Ashan lowered the spear slightly, letting it rest sideways in his grip as he lifted his gaze toward Einar hovering above, his posture relaxed despite the tension in the air, as though the clash they had just exchanged meant very little to him.
"What's this all of a sudden?" he called out, voice steady, almost mocking as it carried upward. "Did you finally realize that swordplay alone won't be enough to defeat me?"
Einar didn't respond immediately, but the grin that slowly spread across his face carried something different this time—not irritation, not arrogance, but a sharp, dangerous excitement, the kind that only appeared when a warrior found something worth testing himself against.
"You really are strong," he admitted, tightening his grip around the hilt of his massive blade, the muscles in his arm flexing as faint tremors of power ran through it. "Strong enough that I can praise you without holding back."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"But don't misunderstand… I'm far from finished."
A brief pause followed, heavy with intent, before his grin widened.
"In fact, I just realized something," he continued, raising the blade and pointing it directly at Ashan, the air around its edge trembling faintly. "You're the perfect opponent to test my new technique."
The killing intent sharpened instantly.
"Be honored… you'll be the first to experience it."
Below, Ashan bent his knees just slightly, lowering his stance as the spear tilted forward in his hand, a faint smirk forming beneath his mask as his eyes sharpened with interest rather than caution.
"Yeah?" he replied lightly. "Then don't hold back now."
Einar moved in the next instant.
His arm snapped forward, and the blade left his hand.
It spun violently through the air, cutting downward toward Ashan at a lethal angle, heavy enough to split the ground if it landed cleanly.
Ashan didn't hesitate.
The spear came up in a clean motion,
Clang!
The impact rang out sharply as he deflected it aside with ease, sending the massive blade veering off course and flying past him before slamming into the ground several meters away.
For a moment,
Silence.
Then confusion exploded.
"…Eh?"
"Wait.. what?"
"Did he just throw his sword?!"
The students watching erupted in disbelief, voices overlapping as they tried to process what they had just seen.
Even Silas stared, completely caught off guard, his expression blank for a second before twisting into irritation.
"That crazy fucker… what the hell is he doing?" he snapped. "Did his brain short-circuit?!"
But before anyone could make sense of it,
Einar moved again.
His arm stretched forward.
His fingers clenched.
The blade stopped.
Mid-air.
A sharp metallic hum echoed across the arena as the weapon froze unnaturally, hanging in place for a fraction of a second,
Then,
Whoosh…!
It shot back.
Ashan's eyes narrowed slightly as the blade came at him again, faster than before, cutting through the air with a sharp, controlled curve that no thrown weapon should have been capable of.
Clang!
He deflected it again, but this time, the force carried intention.
"…Telekinesis," Ashan muttered, adjusting his footing slightly as the blade curved away once more. "Controlling your weapon from a distance."
A faint smile appeared.
"Not bad."
Einar laughed.
"Who said it was just that?"
Both his hands came forward, fingers tightening together as if grasping something invisible,
and the blade responded instantly.
It didn't just move.
It shifted.
The sword twisted mid-air, rotating, accelerating, then snapping toward Ashan again—this time not in a straight line, but in a sequence of attacks that came from multiple angles in rapid succession, each strike bending unnaturally as it aimed for blind spots no normal swordsman could reach.
Ashan's body reacted without pause.
The spear moved continuously in his hand, intercepting each strike with precise timing, sparks bursting with every collision as he shifted, twisted, and adjusted his footing to keep up with the increasingly erratic assault, the blade now targeting the inside of his elbow, the back of his knee, his spine, and even his off-side angles in a relentless pattern.
And it didn't stop there.
Second by second, the attacks grew sharper.
Faster.
More refined.
What had started as a simple telekinetic control now evolved into something far more complex, the blade no longer behaving like a single weapon, but like multiple invisible swordsmen striking at once, their intent overlapping, their movements perfectly synchronized.
From the sidelines, Silas's expression changed completely.
"…That's not just control," he muttered, his eyes tracking every movement with intense focus. "That's his sword style… multiplied."
His lips curled slightly.
"Unbelievable… he's increasing his attack frequency while removing physical limitations."
There was admiration in his gaze.
"So this is what you've been doing all those years in the elf realm…"
Nearby, Roswayn leaned forward, completely captivated, her eyes shining with excitement.
"That's insane…!" she whispered. "It's moving faster than before, and from impossible angles…!"
Back in the arena, Ashan exhaled slowly, his movements sharpening further as the pressure increased, his spear intercepting another rapid sequence before he finally shifted his approach.
"Alright…"
In the next instant, another weapon appeared in his hand.
The Gunbai.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward and struck the incoming blade directly, the war fan colliding with it at just the right angle,
The connection snapped.
For a split second, Einar's control faltered.
That was all it took.
The blade lost its rhythm, its trajectory collapsing as it slammed into the ground with a heavy crash.
Ashan straightened slightly, rolling his shoulder as he casually rested the Gunbai.
"That was impressive," he admitted, voice carrying clearly. "You actually pushed me back for a moment there."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"But now I'm curious… how exactly does that work?"
Einar smirked as he lifted his hand again, summoning the blade back into the air with a flick of his fingers.
"You want to know?" he said. "Fine."
The blade hovered beside him.
"I call it 'Imaginary Technique: Multi Sword Dance'."
His gaze sharpened.
"I construct an imaginary fighter inside my mind… every movement, every angle, every attack pattern.. and as I visualize it, my telekinesis reproduces it in real time."
The blade rotated slowly.
"In this state… there are no unreachable angles. No physical limits."
Ashan's eyes widened slightly.
"…That's actually brilliant."
From the side, even Silas fell silent for a moment before muttering under his breath,
"Insane… pulling something like that off requires absurd concentration…"
Einar didn't wait.
He raised his hand again, and threw the blade once more.
Faster.
Sharper.
But Ashan was ready.
A Rasengan formed instantly in his palm, swirling violently as he prepared to counter the moment the blade closed in.
Einar reacted just as fast, twisting his hand mid-motion,
The blade changed direction instantly.
A feint.
It vanished from Ashan's front and reappeared at his side, cutting toward his waist.
But,
He was too slow.
Ashan's body had already moved.
He pivoted smoothly, his motion flowing in a tight arc as the blade passed by, his palm striking it at just the right angle to disrupt its rotation,
and in the same motion,
He drove the Rasengan forward.
Boom…!
The impact exploded outward.
The massive blade cracked under the pressure and shattered completely as Ashan followed through with a sharp kick, scattering the fragments across the arena.
Einar's eyes widened.
'He… broke it?'
Ashan shook his hand slightly, glancing up at him with mild disappointment.
"The 'monster slayer,' huh?" he said casually. "Doesn't look that impressive to me."
As the blade shattered,
The technique collapsed with it.
Draven stood frozen for a moment, his eyes locked onto the shattered remains of Einar's blade as realization slowly sank in, his expression tightening with both shock and excitement.
'It's that same technique…'
His fingers curled into a fist unconsciously.
'No wonder… he used it against the lava monster during the raid. That wasn't just brute force… it was a calculated move, something meant to catch the opponent off guard at the perfect moment.'
His breathing steadied as his thoughts sharpened.
'If he can do it… then it's not impossible. Even if I can't replicate it completely, creating something similar, something that carries even a fraction of that destructive precision… would change everything in close combat.'
A spark lit in his eyes.
I need to study this… properly.
Not far from him, Silas's reaction was entirely different.
His brows furrowed deeply, gaze fixed on Ashan with growing suspicion rather than admiration, his mind replaying the moment of destruction again and again, dissecting it from every possible angle.
'This doesn't add up…'
His jaw tightened.
'Why destroy the blade like that? That technique.. the invisible long-range slash.. would've been faster, cleaner, and far more efficient.'
His eyes narrowed slightly.
'He chose the harder method on purpose… why?'
A pause.
'Is he hiding something? Or does he simply not want to reveal certain abilities in front of this many eyes?'
Silas exhaled slowly, irritation mixing with unease.
'That masked bastard… what exactly are you thinking?'
Above the arena, Einar's expression had completely changed.
The shock from seeing his blade shattered had already begun to fade, replaced by something far more volatile as his eyes burned with rising fury, the muscles along his jaw tightening as his breathing grew heavier with each passing second.
'He destroyed it…'
His grip tightened, nails digging into his palm.
'My blade… this fucking bastard…'
A thick stream of smoke escaped from his mouth as he exhaled, the heat building within his chest becoming visible, tangible, as if something inside him was preparing to erupt.
Without another word, he descended slightly, closing the distance just enough for his presence to press down over the battlefield like a weight.
"Take this…" he said, his voice low, strained beneath the heat building in his throat.
"…as my appreciation."
He drew in a deep breath.
The air itself seemed to distort as it rushed into him, the temperature rising sharply in an instant,
Then,
Whoooosh…!
A massive torrent of blue flames exploded from his mouth, surging forward like a raging tide before expanding violently mid-air, tripling in size as it devoured everything in its path, the sheer heat warping the space around it as the flames spread outward and downward, swallowing the battlefield whole.
The ground vanished beneath the inferno.
The air trembled.
And within a single breath, Ashan was completely engulfed.
His figure disappeared into the blazing sea of fire.