Sylvaâs grip tightened around the hilt of her sword as she stared at him, disbelief etched across her face.
"Do you... not feel the pain?" she demanded, voice wavering between outrage and confusion. "And wait did you just call me baby girl?"
The sheer nerve of him left her momentarily at a loss. She had struck with one of her strongest techniques her rainbow sword, forged entirely from elemental energy, capable of piercing even the armored hide of an eighth-ranked beast and he had stopped it. With one hand. Bare.
Not to say forty thousand times the pain sensitivity. With even the slightest scratch, most people would collapse screaming. Many would black out instantly. The pain from this kind of deep wound should have dropped him to the ground, writhing or unconscious.
Yet here he was.
And now, instead of grimacing in agony or showing any sign of weakness, he was smiling at her. A cocky grin stretched across his face as though he were enjoying himself.
"Ohhh, that isnât the thing you should be worried about..." Razealâs tone was maddeningly casual, his voice carrying a low confidence that dug under her skin. "You see... itâs my turn to attack."
His words made her stomach clench, but in the back of her mind the questions kept scratching. How? How did he stop that strike? Even with his bare hand bleeding, he hadnât so much as flinched.
The truth, though she couldnât know it yet, was this:
When her rainbow blade had clashed with him, heâd relied on his Obsidian Skeleton to absorb the brunt of the impact. It bore the cutting force without buckling.
But that was only half of it.
The force of her blow should have blasted him backwards, sent him crashing into the arena wall, maybe even broken his body from the sheer transfer of kinetic energy. Yet he had stood still. That was the work of his Flow Ability. Heâd guided the massive surge of potential and kinetic energy through his body, channeling it harmlessly into the ground beneath his feet and even dispersing some behind him. To the spectators, it looked as though heâd simply absorbed the blow. In truth, heâd let it pass through him.
Without the obsidian skeleton, his mere B-rank physical stats wouldnât have stood a chance. But with it? He could bleed from the skin and still grin in her face.
And now, apparently, he wanted to show her something.
"Let me show you... my Absolute Defence 2.0," Razeal said, his grin widening. "It matches yours but believe me... itâs better."
The ground beneath her seemed to... darken.
Sylva glanced down and froze. Her own shadow was flickering.
Her instincts screamed as the darkness warped and bulged, sprouting jagged, reaching shapes. Then they took form. Fingers. Dozens of them. Twisted, inky-black hands forcing their way up from the ground, stretching toward her neck from behind.
They moved like something out of a nightmare silent, fluid, inevitable.
Her wings flared instantly, massive and radiant in the dim light. "No!"
With a single powerful beat, she shot backward. The air vibrated in the space sheâd just been standing, the sound of displacement sharp and violent. In less than a second, she was two hundred meters away, hovering high above the arena floor.
She kept her eyes on him, her breathing heavy. Her mind spun at impossible speed.
That black thing again. Where did it come from?
Her first thought was a magic spell. But no she hadnât felt the slightest shift in mana, hadnât sensed even a trace of particles moving in the air. Her perception was too refined to miss something like that.
Which meant... whatever it was, it wasnât magic.
Her brows knit as she considered the possibilities, but she had nothing concrete. What had just happened?
While Sylva worked through the puzzle, high above her in the spectator stands, Selphiraâs reaction was entirely different.
High above the battlefield, Selphira hovered in the air, her long coat fluttering in the wind. Her body was trembling not from cold or fear, but from the overwhelming rush of discovery. Goosebumps ran across her skin like a thousand tiny sparks.
"A... a new element..." she whispered, her voice caught between awe and disbelief.
Her sharp eyes remained locked on the black substance that had erupted moments ago, right behind Sylvaâs back. This time, she hadnât missed it. The first time it had appeared as a wall stopping Sylvaâs rainbow sword strike sheâd thought she might be hallucinating. After all, she had been too stunned by the absurd sight of Razeal stopping that world-cutting slash with one bare hand.
But now, seeing it manifest again, she knew it was no trick of her mind.
Selphiraâs thoughts raced. She had already run the calculations the moment it appeared. She had felt no mana fluctuation, no arcane particles stirring in the air, no magical current shifting around them. For someone like her, with senses trained to detect the faintest whiff of magic, that absence was screaming.
Whatever he used it wasnât magic.
And if it wasnât magic, then there was only one possibility left.
"Itâs... an element affinity," she breathed, voice almost shaking from the weight of the realization. "A brand-new elemental affinity... one thatâs never been documented before."
The shock hit her so hard that she didnât even spare a thought for how he had taken Sylvaâs blow without blasting up or collapsing from the pain. The question of his endurance, his pain tolerance none of it mattered in that moment. Her focus was singular. Consuming.
That black gas, that viscous liquid, that solid mass it had shifted forms seamlessly, like it obeyed only his will. It had come straight out of the ground. No, more precisely it had emerged from a shadow.
Selphiraâs hands were trembling so badly that her glasses kept sliding down her nose, and when she tried to push them back up, the motion only made them wobble more. She didnât care. She left them crooked, her gaze glued to the battlefield.
"From shadow..." she muttered rapidly to herself. "Yes... Iâm certain... it came from shadow."
The closest guess her mind could land on was Shadow Affinity. But even as she thought it, the term felt too small. Too simple. It wasnât making much sense as it could be something else? Since she wasnât fully sure of.. But from that it seems like it.
Her lips curled into a faint, hungry smile. "I need him... I need him so badly..."
While the arenaâs chaos unfolded, the reactions from the spectators rippled through the stands like a silent wave.
Most people had the same general expression a blend of shock, disbelief, and that strange excitement that irritation but excitement which they hate from all within from watching something you know youâll be telling stories about for years. But even within that shared reaction, there were layers and differences.
Maria and her mother were no exception. Their faces were stiff with astonishment, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, unable to comprehend what was unfolding below. Even among the chaos of battle, they could not look away from the duel.
Celestia sat in perfect composure. Outwardly, she was the calmest person in the colousium. Not a muscle in her face shifted, not a single gasp escaped her lips. But her stillness was deceptive her eyes were razor sharp, tracking every movement, every flicker of energy. She was not relaxed; she was studying. And whatever conclusions she was reaching, she kept them locked tightly behind her unreadable expression.
Nova was much the same calm on the outside, yet there was an almost predatory focus in her gaze. No one could tell what either of them was truly thinking. And perhaps that was for the best.
Then came Arabella. The moment the black material had appeared again, she had simply let out a sharp whistle.
"Now this," she murmured to herself, "is getting interesting."
Her tone was casual, almost lazy, but anyone who knew her well would see the slight gleam in her eye. She might have looked like she didnât care, but the truth was she was more than a little impressed. Shocked, even though sheâd never would admit it outright.
If there was one person in the stands whose reaction was far more intense than the rest, it wasnât because of the strange new element or the black wall. It was Selena.
Her gasp had been sharp, almost painful to hear, when she saw Sylvaâs sword connect with Razealâs bare hand. She had been braced for the blow to tear through him, for him to stagger back, screaming in pain. Instead... he had stopped it. Injured, yes but standing.
But that wasnât what shook her most.
Selenaâs blessing was still active on Sylva. That meant the moment Razeal was injured, he should have felt it forty thousand times worse than the original wound. he should have been writhing in agony, barely able to breathe. Instead... nothing.
At first, she wondered if her skill had failed. But no the magic was still flowing, still doing exactly what it was meant to do. It was working.
And that was the problem.
If her blessing was functioning perfectly, and he still wasnât reacting... it meant one thing.
He had felt the pain. He just didnât show it.
Her shoulders trembled as she lowered her head. This wasnât the relief she had expected to feel if her blessing hadnât hurt him. Instead, it made her chest ache with something she couldnât name. Why didnât he react? What was wrong with him? What wasnât he feeling pain? Or was he feeling pain?
Her thoughts tangled together until she couldnât make sense of them anymore. All she could do was watch, and wonder, and feel that gnawing unease grow stronger.
Down in the arena, Sylvaâs sharp green eyes were fixed on the strange, swirling black pool where she had stood just moments ago. It was thick and heavy, condensed into a strange, oil-like shadow. Small, crooked hands formed entirely from the darkness still reached upward from it, grasping at nothing now that she had moved away.
The thing didnât disappear when she moved. That was wrong. A shadow should be tied to the body casting it. But this one remained rooted in place, like it had been severed from her and made into something entirely separate.
Unbeknownst to her, Razeal knew the truth though even he didnât fully understand the limits yet. If he used too much of another personâs shadow, it could detach from their body entirely, becoming his. The moment that happened, the victimâs shadow would reform naturally beneath them, behaving as normal but the stolen shadow would remain wherever he left it, under his complete control.
And once he owned a shadow... it didnât let go.
"Oh, no, you canât run away from my attack," Razeal called across the arena, his voice carrying that infuriating, self-assured tone. His smirk made Sylvaâs blood boil.
Her eyes narrowed. She had already put distance between them nearly two hundred meters and yet his confidence didnât waver.
Then she felt it.
A flicker beneath her feet. A shift in the air that had nothing to do with the wind from her own wings. She glanced down and saw it a new shadow spreading from her feet, long and black against the pale arena floor.
Her own shadow.
The other one the severed one still sat in the center of the battlefield, its claw-like hands writhing.
Her instincts screamed, and in the same instant, jagged black spikes erupted upward from the shadow beneath her. They tore through the ground like spears, aiming straight for her chest and throat.
With a sharp snap of her wings, Sylva vanished in a blur of wind and lightning, reappearing dozens of meters away.
But even as she landed, the shadow beneath her stretched and shifted again, and more black spikes shot upward, forcing her to leap once more.
Her teeth clenched. "What is happening? Where are these attacks coming from?!"
It was as if no matter where she moved, the ground beneath her betrayed her, sprouting death from her own silhouette. It wasnât just magic it was something far stranger. And the most terrifying part? She couldnât sense the energy source. There was no telltale signature to follow, no current of power to trace back to him. It was as if the shadows themselves had decided to hunt her.
Above, Selphiraâs trembling had only worsened. The black substance, the constant shifting of form between liquid, solid, and vapor it was the most terrifyingly beautiful thing she had ever seen. And the fact that it emerged from shadows only deepened her obsession.
"I call it... Automatic Defense Mechanism," Razeal whispered under his breath, his lips curling into a faint grin. "Itâs like forcing your enemy to become their own worst enemy. What can they do? Keep running forever?"
"I mean... itâs your shadow shooting bullets at you. You canât outrun it. You canât hide from it. And the range?" He raised his hand and pinched his fingers together. "Almost zero. Itâs always with you."
He tilted his head slightly, watching Sylva dance through the air in frustration.
How is she even supposed to defend herself?
Sure, she could throw up a wall of earth or some kind of barrier to block the attacks maybe the spikes wouldnât pierce through. But the real question was... would she even do it? And even if she did, could she maintain that defense forever?
Her movements were swift, but her eyes told the truth. She was trying to figure it out. Not how to survive it which looks not so much problem for her.. was as what this was. The pool of shadow in the center of the arena was growing. Every time she moved, more of that tar-like darkness collected where sheâd once been standing.
Razeal couldnât help but admire it himself.
Honestly... these shadow abilities are absurdly convenient.
Attacking someone from their own shadow it was the perfect ambush. A cheat code, really. And the best part? It wasnât even a high-effort skill. This was one of the simplest applications of shadow manipulation heâd ever thought of. All it required was a basic grasp of shadow control and close to medium range.
The only limitation was distance. At the moment, he couldnât influence shadows that were too far away from him. But right now, in the confines of this arena, that wasnât a problem.
He was still thinking about the next step when Sylvaâs voice cut through the air.
"This ability of yours..." she said, hovering just far enough to avoid the grasp of his spikes. "Itâs quite an annoyance. Attacking from someoneâs own shadow? And what is this new affinity of yours?"
She spoke casually, but her eyes gave her away. They werenât just curious they were fascinated. She had studied elemental affinities her entire life, and even in the middle of a duel, she couldnât help herself. Part of her mind itched to tear apart this mystery and understand it.
But she was still in a fight. She couldnât stop not to say he was attacking her not even letting her concentrate.
Her expression hardened, and her tone shifted, regaining its sharpness. "Itâs not that complicated to counter, you know. In fact, itâs quite simple stay away from my shadow."
Her lips curled into a smirk. She looked him in the eye, her wings giving a slow, deliberate beat. "You seem proud of yourself with this little trick of yours. But I think youâve forgotten something."
The wings behind her flared, vast and radiant woven from wind and crackling lightning. "These wings arenât for show."
With one powerful flap, Sylva lifted higher, the ground dropping away beneath her. Her shadow on the arena floor shrank smaller and smaller with every meter she climbed.
From her new vantage point, she crossed her arms smugly. "And also from up here, I can attack freely. Thereâs not a thing you can do about it."
Without warning, she extended her hand, pointing a finger directly at him. A bolt of lightning snapped into existence and hurtled toward him, its path slicing through the air like a jagged spear.
Razeal tilted his head, smiling faintly. "Oh, youâre quite mistaken."
The bolt reached him but he shifted slightly, letting it tear past. His voice carried upward toward her as he spoke, calm and steady. "If you think youâre the only one with wings... youâre wrong."
The shadow behind him began to swell and twist. Darkness rippled outward, condensing into a massive pair of wings matte black, with an oily sheen that drank in the light around them. They were beautiful in a predatory way, each feather sharp and defined, spreading wider than Sylvaâs own.
They didnât shimmer. They didnât glow. They devoured.
And as the final feathers formed, the air around him seemed to grow heavier, colder.
"Oh," Razeal added almost casually, "and youâre not the only one with weapons, either."
From the darkness at his side, something long and rigid began to take shape. A blade emerged straight, with no curve, almost unnaturally perfect at a ninety-degree angle. Its handle was plain, but the entire thing was forged from pure shadow, so black it was as if the air itself refused to touch it.
He bent his knees slightly, his body lowering into a launch stance.
Then
BOOM.
The shadow wings flared open and slammed downward, unleashing a shockwave that cracked the arena floor beneath him. In an instant, he was airborne, streaking upward like a meteor shot from the ground. The air rippled in his wake, a dark blur aimed directly for Sylva.
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3k words
Sorry guys, maybe only one Chapter for today. Honestly, I finished this one so slowly I almost fell asleep so many times in the middle. Barely stayed alive through it.
Well... today I wonât say much. I was just tired, so yeah... I slept most of the day. It was free, gomenasai đ
Though I wonât say Iâm lazy đđ but maybe... just a little today.
Thanks for reading, guys!
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