Glo roared.
His body surged with reckless force.
»Ecstatic Overdrive« triggered.
Pain converted to power.
Speed increased.
Strength rose—
Still not enough.
Cuts accumulated.
Not deep.
Not fatal.
But constant. Relentless. Disruptive.
His movements grew erratic. Unstable.
Nubrus attempted to reposition—
To find an opening—
To create distance—
But there was none.
Every path—was intercepted.
Every angle—closed.
Every action—countered before completion.
The convergence of slashes continued.
Unbroken. Unforgiving.
Null's heart burned.
Mana drained violently.
His vision sharpened beyond human limits—
Then began to strain.
But he didn't stop.
He couldn't stop.
The first sequence ended—
And before the air could even settle—
He stepped again.
✦ Star Burst Stream
Another surge. Another eruption.
✦ 100 Hit Combo - Second Sequence
The clearing shattered once more.
Blades became light. Light became lines. Lines became an endless web of slashes—layered—stacked—overlapping.
Glo snarled.
His muscles screamed. His nerves were on fire. His body—already damaged—now pushed further.
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
Each block heavier than the last. Each deflection slower—by fractions. Tiny. But real.
Nubrus adjusted again.
»Stillpoint Execution« triggered—again—and again—
Short bursts of perfect reaction—barely holding the line.
But even those windows—were shrinking.
Because the assault never stopped.
Seconds became dozens. Dozens became minutes.
One minute.
The storm didn't slow. Didn't thin. Didn't weaken.
Two minutes.
The clearing had become a cage of blades. No safe zone. No still point. No escape.
Glo's breathing turned ragged. His grin long gone. His eyes wide—strained—forced to track an impossible rhythm.
"What… the hell is this—?!"
CLANG.
Another hit deflected. Barely.
Nubrus' composure had long since fractured. Not outwardly—but internally. His thoughts were no longer clean. No longer precise. They were being overloaded.
This level of output… This consistency… This control… Impossible.
Another sequence. Another hundred.
Then—another.
Null's body trembled. His muscles screamed. His mind burned like it was being torn apart from the inside.
Mana—gone. Almost gone.
Yet he forced more. Dragged more. Squeezed every last fragment.
Just a little more. Just a little more.
The final sequence surged.
Slower than the previous ones—but denser. More desperate. More absolute.
Then—it ended.
The blades stopped. The light vanished. The storm of slashes collapsed.
Silence.
Null's swords slipped from his hands.
His body swayed—
Then dropped.
Knees hit the ground. Hard.
"Hah…" A quiet, exhausted breath.
His chest rose and fell unevenly. Breathing rough. Unstable.
His vision flickered. Blurring at the edges.
Across from him—Glo stood.
Barely.
His body was covered in cuts. Shallow. Numerous. Blood seeped through his torn clothing. His black cloak—half-soaked. His breathing—heavy. Uncontrolled.
"Haah… haah…"
His grip on his dagger trembled slightly.
Nubrus stood a few steps behind. His posture still upright—but strained. His breathing controlled—but forced. His silver hair clung faintly to his face. His cloak—also marked. Also cut. Also stained.
Both of them—alive. But only just holding together.
For several seconds—neither moved. Because their bodies—were still reacting. Still defending. Still expecting the next strike.
But it never came.
Reality returned slowly. Like waking from a nightmare—or falling out of a trance.
Glo blinked. Once. Twice.
"What… was that…?" His voice came out hoarse. Unsteady.
Nubrus said nothing. But his eyes—locked onto Null. Sharper than ever before. Not with arrogance. Not with calm calculation. But with something new.
Cold Recognition. Of something Dangerous.
Meanwhile—at the center—Null remained on his knees. Breathing. Barely. But conscious. Aware. And annoyed.
Damn it. His thoughts dragged slowly. Heavy. Even after all that… not a single critical hit.
A faint irritation flickered through his exhaustion.
Is my luck just that shitty? Or—is the stat gap that high?
He let out a weak sigh.
If only they were D-rank… instead of C-rank… I would've dealt at least multiple critical hits. Minimum.
His head tilted slightly downward. Hair falling over his eyes.
Annoying.
Despite everything—despite pushing beyond his limits—despite bending his own capabilities to the breaking point—he hadn't been able to do much damage.
And now—his mana was depleted. His body was done.
And the two assassins—were still standing.
---
※
---
Glo's head snapped up.
Then—he roared.
A raw, guttural sound tore out of his throat.
"AAAAAAHHHH—!!"
A violent red aura began to seep out of his body. Not metaphorically—visibly. Like heat bleeding off steel. Like rage given form.
»Ecstatic Overdrive«—still active. Still feeding. Still twisting and amplifying.
His wounds—his pain—his humiliation—all of it—fuel.
His already unstable breathing grew harsher. More erratic. More animalistic.
"You…" His voice cracked. Not with weakness—but with something far worse.
A violent snarl escaped his lips as he caught sight of Null, who was still on his knees.
"You… weakling…"
His body moved. No warning. No buildup. Just—gone.
Then—impact.
A blur crossed the distance in an instant—and—
THUD.
His foot slammed into Null's torso. Brutal. Unrestrained.
The force alone—enough to rupture air. Enough to break bone.
Null's body lifted off the ground—then was sent flying.
CRASH—
His back crashed into a tree. The trunk cracked audibly. Leaves shook violently. Fragments of bark scattered. Null's body bounced once—then dropped.
A dull, heavy collapse.
"Kgh—!"
Blood burst from his mouth. Dark. Thick. It spilled across his lips—splattering across his chin—staining the pale strands of his dark-white hair.
For a brief second—his vision went completely white.
Then—black.
Then—flickering. Unstable.
His body didn't respond. Not properly. Not anymore.
Inside—his mind was currently under heavy mental strain. Due to the side effects of connecting with »Omniscient Link« and synchronizing with a portion of its Omniscient Cognization.
Thoughts overlapped. Sensations lagged. Perception fractured. Consciousness flickered—threatening to slip.
Glo's voice—barely registered. Didn't reach him. Nor did he care to.
"A weakling like you—!" Glo's voice shook with fury. His body trembled as he stepped forward again. "You—!"
His dagger pointed toward Null.
"Do you have any idea how infuriating this is?!" Glo screamed, his face a mask of disbelief twisted into a snarl. His body radiated the red aura, a clear sign of his unchecked rage. "A weakling like you managing to hurt me—who do you think you are?!"
His grin returned—but it was wrong. Too wide. Too strained. Too broken.
He touched the cuts across his body. Shallow. Numerous. Real.
"I actually bled because of you…"
A short laugh escaped him. Then another. Then—laughter. Unhinged. Louder.
"You're nothing!"
His voice rose again.
"You should be weaker than me—!"
"And yet—" His grin twisted. "You made me defend… Me. Defend."
Each word came out sharper. More distorted. More unstable.
"Do you know how humiliating this is?" He tilted his head. Eyes wild. "It means you embarrassed me."
His voice dropped. Low. Dangerous.
"And I really, really hate being embarrassed."
A step forward. Then another. Slow now. Deliberate.
"I was supposed to carve you up slowly…"
His tone shifted. Almost thoughtful.
"I planned to kill you quickly…" A pause. Then—"But now?"
His grip tightened. Veins bulging.
"I'll make sure to torture you before killing you!!"
Another step—
But—a presence appeared beside him.
Silent. Controlled.
Nubrus.
He didn't speak immediately. His eyes first swept over Glo's condition. The cuts. The breathing. The instability.
Then—he reached into his cloak. Pulled out a vial. Uncorked it. Drank. Once. Twice. Measured. Efficient.
Only after that—did he speak.
"Glo—" Flat. As always.
Glo clicked his tongue. "What now?" Annoyed. Still breathing heavily.
Nubrus ignored the tone. His gaze shifted briefly toward the direction of the forest.
"I will go deal with his teammates." A pause. "That is if they haven't yet reached the main road."
"Yeah, just." Glo replied with irritation. Direct. No hesitation.
Nubrus continued, not caring about his responses. His voice sharpened.
"You will finish the target." A beat. Then—more deliberate. "Do not take unnecessary time."
Glo's brow twitched. Irritation surfacing immediately.
Nubrus continued anyway.
"Be cautious." A slight narrowing of his eyes. "He might still have additional contingencies. So make sure to kill quickly."
Another pause.
"And avoid indulging in prolonged torture."
Nubrus knew Glo wouldn't listen, but he still said it anyway.
That—finally—triggered Glo.
"Tch—!" His expression twisted. "You're seriously telling me that?" He jabbed a finger toward Null's crumpled form. "This weak piece of shit—actually made me bleed—gave us trouble and injuries—and you want me to just kill him quickly?!"
His grin returned. Sharp. Unstable.
"Impossible." A low laugh escaped him. "I will torture him. Otherwise, I won't be content."
Nubrus watched him for a moment. Silently. Coldly. Evaluating.
Then—he turned away.
"Do as you wish." Flat. Unmoved. "I have stated what is necessary."
A step forward.
"If you fail to understand the risk even after this…" A slight pause. "Then any unexpected outcome is your responsibility."
No emotion. No judgment. Just fact.
For a brief moment—his gaze flicked toward Null.
There was something there. Faint. Subtle. Not fear. Not hesitation. But—consideration.
If it were up to him—he would have killed the target immediately. As a true assassin. Eliminated uncertainty.
But—he knew Glo. And with his violent nature—he wouldn't be allowed. Not after this. Not after the damage. Not after the humiliation.
So—he didn't interfere.
"I will proceed."
His presence began to fade. Slowly. Then rapidly. Then—gone.
»Erased Presence«.
Disappearing into the woodland—toward the main road. Toward the escaping team.
Leaving behind—a blood-soaked clearing. A broken target. And a grinning monster.
Glo exhaled slowly. Then turned fully toward Null. His eyes gleamed.
"Now…" A step forward. Slow. Measured. "Where were we?"
Null wasn't in a state to reply. He was struggling with his blurry consciousness.
Glo gave a crazy smirk and stalked forward toward Null, fueled by an overwhelming urge for vengeance.
He raised his dagger—
And plunged it down.
A wet, sickening slice echoed.
The blade severed through flesh—clean. Brutal.
Null's right hand fell.
Crimson sprayed outward. Hot. Violent. Painting the ground—painting Glo's face.
Glo inhaled sharply. Eyes widening—not in shock—but in anticipation.
He waited.
Grinned.
Tilted his head.
Listening.
Waiting for it—that scream. That breaking sound. That desperate cry of pain.
Yet nothing.
Five seconds. Ten.
Heavy silence.
Glo's grin slowly faded. His brows furrowed.
"What?"
His eyes twitched. Annoyance crept in. Then irritation. Then anger.
He clicked his tongue.
"Tch."
His foot lashed out—
CRACK.
It slammed into Null's head—snapping it upward violently.
"Fuck—" His voice snapped. "Why aren't you screaming, weakling?!"
Null's face tilted upward now. Blood traced along his lips. His dark-red eyes—visible. Clear. Yet—not stable.
The sheen within them flickered. Fading. Returning. Breaking apart. Like a dying signal. Like a mind slipping away.
Consciousness—tethering between awareness and void.
Glo stared.
For a moment—confused.
"What the hell…"
Irritation twisted his face again.
Then—something else crept in.
His gaze sharpened. Fixed.
A sudden jealousy coiled in him. Despite his bloody, weakened state, Null's unbelievably beautiful face didn't diminish one bit.
"Damn you!!" His expression darkened. Ugly. Filled with envy.
"Tch—!"
His foot slammed again. Then again. Then again.
CRACK. THUD. CRACK.
"Come on, bastard—!"
Kick. "Scream!"
Kick. "Cry like the pathetic weakling you are—!"
Kick. "Are you deaf?!"
Kick. "SCREAM, DAMN IT!!"
His voice rose—unstable. Deranged.
"Only when prey screams—"
Kick.
"In fear—"
Kick.
"In pain—"
Kick.
"In despair—"
Kick.
"That's when it feels good!"
His grin stretched—mad. Twisted.
"THAT'S the greatest euphoria of torturing living creatures!!"
With each kick, intensity surged.
Minutes passed. Blow after blow. Relentless. Cruel. Unrestrained.
And yet—nothing changed.
No struggle. No resistance. No scream. No reaction.
Just—a body. Taking it. Enduring it. Without meaning. Without response.
Slowly—Glo stopped.
Breathing heavily. Chest rising—falling—erratic.
His eyes narrowed.
Finally—he noticed.
That light. In those eyes. Faint. Dimming.
"I see…" His voice lowered slightly. A realization creeping in. "I see. No wonder…" A scoff. "You actually became unconscious."
He clicked his tongue again.
"Tch. How much of a weakling can you be?"
A pause. Then a glance at the surroundings—at the wasted clearing—at the aftermath of that storm.
"...Or is it because of whatever absurd attack you pulled off earlier?"
A brief silence. Then—he shrugged.
"Whatever."
He stepped back, irritation bubbling into manic laughter.
"The reason doesn't matter."
His gaze returned to Null.
"The important thing is—" A step closer. "There's no point in torture… if the prey doesn't scream." Another step. "Or if it's already dead."
A pause. Then—a grin returned. Crooked. Cruel.
"So I'll do you a favor."
He reached into his storage. Pulled out a small container. Paste-type recovery potion. Faintly glowing.
Without hesitation—he splashed it across Null's face.
The substance spread—seeping into skin. Cooling. Stabilizing. Suppressing. Not healing—just enough.
Just enough to pull him back. Just enough to anchor his mind.
The flickering in Null's eyes—slowed. Stabilized.
The dimming—stopped.
A breath. Shallow—but real.
Inside—thoughts resumed. Fragments reconnecting. Signals aligning. Focus returning—slowly.
Then—his gaze lifted. Locked onto Glo.
And—he spoke.
"Ah?" A faint tilt of his head. "You still haven't killed me?" He croaked, voice weak but laced with sardonic amusement. "How much of a lowly half-baked assassin can you be?"
Silence. For half a second.
Then—Glo froze.
His eyes widened. Shock—pure. Unfiltered.
The words cut through Glo's mania like ice water.
"You…" His lips trembled. "You… weakling…" His expression twisted violently. "Are you insane?!" His voice rose again. "Instead of begging for your life—you want me to kill you that badly?!"
Null blinked once. Slow. Unbothered.
"How am I insane?" His voice remained steady. Detached. "No matter how you look at it—you're the insane one here." His gaze didn't waver. "A psychopath who indulges in brutal violence."
"You—!!" Glo's face contorted. "How dare you say I'm insane?!"
His leg lashed out again—
THUD.
Null's body shifted slightly—but he didn't react. Didn't flinch. Didn't even tense.
"Of course," Null continued, voice unchanged, "an insane person doesn't have the brain juice to admit they're insane."
A pause. Then—
"If you want proof…" A faint, almost imperceptible smirk formed. "…ask 'them'."
Glo stiffened. "Them?" His eyes flicked around. Sharp. Alert. Scanning. But sensed nothing beyond their twisted confrontation.
The forest was—silent. Empty. No presence. No movement. Nothing.
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Null's gaze didn't shift. "The beings beyond the fourth wall." A pause. "Half-baked."
Glo's confusion deepened. "Beings… beyond the fourth wall. What the hell are you spouting?"
Null exhaled softly. "No need to strain your brain. You'll never understand." His voice lowered slightly. "Because this is a secret known only to a specific category…" A faint pause. "…known as 'Dark entities'."
Glo snapped. Frustration boiling over.
"Damn it! What the fuck…?"
Frustrated at being played, his leg lashed out—
CRASH.
The tree behind Null shattered. Splintering apart under the force. Wood fragments scattered. Dust rose.
Glo exhaled heavily.
Then—slowly—he brought his daggers together.
CLANG.
The sound rang sharp. Clean.
His grin returned. Wide. Anticipating.
"Doesn't matter." His voice dropped. "Now that you're awake…" A step forward. "I can finally enjoy torturing you."
---
※