Technology Has Its Place Too

Above the arena's dome.

A golden halo slowly revolved.

It was as though the Eye of Anubis watched over everything.

The air was thick with the mingled scent of spices and blood. The ground was paved with black basalt, every stone brick carved with ancient hieroglyphs that glimmered faintly.

At the center of the arena, Ian stood quietly. His black robes fluttered gently in the breeze, and he held a wand in his hand, yet his gaze was exceptionally calm. Looking around, he realized this was no ordinary trial ground—it was more like a vessel of time, an illusion sealed away by the gods, designed specifically to test intruders.

It could summon heroic spirits that had existed throughout history. Whether they had died or been reincarnated, the trial ground could always call them forth like projections of history.

Ian was reminded of a book he had read that described a similar supernatural ability. It did not summon the real person, but rather traces they had left behind in history.

They were certainly not as powerful as the real people, but they still possessed their bearing and abilities. Just as Ian surveyed his surroundings, Anubis's voice rang out again. He appeared upon the referee's platform, draped in a golden cloak, his face hidden behind a jackal-head mask that revealed only a pair of abyss-deep eyes.

"The first trial: challenge the heroic souls of history."

"The second trial: challenge an immortal like yourself among wizards."

"The third trial—challenge my will."

"Now, your first trial officially begins... Good luck, child." Anubis's voice echoed through the arena, low and solemn, like the hammer of judgment striking the soul. As his words fell, the pitch-black gate at the other end of the arena rose with a thunderous crash, heavy chains clattering loudly.

From the depths