Ardam's response was not long in coming. His voice, resolute and chilling, bounced off the walls of the hut and reached Lyuna, who stood trembling outside.
"You may enter."
The rotted doors of the old shack creaked open. As Lyuna stepped inside, the air in the room nearly stole her breath. Ardam sat cross-legged on his bed, the atmospheric pressure generated by his Ancient Core electrifying the very oxygen around him. In her delicate silk robes, Lyuna looked more beautiful than ever, yet utterly vulnerable. Her face burned with a flush of shame, but her eyes held a desperate, flickering hope.
Ardam rose and stood before her. His new, towering physique cast a long shadow over the girl.
"If you entrust yourself to me, I will not only heal you," Ardam said, his voice devoid of pity, carrying only the weight of a cold promise. "I will show you what true power looks like."
Lyuna said nothing more. She threw herself into Ardam's embrace—not out of simple lust, but as a final surrender of her fate into his hands. As lips met, clothes were discarded to the corner of the room. In the moment their forms intertwined, Ardam summoned the system in his mind.
"System, how much OC is required to repair Lyuna's veins and heal her fibers?"
[DING! Full restoration: 400 OC.]
"Do it. Spend the remaining 100 OC to maximize her cultivation speed."
[DING! Commencing operations...]
In that instant, a surge of searing, euphoric energy began to pour from Ardam's body into Lyuna's. She had never felt anything like it. It felt as though her ruptured veins were being cauterized and filled with liquid gold; the agony that had plagued her for months vanished, replaced by an overwhelming tide of pleasure. An involuntary moan escaped her lips.
The Ancient Core in Ardam's heart began to resonate with Lyuna's renewing veins. Around them, a terrifying vacuum of energy formed. This vortex began to suck in all the surrounding Erta like a localized black hole.
Nature itself could not withstand the intensity. Within minutes, the shading trees surrounding the hut began to wither and turn yellow. The grass sank back into the soil, every drop of Erta within the plants ruthlessly devoured by Ardam and Lyuna. Low-flying birds and nearby insects fared no better; they dropped lifeless to the ground, their life force extinguished. Around Ardam's hut, a literal "Death Zone" took shape.
[DING! Restoration complete. All injuries healed.]
[Cultivation Speed: Increased by 30x. Duration: 4 hours.]
Throughout the night, their Erta mingled, shattering every hidden bottleneck within Lyuna's body.
Morning broke. Ardam Cray dressed himself and looked down at Lyuna, who lay in a deep, peaceful sleep on the old bed. Her face was radiant and calm. Ardam found himself recalling the past. Once, Kerun, Ardam, and Lyuna were inseparable friends. But when Ardam's cultivation stalled and he was forced to pick up a broom, Kerun had been the first to turn his back, sneering the word "trash" at every opportunity. Out of pride, Ardam had distanced himself from Lyuna without even asking her thoughts. Her father, Gelli, had furthered the gap, constantly pulling his "talented" daughter away from the "useless" Ardam.
"System, scan Lyuna."
[DING!]
Target: Lyuna (Age 25)
Status: Shadow Sword Warrior
Cultivation: 6 Erta Veins (Breakthrough!)
Erta Quantity: 500 URC
Rating: 7.3 points (↑ 0.2)
Ardam gently pushed the golden hair away from her face and touched his finger to her forehead. Her Erta flow was no longer broken; it was steady and as powerful as a deep river. Jumping from four veins to six in a single night—it was a miracle.
Leaving the hut, Ardam began the walk toward Arena 2. As he walked, he analyzed the results of his nocturnal "work."
[DING! Calculation complete!]
Target: 7.1 Rating Female (Intimate Proximity).
Female Satisfaction: 100%.
Rewards:1,100 AC (Affinity Coins)
400 OC (Opposite Coins)
New Technique: [Swift Steps]
"Interesting," Ardam mused. "So spending OC increases the target's rating. Lyuna went from 7.1 to 7.3. However, the AC reward is still heavily dependent on the target's base rating. That woman from before was 9.8 and gave 3,500 AC for a few minutes. Lyuna only gave 1,100 AC for an entire night. In the future, I must focus on higher-rated targets."
As Ardam approached Arena 2, the roar of the crowd broke his train of thought. The area was packed. Nearly every disciple, servant, and several masters of the sect were present. Everyone was waiting for the same thing: the bloody duel between the "Hidden Genius" Ardam and the eight-veined Deris.
In the crowd, he caught Kerun's gaze—a mix of shock and lingering fear. Further away, Karot and Clay sat on a majestic balcony, looking down at Ardam as if he were a sacrificial lamb already slaughtered.
When Ardam stepped onto the arena floor, the outer sect disciples—the ones who had been belittled for years, doomed to hold brooms—let out a collective roar. Their voices held more than just support; there was a thirst for a spark that might finally light up the darkness of their own lives.
But on the balcony where the inner sect disciples sat, the atmosphere was different. Cold silence and malicious stares reigned. To them, Ardam was just a fraud hiding under the label of "Hidden Genius" who didn't know his place. Ardam looked at none of them. He stood in the center of the arena, as unmoving as an ancient cliffside. His new robes fluttered in the wind, and his mere presence exerted a heavy pressure on those nearby.
The noise reached a fever pitch as Deris entered. He smirked arrogantly at the respectful cheers following him.
"Hey, Ardam!" Deris shouted, channeling Erta into his voice so it reached every corner of the arena. "Kneel now, here in front of everyone, and beg for forgiveness. If you do, I might let you go. Otherwise... you won't be leaving here on your own two feet. Your 'genius' ends in this dirt today!"
Ardam's face showed neither hate nor anger. Only a bone-chilling, icy calm.
At that moment, Master Sarto descended from the judges' seat. Each of his steps made the stone floor vibrate, and the aura radiating from him cut through the noise like a blade.
"I am the referee for this duel!" Sarto announced, his voice like iron grinding on iron. "The rules are simple: No restrictions. The fight continues until one side surrenders or dies. Are you ready?"
Deris punched his chest with his right fist. Ardam simply nodded.
"BEGIN!" Sarto cleared the arena in a single leap.
In that heartbeat, Deris moved. He activated his family's secret "Taymio" martial art. His body was instantly encased in a thick, shimmering layer of Erta. It wasn't just armor; it was power that turned every strike into an energetic explosion. He lunged with such force that the floor beneath him shattered.
"DIE, TRASH!" Deris's fist barreled toward Ardam's face, the air around the strike compressing with a howling whistle.
Ardam didn't move. At the last microsecond, with the fist inches from his nose, his eyes turned a deep purple-green. He didn't explode with the full power of the Merdun Lightning—instead, he channeled the energy through his veins like a flash of light to boost his speed and reflexes.
Ardam's body blurred like a shadow. Deris's fist cut only air, but the shockwave following the punch cracked the stone wall behind Ardam.
"Too slow," Ardam whispered.
Deris roared in fury, unleashing a barrage of strikes. Every movement was heavy and lethal. The arena stones were pulverized, sending dust into the air. Ardam danced with death, evading every blow by mere millimeters. He purposefully held back the devastating strike he had used in the abandoned field; he wasn't about to show his full hand to the eyes watching him.
"Is running all you know?!" Deris leaped back. Then choke on this!
Ermis Flame Technique!
Deris's hands glowed a searing orange. He slammed his palms into the ground, and three massive hounds made of living flame, their eyes filled with blood-lust, erupted from the earth. These weren't just flames; they were living techniques that tracked the enemy's Erta signature and exploded on contact.
The fire hounds lunged. Ardam moved across the arena like a flickering purple light. The creatures pursued him relentlessly, scorching the stone wherever they passed.
Ardam was backed into a corner. The hounds attacked simultaneously from three sides. "It's over!" Deris screamed.
An explosion rocked the arena. A pillar of flame shot into the sky. The heat was so intense that even Master Sarto squinted. A panicked silence fell over the outer sect disciples.
But as the dust and flames cleared, the crowd gasped. Ardam stood in the center of the charred ground, a single finger raised. Around him, a thin but incredibly dense shield of purple lightning flickered; any spark of flame that touched the lightning was instantly annihilated.
"Your fire couldn't even warm me," Ardam said coldly.
Deris's patience snapped. He drew a Jade Sword from his waist—a rare sect weapon that amplified the user's Erta manifold. "These are your final seconds!"
"System, I want to master Swift Steps."
[DING! Commencing... 50 AC expended.]
"Spend another 300 AC to increase mastery/experience."
[DING! Task complete. Swift Steps technique upgraded with 20 years of experience. Synchronized with Ancient Core.]
A massive influx of information poured into Ardam's brain. He felt as if he had been practicing this technique since birth. Every muscle knew exactly how to move; he knew precisely how much energy to expend as naturally as breathing.
Deris coated his blade in Ermis Flame. The sword became a shard of the sun. He charged Ardam with everything he had, combining the flame hounds with a lethal sword strike.
The Ancient Core inside Ardam began to hum with violent intensity. He balled his right hand into a fist, but this time, he didn't gather the lightning there—he directed it to his legs. The Merdun Lightning flowing through him fused with the Swift Steps.
"Swift Steps: Lightning Leap!"
Ardam vanished from sight. Deris's blade melted the air and stone where Ardam had been standing, but Ardam was gone.
"Where are you?!" Deris looked around in a panic.
"Above you," a low voice drifted down.
Ardam seemed to hover in the air. He surged the Merdun Lightning through his entire being—from his veins to his very skin cells. The air around him began to tremble, and violet-green sparks filled the entire arena. Ardam descended upon Deris.
It wasn't a physical strike; it was the ultimate peak of energetic pressure. The moment Ardam's palm met Deris's Jade Sword, the arena shook as if hit by an earthquake.
"BOOOOMM!"
A terrifying shockwave extinguished Deris's flames. The Jade Sword groaned and bent under Ardam's pressure. Deris funneled every drop of Erta in his body into the blade, but the Merdun Lightning began to burn his veins from the inside out. The purple arcs shattered the Taymio protection like glass.
"What... what is this power?!" Blood leaked from Deris's mouth.
Ardam's gaze pierced into his enemy's eyes. "This is the power of your death."
Ardam increased the pressure. Deris's legs began to shake. The stones beneath his knees cracked and he sank into the ground. He tried to resist with all his might, but the purple-green lightning in Ardam's aura physically crushed his will.
"CRACK!"
Deris's knees slammed into the stone floor with sickening force. He was kneeling. The entire arena fell into a graveyard silence. Deris—the pride of his family, the eight-veined warrior—was kneeling before the boy he called "trash."
The Jade Sword clattered to the floor. Deris's face showed not just pain, but the horror of a world collapsing. He struggled to breathe, his lungs burning from the residual Merdun energy.
Ardam looked down at him. He had won, but he knew this wasn't the end. The look on Karot and Clay's faces on the balcony had shifted from mockery to the predatory fear of a cornered beast.
Ardam lowered his hand, and the lightning around him slowly faded.
"I told you, Deris," Ardam said, his voice thundering in the silence. "To you, I am Master Ardam. If you don't wish to bow, you will die. I am no longer the weakling you once knew."
As Ardam stood proud in the dust-filled air, his gaze instinctively locked onto the luxury balcony. Karot sat there. But Karot's face didn't show pity for his fallen kinsman or even rage—he had a sudden, savage smile. It was the smile of a predator who knew the trap had just been sprung.
At that moment, a wheezing sound reached Ardam's ears through the cheers of the crowd.
"I... I haven't... surrendered yet..." Deris's voice was muffled and filled with madness, sounding as if it came from a grave.
Ardam spun around. Though Deris was still kneeling, his eyes no longer held human fear, but a delirious frenzy. The veins on his face had turned black and swollen, and the blood dripping from his mouth sizzled and evaporated the moment it hit the ground.
"You..." Deris hissed, biting the blood-soaked dirt. "You were born a nobody... and you will die a nobody!"
Deris's right hand clamped shut. In his palm was a Formation Stone, pulsing with a jagged, crimson light. This wasn't just any stone; it was a forbidden weapon imbued with a Blood Shadow formation.
Ardam sensed the danger, gathered the Merdun Lightning in his fist, and lunged forward. He intended to strike Deris and end this madness before it began. But he was a split-second too late.
Deris crushed the stone with all his strength.
"SHATTER!"
As the stone broke, horrific red patterns and bloody runes began to draw themselves across the arena floor. This was the "Bloody Shadows" formation. Within a heartbeat, the center of the arena became a vortex of reddish-black darkness. A muffled boom, like the world being swallowed, echoed out.
A blast of cold, black energy erupted from the vortex and slammed into Ardam's chest. The impact was so devastating that Ardam's body was launched through the air like a piece of paper. The purple lightning in his aura was snuffed out instantly by the black energy.
The arena fell silent once more. The cheers were replaced by cold terror. As the dust and black smoke cleared, everyone held their breath.
"ARDAAAAM!"
The scream belonged to Lyuna, who had just arrived at the arena. She stood frozen at the entrance, her eyes wide with horror. She had stayed at the tailor shop to collect her clothes and had rushed over to see Ardam's victory. Instead, she saw a blood-soaked body.
Ardam hit the stone wall at the far edge of the arena and slumped to the ground. Black blood leaked from his eyes, ears, and nose. He tried to stand, but his entire body felt as if it were being sliced by thousands of tiny knives. Every breath he took smelled of burning lead.
"Cough... cough..." As Ardam coughed, a violent spray of blood dyed his silk robes crimson.
His vision began to blur, and the sounds around him felt muffled, as if he were underwater. He tried to sense his internal Erta flow, but his veins felt like they were filled with boiling oil.
[DING!]
[WARNING!]
[CRITICAL DAMAGE: 6 Erta Veins scorched by 85%. Erta fibers fragmented.]
[STATUS: Energy usage temporarily restricted. Any attempt to channel Erta may result in total body collapse!]