The main duel arena is packed to the uppermost tribune. This is no longer an Iron Rank battle that can be ignored. It is an unranked anomaly leaping directly into the Upper Silver Rank. A declaration of war.
Lyra Vex steps into the arena with the grace of a spider. She wears a dark silk robe, a contemptuous smile playing on her lips. In the stands, her brother Orion cheers the loudest, while Darius val-Luminar observes with a cold, analytical gaze.
"A brave insect attempting to leap through the web," Lyra hisses as Nihil steps into the arena opposite her. "I will ensure you learn your place, Kitchen Boy."
Nihil does not respond. His silence is an emptiness that makes Lyra's threats feel hollow.
The referee signals. "Ranked Duel #75! Lyra Vex versus Nihil! Begin!"
Lyra wastes no time. She snaps her fingers, and reality around Nihil collapses. The arena walls vanish, replaced by an endless mirror labyrinth. Hundreds, even thousands, of reflections of Lyra appear in every mirror, all jeering with laughter.
"Now, where am I?" Lyra's voice whispers from all directions. "In front of you? Behind you? Or perhaps... already inside your mind?"
The spectators gasp. This is high-level illusion magic, a psychological labyrinth designed to shatter the opponent's sanity before the physical battle begins.
Nihil, surrounded by visual and auditory chaos, does the most unexpected thing. He stops and closes his eyes.
He ignores all sensory input. He knows everything he sees and hears is a lie. He relies on something more fundamental.
In the silence of his mind, he activates his new skill.
[Activating: Void Sonar.]
[Capacity: 40/40 -> 38/40]
An invisible wave of non-existence radiates from him. Instantly, a perfect 3D map of the original arena forms in his mind. He can 'see' every pillar, every stone, and most importantly, two lifeforms. One is himself. The other... is hiding behind a real pillar on the right side of the arena, completely still, pouring all her concentration into maintaining the magnificent illusion.
Nihil opens his eyes. He still sees the mirror labyrinth. But now, he knows it's just a painting.
With calm certainty, he begins to walk straight ahead. He passes through an "illusionary mirror wall," which ripples like water as he moves through it.
From her hiding spot, Lyra is stunned. How could he? No one has ever found their way through her Mirror Labyrinth that quickly.
Nihil continues walking, each step calm and calculated. He passes through one after another of Lyra's reflections, each shattering into light dust as he touches them.
Lyra realizes her game is up. She changes tactics. "If you can't be deceived, perhaps you can be shattered from within!"
The mirror labyrinth vanishes, replaced by something far worse. The arena around Nihil transforms into a familiar scene: his apartment in Vega Terra. Before him, AI Lyra screams in panic from the screen.
"CRITICAL COGNITIVE CONNECTION! BRAIN FUNCTION DECLINING! HEZE, DISCONNECT! HEZE!"
This is a direct mental attack, an illusion drawn from his deepest memories, designed to trigger trauma and panic.
Nihil feels a wave of intense dizziness. The psychic pain is real.
But Lyra has made one fatal mistake. By focusing her attack on a single mental concept, she has left herself vulnerable.
Nihil, though his head feels as though it will split, raises his head. He locates Lyra's true form across the arena. And he stares at her.
[Activating: Suppressing Gaze.]
[Capacity: 38/40 -> 35/40]
Lyra, fully concentrating on maintaining the traumatic illusion, suddenly feels as if an iceberg has crashed into her mind. Her concentration shatters. Her mana flow becomes chaotic. A terrible cold seeps into her soul.
The Vega Terra illusion flickers wildly, then collapses.
They return to the silent arena. Lyra staggers back, one hand clutching her throbbing head, her face pale with shock. "You... what did you do to my mind?"
Nihil approaches. He does not run. He does not attack. Each step is calm and inexorable.
"Your illusions are based on lies," Nihil says, his flat voice breaking the silence. "My strength... is based on nothingness. No lies can grow within an emptiness."
He stops several steps in front of Lyra. He does not draw a weapon. He simply looks at her, his deep crimson eyes seeming to draw Lyra's soul into a bottomless abyss.
Lyra Vex, one of the most talented illusionists of her generation, a noble of Silver Rank, looks into those eyes and sees the end of everything.
She drops her focus crystal. "I... surrender."
Nihil turns away even before the referee announces his victory. He has won the duel again, leaping from rank #250 to #75 in a single battle. He has humiliated Darius's second lieutenant. And he did it without causing a single scratch.
In the stands, Darius smashes the railing in front of him. In her balcony, Princess Selene smiles. And in her laboratory, Alina Sunstone mutters, "Mental control... fascinating."
Nihil has shown the academy that not even their minds are safe from him.
While Nihil battles in the arena, Velka Nocturne wages war in a far more deadly real world.
Accompanied by Tarek, now disguised as a surly delivery cart driver, she arrives at the gates of the Elite Silent Hill Sanatorium. From the outside, the place looks beautiful. An old, well-maintained castle surrounded by lush gardens. But Velka can sense something is wrong. The silence is too perfect. No birds sing. No wind whispers.
The guards at the gates are not knights, but "Order of Calm" nurses—large, hollow-eyed men in white robes from the Church of Life.
"Delivery of calming potions from the city apothecary," Tarek growls, presenting forged documents prepared by Duke Alaric.
One of the nurses examines the documents carefully. "Leave them at the guard post. We'll take them in."
"The orders are to deliver them directly to the head apothecary, Sir Valerius," Tarek replies, using a fake name.
The nurse hesitates, but the Duke's seal on the documents is genuine. He finally allows them entry.
Once inside the courtyard, Tarek begins his charade. He "accidentally" drops a crate of glass bottles, creating a loud commotion. "Damn it! Look what you've done!" he yells at one of the nurses, starting a fierce argument.
All attention is diverted. This is Velka's opportunity.
She slips away, moving along the cold marble corridors. The walls are pristine white. The air smells of antiseptic and the oddly sweet, nauseating scent of lilies. All doors are locked. Through the small windows of each door, she can see the patients—nobles who once held power, now sitting motionless in their rooms, their gazes empty. Calmed to numbness.
Following the blueprint provided by Alaric, she searches for the older, abandoned wing. There, she finds her mother's room. Number 314.
The door is unlocked. Inside, the room is empty and dusty, as if all traces of its occupant have been forcibly erased. Only an old iron bed and a barred window remain.
Velka examines every inch of the room. Beneath the heavy bed, she finds it. Faint scratches on the stone floor. Made patiently over months, perhaps with a button or a small nail. Her mother's elegant handwriting.
The last message.
Velka traces the trembling words with her fingers. The message is fragmented.
"THEY LIE... NOT MEDICATION... CONTAINMENT... MY CHILD... NIHIL... HE IS THE KEY... VOID IS NOT A CURSE... BALANCE... VALERIUS... MADE A DEAL... WITH THE CHURCH... TO HIDE... ANOTHER... VELKA... YOU... YOU ARE THE GA..."
The writing stops. Gag? Gate? Velka doesn't understand.
Suddenly, she hears approaching footsteps. She hastily pushes the bed back into place. The door opens.
An old man in a white doctor's robe, with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, stands there, flanked by two burly Order of Calm nurses. Chief Doctor Elric.
"Miss Velka Nocturne. What a surprise. We weren't expecting your visit," he says, his voice as smooth as silk. "You look exactly like your mother."
"I... I just wanted to see her last place," Velka says, trying to sound calm.
"Of course," says Doctor Elric. "But this wing has been closed. It's dangerous. Allow me to escort you back to the front."
As Velka steps forward, Doctor Elric doesn't move. "Some secrets, young lady, are best left buried with the dead. It's for the 'balance,' as you might understand."
He has just quoted a word from her mother's writing. He knows.
Velka freezes. This is a trap.
"I'm afraid your visit cannot end so soon," Doctor Elric continues, his smile fading. "We cannot allow anyone to disturb the peace of our patients. Take her to the Tranquility Room."
The two burly nurses step forward. Velka backs away, her hand reaching for her blade. But she knows she cannot win.
Just as they are about to grab her, a raspy, furious voice echoes from the end of the corridor.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Tarek Mornhall stands there, his deadly crossbow aimed straight at Doctor Elric's head. The deal is done. And he has come to collect his fellow conspirator.
"Seems like," growls Tarek, "the party's just getting started."