Team 12—Arthur's team—was holding the line with near-flawless precision. Their core still glowed behind them, untouched and protected. But such fortune was rare.
Across the battlefield, chaos devoured everything.
In just twenty minutes, the number of surviving teams had plummeted from 450 to 150. Cores shattered like glass. Screams echoed in every direction. The ground was littered with broken weapons, fallen bodies, and fading lights.
And still, more would fall.
Yet even amid the carnage, there were those who stood firm.
A blur moved through the battlefield, too fast for the eye to follow. A boy—young, dark-haired, yet deadly—glided between enemies like a whisper of death. His hair shimmered with an indigo sheen beneath the crimson sky, and his black eyes were sharp with calm focus.
In his hands, a katana—a slender, curved blade from the Eastern Continent, known for its elegance and precision.
He spun.
He ducked.
He countered.
Every motion was surgical, every strike lethal. Ghouls lunged at him—only to lose their heads mid-charge. The blade he wielded pulsed with indigo mana, trailing ghostly arcs of light with each movement.
"[Shadow Slash]," he whispered.
The energy surged.
His blade became a living extension of darkness, indigo light consuming it from hilt to tip. Though it hadn't yet reached the revered level of Sword Aura, it came dangerously close.
Sword Aura—a rare power only true swordsmen could attain. It transformed mana into a blade sharper than steel, capable of cutting even mithril-enchanted bodysuits like paper.
But this… this was a different kind of edge.
A pair of ghouls circled from behind, thinking they had an opening.
Their heads dropped before they took another step.
Shadow Slash was no ordinary technique. It cut not where the blade moved—but where shadows fell. A phantom's stroke from the blind side of death itself.
Then a voice cracked through the chaos.
"Nyx! Don't leave the defense line!" shouted a girl with flowing golden hair and fierce blue eyes, locked in combat nearby.
Nyx glanced back, offering a faint, sheepish smile. "Oh—sorry about that."
The boy—Nyx Akers—returned to formation with fluid grace, his katana still humming with mana. But his heart beat faster now. The enemies weren't just many—they were getting stronger.
More cunning. More coordinated. More monstrous.
And Shadow Slash alone wouldn't hold forever.
It was a C-rank skill—powerful, but limited. What made it special wasn't just its design, but its origin.
Nyx had created it himself.
Through his unique ability—Skillweaver—he could fuse multiple skills into one, shaping them into a custom technique. Shadow Slash was born from that synthesis. A blend of speed, mana manipulation, and stealth.
But power had its price.
Every time he forged a new skill—or even used one—he had to offer something in return. Money. Materials. Sometimes blood. Sometimes worse.
And with each battle, the cost grew heavier.
Georgina slammed her fist into a charging ghoul, sending it flying into a shattered wall with a violent crunch.
"Nyx! Don't break the line!" she shouted, wiping blood from her cheek as more ghouls surged in.
"Oh, sorry!" Nyx called back, slashing through three enemies in a blur. "But seriously—do you see how many there are? Some of them are already at the 9th mana circuit!"
His tone grew grim. "Our team's still holding on, but everyone's mana is running dangerously low."
Georgina's jaw clenched as she struck down another enemy. "We made a mistake… We should've stayed on defense. Going offensive drained not just our mana—but everyone else's too."
Nyx parried a claw swipe and answered with a clean decapitation. "What's done is done. We've got nine minutes left—let's just hope a Rank 1 doesn't show up."
Georgina snapped her head toward him. "Don't jinx it, damn it!"
But it was too late.
A sudden chill rippled through the battlefield.
Then came a heavy thud, and silence fell in a ten-meter radius.
From the smoke, a ghoul stepped forward—taller than the rest, with jagged bone armor fused to its limbs, and black veins pulsing with cursed mana beneath its skin. Its eyes glowed deep crimson. The very ground under its feet cracked from the pressure it released.
Georgina's expression twisted. "Shit… Rank 1. And judging by the pressure—intermediate stage."
She looked at Nyx. "You hold this side—I'm taking it on!"
Without waiting, she launched herself high into the air, her mana flaring with golden light. She aimed a devastating punch at the ghoul's head.
But it dodged effortlessly.
Before she could recover, a savage kick hit her midair, throwing her backward. She crashed into the ground and rolled, dirt and blood flying.
Ghouls rushed toward her prone form—but she wasn't done yet.
She scraped her foot along the ground, slowing her momentum, then dug in her heels. As the ghouls jumped at her—
She clapped both her fists together like a thunder strike.
BOOM!
A shockwave burst from the impact.
Eight ghouls' heads exploded instantly, their bodies crumpling mid-air.
But the Rank 1 ghoul was already there.
It leapt at her, its leg now wrapped in a cursed, black flame-like energy—Evil Remnant.
The side kick came fast, but Georgina blocked it, grunting, and countered with a punch to its chest. It stumbled back, snarling—but barely hurt.
Then its grin widened.
Its hand pulsed with sinister light. A curse flared.
Georgina's body froze.
Her arms and legs locked—paralysis.
She couldn't move.
The ghoul didn't wait. Its cursed claw, wrapped in Evil Remnant, lunged toward her face.
But just before the blow landed—
Slash!
Its hand flew off, cleanly severed at the wrist.
The ghoul hissed and jumped back.
In front of Georgina, katana in hand, stood Nyx, blood dripping from his blade.
A shallow cut ran across his cheek, but his eyes didn't flinch.
"You okay?" he asked, calm as ever. "Want me to take over?"
Georgina blinked—then nodded slowly.
At first, she said nothing.
Then, her cheeks flushed slightly.
"…Thanks. And yeah… you can handle it."
But the moment felt brief.
With a cruel laugh, the ghoul's severed arm began to regenerate.
The hand reformed in seconds, fingers flexing like nothing had happened.
Both Nyx and Georgina tensed.
"He has two abilities," Nyx muttered. "We need to be careful."
Georgina backed off, regaining her stance. "I'm heading back to the defense line. Don't die, Nyx."
Nyx turned to face the monster, tightening his grip on the katana. His black eyes narrowed.
"Come on then," he whispered.
...............….
Arthur's team held the line, unmoving, even as the Rank 1 Ghoul stepped onto the battlefield.
It towered above the swarm—its blackened claws twitching, eyes glowing with sickly green hunger.
But none of them looked shaken.
They had already witnessed the fury of two monsters born of their generation:
A red-haired boy who devoured ghouls in fire, and another who reduced them to ash with lightning.
So no—fear had no place here.
A shriek cut through the air as a ghoul broke past the outer defense. Julian reacted in a blur, driving his spear straight through its chest. The creature convulsed and fell.
Black blood splattered across Julian's cheek.
He wiped it with his glove, smirking grimly.
Julian: "Arthur, what do you say we take that Rank 1 down? Before it breaks something we can't fix."
Arthur (cutting through another ghoul): "Why? Bored already?"
Another ghoul slipped past, aiming for the rear line. Drake intercepted with a blast of fire, his staff whirling like a cyclone. The ghoul slammed into a tree burning.
Drake cursed under his breath, tension in every limb.
Drake : "This isn't a game anymore. It just pierced our second layer."
Leona: "You guys forget how this works? Killing that thing means serious points. Bonus kill, plus a hundred, and it doubles!"
Arthur flicked a bolt of lightning toward the Rank 1 Ghoul, the air hissing around him.
Arthur: "We've got plenty. Between defense kills and the multiplier, we've banked more than enough.
This phase was never about showing off—it's a war of endurance. Burn through your mana now, and Phase 3 will eat you alive."
Rodin grunted as he raised a new wall of stone, halting a surge of ghouls with sheer force.
Rodin: "We'll have recovery time, won't we?"
Ron: "That's the gamble. What if we don't get the full twenty minutes? What if it's ten? Or less?"
Jace shot him a look, sweat beading at his temple.
Jace: "Ten minutes?! That's suicide. We won't even be at half mana."
Arthur: "Exactly. That's the test.
Anyone can hit hard once. The real question is—can you keep fighting when you've got nothing left?
If you can't maintain your strength… it turns on you."
Julian twirled his spear, his earlier grin fading. His eyes locked onto the Rank 1 with quiet fury.
Julian: "Nice speech. But that thing is throwing our formation into chaos. We can't ignore it."
Arthur: "We won't. There's five minutes left. I'll take care of it. You hold the line."
Julian: "You sure? That thing's not a warm-up."
Arthur: (calm) "I recover fast. Trust me."
A new wave of ghouls howled as it surged forward. Arthur turned to face them, sword raised.
Arthur: "Hold steady. I'll deal with our uninvited guest."
With a crack of thunder, he shot forward—Heaven Breaker activated. Lightning danced along his blade as he carved through the horde, the lesser ghouls vaporized in streaks of white-hot light.
⸻
The Final Move
He'd saved one technique.
An ultimate strike passed down by his father.
Not brute force—but finesse, misdirection, and overwhelming precision.
⸻
Skill Name: Storm Requiem: Final Arc
Type: A-Rank Skill
Mana Cost: 70%
Effect: Arthur fuses lightning and condensed flame through his dual-affinity mana core. The move executes in two phases:
•Phase 1: Lightning mirages mimic his movements, creating chaos and confusion.
•Phase 2: While the enemy is distracted, Arthur ascends. In mid-air, he forges a blazing, lightning-infused spear and hurls it like a divine spear.
If it hits the target's core, it causes total mana disintegration, ignoring all healing or regeneration.
———————
Arthur blurred into motion, zig-zagging across the battlefield like lightning incarnate.
Illusions burst around the Rank 1 Ghoul—some sprinted, some slashed, all moving in sync.
At times, there was one Arthur.
Other times—four.
Each one struck, vanishing like mist.
The ghoul roared in frustration, claws carving through air and sparks. Its eyes darted, unsure of what was real.
But Arthur had only one purpose: find the core.
He darted in, then vanished. Reappeared behind the ghoul. Slashed. Gone again.
Every strike wasn't to kill—it was to test, to feel, to read.
Then—he paused mid-step, eyes narrowing.
His appraisal triggered.
Arthur (to himself): "There it is… just near the heart."
He vanished again, his mirages crashing down in unison—blinding, relentless.
And in that chaos, Arthur soared upward.
Mana flared from his core. His body blazed like a comet against the dark clouds. Lightning danced around him. The air turned electric.
He raised his blade to the sky, flame igniting across its edge.
Arthur (softly): "Father… lend me your flame."
A colossal spear of pure lightning formed in his hand, spiraling with fire and force—a weapon worthy of legends.
He raised it above his head.
Arthur (firmly): "Storm Requiem: Final Arc!"
He hurled it downward.
The sky split.
Thunder screamed.
The battlefield shook.
The Rank 1 Ghoul looked up, instincts flaring. It raised its arms to defend—
—but it was already too late.
The spear tore through its limbs like paper, disintegrating flesh and bone.
Then it struck true—straight through the core, near the heart.
A blinding flash swallowed the ghoul.
No sound. No final roar.
Just silence—and ash.
Where the monster once stood, only drifting embers remained.
Arthur landed hard, knees bent, shoulders heaving.
His sword cracked with residual lightning.
He looked up, eyes calm. A thin smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
The battlefield fell still.
Ash drifted like snow. The air shimmered where lightning had cracked the sky.
Then—
"Phase Two: Complete."
"Congratulations to the teams who endured."
Top Performers as of Phase Two ranking—"
1st – Team 12
2nd – Team 18
3rd – Team 14
4th – Team 17
5th – Team 23
"A total of 100 teams have survived Phase Two."
"Phase Three will commence shortly. Recovery time: 10 minutes. Prepare yourselves."
Silence.
Then—
Julian blinked, jaw slightly slack.
Julian: "That… was so fucking cool."
He grinned wide. "You've been holding out on us, man!"
Sera looked at Arthur like she was seeing him for the first time.
Sera: "That wasn't just an ultimate move. That was art."
Drake, still gripping his staff, just muttered:
Drake: "Okay. That was good"
He gave Arthur a rare, impressed nod.
Rodin slowly clapped once, still processing.
Rodin: "I've seen lightning magic… but not like that. That was on another level."
Ron squinted at the scorched battlefield, lips parted.
Ron: "Holy hell. You made him explode from the inside."
Tess stood stunned, her usual composure broken by a small gasp.
Tess: "That technique… I've only read about magic control like that"
Nikolai just stared, one brow raised.
Nikolai: "Okay, yeah. That was straight-up illegal levels of cool."
Bryce pointed at Arthur with wide eyes.
Bryce: "Bro. You just Thanos-snapped a Rank 1 Ghoul. What the hell was that??"
Jace, still panting, gave a bitter little laugh.
Jace: "Tch… show-off."
He looked at Arthur with a sideways glance—half-jealous, half-respectful.
Jace: "But… good work. Seriously."
Arthur glanced at them all, a faint smirk forming at the corner of his lips.
He didn't say much.
Just:
Arthur: "Four minutes well spent."
The announcement faded. The battlefield calmed.
But every one of them knew—this calm was temporary.
Ten minutes to breathe.
Ten minutes to recover.
And then… the real test would begin