I Awakened The SSS Class Abyssal Warlord

Damien coughed, but his grip on his sword tightened.

And then—

It happened.

A dark energy erupted from his body, ominous and all-consuming, ripping through the air like a black storm.

The change was instant.

His flesh turned a sickly shade of purple, veins bulging, muscles pulsing with unholy power.

His eyes burned with raw destruction, a gaze that spoke of nothing but carnage.

Oliver's expression darkened.

This wasn't a skill.

This was something else.

Before he could think further—

BOOM!

The enhanced Damien charged, moving faster than he ever should have been able to.

The battle had just begun.

****

The Crucible had no laws.

No rules. No mercy. No justice.

It was a pit of chaos, where survival was the only law and strength was the only judge.

Bloodshed was entertainment. Pain was currency.

The only thing that mattered was winning.

It didn't matter how you won.

Poison? Allowed.

Artifacts? Encouraged.

Betrayal? Expected.

And that's why Damien could use the artifact without fear of disqualification.

That was his opponents' problem.

This was a battlefield where anything went, and only the strong had the right to leave alive.

The artifact given to Damien by the mysterious man had a name:

Abyss Heart.

A relic of dark, forbidden power.

Its effect?

It forcefully pushed a person's Meta Essence to the absolute limit of their rank.

It enhanced their body, senses, and combat ability beyond natural constraints.

It even slightly improved their Meta Essence quality.

But the price was steep.

The user's lifespan will be devoured.

Every second they used it, years of their life vanished.

But Damien didn't care.

This was for his family.

If he won this battle, the organization would revive them.

If he won, his disease would be cured.

If he won, he would be happy again.

So he charged.

With a roar, Damien exploded forward, moving like a force of nature.

His greatsword, now crackling with unstable energy, swung straight at Oliver's neck.

But—

Oliver sidestepped effortlessly.

Damien's sword whistled past him, missing by inches.

Yet Damien didn't stop.

Before Oliver could fully regain his stance, Damien twisted his body, following up with a brutal horizontal slash.

Oliver leaned back, dodging by a hair's breadth.

But the attack didn't stop there.

The sword, still surging with enhanced power, continued toward Tariq's battle.

Tariq's opponent had already been beaten bloody.

Disoriented, dazed—he barely knew where he was.

So he never saw it coming.

SHRRK!

Damien's sword cleaved through him like paper.

The blade sank into his skull, splitting his body down the middle, from head to groin.

For a moment—there was silence.

Then—

SPLURT!

The two halves peeled apart, blood gushing onto the battlefield, bones cracking as they collapsed to the ground.

Tariq—who had barely dodged in time—stared, his face twisting in shock.

Damien's own teammate had been cut down in an instant.

And yet—Damien didn't even notice.

His eyes were locked on Oliver.

His breath was ragged, his pupils wild with blood lust.

Damien attacked. He was fast, brutal, and relentless.

His greatsword cut through the air like a guillotine, aiming to split Oliver in half.

But Oliver moved with precision—his dagger met the blade, deflecting it with ease.

CLANG!

The sheer force of Damien's strike sent shockwaves through the battlefield, but Oliver didn't falter.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Blow after blow, they clashed, moving at speeds difficult to follow.

Oliver aimed for Damien's eyes.

But Damien's instincts—honed from years of experience—kicked in.

His sword whipped upward, deflecting the dagger just in time.

He retaliated instantly, swinging for Oliver's neck—

But Oliver angled his dagger, letting the massive blade slide off harmlessly.

The battlefield around them shattered under their blows, the sheer pressure leaving cracks in the stone.

On the other side of the arena, Damien's teammates fell one by one.

The first to die was the man battling Dante.

BANG!

A single gunshot echoed through the arena.

His head snapped back, a gaping hole formed where his forehead had been.

His lifeless body collapsed instantly, blood pooling beneath him.

The two fighting, Aiko and Lina, didn't fare any better.

At first, they held their ground, using teamwork to defend against the relentless assault—

But the tide of battle shifted.

Lina's daggers blurred, striking with pinpoint accuracy.

Aiko's barriers restricted their movements, preventing retreat.

And then—

SHLICK!

Two deep cuts to their throats.

Their eyes widened in shock.

Blood gushed as they choked, collapsing onto the battlefield.

Dead.

Tariq?

He was already done.

Thanks to Damien's wild, uncontrolled slash.

Oliver's entire team stood victorious.

They could intervene.

They could help Oliver finish Damien off.

But—

None of them moved.

BOOM!

The air shook.

Shockwaves erupted from the battlefield.

Oliver and Damien moved too fast for them to see—their forms a blur.

Weapons clashed, sending sparks flying.

The ground beneath them cracked under the sheer force of their blows.

It was a battle beyond their level.

Their bodies froze in place.

None of them could do anything—

All they could do was watch.

And pray.

One of them, standing at the edge of the battlefield, looked on.

But their mind was elsewhere.

Lost in thought.

Damien's breath came in ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling like a man on the brink.

But his eyes—

They were wild, desperate, unyielding.

This wasn't just about winning.

This was about his family. His life. His only chance at salvation.

He moved his hand.

And Oliver felt it immediately—

A shift in the air. A pulling force, like space itself collapsing inward.

Something was wrong.

His instincts screamed at him.

MOVE.

And he did.

WHOOSH!

A moment later—

BOOM!

A perfect black sphere appeared where he had just stood.

It hovered, swirling with ominous energy—

Then collapsed inward.

The ground caved in.

A crater—perfectly hollowed out, as if reality itself had been erased.

Oliver's eyes narrowed.

That wasn't just any skill.

That was a death sentence.

If he got caught in that…

He would be waking up in his room the next day.

He finally understood.

This was Damien's true skill.

The skill Damien had used was called Null collapse, it was the skill of his class, void executioner.

The skill trapped matter itself inside a black sphere. Once activated, the sphere imploded, crushing everything within it to nothingness.

This is the reason why Damien was feared… the reason they called him "Damien the Crusher."

Damien exhaled sharply, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a snarl.

His voice, low and guttural, rang through the battlefield.

"You're fast."

"But can you dodge forever?"

He raised his hand again.

And Oliver knew—

This fight had just entered its final phase.