The sky catches fire.
Literally. Heat waves ripple upward from Tobias like liquid rcury, distorting the air so violently that neighboring buildings shimr like mirages. Windows crack in patterns before exploding outward in glittering cascades.
Tobias surrounds himself with a tornado of fla that scorches the ground in a fifty-foot radius. The very air becos toxic, oxygen burning away faster than lungs can process it. Leon tastes copper and ash with every breath.
His armor has lted to his skin in places, tal fused with flesh in ways that’ll leave interesting scars if he survives. Blood trails down his face, mixing with sweat that evaporates before it can drip. Both his Elite Mage and Assassin zombies flicker like bad reception, their spectral forms barely holding together.
Civilians flee in blind panic. Smart move. Ergency sirens wail across the district as Hunter Association teams mobilize for containnt. Leon wonders if they’ll arrive in ti to collect his ashes.
Despite feeling like microwaved at, Leon’s mind remains analytically cold. Tobias is burning through his own body to generate this power. Every technique costs him more than the last.
The S-rank’s movents have lost their perfect fluidity. Stress fractures show in his fla aura—tiny inconsistencies that speak of a system pushed beyond safe paraters. Leon recalls dical texts about Fla Berserker physiology where it said that The body can only channel so much fire before it begins to cook from within.
This is his only chance. Outlast the burnout or beco barbecue.
Leon sends ntal commands to his zombies. Not for victory, that ship sailed when Tobias turned the training ground into hell’s waiting room. But for strategic provocation.
His Assassin zombie vanishes into smoke and heat distortion. The Elite Mage begins suppressing fire with concentrated frost spells, each one designed to force a powerful counter-response. Leon positions himself to maximize Tobias’s energy expenditure while minimizing his own chances of spontaneous combustion.
The strategy is desperate but calculated: make Tobias use his most powerful techniques repeatedly. Force him to burn hotter, faster, deeper.
Tobias roars and unleashes three rapid fla pulses in succession, each more devastating than the last.
The first pulse lts nearby stone to slag. The second turns sand to glass. The third cracks the foundation of surrounding buildings and probably violates several zoning laws.
But Leon sees the cost. Tobias’s veins now glow like molten lava beneath his skin. His steps begin to drag. Perfect S-rank coordination shows hairline cracks.
His breathing becos labored. His fla aura flickers with inconsistent intensity.
*He’s pushing past his body’s limits. Burning himself out from within.*
Leon takes cover behind a collapsed pillar and quickly accesses his system interface market. His hands shake as he navigates to ergency supplies, precious seconds ticking away while death hovers three feet to his left.
High-grade health potion. Mana restoration elixir. His remaining credits vanish faster than his chances of survival.
The potions materialize just as another fla blast scorches his hiding spot. Leon drinks both rapidly, feeling vitality and magical energy flood his battered system. The healing isn’t complete—he still feels like he’s been through a blender—but it’s enough to keep him functional for whatever insane plan his brain is cooking up.
Following Tobias’s long spell of fla casting, his Elite Mage zombie manages to freeze the S-rank’s left leg with concentrated ice magic.
For one crucial mont, Tobias is immobilized. His perfect mobility compromised.
Leon charges with Shadow-edge drawn, channeling every point of dark mana he can muster. He aims specifically for the injured right side, where old burn scars show maximum vulnerability.
The distance closes in heartbeats, Leon’s enhanced speed carrying him through air that should liquify his lungs.
Tobias breaks free from the ice and intercepts the charge, grabbing Shadow-edge with flaming hands.
But he screams.
The dark blade burns him, pure death mana proving toxic to his fla-enhanced physiology. For the first ti, Tobias’s flas recoil from sothing. His grip falters on the weapon.
Leon sees genuine shock in those molten eyes. The S-rank has never encountered magic that could hurt him through his aura.
Dark energy spreads up Tobias’s arms like infection, disrupting his fla control.
The Assassin zombie materializes behind Tobias, using the distraction Leon created. She triggers Duplicate Strike, creating multiple versions that attack from impossible angles.
Twin blades find the weakened burn scars on Tobias’s right side, piercing through damaged flesh. The S-rank staggers, his perfect balance finally broken by accumulated damage and exhaustion.
Dark ichor mixes with bright blood as spectral weapons find their mark. Tobias’s fla aura flickers and dies around the wound sites, his body finally unable to maintain perfect defense.
Tobias screams and staggers backward, his right side bleeding freely for the first ti in the battle. His fla aura gutters like candles in a hurricane, the perfect control finally shattered.
Leon sees his mont and channels every remaining point of mana into Shadow-edge. He leaps forward through dying flas, dodging desperate fire bursts that lack their earlier precision.
The blade drives through Tobias’s heart with surgical accuracy. Dark and violet energy explodes outward like a bomb made of nightmares.
Tobias coughs blood, the tallic taste mixing with ash in his mouth. His flas flicker and die like extinguished torches, leaving only heat-stained ground.
"You... were supposed to be weak..." he mutters, disbelief coloring his final words.
Leon’s reply is steady despite exhaustion that threatens to drop him: "I learned. And you burned too hot."
Tobias collapses to his knees, then falls face-first onto scorched stone. The legendary S-rank’s fla finally extinguishes, leaving only silence and settling ash.
Leon stumbles backward, hands shaking from magical overload and adrenaline crash. His system interface blazes with notifications about available upgrades and essence absorption.
Instead of taking Tobias’s Fla Berserker essence for personal power, Leon makes a different choice. He decides to raise Tobias as one of his undead warriors, keeping the S-rank’s combat knowledge intact.
From power-hungry survivor to strategic commander. Character developnt at its finest.
Leon surveys the battlefield: scorched earth, shattered stone, smoldering debris scattered for blocks. The training ground has been transford into a wasteland that’ll take months to rebuild. Ergency responders begin moving in, their heat-resistant gear allowing them to approach the area.
His zombies flicker weakly around him, their forms barely maintaining cohesion after the brutal battle. The sll of burned stone and tal hangs heavy in the air like incense for the fallen.
Exhaustion finally claims Leon as adrenaline fades and his injuries reassert themselves. He collapses onto the scorched ground, consciousness slipping away despite his victory.
His last thought before darkness claims him is whether he’ll survive long enough to see the consequences of killing an S-rank guild leader.
The sound of approaching sirens fades as Leon surrenders to unconsciousness.
High above the devastation, Chairman Alfonso Ethella hovers on wings of pure magical energy. The S-rank Association leader has been observing the entire battle from his aerial vantage point.
His expression is unreadable as he watches Leon collapse among the ruins. Instead of descending to help or intervene, Ethella turns back toward Association headquarters.
His smile is enigmatic, suggesting knowledge of events that others cannot yet comprehend. The chairman’s departure raises questions about the Association’s true role in these events—and what ga Leon has unknowingly beco a piece in.
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