Coordination
Our coordination with the Guildmaster was flawless. His sword drew the Mandragora Forest's horde, and I seized the opening to strike with my harp. The Mandragora King attempted to overwhelm us, manipulating his massive tendrils, but I began to play a mysterious melody from the harp of Atlantis civilization—one that allowed me to predict the King's tendril movements. It was a delicate, intricate melody, as if reading the very movements of the King's mind.
Time and again we faced peril, yet we fought on. My immortal power healed layer upon layer of wounds, while the Guildmaster's sword skills cut down the Mandragoras as they surged forward. Yet the King's power was overwhelming, effortlessly parrying our attacks. His colossal frame stood as immovable as a mountain.
Soon, the Guildmaster began to show signs of exhaustion. His movements slowed, and his swordplay grew erratic. “Mitam... I... can't go on...” His voice came out hoarse.
I set down my harp, approached the Guildmaster, and poured my immortal healing power into his wounds. “It's alright, Guildmaster. We can't give up yet.”
His strength restored, the Guildmaster readied his sword once more. And we both resolved to muster our last ounce of strength and confront the Mandragora King.
Then I noticed it. The King's attack patterns followed a pattern. They were structured like a complex musical score, with predictable rhythms and melodies.
I reproduced those rhythms and melodies on my harp. Then something strange happened. The King's movements began to change in sync with my melody. It was as if the King was being controlled by my melody.
I made the melody even more complex, trapping the king's attacks, then transformed it into a gentle melody that seemed to speak to the king's heart.
The king's enormous body slowly came to a standstill. Then, slowly, he unwound his vines, shrinking his massive, tree-like form. Eventually, the king transformed into a small sprout-like figure and fell quietly to the ground.
Silence returned to the sanctuary. The green light faded, and Mandragora Forest vanished. Only the small sprout remained, quietly left before us.
“...So... the trial... is over...” The Guildmaster murmured, breathless.
Then, beside the small sprout, a luminous liquid-like substance appeared. It was, indeed, the blood of the sage.
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