The arena settled into a hush as Dreamer appeared once more, his smirk as sharp as ever. The children stood in tense silence, watching as their surroundings shifted and shimmered, the air itself pulsing with an unnatural energy. The trial had just ended, and several combatants bore the bruises and cuts of their hard-fought battles. Yet, there was no respite, no break for recovery. Dreamer had made it clear from the start—this was a test of endurance as much as strength.
He clapped his hands, a sound that echoed unnaturally in the vast space, commanding everyone's attention. "Well, wasn't that entertaining?" he drawled, his tone laced with mockery. "You've proven yourselves marginally competent... or at least less pathetic than I expected. But the fun isn't over yet."
The ground beneath their feet rumbled slightly, the sigil in the center of the arena glowing brighter. It began to shift and morph, its edges extending and fracturing into intricate patterns that stretched across the floor. Words formed above it in fiery letters, blazing with an ominous light.
> Next Trial: Duel of Minds and Bodies – Player vs. Player.
Objective: Overcome your opponent using strategy, skill, and adaptability.
Victory Conditions: Incapacitate your opponent or force them to yield.
Dreamer raised his hands theatrically. "Now, you might be thinking, 'Oh, another boring one-on-one fight.' But let me assure you, this trial will test more than just your fists and weapons. This will test your resolve, your cunning, and most importantly, your ability to outwit someone who's just as desperate as you."
He gestured, and the sigil flared once more. A massive, semi-transparent screen materialized above the arena, showing a bracket. Names began to appear, pairing the children into matches. The order was random, but every name carried weight. Whispers spread among the children as they saw their potential opponents.
Dreamer's voice cut through the murmurs. "Each of you will face off in a unique battlefield, tailored to bring out the worst—or best—in you. The environments will vary, and so will the rules. Some arenas will have traps, others will have shifting terrain. Some will even challenge you to think beyond the fight itself." His grin widened, teeth gleaming. "And yes, I'll be watching every moment. Don't disappoint me."
The children were tense, their gazes darting between the bracket and Dreamer. A few clenched their fists, while others looked down, lost in thought. Asmodeus, however, stood with his usual calm, his ever-shifting eyes betraying no emotion. His name appeared quickly, paired with a boy named Eran. The screen highlighted their names in bold, red letters.
Dreamer's eyes flicked to Asmodeus, his grin sharpening. "Ah, now this will be entertaining. Two prodigies, each with their own unique... quirks. Let's see who emerges victorious."
The ground beneath Asmodeus and Eran shimmered, and in an instant, they were transported to a new battlefield. The air around them grew cold, and the scene settled into a frozen wasteland. Ice stretched endlessly in every direction, jagged spires rising like teeth from the ground. The sky was a pale, unnatural gray, and the only sound was the howl of a bitter wind.
Eran stood across from Asmodeus, his stance tense but ready. He was taller, with a lean build and sharp, calculating eyes. His weapon of choice was a glaive, the blade gleaming wickedly in the dim light. He spun it once, testing its weight, and smirked. "I've heard about you," he said, his voice carrying over the wind. "The so-called prodigy. Let's see if you're as good as they say."
Asmodeus didn't respond. His eyes glowed faintly blue, and his system activated, feeding him data.
> Opponent Analysis:
Strength: High.
Speed: Moderate.
Endurance: High.
Weakness: Overconfidence in prolonged engagements.
The system offered several strategies, highlighting Eran's tendency to overextend in combat. Asmodeus dismissed the notifications with a thought, focusing instead on his opponent's stance and movement.
Eran moved first, charging with surprising speed despite the icy terrain. His glaive sliced through the air in a deadly arc, aimed to cleave Asmodeus in two. But Asmodeus sidestepped with ease, his movements fluid, almost lazy. The blade missed by a hair's breadth, the wind from its swing brushing against his cheek.
Eran pressed the attack, each strike faster and more precise than the last. But Asmodeus seemed to anticipate every move, his dodges timed perfectly. He didn't retaliate, instead letting Eran exhaust himself.
The system chimed again.
> Opponent Stamina Decreasing: 15%.
Asmodeus's lips twitched into a faint smirk. "You're predictable," he said, his tone calm and detached.
Eran growled, his movements becoming more aggressive, less controlled. "Fight back, coward!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the wasteland.
Asmodeus finally moved, his speed blinding. He closed the distance in an instant, his hand glowing faintly with mana as he struck Eran's wrist. The glaive flew from Eran's grasp, clattering to the ice. Before Eran could react, Asmodeus swept his legs out from under him, pinning him to the ground.
"Yield," Asmodeus said, his voice cold.
Eran struggled, his pride keeping him from surrendering. But as Asmodeus pressed his advantage, twisting his arm painfully, Eran finally cried out. "I yield!"
The sigil above the battlefield flared, signaling Asmodeus's victory. The icy wasteland began to dissolve, and the two boys were transported back to the coliseum. Eran was whisked away by the shadows, his defeat apparent to all.
Dreamer clapped slowly, his grin wider than ever. "A flawless victory. Impressive, as always, Asmodeus. But don't get too comfortable. The trials are only going to get harder."
Asmodeus barely acknowledged the praise. His system panel appeared before him, displaying updates.
> System Update:
Opponent Combat Data Logged.
Adaptive Prediction Algorithm Enhanced.
New Ability Unlocked: Combat Feint Analysis.
He dismissed the panel, his expression unreadable. Around him, the children whispered, their gazes filled with a mix of fear and admiration. Asmodeus paid them no mind, his thoughts already on the next trial.
Suddenly, a question popped into his mind. "Since when can the system affect reality? Isn't it supposed to just be a tool?" Instead of overthinking, he addressed it directly.
"System, how in all things unholy are you able to manipulate reality?"
The system's response was instantaneous and unnervingly matter-of-fact:
> [The system amplifies the master's latent abilities, streamlining potential into practicality. No action exceeds your inherent capabilities, Your Excellency.]
Asmodeus sighed, muttering, "Concerning, but whatever. Just keep doing your job."
Before he could contemplate further, the ground beneath his feet began to shift once again. The next trial was already beginning.