Physical Test (2): Rhythm of No-Self
The moment the countdown ended.
―Whizz! A sharp whooshing sound pierced the air, and a silver flash flickered from far off.
An arrow?
I spotted the incoming arrow and twisted my body slightly. Much later than I'd registered it, a gleaming silver arrow grazed past. It was so slow, even the naked eye could track it clearly. The launch whoosh had been crisp, and the distance was plenty for a relaxed reaction.
Here comes another.
This time, it was an axe. Just like before, painfully slow and coming straight from the front—no blind spot or anything tricky. Dodging it would be weirder than not.
―Whoosh!
I tilted my head just a fraction. With that simple motion, the axe cleaved through empty air. No joke—this was so obvious even an ordinary elementary school kid could've sidestepped it.
Entering Stage 2.
Ten seconds.
I counted silently in my head. Ten seconds since the test began. Each stage took that long in phase one. Things would get a bit tougher now.
―Ping!
A slightly quieter whoosh than before. Still slow, still easy to dodge.
I felt a twinge of boredom as I thought, They said it ramps up sharply every ten stages? Average players hit around stage 30...
―Scree!
...At least stage 60 before it gets interesting. No skip function? Starting from stage one every time would be such a drag.
Whether a skip existed or not, it wouldn't unlock on the first try anyway.
Meanwhile, time ticked on, and soon a translucent message appeared in my vision.
Entering Stage 3.
Hmm.
But no real difference this time either. I barely moved from my spot, twisting only my upper body to evade most attacks.
A minute flew by in a flash.
Entering Stage 10.
The notification for stage 10 popped up right away.
―Pfft!
I immediately snapped my head back. A silver arrow pierced the spot where my temple had been a second ago. Definitely faster—tangible now.
But...
I reached out toward the spear hurtling straight at me, snatched its shaft mid-flight, spun it around, and deflected two arrows into the air.
Still slow.
Even by normal standards, not just mine. Only stage 10, after all. But I got the point—difficulty spiked every ten stages. At this rate, stage 30 made sense as the average.
―Shh...
Then the spear in my hand crumbled to dust and scattered into the air. I nodded as I watched.
I see.
Could only use incoming weapons for defense once? Or maybe a time limit from the moment I grabbed it. Either way, the key was it worked at all. Useful later when things ramped up.
And just like that.
Entering Stage 11.
As I filed away the new info, another notification appeared.
Fifteen seconds.
Stage 10's duration. Five seconds longer than stages 1-9. Probably increased a bit every ten stages. Another reason the Physical Test was so grueling.
Human mental stamina was finite. The longer the focus, the more it wore down—especially in extreme situations. Even in fiction, tension burned through concentration several times faster. And that drop-off led straight to mistakes.
―Scree!
I kept dodging, dodging, dodging the barrage of weapons aimed my way.
Haha...
A faint smile crept across my lips as I sorted my thoughts. Reading the environment, gathering intel, life-threatening weapons flying from all sides—this moment was starting to feel fun.
Roughly five minutes later.
Entering Stage 30.
The system chime blared, and the ground suddenly shook like an earthquake. As I steadied my stance on the trembling earth, arrows shot out as if exploiting the moment—aimed at my head, heart, ankles. Vital spots only.
I flung myself sideways to evade, only for spears to rain from above. I planted one hand on the ground and flipped into the air. Five spears stabbed upright where I'd stood, like tombstones.
―Whoosh!
I dropped low to dodge an incoming axe, yanked a spear from the ground, hooked the ring of a scythe hurtling toward me on its shaft, and hurled it back.
―Clang!
My thrown scythe collided with other weapons mid-air and ricocheted away.
Hmm.
Balancing on the quaking ground, I pondered. So now it's not just weapons—patterns like this too? Trickier than expected.
Just shaking for now, but higher difficulties might bring wilder patterns. First try, unknowns could be dangerous.
...Not that I'll fail.
Dying to this would cheapen my title of Sword Saint.
Entering Stage 37.
As I glanced at the message in my peripheral vision and shifted to dodge arrows, the ground seemed to cave beneath me—a spear thrusting up from below. Classic pit trap. Instinct would've saved me, but ignoring it would've skewered my head.
Still, patterns like this had tells. Pre-sensing and dodging wasn't hard.
Entering Stage 45.
The ground collapsed in an instant. Solid floor gave way, revealing an endless void below. A peek down showed no bottom in sight. Falling meant game over, obviously.
This...
I paused, scanning around. The pure white world had become a black-and-white checkerboard. Black tiles crumbled underfoot, so white ones only. Even then, spears erupted from some whites—couldn't relax.
Traps were gaining weight now.
Entering Stage 50.
The notification caught my eye, and I perked up briefly. Halfway at last.
Midpoint of the 100-stage Physical Test. Top 1% of players reached here. Still plenty of leeway, but I dialed up my focus a notch. Spikes every ten stages meant new patterns likely.
And then.
―Flash.
A chill raced up my spine the instant—
―Krarrrumble!!
Lightning crashed from a cloudless sky. The struck tile charred black, turning into a black tile. No need to test—I knew it'd crumble like the rest.
Damn...
Safe space narrowed fast. Stages 57, 58, 59. Each bolt expanded black areas. Flames once scorched a wide swath too. White tiles dwindled.
By stage 59, barely room for a few steps.
Entering Stage 60.
―Thud-boom!
The last white tile vanished, launching me airborne.
Now it begins.
I flipped mid-air with nowhere to stand. Stage 60—the community benchmark for rankers, the threshold for a capsule gift from game admin 'Moira.' Difficulty would skyrocket now.
―Pfft!
A tiny dagger whistled faintly. I twisted my upper body with all my might. It grazed my skin by a hair's breadth.
Tch.
I clicked my tongue lightly. Human limits meant restricted aerial movement. Aura could've let me step on air, but not now. Had to improvise.
Entering Stage 64.
Awkward mid-air, dodging a storm of weapons. I reflected: Not my first aerial rodeo—plenty of experience, actually. But always with aura. Stepping on air, soaring like a bird.
This—pure human body evading traps in freefall—was new even for me.
Kind of fun?
Especially the novelty: body not obeying like always. Imagination and reality mismatched for once. Forcing it to dodge anyway? Another thrill.
Entering Stage 70.
So when my feet hit solid ground at stage 70, I couldn't hide a flicker of disappointment. Would've preferred more air time.
Stage 70 brought more patterns, faster attacks, tighter spacing, more volleys—but it bored me instead.
Entering Stage 76.
Swords from blind spots, lightning from the sky, silent arrows, rising spears, thunderous flails—all swarming one human. The world felt like a prison of blades, no escape in sight. Every element, even invisible air, brimmed with murderous intent.
Yet.
Right side.
I danced through it all—attacks, traps, patterns—like a waltz.
―Crunch!
―Whoosh!
―Krarumble!
Senses sharpened to a razor's edge. In a world where everything was enemy, my mind cleared, crystalline. Long-dormant sixth sense uncoiled fully, battle-honed from ages past.
Doesn't touch.
No danger at all. Like I wandered a different timeline alone...
In No-Self, time crawled for the immersed. World and I detached; countless traps sliced only air, never skin.
In the slowed world.
I alone strolled eternity.
Entering Stage 80.
That instant.
As the difficulty spike notification blared—
Eh?
My vision plunged into darkness.