The Stupidity of Diplomacy

  Amara stopped retreating.

  For the last ten minutes, she had been a wall—deflecting, parrying, and moving backward. But now, facing the massive Northern Leader who called himself "North," And for the Diplomacy of Violence, she decided to stop being a wall.

  She decided to become a landslide.

  She summoned her Matter—not just a thin, defensive layer, but a torrential flood of Rank Five Middle-Stage energy. It coated her skin in a violet sheen, heavy. Combined with a physical body trained to withstand planetary disasters, she was no longer a human woman. She was a condensed star.

  "Die! Kin-slayer" North roared.

  He lunged forward, his Rank Six Early-Stage power flaring. He swung a massive greatsword that glowed with a blinding white aura. The weapon was a symbol of his status, a "Resistant" blade meant to cleave through corruption. It hummed with the righteous anger of a man who had never known defeat in his own territory.

  This time, Amara didn't dodge. She didn't defend.

  She attacked.

  "Extend," she commanded, her voice cold.

  The sentient violet dagger in her hand obeyed instantly. The metal liquefied and shot forward, stretching into a longsword of crystallized violet light.

  CLANG.

  She met his greatsword head-on.

  BOOM.

  The impact wasn't a clash; it was an explosion. A shockwave of violet and white energy rippled outward, shattering the glass-like rocks of the graveyard.

  North’s eyes bulged. He had expected her to crumble under his weight. He was a brute force fighter; he relied on crushing his opponents. Instead, he felt like he had struck a mountain that decided to hit back.

  "Guh!"

  He was thrown backward, his boots carving deep trenches into the ashen ground as he fought to stop his slide. Dust plumed around him. He managed to hold his ground ten meters away, planting his sword into the earth to stabilize himself. His arms were trembling. His grip on the hilt faltered.

  "What..." North gasped, staring at her. "How can a woman... have this density?"

  Amara didn't give him time to breathe. She arched through the air, closing the distance in a violet blur.

  Slash. Bash. Kick.

  With every shot of her energy, the Northern Leader was left helpless. He was blocking for his life, his white aura cracking under the relentless violet assault. Amara wasn't just overpowering him; she was dissecting him. She slapped his blade aside, kicked his knee, and slammed the pommel of her sword into his helmet.

  CRACK.

  The sound echoed across the silent battlefield.

  Far away from the duel, the subordinates of the Northern League watched with their mouths open. These were men and women who had followed North for years. To them, he was a god of war. He was the man who conquered the frozen wastes.

  "Impossible," a lieutenant whispered, dropping his axe. "The Leader... he's being toyed with."

  "She isn't even using skills," a healer gasped, her hands covering her mouth in horror. "She's just... beating him. With basic combat."

  The denial in the air was palpable. It was the shattering of a worldview. Their invincible hero was being dismantled by a woman in a trench coat who looked like she was bored.

  "Stand up, Leader!" someone screamed, their voice cracking with desperation. "Show her the North's power!"

  "That is exactly possible," Aryan said from across the field.

  He was leaning against a broken pillar, spinning his violet orb casually on one finger like a toy. He looked at the terrified subordinates with a mix of pity and amusement.

  "Actually, it's inevitable," Aryan continued, catching the orb. "You guys just bet on the wrong horse. Your leader is strong, sure. But my sister? She eats monsters like him for breakfast."

  "Shut up, Kin-Slayer!" Ray shouted, stepping forward.

  Ray and Solen stood a few meters away, watching the fight with grim expressions. They weren't panicking like the subordinates, but they were disturbed.

  "I told you we should have handled this," Ray sighed, shaking his head. He looked at Amara’s flawless form, then at his own trembling spear hand. "They're like us. Monsters in human skin. Look at her efficiency, Sister. She wastes no movement. Every strike is calculated to cripple."

  "She is skilled," Solen admitted, her eyes narrowing. "But that makes it worse. A skilled Kin-Slayer is a disaster for the world."

  Ray looked over at Aryan. "Except that kid. He doesn't seem to have much experience. If we hadn't personally seen him kill that innocent man, I would have thought he was just a pure little kid dragged into a war. He fights... sloppily."

  "Don't be fooled by faces, Brother," Solen spat, her jealousy flaring. "He blocked your spear. He has power, even if he lacks grace. That makes him dangerous. An idiot with a bazooka is still a threat."

  Meanwhile, the fight between Amara and North reached its climax.

  North roared, burning his life essence to launch one final, desperate overhead strike. "I AM THE NORTH!"

  Amara didn't even blink. She stepped inside his guard. She didn't use her sword. She simply placed her palm on his chest plate.

  [Skill: Matter Repulsion - 20% Output]

  BOOM.

  It was like a cannon shot. North’s armor caved in. The massive man was lifted off his feet and sent crashing face-first into the ground, sliding for twenty feet before coming to a stop at his subordinates' feet. He groaned, spitting out blood and ash, unable to stand.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Silence fell over the graveyard.

  Solen narrowed her eyes, her knuckles white as she gripped her weapon.

  "She didn't even use half of the power she used against us, Brother," Solen noted coldly. "She was treating him like a child."

  "Because she is like us," Ray realized, a chill running down his spine. "She was holding back against us, too. She was testing us."

  "Now don't talk," Solen commanded, her white aura flaring up again, brighter and hotter than before. "Let's finish these two. They're finally showing their true colors. If they think beating our reinforcement is 'Diplomacy', then this is just stupidity. Brainless cowards."

  She didn't wait.

  WHOOSH.

  Solen launched herself forward, moving with the speed of a Late-Stage phantom. She didn't aim at Amara this time. She aimed at the space between the siblings, trying to separate the tank from the support.

  "Wow," Aryan thought, his Seer eyes tracking the sudden aggression. The red lines of probability crisscrossed in his vision. "These two are really something, Sis. They just saw the biggest guy here get flattened, and their reaction is to attack harder? They just don't know when to quit."

  But there was no chance to reply.

  Ray crashed into him.

  "Playtime is over, kid!" Ray shouted, his spear thrusting with renewed speed. The tip of the spear swirled with a vortex of white mana. "No more basketball! I’m going to skewer you!"

  Aryan stopped spinning the orb. He gripped it tight, the golden energy hardening into a shield. He felt the weight of the attack—it was sharper, faster, and filled with the intent to kill.

  "Fine," Aryan grinned, his eyes glowing a deep, ominous red. The playfulness vanished from his face. "Then let's play dodgeball."

  He slammed the orb into the ground.

  [Skill: Kinetic Bounce]

  The orb didn't stop. It ricocheted off the floor, picking up speed, and shot straight for Ray’s face.

  The Investment and the Lunatic

  The Outskirts of the Graveyard.

  Skrrrt.

  The sound of wheels grinding against petrified ash echoed through the ruins.

  Jay kicked off the ground, his body low and aerodynamic. He wasn't running; he was riding a slab of reinforced metal that levitated an inch off the ground—a Matter Skateboard, a relic from his family that hummed with a soft, anti-gravitational whine.

  He skated faster and faster, weaving through the debris like a ghost. The wind whipped his coat behind him, carrying the scent of ozone and burnt mana.

  His eyes flickered with a digital blue light. Through his passive skill, 'Opportunist’s Sight, the distant battle wasn't just flashes of light; it was a stock market graph.

  He saw Amara, High Value and Stable Blue Chip.

  He saw Aryan 'Rising Stock and volatile but skyrocketing'.

  He saw the Resistance Siblings 'Volatile Assets – crashing fast.

  He sighed, pushing his hair back as the ash stung his face.

  "Looks like the team is set to exploit," he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. "Two monsters fighting two other monsters. If I play my cards right, I can own the whole table."

  He crouched low on the board, channeling his own Matter into the wheels. The board flared with neon blue energy.

  "Let's make things better. My dear Investment... Daddy is coming."

  He shot forward like a bullet, aiming straight for the chaos.

  The Center of the Storm.

  The fight was getting bigger. The suppression of the Planetary System was struggling to contain the sheer output of Matter. And now... the Dark Matter.

  Dark Matter was the forbidden fruit of combat. It was hard to master, harder to control, and illegal in most sectors. It wasn't just energy; it was the chaotic sludge of the universe. When one uses it, it breaks through planetary restrictions like a hammer through glass.

  Amara and Solen were a blur of Violet and White.

  Aryan and Ray were a collision of Gold and Silver.

  Neither side was holding back anymore. The ground was pulverized into fine sand from the ashen graveyard, creating a thick fog of war.

  "Finally," Sam’s voice echoed in Aryan and Amara’s minds, sounding strangely satisfied. "You have met people like you. Not mindless beasts. Not arrogant weaklings. Peers. True prodigies of this world. This is where you grow, kids."

  Aryan heard the voice, but he couldn't respond. He was being pressed. Ray’s spear was relentless, a viper striking from every angle.

  "Back off!" Aryan roared.

  Instinctively, he stopped calculating. He stopped trying to be precise. He just pushed.

  BOOM.

  His Rank Five aura exploded outward. But because he was stressed, his control slipped. The Dark Matter—the raw, chaotic energy he usually suppressed—leaked out. It mixed with his Golden Greed, creating a terrifying, swirling aura of blackened gold.

  Ray froze. He skidded back, his eyes widening as he stared at the dark energy coiling around Aryan like a living snake.

  "Sister!" Ray shouted, his voice cracking with genuine horror. "Look! They're totally like us! No doubt!"

  Solen looked over, parrying Amara’s dagger. She saw the darkness. Her eyes went wide.

  "No," Solen whispered, her face pale. "It's a total disaster, Brother. Them being Kin-Slayers... it is the worst-case scenario."

  The sight of the Dark Matter triggered something deep in their psyche.

  Flashback.

  A village burning. Shadows eating people alive. The screams of their parents as 'Heroes' turned into monsters to feed their own Systems.

  "We mustn't let a single one of them survive," Solen hissed, her righteous anger turning into cold, murderous intent. "Our whole village was their food. Remember, Ray?"

  Hearing those words, Ray's pupils dilated. His reflexes and his brain worked faster, fueled by trauma. Memories overlapped—the face of Aryan and the face of the monster who ate his mother became one.

  He gritted his teeth. His hesitation vanished.

  "I will finish this," Ray whispered. "I will kill the darkness."

  VRRRR.

  The two siblings brought out their own hidden power. It wasn't just light; it was Dark Matter of their own, but purified until it was Invisible Pure White. It was a paradox—matter that erased existence.

  And Aryan and Amara responded. Their auras flared Invisible Golden Violet.

  The air between them distorted, shimmering like a heat haze.

  They struck hard.

  It wasn't a normal collision. When their weapons met, there was no sound. No thunderclap. Just a sickening void. The space between them collapsed, unable to process the density of four Rank Five entities manipulating the fundamental chaos of the universe. The ground didn't crack; it simply ceased to exist, turning into a fine, gray powder that floated upward against gravity.

  CRACK.

  Ray’s spear slammed into Aryan’s forearm. The sound of bone snapping was sickeningly loud, breaking the silence of the void.

  Aryan was thrown back, rolling through the dust. He crashed into a pillar, coughing up blood.

  "Got him!" Ray shouted, preparing the killing blow.

  But then... a sound came from the dust.

  "Hah... hahaha..."

  Aryan pushed himself up. His left arm was bent at a wrong angle. Blood was dripping from his mouth. But he was laughing. He was laughing like a madman.

  The pain was blinding, a white-hot spike driving through his nervous system. A week ago, this would have made him pass out. But now? Now, the Multiplier Effect turned that pain into fuel. It rushed through his veins like liquid caffeine. He felt alive. For the first time since waking up in this hellhole, he wasn't just surviving; he was thriving in the violence.

  "Thanks, kid," Aryan wheezed, wiping the blood from his chin. He grabbed his own shoulder. With a sickening crunch, he popped the joint back into place. His Rank Five regeneration was already working, knitting the bone back together in seconds.

  "You're crazy," Ray whispered, stepping back. He watched the boy smile through the blood. "You enjoy this?"

  "Finally," Aryan grinned, his teeth stained red. "I'm finally gaining experience. I broke a bone, and I'm still standing. I don't need to be a burden anymore. I don't need to hide behind my sister."

  He raised his good hand, summoning the violet orb again. His eyes burned with the manic joy of someone who realized they were unkillable.

  "You see? I can take it. So let's continue. Make it harder, kid! MAKE IT HARDER!"

  Ray looked at him with disgust. He didn't see a warrior; he saw a demon reveling in pain. "You are a monster."

  "Where are you from?!" Solen roared from the other side, slamming her sword against Amara’s daggers. She had seen Aryan’s smile, and it chilled her more than the Dark Matter. "Where are your other group members? Tell me! Let me make the judgment for all of you scum!"

  Amara blocked the strike. Her face was calm, contrasting perfectly with Aryan’s mania. She looked at Solen—a woman driven by trauma, blinded by her own justice.

  Amara shook her head slowly.

  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Amara said softly. "The truth is too big for your little war."

  "Try me!" Solen screamed.

  "We aren't from your world," Amara said. "And we aren't your enemy. But if you want to judge us..."

  Amara’s eyes flashed violet.

  "You'll have to survive us first. Let's continue."