The air was heavy with anticipation, thick with the unspoken tension between mother and son. Lana stood in eerie silence, her golden eyes betraying no emotion, while Lycius remained unmoving, his breath slow and steady. Vynessa, still reeling from the declaration of the duel, cast uncertain glances between them.
A sudden shift in the atmosphere broke the silence.
Elizabeth stepped forward, raising a single hand. Her eyes, pools of infinite wisdom, gleamed with an unnatural glow as she whispered the incantation.
The world trembled.
The sky darkened, as if the heavens themselves recoiled in response to Elizabeth's mystic command. A surge of violet energy spiraled outward, encasing the entire clearing in an unseen force. The ground rumbled, shifting beneath them as reality itself bent to her will. Then—without warning—everything beyond their battlefield ceased to exist.
Where once there was an endless expanse of towering trees and the whispers of the wind, there was now only darkness. A void, stretching endlessly in all directions, save for the battleground beneath them—a vast, obsidian wasteland, marked by jagged stone and cracks that pulsed with an ominous, crimson glow.
Elizabeth lowered her hand, her magic settling into place.
"This battlefield is now beyond the reach of time and space," she stated, her voice void of warmth. "No one will interfere. No force will disrupt the fight. There is no escape, no surrender."
Her gaze settled on Lycius. "Prove yourself—or be broken."
Lycius took a slow breath, his grip tightening. He could feel the weight of what was about to happen, but there was no turning back. He would win. He had to.
And so, he called forth his weapon.
A soundless force stirred around him as shadows coiled at his fingertips, rising from the cracks in the ground like living tendrils. They twisted, compressed, then took shape—solidifying into the form of a massive, wickedly curved scythe.
The moment it fully manifested, the air itself seemed to recoil.
Its blade, a jagged crescent of blackened steel, drank in the surrounding light, distorting the space around it with its unnatural presence. The handle, wrapped in strips of tanned, scaled flesh, pulsed with a sickly green glow—an eerie luminescence that whispered of decay and inevitable ruin.
The moment Lycius's fingers curled around its shaft, the aura of death thickened. The once-subtle presence of the souls lingering around him grew oppressive, their silent wails merging into a chilling symphony of the condemned.
Vynessa, despite her best efforts, shuddered.
Elizabeth merely observed in silence.
But Lana—she did not even flinch.
Her golden gaze swept over the weapon, her expression unreadable. Then, with a simple flick of her wrist, she reached behind her and drew her own weapon.
A greatsword.
Unlike Lycius's scythe, which pulsed with sinister energy, Lana's blade gleamed like molten gold, its surface etched with ancient demonic inscriptions that pulsed with raw, untamed power.
The air between them crackled.
Then—without a word—Lana vanished.
BOOM!
A shockwave exploded outward as Lana reappeared before Lycius, her greatsword already swinging toward him with inhuman speed.
Lycius barely had time to react.
Instinct screamed at him to move, and he did—his wings flaring open as he teleported a short distance away, narrowly avoiding the devastating strike.
The ground where he once stood erupted into a crater, molten rock spewing outward from the sheer force of the impact.
He reappeared a few meters away, breath caught in his throat.
She was fast. Too fast.
And then she was upon him again.
Lycius barely managed to raise his scythe in time to block the next attack. The moment their weapons clashed, a deafening roar filled the battlefield.
CRACK!
The sheer force sent Lycius flying backward, his body skidding across the jagged terrain, his grip on his scythe barely holding.
Lana didn't give him a moment to recover.
Before he could regain his footing, she was already above him, her golden eyes glowing with a cold, merciless light. She brought her greatsword down—
Lycius teleported again, reappearing in the air behind her. He swung his scythe, the blade cutting through space itself as it sought to cleave into her back.
But Lana twisted effortlessly, her sword intercepting his strike with the precision of a warrior who had lived through countless battles.
Another explosion of force.
Lycius gritted his teeth as he was forced back yet again, his arms shaking from the sheer pressure of their clash.
His mother wasn't just stronger than him—she was leagues beyond him.
His mind raced. He had allocated all of his 400,000 stat points into combat-based stats. He should be at an absurd level of strength. And yet, against her… it was as if he were nothing more than a child.
Lana took a step forward.
"You said you wanted her to stay," she murmured, voice dangerously soft.
Lycius exhaled, steadying himself. "I do."
Lana's golden gaze sharpened.
"Then fight like it."
Lycius barely registered the words before she moved again.
This time, he couldn't react in time.
BOOM!
A devastating strike slammed into his midsection, sending him crashing into the ground. The impact shattered the terrain, fissures splitting outward from the force.
His vision blurred. Pain lanced through his body.
He forced himself to rise. His scythe pulsed in his grip, whispering to him, urging him to fight.
And yet—his mother's eyes remained unimpressed.
Her disappointment was palpable.
Then, without hesitation, she turned her gaze to Vynessa.
Lycius's stomach twisted.
"This is your resolve?" Lana said, her tone calm, but there was something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface. "You challenge me to a duel for her, yet this is all you can muster?"
Lycius took a step forward. "I—"
Before he could finish, Lana raised her free hand—
And in the next instant, Vynessa was lifted into the air, an unseen force constricting around her throat.
Vynessa's eyes widened, her breath hitching as she struggled against the invisible grip.
Lycius's heart slammed against his ribs.
Lana turned her gaze back to him, her expression as cold as death itself.
"If you cannot even stand against me," she said, "then what right do you have to claim her life is worth fighting for?"
Lycius's vision blurred—not from pain, but from something much worse.
Panic.
No.
No, no, no—
Lana's grip tightened.
Vynessa gasped, her fingers clawing at her throat.
Something inside Lycius snapped.
[Curse Sin of Wrath has awakened!]
[Curse Sin of Wrath has taken effect!]
A roar unlike any before erupted from his throat, his golden eyes darkening with something primal.
His scythe pulsed, its aura expanding outward in a wave of malevolent darkness. The air itself froze, as if time had momentarily ceased.
And then—
Lycius moved.
Faster than he ever had before.
With a single thought, he reappeared directly in front of his mother, his scythe raised, the energy around him spiraling into an uncontrollable storm.
He swung.
And for the first time since the battle began—
Lana smiled.
Only if she knew—Lycius was only beginning his rampage.
---
The world turned red.
Lycius's golden eyes darkened, his irises flickering with something far beyond rage. He did not scream. He did not roar.
Instead, tears of blood trailed down his cheeks, staining his pale skin like cursed markings of sorrow. His expression remained blank—not a single sign of fury, grief, or desperation.
Just silence.
His scythe pulsed with an uncontrollable hunger, feeding on the maelstrom of devastation unraveling within him.
Then, he moved.
Like a master artist carving his masterpiece, Lycius weaved through the battlefield, his every step flawless, his every motion the embodiment of destruction itself. His scythe cleaved through space, distorting reality as waves of death rippled outward, reducing the ground beneath them to nothingness.
Lana blocked each strike, her greatsword parrying his relentless assault, but for the first time—she felt his attacks.
It wasn't power.
It wasn't skill.
It was pure, uncontrolled chaos.
Lycius was no longer fighting to win.
He was fighting to destroy.
BOOM!
He vanished, reappearing behind Lana, his scythe arcing toward her spine—only for her to twist at the last second, countering with a devastating kick to his ribs.
CRACK!
The force sent him hurtling across the battlefield, shattering rock and space alike. Before he could even land, he teleported mid-air, his body twisting unnaturally as he reappeared above her.
SHLAAK!
His scythe howled as it slashed downward, seeking blood—
CLANG!
Lana caught it with her bare hand.
For a moment, time seemed to stop.
The sheer strength in her grip sent cracks spiraling across the cursed steel of his weapon. Her golden eyes met his, unwavering, merciless—yet filled with something deeper.
Pride.
"You've done well," she murmured.
Then, before Lycius could react, her aura surged.
BOOM!
A single burst of golden energy erupted from her palm, tearing through his defenses. The impact was instant—his bones fractured, his body thrown mercilessly into the void-like abyss of the battlefield.
Lana had used 20% of her power.
Lycius's vision blurred. His body no longer responded. The world faded into darkness.
And for a moment—he felt nothing.
Silence.
Then—
A scream.
Not just a scream.
A wail that shattered the very fabric of existence.
A sound so piercing, so soul-rending, that even Lana and Elizabeth's ancient blood trembled at its presence.
Lana turned, her golden eyes narrowing—only to see something she had not foreseen.
Vynessa.
Her eyes, wide with shock, were brimming with endless, uncontrollable tears of blood. She stared at Lycius's unmoving form, her body trembling, her hands clenching her dress so tightly that her nails pierced through the fabric.
Something inside her was breaking.
No—something inside her was awakening.
Her lips quivered, her breathing uneven. Her mind screamed at her, a voice—ancient, unknown, primal—demanding only one thing.
Scream.
And she did.
A Banshee's Wail.
The moment her voice tore through the battlefield, reality itself fractured. The sky above cracked like fragile glass, a sickly black mist flooding from the tears in space.
Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Impossible…"
Lana took a step forward, frowning.
Vynessa collapsed to her knees, her body shaking uncontrollably. Her pupils dilated as pain and raw emotion surged through her veins.
Her tears of blood continued to fall.
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't think.
All she could do—was feel.
Lycius was gone.
Her heart—her very soul—was tearing apart at the thought. She doesn't even know him, yet she harbored such feelings.
A red, pulsating aura erupted from her body, coiling around her like ethereal chains breaking apart. Her once delicate presence became suffocating, her very existence warping into something that should not belong in this world.
And then—
Lycius's body twitched.
A spark of something unnatural, something beyond mortal comprehension, ignited within his veins.
His body, once broken and battered, repaired itself instantly.
His bones realigned. His skin regenerated. The wounds that had marred his flesh vanished without a trace.
Then, his eyes opened.
But they were no longer just golden.
A violent violet hue intertwined with the gold, creating an otherworldly glow—one that radiated pure destructive divinity.
The air around him became heavy, dense, suffocating. The battlefield itself recoiled, the very fabric of space unraveling under the weight of his presence.
He was no longer the same.
The primal reason for his awakening—the very force that tore him back from unconsciousness—was not rage.
It was not vengeance.
It was Vynessa.
His body moved before thought.
One step—
And he was before her.
He placed his hand on her cheek, wiping away the blood-stained tears. His touch was gentle, his aura monstrous.
Vynessa's wide, trembling eyes locked onto his, and for the first time since the battle began—she felt safe.
A single thought echoed in Lycius's mind, overpowering everything else.
A single instinct engraved into the very core of his being.
"Protect Vynessa."
And at that moment, Lana knew.
This was no longer a simple duel.
This was the birth of something far beyond her expectations.
Something the world itself was not ready for.
Something unstoppable.
____________
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°°°°