The cheers from Eve's victory had barely died down before the arena staff began resetting the field.
The air still carried the faint scent of ozone and scorched earth from the previous battle.
Lucas strode forward without a word, his polished boots clicking against the stone. I followed at my own pace, hands in my pockets, feeling the weight of every gaze in the stands shift toward us.
We stopped at opposite ends of the circular combat zone. Silence stretched between us like a taut wire.
Aldi, standing at the edge, swallowed visibly and raised his voice.
"Then… let's begin. Both sides ready—?"
"No problem," Lucas answered immediately, voice flat and bored. "Just start."
"O-okay…" Aldi glanced at me, ears twitching nervously. "Um, isn't he strong? Jirei, are you *sure* you're okay? Like… really sure?"
I gave him the smallest nod. "I'm fine."
Aldi hesitated one last second, then raised his paw.
The "Battlefield" activated.
A blinding wave of magical light exploded outward, washing over everything. When it cleared, the luxurious arena had vanished. We stood in the center of a vast, lifeless wasteland—blackened soil cracked like old leather, distant horizon blurred by heat haze. Nothing grew. Nothing moved. No cover, no mercy.
Perfect.
I rolled my shoulders once. Finally, a place where I didn't have to hold back.
Lucas broke the silence first, voice low and mocking.
"…D-rank. I'll at least give you credit for your courage."
He drew the holy sword slowly, almost ceremonially. The blade caught the dim light and ignited—crimson flames licking along the edge like liquid blood.
I tilted my head, letting a lazy smirk tug at my lips.
"Courage? Might want to pick a better word. You're gonna feel pretty stupid in about five minutes."
Lucas's sneer deepened.
"Don't make me laugh. I actually find the defiance of the weak kind of… charming. In a pathetic sort of way." His eyes narrowed. "Still utterly reckless, though."
He looked at me the way someone might look at a bug that refused to die after being stepped on—annoyed, but certain.
"…But you know what really disgusts me?"
His expression soured further. "Your entire little circus. You. That black-haired stalker woman. The white mage who suddenly thinks she's hot stuff. You should all just shut up and obey. It's unpleasant."
He clicked his tongue loudly, face twisting.
"But do you know what I hate *most* of all?"
He practically spat the name.
"…Reti."
The word hung in the air like poison.
My expression didn't change, but something cold and sharp coiled in my chest.
"Just looking at her makes me want to vomit," Lucas continued, voice dripping venom. "Her attitude. Her stance. The way she thinks. Her entire pathetic existence… everything about her infuriates me."
He ground his teeth audibly.
"The absolute worst part is that *she's* the hero. I hate that fact more than anything. If I can steal the holy symbol, I'll rip that title away from her by force. She's nothing but garbage—so why the hell should *she* get to be the hero—?"
"Shut up."
I didn't raise my voice.
The single command cut through his rant like a knife.
Lucas raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Oh? Did I touch a nerve? You probably feel the same way deep down. If you're weak, just act weak. Live a life that matches your station—"
"Didn't you hear me say 'shut up'?"
In the space of a single heartbeat I closed the entire distance and thrust the black sword forward—tip hovering a hair's breadth from his left eye.
Lucas's pupils dilated slightly. For the first time, genuine surprise flickered across his face.
But he didn't move. Didn't blink.
There was only one question that mattered.
"What did you do to Reti?" Before this first fight with Rafine and Wisdom, Reti wasn't in her right mind. She was too timid, passive, and afraid of this guy.
The air around us thickened with my magic power—dense, oppressive, enough to make the ground tremble faintly. Most adventurers would've dropped to their knees by now, peeing their pants, or shaking in fear.
Lucas didn't flinch.
Instead, his lips slowly curled into a delighted, almost sadistic smile.
"Ohhh… I see."
He leaned forward just enough to make the tip graze his eyelash. "So Reti is *important* to you. That's actually interesting."
"…That's not what this is."
"Then why are you shaking like that?"
He chuckled softly. "Strange man."
"I'm just doing what I want."
My voice was calm. "Whether she matters or not doesn't change the fact that you're going to answer."
Lucas hummed thoughtfully. "Hmm… Whatever. Not my problem anyway."
He tilted his head, still smiling that infuriating smile.
"So? What did I do to Reti, you ask?"
"Answer. Now."
"Ku ku ku… You really want to know?"
His eyes gleamed. "Fine then—"
I tightened my grip. One wrong twitch and this would end in less than a second.
"—Beat me first."
His grin widened. "Then I'll tell you."
The moment the words left his mouth—
His body melted like wax, dissolving into nothing.
"Detection."
"High-speed calculation."
"Parallel thinking."
I kicked off the ground hard, opening some distance between us, while my mind accelerated to a razor edge. The world crawled. Information poured in like cold water.
A heartbeat later, my detection field—now stretched across the entire wasteland—snapped onto multiple targets.
"—!"
Lucas's voice echoed from every direction at once, overlapping, a chorus of mockery.
"You want to know what I did? Then fight like your life depends on it. And then fall into despair you pathetic D rank."
In the next instant, hundreds—no, thousands—of holy swords materialized in mid-air and rained down from every possible angle.
I used "Transfer" and vanished, reappearing twenty meters back.
The ground where I'd stood exploded into a forest of blades. Each sword was different. Each radiated divine power strong enough to shred barriers like paper.
If I'd tried to block, I'd be skewered.
"You dodged," Lucas's voice echoed from somewhere. "Not completely hopeless, then."
I stayed silent. Raised the black sword again. Pushed my thoughts faster.
…What the hell kind of cheat is this?
A hero receives *one* holy sword.
So how does he have an army of them?
"You look confused," the voices taunted. "Wondering why I have so many holy swords?"
Before I could answer—
He appeared behind me. No sound. No warning.
I barely parried. Sparks flew. We exchanged a furious flurry of blows—steel screaming against steel—before I broke away, leaping back.
"What's wrong?" Lucas laughed. "All that bravado earlier, but you're not so impressive after all. Don't disappoint me now."
Even though I'd retreated, he was suddenly right beside me again.
A horizontal slash almost grazed my cheek.
I steadied myself, wiped my cheek with the back of my hand feeling if he left a gash on my handsome face. Luckily, there was none and I stared at the "Lucas" in front of me.
Then at the second one my detection had tracked.
"Reality and Illusion" I said, matter
"I see…" Lucas said, sounding mildly impressed. "You're not entirely clueless. I'll give you that much."
"I don't want your praise. It's disgusting."
I kept both versions in my field of view.
"You can draw out the power of past heroes, can't you?"
For the first time, genuine surprise flashed across both faces.
"…Impressive. You figured it out quickly."
He chuckled, low and pleased.
"That's right. I can pull the sealed power from the holy swords of past heroes… and create as many perfect copies as I desire."
He spread his arms slightly. "A fitting ability for someone as gifted as me, don't you think?"
"…It's just a cheap knockoff."
"How rude."
The spell—"Real and False Illusion"—was a fusion of dimensional and illusion magic, originally mastered by the legendary "Illusion Hero."
The standard version creates flawless decoys and allows instant body swaps.
The Illusion Hero's version went far beyond that.
It let him spawn any number of illusions instantly, anywhere in his line of sight.
Combined with dimensional magic… it became something truly terrifying.
"One, two, three… about ten right now?" I asked.
"Thirteen." Lucas shrugged. "If you count the ones I've already dismissed, over a hundred."
He said it like he was discussing the weather.
"…But how did you realize I could draw power from *other* heroes too? I haven't even shown you that yet."
"Are you serious?"
I snorted. "You've been swinging a dozen different holy swords this whole fight. It's obvious."
Lucas touched his chin, then nodded slowly.
"…Hmm. Good point. My mistake."
I almost laughed out loud.
This guy's actually kind of an idiot.
"…Well, since you're so curious," he continued, "I'll tell you one more thing. My talent doesn't stop there."
"Huh? You sure you want to show your whole hand this early?"
"Understand this," he said coldly. "I'm going to crush you until you give up in absolute despair. You don't want to end up groveling like a worm, do you?"
"That's very thoughtful. I didn't ask, though."
Lucas ignored me.
He spoke one quiet word.
"…This."
Instantly, the sky lit up.
Magic circles—hundreds, then thousands—bloomed across the wasteland. They covered the ground, floated in the air, ringed the horizon. Pale blue light swallowed everything.
No chant.
No preparation.
Just… there.
I scanned them quickly.
"Polar Flame"
"Water Dragon Formation"
"Thunder Command Spear"
"Dark Light Mass"
"Abyssal Vortex"
"Celestial Judgment"…
Top-tier spells. Five-element magic. Special-attribute magic. Several Emperor-class circles.
No God-class, at least.
"I can use every kind of magic," Lucas said, grinning wide enough to show teeth. "No limit to simultaneous casting. Chanting is optional."
He sheathed his holy sword with a flourish and looked at me with pure contempt.
"And it's not just magic. Swordsmanship. Spearmanship. Hand-to-hand. Tactics. Strategy. I have talent in everything."
He spread his arms. "Because I am the 'Chosen Hero of [Talent].'"
I couldn't hold it in anymore.
A dry, humorless laugh escaped me.
"…What the actual hell are you?"
He was strong.
Insanely, unreasonably, disgustingly strong.
A walking violation of fairness itself.
"What will you do now, D-rank?"
His eyes said everything: *Just give up. It's over.*
I slowly lowered the black sword… then dismissed it into thin air.
Lucas's face turned bored. He looked away, interest evaporating.
"Surrender," he said flatly. "We don't waste time on the weak."
"…Yeah. You're right."
I bowed my head slightly, hiding my face.
And then, in the most pathetic, mocking voice I could muster—
"You're right… I guess I have to surrender."
Lucas blinked.
"…What?"
"I said, 'I have to give up.'"
I lifted my head, smiling. "Are you deaf? Want me to call a healer for your ears?"
His expression twisted—first confusion, then anger.
"…Are you an idiot?"
I kept smiling.
"No. I'm perfectly sane. I just know that's *all* you've got."
"…Enough of this nonsense."
Lucas's eyes went ice-cold.
"I'm ending this."
He opened his clenched fist.
Thousands of magic circles flared to blinding life.
Every spell launched at once—aimed only at me.
A cataclysmic storm of impossible power.
…Yeah.
This guy is seriously broken.
I've never seen anyone so unfair, so overwhelming, so disgustingly talented.
I sighed.
Not out of fear.
Mostly because I was irritated at myself… and at this arrogant bastard who dared look down on me after everything I'd clawed through.
He's strong, sure.
But—
I refined my magic power.
Deployed my spell.
"I already told you."
The next thing Lucas saw was—
Every single one of his thousands of spells… perfectly canceled out.
Same type.
Same power.
Every last one.
Nullified.
The wasteland went eerily silent.
I looked straight into his stunned eyes.
"I'm stronger than you."