After a hundred thousand years apart, Kane's class level had reached the astonishing height of fifty-five. To be honest, before meeting Punk, he had been quite proud of his progress. After all, as a warrior, his rate of advancement was no slower than that of any renowned genius from any era in the Multiverse, and level fifty-five undoubtedly represented extremely elite high-end power.
Yet even though he had prepared himself for the worst, the helpless mad knight still froze slightly when he sensed the projection of a certain monstrous spellcaster...
Was this some curse cast by an unknown existence? It had to be a curse, right? Nearly four hundred thousand years had passed since that first journey as an apprentice, and the little knight of old had become a Bright Moon powerhouse who could shake the world. But why... why was Kane still being firmly held one level below his most detested "archrival"?
And this suppression was far too steady, wasn't it? It was like a millstone crushing dough—utterly stable and unshakable!
One second, the "Instant Kill Spear" had been proud of his advancement speed; the next, he no longer wanted to say anything. For one brief moment, he even found his fifty-five class levels utterly meaningless. After all, for a true "genius," repeatedly tasting failure was anything but pleasant. And in the Multiverse, the only one capable of making a genius like Kane feel frustrated time and again was probably that eternally expressionless "Whisper of Destruction."
Of course, the mad knight had always been a rational and powerful warrior. Although those of the Chaotic Evil alignment inevitably tended to be a little unreliable, when the moment truly mattered, he still knew how to distinguish priorities.
So, despite feeling deeply helpless over the matter of levels while standing on the