At the same time…
The male dragoon unsheathed his blade, muscles tightening. He slashed horizontally—
BOOM.
A wave of red Bravo energy exploded outward, ripping through the ice, carving a violent arc across the battlefield.
Ziraiah gasped. “Eryndor!”
But she wasn’t the target.
Valtos vanished.
He reappeared instantly—directly in front of her.
No warning. No wind-up. Just presence.
As the Bravo slash approached, his eyes narrowed.
Then—he grew.
His body expanded, muscle mass doubling as his height surged to nine feet. The ground cracked beneath him just from standing.
He reached one hand downward.
No mana.
No Bravo.
Just raw, unfiltered strength.
Then—he swung.
SHRAAAAKK!
A vertical hand-slab ripped through the air—
His strike collided with the incoming Bravo slash.
The world split.
The Bravo energy was cleaved clean in half, torn down the middle. But the force of Valtos’s swing didn’t stop there.
It continued onward.
The sheer pressure carved into the land tearing a line through Plunder Island itself.
Thousands of meters away, the dragoon’s eyes widened.
Then—CRACK!
The force hit him directly in the chest.
His ribs shattered.
Blood gushed from his mouth.
His body was launched like a missile—hurling back across the landscape.
He screamed—but only once.
Then silence.
The impact carved a raging trench that cut through everything—ice, rock, snow—extending for kilometers.
It didn’t stop.
The shockwave continued all the way to the center of the island, then finally dissipated—after carving a 500-kilometer-long canyon through the land.
---
Silence.
Valtos straightened his posture. Looked at his own hand. It was bleeding.
“…Hmm,” he muttered. “You made me bleed.”
Then he smiled, faintly.
“Congratulations. But I’m sure that cost you.”
---
500 kilometers away…
The dragoon lay sprawled at the edge of the newly-formed canyon.
His armor had shattered. His chest was split open.
His mouth hung wide—teeth shattered, one eye missing.
A pool of blood formed beneath him. His limbs twitched.
He didn’t move.
---
Back at the ice forest—
Ziraiah’s voice cracked.
“W-What… what was that?”
Valtos didn’t answer at first. He just turned to her, expression calm.
“I have averted the threat.”
She stared at him—then looked ahead.
And gasped.
Before them, stretching across the horizon, was a canyon—
500 kilometers long,
and at its widest, fifty meters across.
It had not been there before.
Even Kaelan and Maloi stood frozen, eyes wide.
Ziraiah whispered, “Oh my god…”
Only she and Eryndor had seen the full scope of what Valtos had done.
Only they had witnessed the motion. The strike. The effect.
Eryndor’s mind reeled. He stared at Valtos’s bleeding hand, then out toward the chasm.
The extent of my vision is two hundred kilometres, he thought.
And yet… his strike traversed beyond that.
Far beyond.
He had no words.
Valtos turned without fanfare. “Let’s go.”
And so—they moved forward, continuing toward the center.
Behind them, Juvian muttered, half in awe, half in fear:
“…What just happened? That canyon wasn’t there before.”
---
Elsewhere…
In a dark chamber, deep within the control towers of Plunder Island, the organizers watched the feeds.
When Valtos struck, half the room stood up in shock.
One man’s voice cracked.
“H-How is this possible?! Pytho is ranked equal to an A-Class Raider! How could he be defeated… so easily?”
Another organizer wiped sweat from his brow, stammering:
“What… did my eyes just see?”
He turned to a nearby waiter.
“…Please. Get me some water so I can wash my eyes. I believe I’m hallucinating.”
The quiet in the room was tense. Electric.
Someone else whispered:
“Is… is Pytho still alive?”
But another man leaned forward, face grim.
“You’re focused on the fallen warrior,” he said. “But you’ve forgotten something more important…”
He looked up at the screen—zoomed in on Valerius’s battlefield.
“…There’s another challenger,” he said.
“An unidentified combatant…”
He pointed.
“…Who just deflected Silvia’s attack.”
---
Valerius’s voice rang out like a warhorn.
“Don’t wait for me! I’ll be right behind you!”
Kaelan, Eliana, Elsa, and Maloi hesitated—then obeyed. They turned and sprinted deeper into the battlefield.
Alone now, Valerius exhaled slowly, his gaze locked onto the distant Dragoon woman.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“It’s about time… I test out Page Five.”
---
The ground beneath him cracked as he launched into the sky, the force of his leap sending a shockwave rolling across the ice.
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---
In the dark void of the Temporal Plane…
Endless cards floated in spirals, thousands drifting through the void. The book at the center of the plane began to glow.
It opened.
Page after page flipped by themselves—until they halted.
PAGE FIVE.
Letters of golden ink etched themselves into place:
“WHEN THERE IS TRUST BETWEEN THE USER AND THE CHAMPION, THE USER MAY CALL UPON THE CHAMPION'S POWER.”
---
Back in the sky—
Valerius soared higher, lightning trailing from his body.
His arms darkened. Black mist coiled across his limbs. His eyes turned void-black.
He raised his head, voice bursting like a divine summons.
“FENRYYYYYYYYY—!”
The world answered.
---
Above the Dragoon woman, the sky twisted.
Dark clouds erupted across the heavens, swirling into a supermassive storm. Thunder rolled. The sun disappeared. The air went still.
She looked up.
“…What is this?”
Then—lightning flickered across the storm, crawling over her skin. Rain began to fall in thick sheets.
And from above…
She saw him.
Valerius, descending with bent knees, arms outstretched, the storm fused to his body.
The clouds on his limbs sparked—charging. His core ignited with power not his own.
Then—he punched downward.
---
KRAAAAAAAAAKOOOOOOOM!
Thunder exploded from the Strom cloud in the sky.
A cluster of lightning bolts—not one, but hundreds—gathered and slammed into the battlefield like divine spears.
They struck the Dragoon woman with relentless violence.
Three full seconds of concentrated lightning.
Every impact was a scream of judgment.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
She shrieked, her armor melting, her body burned raw.
She dropped to her knees, gasping, smoking—barely alive.
But it wasn’t over.
Not even close.
---
High above, Valerius twisted mid-air.
Then—he leaped off the air, speeding downward.
Mach 2000.
He broke the sound barrier 2000 times over. The sky itself shattered behind him.
And then—he landed.
---
KAAAAAAAAAAABOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The moment his feet touched her, it was like the world detonated.
A hurricane erupted, tearing across the battlefield.
Trees were uprooted.
Mountains buckled.
A crater was born—
20 kilometers wide.
14 kilometers deep.
At the very center… stood Valerius.
Steam rose from his back.
The black clouds faded from his arms. His eyes returned to normal.
His body gleamed with residual light.
He exhaled once.
“…Not bad,” he muttered.
A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“…I’m kinda liking Page Five.”
---
Beneath his feet, the Dragoon woman lay broken.
Unconscious. Limbless. Barely breathing.
She would live—but only just.
---
Elsewhere…
In the control chamber of the organizers, every figure in the room shot to their feet.
They shouted in unison:
“WHAT?!”
Screens zoomed in on the crater. Alarm bells echoed through the tower.
One man stared, stunned.
“That… that was Silvia. An elite Bravo user. She didn’t even land a single hit—!”
Another gasped, grabbing his headset.
“Get a med evac—NOW. We have a Code Red Alpha collapse!”
A third organizer turned pale.
“…Is that really the same unidentified combatant who deflected her Bravo slash?”
---
At the edge of the crater…
A figure stood, watching.
He wore a dark blue mask, the letter C glowing on it in sky blue.
Small hover-cameras floated around him, capturing every angle.
He stared down at Valerius, voice light.
“…Well damn,” he murmured.
“I didn’t expect that.”
---
Valerius blinked—his senses flaring.
He vanished.
A sonic boom cracked the crater.
He reappeared directly in front of the masked man, arm pulled back for a strike.
But—
The man was gone.
Already standing on the other side of the canyon.
He waved casually.
“I’m just the cameraman,” he said, smiling under his mask.
“I’m not your enemy.”
Then—
He vanished.
---
Valerius bolted across the battlefield, his steps carving miniature craters with every stride. Dust whipped behind him. A storm of heat and lightning still lingered in his wake.
---
Meanwhile, on Eryndor’s side…
The ground rumbled violently.
A sonic boom echoed across the plains, followed by a shockwave of wind that swept through the team like a hurricane.
Isabela blinked. “What was—”
BOOOOOOM.
A distant explosion rocked the landscape. Trees swayed. Snow peeled off branches. The tremor reached their feet.
Ziraiah steadied herself. “The hell was that?”
They pushed forward, flying low.
Then—suddenly—Valtos’s foot pressed down on something.
CLICK.
The ground opened beneath him.
CRACK—!
A massive trapdoor sevemty meters wide slammed open, revealing a chasm of jagged black spikes below.
Valtos and Isabela plummeted instantly—neither could use mana.
“VALTOS—ISA—!”
Ziraiah didn’t hesitate. She extended both hands.
“Float!”
A twin surge of mana pulsed downward, catching both of them mid-fall.
Valtos hovered in the air, arms crossed.
He scoffed.
“Tch. I would’ve been just fine.”
Ziraiah floated down beside him, hands on her hips.
“Would it kill you to say thank you?”
Juvian drifted down next to her, deadpan as always.
“If it were up to me, I would’ve let him fall. All the way down. Maybe bounced once or twice.”
Valtos grinned.
“Hell’ll freeze over before a fall like that harms me.”
Juvian cracked his knuckles.
“I really want to punch you.”
Ziraiah tilted her head toward him, smirking.
“You think you can take him?”
A flicker of laughter passed between them—brief, but real.
Then together, they rose again, flying toward the center.
---
The ice forest ended.
They entered a new zone—a living jungle of giant trees
Every tree towered over them—a hundred feet tall at minimum, their trunks wide as towers, their roots twisting like titanic serpents.
Then—
WHAM.
They slammed into something.
An invisible force knocked them out of the air.
They crashed to the ground like rag dolls.
Ziraiah groaned, rubbing her forehead.
She stood and reached forward.
Tap.
Her fingers met an invisible surface—smooth, cold, solid.
A wall of air.
“What… is this?”
Then—a face emerged from the wall itself.
A smooth, bald, grey head, half-submerged in the invisible surface.
It blinked once.
Then spoke in a calm, resonant voice:
“Congratulations for making it this far.
To pass through this wall,
you must answer a riddle.
You have only three attempts.”
The group looked at each other.
“…Seriously?” Ziraiah muttered.
The face continued:
“I am always hungry,
I must always be fed.
The more I drink,
the more I am dead.
What am I?”
A long silence.
Isabela frowned. “A parasite?”
The head paused.
“Incorrect. Two attempts remaining.”
Juvian stepped forward.
“Maybe it’s… a black hole?”
“Incorrect. One attempt remaining.”
Tension filled the air.
All eyes turned to Eryndor.
He stepped toward the wall, silent and thoughtful. His eyes flicked upward. He raised his chin and spoke softly:
“You are fire.”
The head paused.
Then—
The wall vanished.
A shimmering path appeared through the trees.
“Correct. Proceed.”
The team moved forward—impressed.
Ziraiah whispered, “How did you know? I didn't even think of fire.”
Eryndor’s voice was cool.
“You ought to know better than to measure your intellect against mine.”
---
Meanwhile, on Valerius’s side…
He sprinted straight into an invisible wall.
THOOM—!
He bounced off and landed flat on his back, blinking.
“…The hell?”
Then—the same grey head emerged before him.
It blinked once, then intoned:
“Congratulations for making it this far.
To pass through this wall,
you must answer a riddle.
You have only three attempts.”
Valerius sat up, brushing dirt from his shoulder.
“Riddles now, huh?” he muttered, cracking his neck.
“Alright. I’m listening.”
The head recited:
“It has no voice, yet it tells tales.
It holds no breath, yet it steals yours.
It may lie still, yet it changes you.
What is it?”
Valerius narrowed his eyes.
Fade to black.
---
Valerius furrowed his brow, thinking hard. “Is it… a painting?” he offered.
The head gave a slow blink. “Incorrect.”
Valerius tried again, undeterred. “Then… the moon?”
The heads expression didn’t shift. “Still incorrect.”
Valerius groaned in frustration, then suddenly straightened and called aloud, “Sithedra!”
A low hum rippled through the air, and a swirling portal tore open beside him. From its depths emerged a towering figure—thirteen feet tall, draped in a perfectly tailored suit. The spirit had the lithe, muscular build of a feline humanoid, its fur a sleek, interwoven tapestry of crimson and midnight black. Sharp amber eyes gleamed beneath elegant brows, and a long, tufted tail flicked once behind him.
The spirit’s voice was surprisingly high-pitched, almost grating in contrast to his refined appearance.
“What do you want this time?” he asked, exasperated.
Valerius gestured toward Sithedra. “I need you to answer this riddle for me.”
He cleared his throat and repeated it carefully:
“It has no voice, yet it tells tales.
It holds no breath, yet it steals yours.
It may lie still, yet it changes you.
What is it?”
Sithedra’s ears twitched. He adjusted the cuff of his suit with dramatic flair.
“A book,” he answered, smugly.
“The answer is a book.”
The head blinked once.
Then said plainly:
“Correct.”
The invisible wall shimmered—then dissolved like mist in sunlight.
A clear path opened through the towering jungle, stretching toward the center of Plunder Island.
Valerius stepped forward casually.
At his side, Sithedra emerged from the fog, calm and silent as always.
Valerius smiled.
Without warning, he threw an arm around Sithedra’s shoulders.
“Knew you’d figure it out.”
Sithedra gave him a long, unimpressed glance.
Then—he grabbed Valerius’s arm and gently pushed it off.
“I’m going back now.”
Valerius nodded. “Yh. See you later.”
A portal formed beside Sithedra—dark violet.
He stepped into it without another word.
The portal closed behind him, vanishing with a faint whisper.
The path ahead was quiet now.
The air trembled.
Somewhere in the distance, the final battle loomed closer.
Valerius cracked his knuckles.
---
To Be Continued...
