Zeno had a system that assisted players.
It displayed a status screen, provided a map, managed inventory, and offered countless other features, just like in a ga.
On the status screen, there were gauges for HP, mana, and stamina.
But Arlon never used them.
Not because they were inaccurate. In fact, they were terrifyingly precise.
And yet… they weren't.
Because stamina couldn't truly be quantified by numbers. A person on the brink of collapse could still run if chased by a dog.
Willpower, instinct, adrenaline—none of it could be captured by a percentage.
The sa went for the HP bar.
It was accurate up to a point. But once it hit 1 HP, things got murky. At a glance, 1 and 0 didn't seem that different.
But between them stood a mountain.
1 ant the player could still remain in Trion. They could stay in their Zeno, keep fighting. If no further harm ca, it was up to them to survive or to give in.
0 ant it was over.
No decisions left to make.
That was why Arlon stopped relying on the gauges long ago.
He trusted his own perception more than a blinking number on a screen.
---
June narrowed her eyes. At her level, she didn't need skills like Eyes of KETA* to gauge soone.
Strength had a weight. A feel. An echo in the world around them. She could sense it.
And Carla?
She was around June's level.
Maybe a bit lower.
But not by much.
That ant this wouldn't be an easy fight.
June didn't smile. She didn't crack her knuckles or summon a clever line.
She simply reached behind her, fingers curling around the Infernal Spire, and drew it with a slow, deliberate motion.
The staff's core pulsed once—heat blooming from its center in a low, volcanic thrum.
Carla unsheathed her sword with a smooth, practiced motion. The blade shimred with a faint orange sheen—not elental, but polished.
Impossibly so. It glead like it had never tasted blood, though June doubted that was true.
No one stood beside Asef without blood on their hands.
No one.
For a mont, the world was still.
Then June moved.
She raised a hand, index and middle finger extended, the other three curled inward. A small glyph burned red against her palm.
A simple spell.
A test.
The fireball launched forward with a crackle of air, arcing high for a delayed drop.
Carla didn't flinch.
She stepped forward and swung.
Clean.
Effortless.
The fireball split in half, vaporized at the edges by the force of the swing alone. Fla scattered like sparks against her blade and fizzled out in the wind.
June's eyes narrowed slightly.
Not bad.
Was that sothing any warrior could do here? There was no strict class system among Trionians.
No "Mage," no "Warrior," not in the way players thought of them. Everyone simply fought. How they did so was up to them.
Still, cutting through fire wasn't normal.
And she wasn't going to treat Carla like she was.
Her next spell ca faster.
This one didn't fly.
She slamd the base of her staff into the ground, and runes sparked outward in a radial burst.
Infernal Shackles.
Fla surged from beneath Carla's feet—searing chains erupting from the earth to coil around her legs, aiming to bind and burn at once.
Carla's eyes flashed, and she moved—not backward, not sideways, but through the spell.
She twisted her body low, ducking under the first rise of fla, then brought her sword down in a sharp arc that severed one of the magical chains mid-swing.
Another tried to catch her ankle, and she spun, planting her hand on the ground, flipping up and over with dancer's grace.
June didn't stop.
She was already casting again.
A whip of fire this ti, arcing from her hand like a lash, aiming for Carla's exposed back as she landed.
But the mont Carla's boots hit the ground, she twisted again, raising her blade behind her without looking.
The fla struck tal and scattered.
Carla's tail flicked once, and she finally spoke again.
"You're fast."
"Not fast enough, apparently," June muttered.
But internally, she was calculating.
This opponent wasn't just strong.
She was experienced.
Fighting her wasn't just a contest of power—it was a ga of angles, misdirection, and speed.
June dropped her stance lower, drawing in mana as the Infernal Spire began to glow with a deeper, darker light.
The fire spells had just been the start.
It was ti to test the real gap between them.
But Carla wasn't waiting either.
She stepped forward.
Her sword flicked sideways, a horizontal slash—one not aid to kill, but to see how June moved, how she reacted, and if she flinched.
She didn't.
The blade passed within inches of her cheek as she ducked under it, twisting into a roll, coming up on the other side with her staff pointed low—
A blast of molten fire exploded from the tip.
Carla jumped, flipping backward into the air, and June surged forward to et her the mont she landed.
And then the area lit with fire and tal.
They didn't speak again.
They didn't need to.
Their fight had begun.
And neither side was giving an inch.
---
The mont their blades clashed, the forest reacted.
A blast of pressure erupted outward, shattering tree trunks and peeling bark off in waves.
Leaves burst into the air like feathers in a storm, whirling above the battlefield as the shockwave settled.
Arlon stepped back, eyes narrowed.
He didn't know what kind of fighter Asef was. Not really. He had guesses. Suppositions. But no firsthand knowledge. This was their first real confrontation.
So when Arlon drew the Void Edge, he watched Asef closely.
The man responded by calmly unsheathing his own sword.
There was nothing extravagant about it. It didn't radiate chaos or hum with unnatural power. It looked no more unique than one of the Royals' standard weapons.
But Arlon knew—each equipnt among the Royals was already strong enough.
He activated Eyes of KETA*.
A mont passed.
The data surfaced.
***
Na: *******
Level: *******
Race: *******
Weakness: *******
Information: *******
Reviews
All reviews (0)