retrieving the **Stone of Clarity**, he allowed its aura to dispel the illusion. The warm domestic scene vanished, leaving behind the cold, desolate cave.

"Once more."

Merlin stowed the stone and reentered the illusion, confronting it anew with each attempt. Over and over, he tested his resolve, determined to break the illusion without aid. His faith grew stronger with each trial, and though the **Stone of Clarity** dwindled, his determination remained unshaken.

"Enough of this," Merlin declared after what felt like countless attempts. "Illusions are illusions, nothing more!"

With that final affirmation, Merlin's heart surged with indomitable resolve. Closing his eyes, he summoned the full force of his faith. When he opened them, the illusion had finally shattered.

"The seventh-day illusions were formidable, but I've overcome them. Now, I can cultivate the third-tier **Dark Heart**."

Merlin spent the next two days immersed in the training, systematically dismantling the challenges posed by the **Dark Heart's** illusions. By the end, he felt transformed, his connection to dark elements deepened profoundly. Even his **Dark Mist** and **Darklight Domain** spells had grown significantly stronger.

"It's time to leave."

Rising to his feet, Merlin prepared to exit the maze. Pausing briefly, he asked the **Matrix**, "How many days have I been in the Dark Maze?"

The answer stunned him.

"You are currently on the seventh day."

"Seventh day? Impossible! I've spent over two days training in the third-tier **Dark Heart**. How could it still be the seventh day?"

For a moment, Merlin stood frozen. The **Matrix** never erred, yet his memory seemed equally certain.

"Could it be…?"

Merlin's gaze darted around the cave. Though nothing seemed amiss, a cold sweat began to bead on his brow.

"Am I still trapped in an illusion?"