'Incredible.' The thought rippled through my mind, unbidden, as my Hollow Eclipse clashed with Lucifer's Cocytus's Descent. The impact radiated outward, sending shockwaves that rattled the arena's reinforced barriers, leaving the crowd gasping at the sheer scale of the collision.
The current Cocytus's Descent was far beyond what Lucifer should have been capable of. It wasn't just his mana rank—though that had undeniably grown—it was his emotions, the weight behind his movements. They weren't hollow techniques born of talent alone. This was something forged in struggle, refined by doubt, loss, and the quiet fury of self-discovery.
Yes, this Lucifer Windward stood worlds apart from the Lucifer of the novel I knew at the same age. Even though the Lucifer of the novel had unlocked his second Gift by now, he had not tasted the depths of despair or clawed his way out with raw determination.
I felt the faintest flicker of pride in him—a rival worth meeting on equal ground.
My Hollow Eclipse dissipated his Cocytus's Descent, but not unscathed. The strain reverberated up my blade, the opposing force nearly shattering the precision of my astral energy. His strength was undeniable. It wasn't the polished lethality of an Immortal-rank opponent, but it had the weight of inevitability.
Lucifer was nearing the peak of Ascendant-rank, and that without any powerful artifacts. He was fighting with his raw strength, his skill honed sharper than ever. In sheer growth over the past year, he had outpaced me.
I smiled. It was genuine, a small curl of the lips that betrayed nothing but exhilaration. He deserved to face me at my full strength.
Light magic flared around me, a radiant halo that bent the shadows of the arena into submission. My body steadied, muscles coiled with purpose. The crowd, now silent, seemed to hold its collective breath.
I moved.
God Flash: Absolute.
The world blurred as my form disappeared, reappearing in an instant with my sword poised to strike. The blinding arc of my blade surged forward, a comet streaking through the battlefield.
Lucifer's eyes, glowing faintly with the power of God's Eyes, tracked me with an eerie calm. His armor of astral energy, infused with six elements, pulsed. He didn't retreat. He didn't hesitate.
He stepped into me.
The ground beneath his feet froze solid, jagged ice spikes erupting around him. Then, with a sharp exhale, his astral energy flared to its zenith. It wasn't just ice this time. Streams of fire, lightning, wind, earth, and light wove themselves into the frost, creating a kaleidoscopic storm that enveloped his sword.
This wasn't the standard third movement of Myth of Northern Peak. This was something transformed, elevated.
Frozen Zenith.
The technique, once a pure expression of ice mana, had become a symphony of elements. Each one danced in harmony, amplifying the raw destructive force of the ice while adding layers of complexity and lethality. The battlefield around him changed, frost creeping out like sentient tendrils while currents of fire and lightning crackled ominously within.
He met my God Flash: Absolute head-on, his sword swinging upward to intercept my strike.
The clash was a storm.
My light magic surged against the elemental chaos of his astral energy, the impact splitting the air with a deafening roar. The sheer force of our collision forced the crowd back in their seats, protective barriers straining under the pressure. Sparks of light and shards of ice scattered like a blizzard caught in sunlight.
For a moment, the world itself seemed to teeter.
Then I saw it. The faintest hesitation in Lucifer's stance, the split-second faltering as his elemental symphony wavered under the relentless precision of my strike. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
The fragments of Lucifer's Frozen Zenith dissolved into the air, the remnants of his technique scattering like snow in a tempest. His grip on his blade tightened, and despite the strain etched on his face, his verdant eyes blazed with defiance.
I didn't relent. My astral energy surged as I pressed forward, my blade slicing through the frosted air. Light mana rippled along its edge, every swing imbued with a precision that sought out gaps in his formidable defense. Lucifer met each attack head-on, his blade an extension of his will, deflecting, parrying, countering. Sparks of raw power ignited with every clash, illuminating the arena in bursts of light and shadow.
His movements were sharp, calculated, honed to perfection. His God's Eyes tracked my every move, predicting, adapting. But my Tempest Dance Technique was relentless, weaving strikes and counters into a rhythm too unpredictable to fully grasp. Each swing of my blade pushed him closer to the edge, his defenses straining under the sheer weight of my assault.
Lucifer growled, stepping back as his astral energy flared anew. He spun his blade, elemental mana pouring from him in waves. The temperature plummeted, frost coating the ground around us, as his ice mana took the forefront once more. But this time, it wasn't alone—fire and lightning, wind and earth, even the faint shimmer of gravity joined in the storm that surrounded him.
I braced myself as the storm intensified. His Sword Heart beat like a war drum, channeling his mana into something even greater. Then, with a roar, Lucifer raised his sword high.
The fourth movement of the Myth of Northern Peak: Avalanche Tempest, exploded outward. A storm of ice and astral energy descended, a deluge of strikes so numerous they blurred into a single overwhelming force. The ground beneath us cracked under the strain, the very air alive with chaos.
I moved, Mythic Transplant reinforcing my legs as I shot through the storm. My blade flashed as I parried and deflected the incoming strikes, each clash reverberating through my arms. But even with my speed and precision, the sheer volume of his assault was staggering. I could feel the weight of it pressing down, threatening to consume me.
No more.
I exhaled, calming my racing thoughts, and let my astral energy surge. Light and gravity intertwined, their combined power resonating through my Sword Heart. My blade began to glow, a brilliant radiance that seemed to defy the storm.
The third movement of my art, Stellar Cascade, roared to life. Stars seemed to shimmer around me as I stepped forward, each swing of my blade unleashing a torrent of astral energy. It wasn't a single strike—it was a cascade, a relentless barrage that met Lucifer's storm head-on.
Our techniques collided in a symphony of destruction. My stars clashed against his tempest, light against frost, gravity against the fury of six elements. The arena shook, the air splitting with the force of our strikes. I could feel the strain in my body, the toll of maintaining such power, but I pushed through.
Lucifer's storm began to falter, the precision of his movements waning under the relentless pressure of Stellar Cascade. I could see it in his eyes—the determination, the refusal to yield. But I could also see the cracks forming in his defense.
I stepped forward, closing the gap between us. His blade swung in desperation, seeking to counter my advance, but I was faster. My sword arced downward, a star descending, and struck his blade with a force that shattered the remnants of his technique.
Lucifer staggered, his grip faltering as he struggled to hold his ground. I didn't give him the chance to recover. Mythic Transplant surged into my right arm, and I drove my fist into his chest, sending him crashing to the ground.
The arena fell silent as the dust settled. Lucifer lay on the ground, his sword beside him, his breathing heavy but steady. Slowly, he pushed himself up onto one knee, his gaze meeting mine.
"That was... incredible," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
The referee's voice rang out, breaking the tension. "Winner: Arthur Nightingale!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, but I barely heard them.
'Thank you Lucifer,' I thought as I smiled, 'I found a way to grow even more now.'