"Mr. Whisper of Destruction, I have completed my advancement. I am now a level-twenty Legendary Combatant."
They were still in that vast room resembling a grand plaza, still beneath the magical lights that had not dimmed for ten thousand years, still facing the sinister figure whose face was mostly concealed beneath the shadows of a hood. Azterlan's voice was nearly deafening as he spoke to the spellcaster, and he spoke so quickly that his words seemed to outrun the speed of sound.
It was clear that the youth, who had only just completed his advancement and awakened from slumber, had not yet fully mastered his newly acquired power. His control over the details of his muscles was still imperfect, and he had not adapted to the Superluminal method of communication through mental power.
Just as a spellcaster's body was their most convenient staff, a Combatant's body was their toughest armor! However, because a Legendary Combatant's strength and constitution far surpassed those of a Legendary spellcaster at the same level, a Legendary Combatant often could not immediately control his body with perfect ease after advancing.
Punk understood Ganatica's awkward condition. Although the youthful avenger's advancement had lasted nearly a thousand years, for someone who had remained asleep throughout the process, those thousand years had passed in the blink of an eye. Such earthshaking new power always required two or three days to adapt to. Even Punk himself had relied on the experience in Archmage Wedraxia's memories to achieve "casting spells with ease immediately after advancing."
Therefore, even though Ganatica's voice boomed in front of him, his footsteps made the walls and floor rumble, and shockwaves rampaged through the corridors of the magic tower, Punk could only sigh helplessly in his heart before speaking sternly to the resolute youth:
"Remember the first