"Let make this clear—I don't like you," said Lucas as we stood before each other. Liliana had just left a few minutes ago, but I was certain beyond all doubt that she had whispered sothing to make this bastard want to kill even more.
Not to ntion the way she looked at —those lovestruck, maiden-in-romance eyes, the clumsy blushing act.
Bitch.
She did all that to plant sothing in this idiot's mind.
But...
I actually don't care.
In fact.
I feel sothing strange.
"Heh... Likewise," I replied, tapping my ta-watch. Instantly, a sword materialized in my grip.
It's ti to make use of its special ability.
[MATCH COUNTDOWN]
[5…4…3…2…1]
[FIGHT!]
Whoosh!
Lucas blurred forward, but a smile lingered on my lips.
I was Level 2.3 now, but that didn't matter.
Even at this level, I could kill this bastard.
Perhaps I should just eliminate the root cause of my downfall now.
'…Ryan!'
Oh. Right.
Instantly, I infused mana into the sword.
"Ravias Estria…" I murmured.
In the novel, when the protagonist's lackey wielded this sword, he couldn't activate its special ability—no matter what he tried. But that was because he went about it the wrong way.
Unlike other relics, this one required only two conditions to unlock its power.
One: Blood bonding.
Already done.
The other…
Knowing the spell.
"What…?!" Lucas roared in confusion, swinging his bastard sword. But when it clashed against mine, my blade pulsed with a faint golden glow.
"How?!" he demanded, eyes wide.
I smirked.
"Mimic," I muttered.
A massive drain on my mana reserves hit instantly, but I held my ground.
"Crap!" he cursed, kicking off the ground and launching himself into the air. Mid-spin, a strange surge of mana density flared around him. He propelled himself backward, montarily solidifying atmospheric mana with a sudden burst of his own.
Tsk.
I clicked my tongue as the glow on my sword faded.
Fucking OP bastard.
How the hell did he dodge that?
It should have cleaved his arm clean.
That move—one of the sword's near-cheat abilities—allowed to replicate my opponent's attack and send it right back at them. The best part? They couldn't see it coming.
"Pretty nimble, are we?" I taunted, pointing my sword at him.
His brows furrowed. "How did you absorb my aura?"
I held up a peace sign. "If you win, I might consider telling you."
He wasn't going to win.
"Elental Magic: Eye of the Sun," I murmured.
A stream of golden light surged from the hilt of my blade, racing up the edge until it reached the tip.
Let's test fate, shall we?
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
A concentrated beam of light shot forward.
"YOU THINK YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WITH SKILL?!" Lucas roared, his mana flaring violently.
"Bloodline Ability: First Form!"
He charged straight toward the beam of light, leaping into the air.
His sword descended.
"Brightest Illuminum!" he bellowed.
His blade erupted in brilliance—so blinding I couldn't keep my eyes open.
…Fool.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A deafening explosion shook the ground.
I grinned.
Holding out my sword, I whispered, "Equality."
The mont the word left my lips, my mana surged violently. The sword in my grasp trembled, resonating with my mana.
My body followed suit, trembling uncontrollably as an excruciating pain tore through . I clenched my teeth, refusing to let go.
[DING!]
A familiar chi echoed in my ears. I glanced at my taWatch, my grin widening.
[Level: 7.8]
"Argh—!" A sudden cry caught my attention, and I looked up.
Descending from above was a young man, his golden hair glowing like molten sunlight, his sword radiating divine brilliance. A blade of pure, searing light ca slashing down towards , a judgnt from the heavens.
But I did not flinch. I did not run.
Instead, I raised my palm, my voice steady.
"Elental Magic: Flas of Ephynia."
In an instant, a sphere of fire burst into existence before my outstretched hand. It burned with an intensity that made the air ripple, threatening to expand into an uncontrollable inferno. But I didn't let it.
No.
I compressed it, forcing the fla into a singular, devastating point—an orb no larger than an inch in diater.
Then—
PUM!
It shot forward.
His sword t my fla.
And then—
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A golden streak was blasted into the sky.
Wait.
What... is this feeling?
Suddenly, a foreign mory surfaced—one that I had never known before. A voice. A na. A presence.
'No! Ryan!'
The voice rang in my head, but I had no idea what I was doing anymore.
My lips parted instinctively, and in a voice not entirely my own, I muttered—
"First Form."
A numbing cold wrapped around . The air itself seed to freeze, turning heavy, sluggish. My breath left my lips in wisps of mist as reality itself bent to my will.
"Creator's Path."
The world turned monochro.
All around , students were frozen mid-action, their expressions locked in rage as they faced their opponents. The battlefield, once a chaotic frenzy of combat, now stood still—suspended in ti.
Everything was motionless.
Everything, except .
I took a step forward, my voice a whisper.
"Fall."
The silence shattered.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
When the dust settled, a crumpled figure lay before .
Lucas.
I extended my arm, curling my fingers slightly. In response, his battered body lifted off the ground, levitating effortlessly as if the very air obeyed my command. His limbs dangled, powerless.
I raised my sword, the blade as it trembled with unbridled mana. This would be the end. One swift motion—
But then, I felt it.
A presence.
My grip faltered, my focus slipping for just a fraction of a second.
I turned.
There.
Before I could process what I was sensing, my vision blurred, the world around dissolving into darkness.
And then—
I was elsewhere.
A vast, endless void stretched before , devouring all light. It was a darkness so deep, so all-consuming. Yet, amidst that nothingness, I felt sothing.
No—sothings.
Multiple energies resonated with my very being.
They called to .
I walked.
One step.
Another.
And another.
Until finally, I stood before them.
Two won.
I knew them.
I knew them.
"E-Elyon?!"
"…Master."
And in that mont, as I stood before them in this abyssal void—
All I could feel was one thing.
Hatred.
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