'In front of you, thirty meters, incoming from the right,' Luna's voice chimed in my mind, her tone calm but insistent.
Without hesitation, I channeled the full power of the qilin into my right arm using Mythic Transplant. The familiar sensation of raw strength coursed through me as my body adapted to the sudden surge. Hollow Eclipse spiraled into motion, wrapping around my Eclipse Blade like a burning halo. My strike tore through the air, aimed with deadly precision.
A Vampire Elder emerged from the shadows, his blade pulsing with the resonant hum of his Sword Heart. His night astral energy flickered around him, dark and foreboding, but I could see the faint flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He had sensed me, yes—but not quickly enough.
Our swords met with a deafening crash, the clash of astral energies sending shockwaves through the surrounding air. His blade cracked under the pressure of my strike, his footing faltering as he was forced back, his expression shifting from confidence to alarm.
That was all the opening I needed.
I vanished.
First movement: God Flash.
There was no need for the intricate two-movement version against someone of his caliber. In a single, fluid strike, I tore through his defenses, my blade carving through his body with blinding speed. The sharp tang of burning flesh filled the air as my light magic ravaged him from within, obliterating the black mana in his veins. Light and dark were natural opposites, and against creatures of black mana, my light magic wasn't just a weapon—it was an executioner.
"Did you think you could escape?" I muttered, my voice low, almost curious, as his body convulsed under the onslaught.
But I wasn't done.
Channeling fire mana into my palm, I crafted a spell as destructive as it was elegant. Flames spiraled outward, forming a radiant wheel.
Seven-circle spell: Revolving Wheel of Fire.
The wheel tore through the air, a spinning inferno of pure destruction. To his credit, the Vampire Elder managed to intercept the spell with his night astral blade, the impact causing an explosion of embers and smoke that temporarily obscured my view.
Not that it mattered.
My sword flickered, splitting into a dozen spectral blades. Then a hundred. Each one shimmered with killing intent, each strike an extension of my will.
He flailed, his movements growing more erratic as I systematically dismantled his swordsmanship. His stance faltered, and his defenses crumbled under the relentless assault. I watched him leave his right flank open—a fatal mistake.
With Mythic Transplant now focused on my left arm, I surged forward, channeling raw astral energy into a single, devastating punch.
BOOM!
The impact sent him hurtling through the air, his body crashing into a nearby hill with enough force to shatter stone. Dust and debris erupted in a cloud around him, but the lingering sparks of light magic clinging to his form told me the damage had been done.
"Are you really at peak Ascendant-rank?" I called out, my voice dripping with disdain as I strode toward him. The Vampire Elder stirred weakly, his confidence utterly shattered.
He was strong—far stronger than someone like Nolan Wright at the same rank—but he wasn't enough. There was a vast difference between reaching the pinnacle of Ascendant-rank and mastering it. The vampire in front of me, while formidable, was still adjusting to his newfound power.
'He's like you—a recent breakthrough,' Luna's voice murmured, cutting through my thoughts.
She was right. There's a period after ascension when power surges, but control lags behind. Unlike me, whose breakthrough had forced harmony between my abilities, he was a fractured mirror—powerful but unfocused.
The battle had been won before it started.
"Tedious," I muttered under my breath, shifting into the practiced stance for another God Flash. This was it—a finishing blow to end a battle that had dragged on longer than my patience could endure.
In a burst of radiant light, I disappeared, reappearing just past the vampire as though I had merely strolled to the other side. A moment later, his head separated cleanly from his shoulders, falling to the ground with a dull thud.
"Aren't vampires supposed to be good at fighting?" I mused aloud, my tone laced with irritation.
Luna materialised beside me, her diminutive form shimmering faintly with a constellation of mana. "He was good at fighting, Arthur," she corrected, her voice carrying a note of reproach as her galaxy-like eyes studied me. "That vampire was one of the strongest Vampire Elders. Few of his rank could match his swordsmanship."
"Then this is how far I've come," I replied, rolling my shoulder as though shaking off the weight of the battle. "I didn't even need to push myself to the limit against him."
"Precisely," she said, her tone even, though her gaze softened ever so slightly. A hum of light mana emanated from her as she extended a tiny hand. The soothing energy washed over me, knitting together any lingering injuries. Luna wasn't as adept as Rachel when it came to healing—her capabilities were limited by my own—but she still surpassed what I could manage for myself.
"You're stronger now than most would dare dream to be," she added, her voice tinged with quiet pride. "But don't let that lull you into complacency. Strength invites greater challenges, and there are forces in this world that will still make you feel like a speck of dust."
Her words weren't new to me, but they landed differently after a fight like this. "I know," I said simply.
"Then let's head back," Luna suggested, her healing finished as she flicked her amethyst hair behind her. "Spring break is just around the corner, isn't it?"
I nodded, my gaze drifting toward the horizon. Spring break meant the Tower of Alchemy—a place where potential and peril were two sides of the same coin. A place I'd planned for, trained for, yet knew would demand even more of me.
A breeze passed, carrying the faint scent of battle away. I sheathed my sword, the weight of it as much a reminder as a comfort.
"Let's go," I said, my voice steady but my thoughts already leaping ahead to the trials waiting for me.
The battle—when three Radiant-rankers clashed with Alyssara Velcroix—had sent ripples across the war, reshaping its very fabric.
For one, Alyssara had unveiled her true power. Facing three of humanity's mightiest on equal footing, she fought them to a stalemate. But I knew better. That display of strength wasn't her limit; it was a curtain drawn just wide enough to terrify.
The consequences were immediate and profound. The Eastern continent's once-overwhelming advance ground to a halt. The reason was simple: the three Radiant-rankers, once unchallenged and unstoppable, could no longer march unopposed through enemy lines, cleaving armies with impunity. Alyssara's presence had shifted the balance entirely. She wasn't merely an obstacle; she was a counterbalance—a force strong enough to neutralise humanity's finest.
Now, the war teetered on the edge of a strange and uneasy equilibrium. The momentum of victory had slowed to a crawl, and the certainty of conquest dissipated like mist under a rising sun.
But in truth, the entire theater of war had shrunk to the scope of a single duel: the battle between Magnus Draykar and Caladros von Noctis. Two titans locked in a seemingly endless struggle.
They had clashed many times over the past year, each engagement an earthquake on the battlefield. Their fights were so cataclysmic that not even Radiant-rankers dared intervene. Both sides knew the stakes. Neither Magnus nor Caladros could afford interference, and so their arena remained theirs alone.
The pauses in their battles were as deliberate as their strikes. They fought, withdrew to recover, and returned to their dance of death—again and again. It had become a grim spectacle, a relentless cycle of destruction and rebirth. The world watched, breath held, as if the outcome of this singular contest would dictate the fate of the war itself.
Everyone else believed this battle to be the deciding factor, the fulcrum upon which the entire conflict rested.
'Magnus must have reached an even higher level if he hasn't lost,' I mused, my thoughts lingering on the indomitable figure of Magnus Draykar. If he could stand toe-to-toe with Caladros von Noctis for so long, it could only mean one thing: Magnus had pushed himself to the absolute peak of mid Radiant-rank.
Now, the world watched, breathless, for the inevitable next step. Between them, who would be the first to break through to the realm of transcendence? That unfathomable chasm between mid Radiant and high Radiant-rank, a step so monumental that only two humans in the annals of history had ever crossed it.
Yet, the gates of transcendence did not open for mere effort or raw power. They required something far more elusive: an understanding that defied the boundaries of the mortal soul.
But for me? Such concerns were distant. Transcendence was a horizon beyond my current reach, a summit I couldn't yet glimpse. I was still climbing the mountains at the base of greatness, far from the pinnacles others had already glimpsed.
My path took me back to Mount Hua sect, the familiar surroundings welcoming me as I passed through the gates. The disciples no longer questioned my presence; my reputation and my deeds had made me a figure well-known within these walls. Yet, I still carried Seraphina's insignia—a token not of necessity but of sentiment.
As I approached, my pace slowed, my gaze locking onto an unexpected sight. Mo stood with Seraphina at his side, the two of them locked in what appeared to be a heated conversation. Seraphina's ice-blue eyes burned with a fire that could melt glaciers as she caught sight of me.
"Arthur," she said, striding toward me with a purposeful intensity that made my instincts flare.
"What is it?" I asked, tilting my head in confusion.
Before I could react, she grabbed me by the collar, her strength belying her usually composed demeanor. "You," she hissed, her voice a storm barely contained. "You didn't call for two months."
I blinked, the accusation landing like a blow. "What?"
Mo's expression was far more measured, though his eyes betrayed a similar frustration. "Arthur," he said, his voice firm. "Where have you been for two months? We tried to find you, but you vanished without a trace."
Two months? I felt my brow furrow as their words sank in. Two months? My mind raced, sifting through the haze of recent battles and training, searching for any gaps.