The moment Ash stepped past the threshold of Dormant, he felt it—the shift in his very being.
The raw power surging through his veins was intoxicating, but also dangerous. His muscles pulsed with newfound strength, his reflexes sharper than ever before.
Yet, alongside the exhilarating rush of power, there was pain.
An unbearable burning sensation tore through his limbs, as if his body was forcibly adapting to its sudden evolution. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, but he gritted his teeth and endured.
He had survived worse.
The corpse of the Darkrend Ravager lay before him, its monstrous frame already beginning to dissolve into the shadows.
Then—the notification arrived.
---
[Stat Absorption in Progress…]
Strength +4
Agility +3
Constitution +3
Perception +2
---
A whole number increase, far beyond what he had gained before.
So this is what Awakening feels like…
Every fiber of his body adjusted to the increase. His muscles coiled tighter, denser. His breath came easier, his wounds stitching themselves together at a noticeably faster rate.
Yet even as the surge of stats settled within him, his instincts screamed.
Something was coming.
Something worse.
The Nightmare wasn't over.
---
[Stats]
Name: Ash
Rank: Awakened
Aspect: Abyssal Tyrant (Divine)
[Stats]
Strength: 64
Agility: 69
Endurance: 60
Constitution: 55
Perception: 72
Soul Resistance: 52
---
The shadows around him stirred. The air grew heavier.
And then—he heard it.
A slow, deliberate sound.
Click. Click. Click.
Footsteps.
Something was approaching.
And it wasn't human.
Ash turned, gripping his sword tighter as the darkness twisted and gave birth to a new horror.
A towering figure emerged—something far more sinister than the Ravager.
Lankier, yet impossibly tall. Draped in tattered remnants of blackened armor.
Its face hidden beneath an eerie, cracked mask.
Its eyes—glowing red slits.
And in its hand—a sword.
Not just any sword.
A blade that oozed malice.
A cursed weapon, its edges pulsing with dark energy.
A Duelist-Type Nightmare Creature.
Ash's blood ran cold.
This… this was different.
This wasn't a mindless beast relying on brute strength.
This thing was a swordsman.
A killer.
And it had come for him.
Ash's grip on his weapon tightened.
The real battle was only just beginning. Ash exhaled slowly, forcing his body to adjust to his newfound strength. His heart pounded against his ribs, but his grip on his sword remained steady.
Across from him, the Duelist Nightmare stood unmoving, its mask hiding whatever expression it might have.
Then, it moved.
Not lunging, not attacking outright—but stepping.
A slow, measured step forward, dragging the tip of its cursed blade along the ground. A challenge.
Ash's instincts screamed at him.
This thing isn't like the others.
Unlike the mindless monsters he had fought until now, this creature had form. It had discipline. It wasn't simply going to rush him.
It was testing him.
Sizing him up.
Ash let out a breath and adjusted his stance. His sword, still bearing the weight of his recent victory, felt lighter now. Stronger. More balanced.
The Nightmare tilted its head slightly. Then—it moved.
A single, blindingly fast step, the sound of air tearing apart following in its wake.
So fast!
Ash barely had time to react before the cursed blade came down at an impossible angle.
His instincts flared, and his body moved on its own.
CLANG!
Sparks erupted as he barely managed to parry the attack, his feet skidding back from the sheer force.
Too strong!
The Duelist didn't relent. It followed up immediately, launching a flurry of precise strikes—each one faster than the last.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Ash was forced on the defensive, his mind struggling to keep up with the sheer precision of the attacks.
This wasn't like fighting beasts.
This was a sword fight.
A true battle of skill.
And he was losing.
A cut opened along his arm, then another across his side. The Duelist's movements were cold, mechanical—it wasn't just attacking blindly.
It was analyzing him.
Breaking him down.
If this keeps up… I'll die.
Ash's mind raced. He needed to turn the tide, now.
And then—he made a choice.
If it wants a duel, I'll give it one.
---
Predator's Conquest Activated.
Copying Technique…
---
Ash's eyes flashed with understanding.
He had been forced to defend this whole time. Now it was his turn.
The Duelist stepped in for another attack.
Ash moved first.
He parried—not just reacting, but redirecting.
The Nightmare's cursed blade veered slightly off course. Just enough.
Ash twisted his body, bringing his sword down in a precise counter.
Phantom Rend.
A streak of energy-enhanced steel tore through the air, aiming straight for the Duelist's mask.
The Nightmare barely dodged.
For the first time—it was on the back foot.
Ash smirked.
Now we're talking. The Duelist Nightmare slid back, its mask tilting ever so slightly—acknowledging the shift.
Ash pressed his advantage.
His muscles burned, his body still adjusting to the rapid influx of power from his latest kills, but he ignored the strain. He had momentum now.
The Nightmare moved first.
It blurred forward, its blade flashing in the dim light.
I can see it.
Ash's instincts roared. His Observation Haki flared, sharpening his perception. The incoming strike was fast—but predictable.
He twisted, narrowly avoiding the downward slash, and brought his own blade up in a brutal riposte.
Abyss Fang.
The Duelist reacted, its cursed blade intercepting his strike.
But it didn't notice the real threat.
The delayed phantom slash formed a heartbeat later, cutting through the air with deadly precision.
SHING!
The Nightmare jerked back as its left shoulder plate was sliced clean through.
Ash didn't hesitate. He pivoted and followed up with a devastating overhead slash.
CLANG!
The Duelist blocked, but this time—it staggered.
A spark of something flickered in its movements.
Not frustration.
Not anger.
Recognition.
Ash grinned.
"You're not the only one that can learn mid-fight," he muttered.
The Duelist adjusted its stance. It was subtle, but Ash could tell—it had adapted.
The next exchange came faster.
Blades clashed in a storm of sparks and steel. Ash fought with everything he had—each swing carrying both raw power and refined skill.
His footwork sharpened. His sword strokes became more efficient. His instincts honed in on the slightest shifts in the Nightmare's stance.
The Duelist adjusted accordingly.
It countered faster. It feinted more often.
But Ash was no longer just reacting.
He was reading.
Another slash. Another exchange. Another near miss.
And then—
Ash saw it.
A pattern.
A tiny fraction of hesitation in the Nightmare's defense.
A single opening.
Now.
Ash stepped in.
He let the Nightmare's blade scrape past his shoulder, drawing blood—but it didn't matter.
Because his own sword was already moving.
Phantom Rend.
Faster than before. Stronger than before.
The Duelist tried to react—too late.
The high-speed draw-cut tore through its side.
Ash's blade bit deep, severing the Nightmare's torso clean in half.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
The Duelist froze.
A quiet shudder passed through its body. Its mask—expressionless as ever—tilted slightly downward, as if acknowledging defeat.
Then, it crumbled.
Ash exhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling with exhaustion.
A moment later—
[You have slain the Duelist Nightmare.]
[Assimilating Stats…]
---
+3 Strength
+2 Agility
+2 Endurance
---
Ash felt the surge of power flood his limbs. His wounds still ached, but his body had already begun adjusting.
His grip on his sword tightened.
I'm getting stronger.
He looked down at the remains of the Duelist. Its sword—a dark, cursed thing—remained intact.
A new notification flickered in his vision.
[Item Acquired: Abyssal Duelist's Blade (Dormant)]
A cursed weapon wielded by the Duelist Nightmare.
Holds untapped potential.
Ash picked it up, feeling the faint hum of energy within.
Dormant, huh?
He would deal with it later.
For now—
He turned toward the looming exit of the Trial Grounds.
Time to move forward.