Final Life Online

Leaving Mia to face her Rank Trial, Rhys turned his focus forward.

Moonmist City had served him well, but it was already too small for his pace. Now that he'd broken into Rank 1, he needed a stage that could match his growth. His next destination loomed on the horizon—the City of Avaernus.

Unlike Moonmist, which thrived under veils of mist and moonlight, Avaernus pulsed with a brighter, sharper aura. Towers of white stone spiraled into the sky, etched with flowing runes that glowed faintly with arcane power. Floating orbs of condensed mana drifted through the streets like lanterns, casting prismatic lights on the sprawling plazas below.

If Moonmist was the city of dreamers and hidden scholars, then Avaernus was the citadel of mages. A place where spellcraft wasn't just studied but weaponized—where Rank 1 and beyond gathered, clashed, and honed their mastery.

Crossing through the great silver gates, Rhys felt the difference immediately. The air was thick with mana—so dense it made his veins hum and his sword pulse faintly in its sheath. Elemental magic rippled constantly around him as apprentices tested their spells in the open yards, while veterans conjured controlled storms high above the spires.

Here, monsters of Rank 1 tier and higher lurked in the surrounding wilderness, their presence woven into the city's economy and daily life. Avaernus was an genuine Rank 1 city.

Rhys smirked faintly as he adjusted his cloak.

"This… feels more like it."

He hadn't forgotten about Mia, nor her trial. But this was his path forward. A new city, a higher rank, and the perfect place to sharpen his blade before the real battles began.

The city buzzed with life. Merchants hawked enchanted scrolls, potions that pulsed with liquid light, and rare beast cores glowing faintly inside crystalline jars. Everywhere Rhys turned, he saw adventurers outfitted in gear far beyond what was common in Moonmist—robes etched with enchantments, blades whispering with elemental resonance, staffs crowned with living flame.

It was clear: this was no place for beginners.

As he walked, his [Eye of the Ancients] flickered on instinct, scanning faint traces of mana patterns. Dozens of powerful entities filled the streets—Rank 1 tamers, spellcasters, swordmasters, each commanding beasts or familiars that radiated dangerous presence. Puddle quivered faintly inside his cloak, quietly absorbing the mana-rich air like a sponge, clearly pleased.

Rhys's eyes landed on the towering building at the heart of Avaernus: the Grand Arcanum Spire. Its foundation was a massive rune circle, and its peak vanished into the clouded sky. That was where adventurers registered, took quests, and—more importantly—challenged the city's Ranking Board.

A faint grin tugged at his lips.

"If I'm going to make a name here, that's where I'll start."

Before he could step closer, a sharp crack of thunder split the sky. High above the spire, two mages clashed in midair, their spells colliding in bursts of fire and lightning. The shockwaves rippled through the city, scattering dust and shaking the ground.

Onlookers cheered, pointing at the duel. A ranking match, Rhys realized. The city wasn't just a hub of magic—it was a battlefield where strength decided everything.

He tightened his grip on Aether Vein, his spiritbound sword humming faintly as if eager to taste combat in this new arena.

"Good," Rhys muttered, eyes narrowing. "Time to get another cheat."

And with that, he strode toward the Grand Arcanum Spire, ready to participate in matches as well.

From the book he knew, he knew the history of Avaernus. The city had been founded by a battle-maniac mage—one who challenged anyone and everyone. His wager was always the same: all of his money against all of his opponent's.

Over his lifetime, he fought more than ten thousand matches… and never lost a single one.

As the years passed, challengers and spectators gathered, a city forming around his arena. Eventually, he grew old and died a natural death—but before he passed, he hid all of the fortune he had earned across the world.

One of those legendary stashes was said to lie here, within Avaernus. But for the past thousand years, no one had ever found it. The reason was simple—no one knew the true condition required to claim it.

You had to be a battle maniac too.

Rhys, thanks to the book he had read, knew the secret. And he was here to claim it.

He entered the Grand Arcanum Spire, the towering heart of the city, where battles were held day and night. The first floor was crowded with spectators and challengers, their eyes filled with hunger for glory.

Rhys walked up to the registry desk. A young woman sat behind the counter, dressed in silver robes that shimmered faintly with enchantments. She glanced at him, then frowned slightly.

"Registration is only open to mages," she said. "This is the Grand Arcanum Spire. If you can't cast magic, you'll have to leave."

Rhys's lips curled into a smirk. He lifted his hand, and a ripple of light magic flared from his palm, illuminating the desk.

Her eyes widened. "Ah… Light Magic? So you are eligible."

He nodded once. "Sign me in."

The Spire had its own battle ranking system. Every participant started as an Iron Fighter. Winning matches earned points; losing cost them points. Accumulate thirty points, and you advanced to Silver. Reach one hundred points, and you rose to Gold. A thousand points placed you among the elite—Platinum Masters.

But Rhys wasn't interested in climbing slowly.

His goal was to win two hundred matches in a row, without a single loss. That was the hidden condition—the proof of a true battle maniac. And only then would the path to the Avaernus stash open.

"You are registered," she said, handing him a small token. "Wear it on your shirt or outer robe. It serves as your proof and also tracks your points. Without it, you can't enter matches."

Rhys examined the token. It was a round medallion etched with faint runes, glowing softly with a zero at its center—his current score, since he had yet to win a single match.

He pressed it against his robes, and it snapped into place as if drawn by a magnet, locking seamlessly onto the fabric.

"Simple enough," he muttered.

"Through it you'll also be called for your matches," she added, nodding. "Your next one starts in half an hour."

"I'm in the Rank 1 section, right?" Rhys asked.

"Yes," she confirmed, "but if you reach Silver, you'll begin facing Rank 2 fighters as well."

Rhys gave a short nod and headed toward the resting area.

The chamber was wide and lined with benches, filled with mages waiting for their names to be called. Each wore mage outfits marked with their respective ranks and factions.

Rhys glanced at himself, realizing immediately how out of place he looked without mage robes. Drawing curious eyes wasn't something he wanted, so he sat to the side and opened the Auction menu, beginning to browse through the listings for mage equipment.

After a few minutes of scrolling, one particular set caught his eye.

The Ardent Scholar's Set.

Scholar's Hood: A deep midnight-blue hood embroidered with faint silver constellations. The fabric shimmered faintly under light, enhancing focus and reducing mana consumption.

Scholar's Robe: Flowing, rune-threaded robes layered with a silver-trimmed mantle. Its enchantments granted resistance to elemental backlash from failed spells.

Scholar's Gloves: Slim-fitting gloves etched with runic lines across the palms and fingertips, amplifying the precision of spellcasting.

Scholar's Boots: Lightweight, soft-soled boots that increased agility and reduced the sound of footsteps—perfect for both dueling and survival.

Scholar's Sigil Ring: A silver ring inset with a sapphire crystal. When worn, it stabilized mana flow and slightly boosted regeneration.

Scholar's Bracelet & Pendant: Twin accessories infused with protective wards, creating a faint barrier that absorbed minor damage before breaking.

And though most mages relied on staves, the set included a curious addition—

Scholar's Blade: A short ceremonial sword, its edge wrapped in layered enchantments. It wasn't meant for pure spellcasters, but for those who bridged sword and sorcery, it was invaluable.

Rhys smirked faintly.

A hybrid set. Perfect.

With a few quick taps, he purchased the full ensemble. The moment the items materialized, he slipped them on. The robes fit comfortably, their enchantments harmonizing with his mana flow, while the Scholar's Blade at his hip felt like a natural extension of his magic swordsman path.

When he stood, he no longer looked like an outsider. He looked like a mage—albeit one with sharper edges than the rest.

Rhys flicked open his Player Screen, eyes narrowing as glowing text scrolled before him. The system registered the full set, and with it, the bonuses unlocked.

[Ardent Scholar's Set Equipped – Full Bonus Activated]

2-Piece Bonus: Mana Efficiency – All spells consume 10% less mana.

4-Piece Bonus: Arcane Barrier – Upon taking damage, gain a temporary shield equal to 5% of max HP. Lasts 5 seconds. Cooldown: 60s.

6-Piece Bonus: Duality of Knowledge – Increases both Spell Damage (+15%) and Physical Damage (+10%) when wielding a sword-type weapon.

Full Set Bonus – Scholar's Legacy: Casting a spell immediately strengthens your next melee attack with arcane energy (+25% damage). Conversely, landing a melee attack reduces the cast time of your next spell by 20%.

Rhys exhaled slowly, a grin tugging at his lips.