Chapter 193: Tan Han Has Fainted
After repeated challenges, perhaps due to learning from the first failure, or maybe because she disregarded the outcomes of her failures, when Tan Han faced her second and even third losses, the significance of failure diminished for her.
Perhaps it was letting go or perhaps a realization, without the interference of winning or losing, what remained was the pure process of combat. Without the fear of making mistakes, her powerful spells could be cast without hesitation.
The failure in the first match had taught her that simply wanting to win as the ultimate goal would not only result in defeat but would also not yield a rewarding battle experience.
This was a one-on-one duel, an honing of spell usage. Combat was never about one brash fighter battling another; the power in hand was merely a means to victory. The clash of strength was a competition between two, not a true comparison of who was stronger.
Spells were never limited to mere energy manipulation; transformation, summoning, binding spells, five-senses weakening, curses, hypnosis, illusions, and telekinesis were all magical effects that were far more effective in a duel than raw power alone.
Now, my battle with Tan Han had even returned to the basics of spellbooks.
After experiencing the high-cost spellbooks during the most intense moments of combat, I learned that the convenience brought by absolute power often led the fight into prolonged exchanges and exhaustion.
Whether it was transformation spells battling other transformation spells, summoning spells against transformation spells, or high-tier energy manipulation spells against others, overwhelming power did not create a gap; it merely flattened the fluctuating differences, and in the end, defeated by the spell effects.
Tan Han also realized one thing: the opponent’s Spirit Vision severely countered her spells. It felt as if all her transformation spells, summoning spells, and other effects were entirely defenseless against it; this was the insurmountable wall for her.
From my perspective, Tan Han’s growth was terrifying. First, one must understand a premise: Tan Han’s Spirit Vision was at the second level, which couldn’t discern the internal structure of a spellbook created with real editing techniques.
However, after thoroughly understanding the basic structure of the Fireball Spell spellbook, she could now “micro-alter” it while using the Fireball Spell—a pure understanding of the spellbook’s application and the overarching effects based on her own situation, all achieved without the aid of Spirit Vision.
This micro-alteration contrasted sharply with my magical modifications, akin to the difference between metaphysics and science in two distinct domains.
Even though this Fireball Spell had only slightly enhanced power, shortened intervals, and increased fixed consumption limits, as well as a slight curvature correction in its flight trajectory, it seemed of little use and could hardly be compared to my current self. Yet, for Tan Han, it was a significant improvement, greater in symbolic meaning than in practical worth, representing a path she had explored on her own.
She had independently found a way to “modify” a spellbook! At this time, I recalled what Teacher Ji had said earlier, though I might have forgotten some details.
But the general idea remained: there’s no absolute correctness in exploring the extraordinary; any path that can assist in exploration is viable.
Thinking about it this way, perhaps exploring the extraordinary through metaphysics wasn’t impossible after all, was it?
“It seems you’ve reached your limit again,” I said.
At that moment, several spheres of mixed extraordinary energy floated around my body, obediently orbiting me while glaring at Tan Han.
At this moment, in my gaze towards Tan Han, a hint of “living application of spells” shone through. The clusters of spell effects behind me were the final results of my inspiration during battle, now modified through my experiences.
Though it was regrettable that my inspiration had only sparked this once throughout the entire battle so far, it was a remarkable peak.
I called this spark of inspiration the “Floating Series,” a concept born from combining the electricity of the Lightning Spell with the idea of “floating artillery”—a controllable, following magical effect unit that could autonomously engage in combat.
This description might seem convoluted; in essence, it was an optimization of that indiscriminate killing effect from the Lightning Spell to make it controllable, capable of identifying allies and enemies under my command, optimized to a level the spellbook could handle. Though this increased consumption and slightly reduced damage, it resulted in a far more terrifying suppression of firepower.
After all, who could refuse an automatic spell-launching device? As long as mental energy provided even a simple target identification command, one could effortlessly maneuver the spell effects.
With the first energy manipulation spell, the Lightning Spell undergoing this magical alteration—since I had accomplished something similar before—I chose it as the first experimental subject.
Following that, the basic energy manipulation spells had a point of reference. Now, if I opened fire with full power, I could have five suppressive artillery units. Of course, the price was excessive consumption.
But it was because of my modifications, witnessed time and again by Tan Han during the battles.
For Tan Han, this was like watching her opponent improve while she remained stuck, wondering how to break through; the disparity was immense, and such pressure brought her terrifying motivation.
She also understood the meaning of such prolonged battles.
She comprehended why I repeatedly agreed to duel her—not because I enjoyed the atmosphere of combat or sought to sharpen my skills, but because combat allowed the opponent to continually enhance themselves.
When she realized this concept, Tan Han was under heavy pressure from me because she had sunk into her confusion about why she fought. Was her pursuit being suppressed or denied by herself?
It wasn’t until Tan Han counterattacked and used the Fireball Spell that she truly understood herself.
After that, she faced even greater pressure from me, but her application of the Fireball Spell was rapidly improving. Even if this speed seemed slow to me, with each skirmish I could see her progress and growth, which was terrifying.
I needed battle to trigger inspiration for self-improvement, while Tan Han steadily enhanced herself through incessant training. It couldn’t be judged who was superior or inferior; through me, she understood her own path.
A path defined by the question of why one fights.
“Then I concede, but… let’s do this again!” Tan Han asserted.
After conceding, both her magic power and stamina could return to their peak state, but the strain of her mind could not bear such intense battles.
“Stop it; your mental state can’t sustain any further combat,” I said.
“No, I can still… I can…” Tan Han gasped in response.
“Can my foot!” I angrily retorted, even though I seemed relaxed, I felt some strain too, let alone Tan Han, who was under firepower suppression?
Thus, I had to educate Tan Han—just because she was the protagonist doesn’t mean she could go on like this.
Did she think I was an elite monster, a mini-boss to be farmed?
So, I didn’t mind providing some verbal firepower right now, and since Tan Han was the protagonist, I would directly transform into a verbose villain to give her a “lecture.”
“I can see your understanding of battle has changed; you’re beginning to grasp my actions, why we fight, and what battles can achieve. For me, winning or losing in each fight isn’t the final victory or defeat; it’s about improvement. The opponent is endless, and the enemies are inexhaustible; there must always be a reason for fighting.”
“My current mental exhaustion is too great, and my inspiration has run dry, and you feel the same way. We both understand this; continuing won’t benefit either of us. If you’re a stubborn mule, then ignore my words, but I won’t practice with you anymore. After all, I only intended to have one match with you.”
After saying this, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to collect myself.
But the match had not ended. If Tan Han agreed with my perspective, it would directly conclude the combat; if she was stubborn, she would likely attack me in the next moment. But I wouldn’t evade; I would press the respawn button and exit at light speed.
I believed Tan Han wasn’t stubborn.
“You’re right…”
In the end, Tan Han spoke up, dragging her exhausted body as she staggered toward me, leaving two long marks in the yellow sand with her weary steps.
“Good to understand,” I smiled faintly, seemingly pleased with her compliance. As I opened my eyes, I found Tan Han right in front of me.
“What? Should we retreat now?” I asked.
“Yes, we can exit, but there are two choices: one is that we both withdraw, and the other… our battle isn’t over yet; it’s only exiting after the battle ends.”
“Oh… I see. What do you mean?” I crossed my arms and propped my chin, looking at Tan Han inquisitively.
“I want to say… let me win this time, okay?”
“…” My expression instantly dropped.
“It’s not about beliefs, paths, or persistence. It’s purely about competitiveness. After everything today, if I don’t win at least once, it would be quite a regret.”
“Just a regret? Then you should understand that life is filled with regrets everywhere; you need to adapt,” I continued smiling at Tan Han.
I didn’t expect Tan Han would care about such things; indeed, everyone has aspects they won’t easily reveal…
I was the same.
So without hesitation, I delivered the final blow to Tan Han.
Done, log off~
I looked at the victory of the last battle and clicked the option to exit the battle room.
The next moment, I was transported to the common area of the Dream World.
After halting the intense battle, I felt the wave of exhaustion rushing over me. Even though my body felt incredibly relaxed, the mental fatigue was undeniable.
I instinctively checked the time; it was already afternoon. I hadn’t even had lunch. Was I becoming a gaming addict?
In the common area, I discovered several people had gathered. The earlier magical effect had vanished; the bl**d Clan must have fled.
At the central revival zone, a figure appeared—Tan Han, who had directly revived outside the common area after exiting the room.
As soon as Tan Han appeared, I quickly rushed to support her. Though her body still brimmed with vitality, her spirit was another matter.
However, I had barely held Tan Han for long when I felt her weight press down on me completely.
“Wait… Tan Han, what’s going on?” I whispered, patting her small face in an attempt to wake her, but she showed no response.
The commotion quickly drew attention, as Tan Han attracted looks. This… would definitely cause me trouble. Tan Han wouldn’t have fainted in the Dream World, would she?
I remembered being informed about emergency assistance and urgent exit protocols when entering the Dream World, but I wasn’t very familiar with it.
But soon, I saw a warning emerge in front of Tan Han, and after glancing briefly, I forcefully chose to exit for her.
In the instant Tan Han’s body vanished, it felt as if all the gazes turned to me. This sensation was truly unsettling…
Should I explain to them?
But I hardly needed to clarify, and even if I did, what could I say?
Tan Han fainted because of me?
Or maybe Tan Han trained too hard and passed out?
None of that seemed appropriate.
So I chose to avoid it, logging off at light speed.
As both protagonists involved in the prior incident removed themselves from the Dream World, the previously slightly eerie silence was broken.
“Was that Tan Han just now?”
“Seems like it?”
“She fainted? What’s going on here?”
“Maybe she over-trained.”
“How terrifying, to faint in the Dream World…”
Meanwhile, outside.
After logging off, I felt a bit dazed, but after a brief adjustment, I pushed open the cover of the Dream World device and stepped outside.
Because I hadn’t moved for a long while, even lying in a relaxed position, I felt a moment of discomfort when my feet touched the ground, as if I were struggling to walk.
“Hey? Xiao Han? You’re out?” The senior responsible for maintaining the Dream World device seemed to have noticed the commotion and approached, but beside me, Tan Han’s Dream World device was sounding alarms.
“What happened?” Just as this senior wanted to check on my situation, Tan Han’s Dream World device showed signs of malfunction, and its cover popped open automatically.
“Go… check on Tan Han; she has fainted in the Dream World,” I spoke softly.
“What? She fainted? Tan Han? Her?” The senior seemed a bit bewildered. What on earth was happening?
“Senior, should we call for the medical room, or take Tan Han to the nearest hospital?”
“This… this is a big incident! Yes, quickly take her to the medical room!” The senior quickly recognized the situation and moved to help Tan Han down from the device.
“What should we do next? Call the teacher in the medical room?” I asked.
“Wait? How can we wait! This is Tan Han; we must get her there quickly!” The senior was flustered but quickly pulled out a flying broomstick.
“Are we relying on the flying broomstick?” I watched as the senior carried Tan Han on her back, clutching the broomstick and preparing to leave. “Shouldn’t we secure her better? What if…”
“I don’t have any securing spells; Xiao Han, you… you’re just a new student, and it’s unlikely you’ve…”
“I’ll use Binding. I’ll go with you, and once we arrive, I’ll lift your binding spells,” I stated.
“Really? Quickly! Xiao Han, you really know all kinds of spells, even Binding?”
“Let’s just try.”
I shook my head, binding Tan Han’s body to the senior to prevent any falls during flight.
In the end, I still uneasily cast an Energy Shield around them.
Thinking about it, an Energy Shield could serve as a protective measure.
But there was no time to ponder these details; I hopped onto my broomstick, escorting Tan Han and the senior away.
At that moment, several onlookers deliberately logged off to see if something had indeed happened.
“Tan Han really fainted.”
“This is big news.”
“Too bad, tomorrow’s exchange match might not even happen; otherwise, Tan Han’s condition will definitely not be good!”
“Come on, she just fainted. The Witch Academy has plenty of spells or potions to get her back to her best state in no time.”
“Too bad tomorrow seems to be just the public announcement of the exchange match rules, right?”
At this moment, I safely escorted Tan Han to the medical room. This was my first visit here; the last time had been at the medical room in the arena, and I hadn’t expected the Witch Academy’s medical room to rival a formal large hospital…
It seemed to hint at something significant; after all, how could such a large medical room exist without demand?
