Chapter 1115 353: Duel with Anubis

The air in the arena seemed to freeze for a moment.

The second round of trials had just concluded, the echoes of magic still reverberating in the air, dust yet to settle, embers not yet extinguished. Ian stood on the charred ground, the silver-white magic armor still fitting closely to his body, the magic wand tightly held in his hand, his gaze calm and resolute.

Anubis stood at the judge's stand, the God of Death's golden cloak gently flapping in the invisible wind. His voice was deep and solemn:

"The second round of trials has ended, you have defeated one of Ancient Egypt's greatest Wizards."

He paused, his gaze deep as an abyss, and slowly said:

"Next, the third round of trials—challenge my will."

However, before he finished speaking, Ian smiled slightly, his tone light yet filled with undeniable determination:

"No, I want to challenge you directly."

As soon as this sentence was spoken, the entire arena seemed to freeze for a moment.

From the audience seats, those who initially supported Heka-Ur, the "phantom audience," erupted with angry boos:

"Madman! He's gone mad!"

"He dares to challenge the God of Death?!"

"Who does he think he is? A god?!"

Meanwhile, Ian's "virtual spectators" burst into cheers:

"Ian! Ian! Ian!"

"He challenges all rules!"

"He does not accept fate!"

"He wants to challenge gods!"

Anubis stood still, the eyes beneath his jackal mask slightly narrowing, silent for a moment.

He did not immediately respond, instead quietly observing Ian, as if scrutinizing a soul about to step into the abyss. Silence spread between them, the phantom audience in the arena even forgetting to breathe, the entire space descending into a strange quietude. It was long before the God of Death finally spoke.

"Commendable courage." His voice remained calm, yet carried a hint of almost imperceptible admiration, "But to challenge me, the wager will be your soul's fate after death."

Ian chuckled softly, his silver-gray right eye shimmering with confident light.

"No need to consider so much." He raised the magic wand, gently tapped his temple, "I don't need to consider so much, I only win, never lose."

This was Ian's—Invincible Heart.

His voice was not loud, yet carried an unshakeable conviction.

Anubis was silent for a moment, as if weighing something. Then, he slowly nodded. Finally, he sighed lightly, a trace of admiration slipping back into his tone.

"As you wish."

He raised the scepter and gave it a gentle wave.

The structure of the arena began to change dramatically.

The previously enclosed space swiftly expanded, walls retreated like living creatures, the ground continuously extended, as if the entire arena was providing ample space for this unprecedented duel. The ground cracked open, revealing an ancient magic array, strands of golden runes intertwined in the air, seemingly reshaping the entire space.

Rumble——!

The whole arena began to tremble violently, the obsidian ground writhing and extending like a living entity, the surrounding walls continuously rising until disappearing into the dim horizon. The originally limited combat space had now transformed into a boundless desert, with faint outlines of pyramids visible in the distance, the sky shrouded by thick clouds, occasionally shattered by lightning, illuminating this realm of death—clearly, the arena was no longer merely a stage but an independent small world.

With Anubis' casting, even the original "phantom audience" underwent a transformation. Those once illusory spirits now visibly manifested as Soul Warriors under Anubis' command. They were clad in ancient war armor, wielding bronze weapons, their expressions solemn, eyes alight with ghostly green flames. The dense army of undead filled the entire field of vision, a chilling aura sweeping forth—these souls were evidently not the type that lingered in the Netherworld.

They belong to a part of Anubis' power. Meanwhile, Ian's virtual audience now seemed insignificantly small, occupying only a small section.

"Tsk, home field advantage, huh?" Ian smirked, waving the magic wand—

"Fictus Spectatores Maxima!" (Phantom Audience · Ultimate Edition)

A silver-white light spread from the wand's tip, instantly covering the entire audience.

The next second, countless new "virtual spectators" appeared out of thin air, dressed in modern wizard robes, wearing glasses, holding magic cameras, and even some young wizards holding fluorescent sticks. Silver-gray magic power spread like a tide, filling the other half of the desert with "spectators" in the blink of an eye.

Among these virtual spectators were no longer merely humanoid figures.

There were also various peculiar creatures—flying jack-o'-lanterns, broom-riding skeletons, and even a few fire-breathing mechanical giant dragons, circling in the air and letting out deafening roars.

They rose in unison, shouting loudly:

"Ian! Ian! Ian!"

"Hogwarts' genius Wizard!"

"Master of Magic Potions! Alchemist!"

"He changes the world with magic!"

Even the dragons roared in their own tongues, and here it has to be mentioned about Ian's linguistic prowess; he didn't just learn human languages but languages of other creatures as well.

Because of this.

His magic could achieve such effects, while if it were those academically challenged ones using this magic, they wouldn't be able to create so many realistic virtual spectators.

After all.

The limits of magic are the limits of the wizard, and the lower bound is the same.

Witnessing such a scene.

Anubis' jackal mask twitched slightly, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Wasting magic power on things like this, it's quite unnecessary."