## Liam's Perspective
The crushing force slamd into the ground again. My body scread in protest as I tasted blood. Sothing felt different about Dashiell's attacks now – unnaturally powerful, beyond what a breakthrough alone could explain.
"What's wrong, Knight?" Dashiell's voice carried a new, dark confidence. "Where's that arrogance now?"
I struggled to my feet, swaying slightly. My vision blurred at the edges. Whatever power Dashiell had tapped into, it was overwhelming.
"Look at him," ca Dominic Ashworth's voice from the crowd. "The fool doesn't understand what he's facing."
Darnell Bradford laughed coldly. "Of course not. How could a nobody comprehend the Blackthorne family's ultimate technique?"
I wiped blood from my mouth, forcing my thoughts to clear. "What technique?"
Dashiell circled like a predator. The dark energy swirling around him felt wrong – volatile and dangerous.
"The Blood Sacrifice Formation," Dominic announced loud enough for everyone to hear. "A forbidden technique that temporarily grants Martial Marquis power by burning one's life essence. He'll pay a heavy price later, but you won't live to see it."
The realization hit hard. This wasn't a breakthrough. This was borrowed power – but no less deadly for it.
Dashiell attacked again, his speed doubling. I barely raised my arms to block when his fist connected with my chest. The impact sent flying across the courtyard.
"Pathetic!" Dashiell shouted, appearing beside before I even landed.
His kick caught mid-air, changing my trajectory and sending crashing into a stone pillar. The marble shattered around .
Pain exploded across my back. I coughed violently, spitting more blood. My ribs felt broken, maybe worse. The golden light of my Chaotic Body flickered weakly, struggling to heal injuries faster than they were inflicted.
I looked up to see Isabelle's face among the onlookers. Her eyes were wide with horror. Beside her, Michael Ashworth watched with a grim expression.
Seeing her there, witnessing my humiliation, cut deeper than any physical blow.
"Is this truly the man who would challenge the Blackthorne family?" Dashiell taunted, stalking toward . "The great Liam Knight, face-down in the dirt where he belongs!"
I forced myself up on shaky legs. "I'm still standing."
"Not for long."
Dashiell moved so fast I couldn't track him. His fist connected with my stomach, driving the air from my lungs. I doubled over, gasping. Before I could recover, his knee crashed into my face, sending sprawling backward.
"Venerable Fifth Mountain!" I roared desperately, channeling what energy I had left.
The massive golden mountain materialized above Dashiell. For a mont, hope flickered in my chest. Then Dashiell simply raised one hand and shattered my technique like glass.
"Your pathetic mountains an nothing to now," he sneered.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Pavilion Master Mariana step forward, concern etched on her face. Before she could intervene, Michael Ashworth placed a restraining hand on her arm.
"This is his battle," I heard him say. "Let it play out."
Dashiell grabbed by the throat and lifted off the ground. His fingers tightened, crushing my windpipe.
"Look at ," he commanded. "I want to see the light leave your eyes." First published on *.
I clawed at his arm, but his strength was insurmountable. Black spots danced in my vision as oxygen beca scarce.
"Just kill him already!" Erson Hols shouted from the sidelines. "The technique won't last forever!"
Dashiell nodded and hurled to the ground. I landed hard, barely conscious. My body felt broken, my spirit not far behind.
"A final blow for the commoner who dared rise above his station," Dashiell announced, gathering dark energy between his hands.
The power he summoned was terrifying – a writhing mass of crimson and black that seed to devour the very light around it. The Blood Sacrifice technique's full potential.
"Die knowing your failure," he said coldly. "Die knowing she watched you fall."
In those desperate seconds, I searched my mind frantically for anything that might save . Jackson Harding's teachings, ancient scrolls, forgotten techniques – I grasped at ntal fragnts, seeking salvation.
Then I rembered. The inscription in the hidden chamber below the Celestial Apothecary Guild. The forbidden technique I'd sworn never to use.
"Golden Shield of the Immortals," I whispered, the words barely audible.
Sothing stirred within my core. My jade pendant grew warm against my chest.
Dashiell unleashed his attack. "Blackthorne Extinction Wave!"
The devastating energy surged toward like a tidal wave of destruction. I closed my eyes, focusing inward on that tiny spark the inscription had awakened.
*Borrow from your future to survive your present.*
White light engulfed everything. The gathered crowd shielded their eyes as the courtyard disappeared in the blinding flash.
When it subsided, Dashiell stood triumphant, breathing heavily. His borrowed power was already beginning to fade, the toll on his body becoming evident in his trembling limbs.
"It's done," he declared, turning away. "The upstart is—"
"Is what, exactly?"
My voice cut through the silence like a blade. The crowd gasped collectively.
Dashiell whirled around, disbelief etched on his features. "Impossible!"
I stood in the crater his attack had created, my body enveloped in a radiant golden light more brilliant than ever before. The glow pulsed with each heartbeat, repairing my wounds before everyone's eyes.
"How?" Dashiell stamred, taking an involuntary step backward. "That attack should have obliterated you!"
I stepped forward, each movent fluid and strong. The golden light intensified, forming a second skin over my battered flesh.
"You borrow power by sacrificing your future," I said, my voice carrying across the now-silent courtyard. "But I've already sacrificed everything that matters. What more can you take from ?"
Pure panic flashed across Dashiell's face. He launched himself at with a desperate howl, fist cocked back for another devastating blow.
My hand shot up, catching his fist effortlessly. The impact didn't even force back a step. Our eyes t – his wide with fear, mine cold with resolve.
"My turn," I said softly.
The golden light around pulsed once, and a shock wave emanated from my body. Dashiell was thrown backward, crashing into the crowd of onlookers.
I advanced slowly, each step leaving a glowing footprint on the ground. The borrowed power coursing through felt different from Dashiell's – cleaner but no less dangerous. I could feel it burning through my reserves, demanding paynt I wasn't sure I could afford.
But in this mont, none of that mattered. Isabelle was watching. My pride was at stake. My very future hung in the balance.
Dashiell scrambled to his feet, his face a mask of fury and terror. "This changes nothing! I am still a Blackthorne!"
"And I," I replied, golden energy gathering around my fists, "am the man who's going to break your family's arrogance once and for all."
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