The next day—the final day of Travis’s challenge—he woke up early, his determination sharper than ever. Today, he was ready to face the Mage. Overnight, he had unlocked a new skill called Absorb, one that might tip the scales in his favor. With that in mind, he got out of bed and splashed cold water on his face. As the droplets trickled down, he caught his reflection in the mirror.


    "If I looked like this before… maybe I wouldn''t have been bullied," he thought, his lips curving into a faint, bitter smile. His once frail frame was now defined, his eyes carrying a newfound intensity. But this wasn''t the time to dwell on the past. He shook his head, slapped his cheeks lightly to snap himself into focus, and gave his reflection a final, resolute nod before leaving the room.


    The hallway leading to the arena was eerily quiet, save for the muffled buzz of the crowd in the distance. As Travis walked, he found his thoughts drifting. How powerful could a Mage really be? He clenched his fists, excitement and uncertainty mingling in his chest. This world still baffled him, its rules and mysteries lurking just beyond his grasp. But that only fueled his resolve—he would uncover the truth, no matter what it took.


    Suddenly, a strange sensation gripped his stomach. He froze mid-step, clutching at his abdomen. It wasn’t pain, but an unsettling pull, as though something was draining his mana. His breath quickened as he glanced around, but the hallway was empty. Just as quickly as the sensation came, it faded. Shaking it off, he steadied himself and pressed forward. Whatever it was, he couldn’t let it distract him.


    The arena roared to life as Travis stepped onto the battlefield. The cheers from the stands were deafening, and for a brief moment, a grin spread across his face. He waved at the crowd, their energy fueling his confidence. But his focus shifted quickly to his opponent—a man dressed in flowing robes, holding an ornate staff that practically screamed "wizard." With his long hair tied back and an air of practiced calm, the Mage looked like he had walked straight out of a fantasy novel.


    "Alright," Travis muttered under his breath, rolling his shoulders. "Let’s get this over with. I’m not in the mood for theatrics."


    The Mage smirked, raising his staff, and the air around him shimmered faintly with mana. Travis narrowed his eyes, his own energy surging in response. This wasn’t going to be an easy fight, but that was fine. He wasn’t here for easy.


    As the countdown began, an invisible force slammed into Travis like a tidal wave, the sensation ripping through his entire body. It wasn’t just disorienting—it was devastating. His mana felt like it was being siphoned away, drained from every corner of his being. His knees buckled under the pressure, and a cold sweat broke out across his skin.


    His vision blurred as nausea surged, twisting his stomach into knots. He clutched his chest, gasping for air, but the world around him spun uncontrollably. Then, a sharp dizziness overwhelmed him, and he crumpled to the ground.


    Foam began to bubble from his mouth, a stark white against his pale lips. His body convulsed briefly, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, before going eerily still. The roaring crowd fell silent, their cheers morphing into uneasy murmurs.


    The announcer’s voice, once booming with energy, now felt distant, like it was coming from underwater. Each word grew fainter until it dissolved into nothingness. Darkness crept in from the edges of Travis’s vision, swallowing the arena, the Mage, and the world itself.


    ....


    Many hours later, Travis stirred awake in a pitch-black room, the faint metallic clink of chains greeting his ears as he shifted. His head pounded, and his limbs felt leaden. His heart raced as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, revealing the cold, damp walls surrounding him. Looking down, he saw heavy chains binding his wrists and ankles, their links glowing faintly with a strange, pulsing energy.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    His jaw tightened as he pulled against them, but the harder he struggled, the more the chains constricted, biting into his skin. A searing pain radiated from the restraints, forcing him to stop and catch his breath.


    "Fuck!" he hissed under his breath, slamming his head back against the wall. "Svelte. I knew he’d never let me leave this fucking place."


    As if summoned by his thoughts, a door creaked open, flooding the room with dim, flickering torchlight. Svelte stepped inside, his silhouette framed by the doorway, his smirk dripping with malice. He moved with an unsettling ease, his eyes gleaming as they locked onto Travis.


    “Well, I see you’re awake,” Svelte said, his voice oily with amusement. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out why you’re here. You see, I never had any intention of letting you leave. Funny, isn’t it? The very thing that killed your master… is the same thing that’s brought you to your knees.”


    He leaned closer, pulling a small, black, writhing sphere from his pocket. It pulsed in his hand, shifting like it was alive. Travis’s stomach turned as the object moved unnaturally, its surface slick and leech-like. Svelte held it mere inches from Travis’s face, watching him flinch.


    “This,” Svelte said, his grin widening, “is a Mana Sucker. My new favorite tool for breaking even the strongest. It’s ingenious, really. It’s trying to burrow into you, to drain you dry, but I’ll spare you the agony… for now.” He chuckled, pulling the sphere away as it wiggled with a hunger that made Travis’s skin crawl.


    “Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t go down sooner,” Svelte continued, pacing slowly. “Tough-headed, just like your dear master, Xavier. He was a real challenge, you know. Too powerful for any of us to fight him head-on. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve left this place with a snap of his fingers. That’s the kind of strength we’re after… and it’s the kind of strength I’ll get from you.”


    Svelte crouched in front of Travis, his tone dropping to a sinister whisper. “But unlike Xavier, you’ll obey. I’ve already implanted five Mana Suckers inside you. With one word, they’ll drain every ounce of mana from your body. So, you’ll do exactly as I say… won’t you?”


    Travis glared at him, his breathing ragged, but he said nothing. Svelte smirked, straightening up. “Good boy,” he said mockingly. “Sit tight. I’ll be back soon… with a brand-new story for you. One where you’ll be the perfect little gladiator.” He laughed, the sound echoing cruelly as he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.


    The silence that followed was suffocating. Travis stared at the chains, his fists clenching until his nails dug into his palms. Defeat hung heavy over him. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow: there was no escape. Not for him. Not for anyone.


    But deep in the pit of his despair, something stirred—a flicker of defiance that refused to die, no matter how tightly it was chained.


    He then got an idea.


    Travis closed his eyes and steadied his breath, feeling the chains digging into his wrists. He focused on the mana within him, the energy still faint but present. Instead of resisting the Mana Suckers, he decided to do the opposite—push his mana into them willingly.


    If they’re draining me, they must have a limit, he thought, his brows furrowing in concentration. Let’s find out what happens when they reach it.


    With gritted teeth, he began fluctuating his mana, pumping it into the parasitic Mana Suckers embedded in his body. The sensation was sickening, like pouring his life force into a bottomless pit, but he pressed on. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, dripping down his face as minutes turned into an agonizing eternity.


    Then, it happened. One by one, he felt them swell beyond capacity, their grip loosening as they reached their breaking point. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through him, followed by a violent lurch in his stomach. He gagged, doubling over as the Mana Suckers shot up his throat.


    With a wet, grotesque sound, he vomited them onto the cold floor. They wriggled weakly, their black, leech-like bodies now lifeless. Travis wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, glaring at the disgusting remnants.


    “Fuck, that’s disgusting,” he muttered, staggering to his feet. “Well, time to leave this place.”


    Closing his eyes again, he visualized the room he wanted to be in. The memory was hazy, but he clung to it, focusing every ounce of his energy on the image. The sensation of displacement hit him like a gust of wind, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished.


    When he reappeared, Travis stumbled forward, his head spinning. He looked around, taking in the familiar, albeit blurry, surroundings. His lips curled into a smirk.


    “Shift,” he muttered, swaying slightly, “is definitely going to be my new favorite skill.” But when he glanced down, his smirk faltered. He was completely naked.


    “Yeah… I’m definitely not done learning it,” he grumbled, quickly scanning the room for something to wear. He found a simple tunic and trousers tossed on a nearby chair, slipping them on hastily before heading for the door.


    Stepping out, Travis squinted at his surroundings. The place was unfamiliar—dimly lit corridors lined with cracked stone walls, the air heavy with dampness and decay. He didn’t recognize it, but it didn’t matter.


    Without hesitation, he broke into a run, his footsteps echoing down the hallways. He didn’t have a plan or a destination—only the burning desire to get as far away from this cursed place as possible.


    TO BE CONTINUED