The ground vibrated beneath them, a brief but brutal tremor.Then, without warning, Nyros vanished.He reappeared in front of Arzyel, moving at blinding speed.The impact didn't come immediately—it was the ground that gave in first.A wave of pressure exploded beneath Nyros' foot, fracturing the stone into a violent web. The slabs lifted, some shattering into sharp fragments thrown into the air. Dust erupted in a dense cloud, swallowing the light, while the ground sank slightly under the impact, as if bending under a force too great for it to bear.
The wind of the attack brushed past Arzyel.Instinctively, he opened his right eye for a fraction of a second and activated maximum adhesion.
Everything slowed.The trajectory of the foot.The contraction of the muscles.The compressed air, now almost visible, vibrating like a tensioned membrane.And above all—the cracks spreading beneath their feet.
Each of Nyros' impacts sent fractures racing through the stone, twisting outward, branching unpredictably. Pieces of the ground detached, slid, then pulverized under repeated pressure.
The vibration rose through Arzyel's legs, into his bones.Not a simple shock.A resonance.
Every detail.Every flaw.His mind analyzed the attack like a living lesson.
The shadow veil trembled under Nyros' strikes, but that wasn't all—it was eroding.With each hit, fragments of shadow detached, scattering like ash in the energy-filled air. The impact wasn't only affecting matter—it was biting into the very structure of power itself.
Arzyel stepped back, step by step.Not to flee.To control.
Beneath his feet, the stone creaked. Wherever he stepped, extreme friction briefly stabilized the ground… but the moment he moved, the surface collapsed, crumbling, unable to withstand the tension.
One of Nyros' strikes missed Arzyel by a breath—but hit the ground instead.
The explosion was violent.A crater opened instantly, the stone pulverized into a perfect circle, sending shards and dust into a brutal rain. The shockwave swept through the space, pushing the air away in a burning breath, making nearby structures tremble.
The ground was no longer terrain.It was a field of unstable ruins.
Cracks opened.Entire slabs collapsed.Every step became a gamble.
And yet—Arzyel danced in the middle of chaos.
Each strike was slowed, deflected, absorbed.Not only by his power—but by the environment he was now perfectly reading.
But his body was struggling to keep up.
He used the cracks to redirect impacts.The debris to break trajectories.The irregularities of the ground to destabilize, even for an instant, Nyros' perfect mechanical movement.
The ground roared.The air crackled.Dust suffocated the world.
And in the middle of that destruction—Arzyel was not surviving.He was learning.
Nyros stopped for barely a fraction of a second—just enough to speak.His voice didn't carry. It slipped through the chaos, low, almost swallowed by the roar of the ground.
"…I had forgotten…"
A new crack exploded under his foot.
"…your reflexes… are abnormal."
Arzyel was already starting to feel pain in his legs.He wasn't shouting.He endured.
His gaze stayed fixed on Nyros, focused, tired.
Then—he moved even faster.
The ground exploded beneath him, this time without restraint, as if he had decided to stop holding back. The stone broke deeper, revealing darker, harder layers… which still cracked under pressure.
"Let's see… how far this goes."
A breath. Almost a whisper.
And this time, the air itself seemed to tear around his movement.
Arzyel then rubbed his hands… and slowly rotated them around each other.Lightning was born.
Nyros saw it—and for the first time, didn't understand.
An arc formed, bright, unstable, crackling violently.Arzyel drew back.He fired.
The arrow struck Nyros directly.
He staggered back sharply, eyes widening, breath caught.A silence. Then a short, incredulous laugh.
"Two months… and you're already doing this…?"
He slowly raised his head, eyes locked on Arzyel.
"So… it actually helped you… being a soldier… right… archer?"
"Why aren't you using Dravorn's weapon?"
Silence.
Arzyel hadn't heard him.Every movement.Every intention.Every opening.
His retreat wasn't escape.It was preparation.
Nyros shook his head, a smile mixed with admiration.
"So… it really helped you being a soldier, huh… archer?"
Another lightning arrow fired.
Stronger. Wider.Electricity split into multiple streaks, striking ground, walls, even the air itself—illuminating the shadow veil around them. Each arrow was calculated to destabilize Nyros, slow his attacks, and test his reflexes.
Nyros launched a rapid sequence of strikes and dodges, but Arzyel's maximum adhesion slowed and redirected nearly every blow. Time itself seemed distorted in his perception.
Arzyel felt his Yin-Yang flow intensify. His lightning and friction merged, and for the first time, he wasn't just retreating to survive—he was preparing the decisive attack.
He leapt onto a wall, running almost horizontally, dodging a strike and releasing a lightning arrow, more powerful, more precise, bursting into sparks around Nyros. The impact forced him back, surprised by its precision and strength.
"You're advancing faster than I expected…" Nyros muttered, catching his breath, eyes burning with challenge.
Nyros lowered his head slightly."…He's starting to remember."
Arzyel, breathless but focused, felt explosive power rising. His lightning arrows multiplied, each retreat opening space, each deflection slowing Nyros further.
This was more than a fight. It was proof of control, instinct, and mastery.
Nyros charged again, faster and heavier, testing Arzyel's limits. But this time, Arzyel did not simply evade—he calculated. Every step, every rotation, every impact controlled by extreme friction.
He felt Nyros approaching, slowed his strikes just enough, then unleashed perfectly synchronized lightning arrows. The first hit the arm, the second the torso, the following ones exploded into sparks across ground and walls, forcing Nyros back.
Nyros, surprised, struggled under the pressure.
But then—he stopped.
He was on one knee… but not weakened.
He breathed slowly.Too slowly.
Something changed.Not his power.His control.
"Good."
His voice was different. Deeper.
The ground stopped trembling.As if it obeyed him.
Nyros raised his hand—and crushed the air.
A dull sound echoed—and all cracks around Arzyel exploded at once. Not outward. Toward him.
Arzyel reacted instantly, but the ground collapsed into chaos. A block hit his shoulder. Then another. Then—impact.
He was thrown back, rolling through dust.
Pain exploded in his body. Real. Brutal.
"…There."
Nyros was already in front of him.
"This is where it begins."
Arzyel tried to rise. Failed.
Nyros spoke calmly:"You see everything… but you can't act anymore."
"…Your body has reached its limit."
Arzyel forced himself up. Halfway.
"…Not yet."
He moved again. One last attempt.
Nyros was already there.
A hand stopped just before Arzyel's face.
Then—impact.
The world flipped.Arzyel was slammed into the ground. Silence. Void.
Nyros stepped beside him.
"You've learned how to fight."
"…But not how to survive."
Arzyel tried to move. Nothing.
A spark appeared in his hand. Then vanished.
Nyros looked at him.
"You arrived too fast."
"…Your mind follows, but your body cannot endure what you do."
Pressure fell. Not to kill. To crush. To remind.
"In a real fight…"
The ground groaned.
"…you would already be dead."
"…But I don't want to kill."
His voice was low, broken by exhaustion.
Arzyel whispered:"…But I don't want to kill."
Nyros tilted his head.
"…Do you think that's a choice?"
Silence.
"…Then you will die."
"The world doesn't make that distinction."
"…Those who want to live… and those who want to stay clean…"
"…die first."
"…One day…"
"You will lose someone you love."
"And that day…"
"You won't think about your principles."
"…You'll just want them gone."
"…And then you'll see what you really are."
"…But me… I don't want to kill."
"…Then pray you never have to choose."
"…Do you remember our old world?"
"…The place where killing wasn't a question."
"…Where surviving meant crushing others."
"…You were worse than me."
"…The best shooter… the one sent when nothing was supposed to remain."
"…Thousands? No."
"…You erased entire peoples."
"…Lies."
"…Look at yourself."
"…Instinct. Adaptation. Combat reading…"
"…That isn't learned in two months."
"…It comes back."
"…And the day you truly remember…"
"…it won't be me you fear."
"…Your 'I don't want to kill'…"
"…will disappear."
The shadow veil shattered.
Light returned. Brutal. Blinding.
The sky reappeared above them.
Arzyel lay in the ruins, barely conscious.
Nyros stood in the light.
"…The world is like this."
"…And you are like this."
"…No shadows to hide in."
Nyros turned away.
"…Next time… it will be in broad daylight."
He left.
Arzyel remained.
And then—voices.
Inside his mind.
"…protect him…"
"…he's not ready…"
"…weak…"
"…let us take control…"
"…he will die otherwise…"
His left eye trembled. A dark, unstable glow appeared. Something alive. Something conscious.