The Last Step

Celia's perspective:

I'll do this. No matter how much it pains me to take just one step forward, I'll keep going.

Right now, I was standing against the strongest cursed wielder recorded in history—the Queen of Curses from 500 years ago. And from what I had said just minutes ago, Evelina had no intention of going easy on me.

I forced myself to stay calm. If I panicked, I'd be crushed in an instant. I had to analyze my strengths.

Right now, I had my Cursed Chains for defense and Withering Touch for offense. But as for her? That was still unknown to my senses. All I knew was that her curses were far superior—far beyond anything I had encountered. The cursed magic basics book I had read back at Levi's home made that very clear.

A shiver ran down my spine as I looked at her.

Her cursed aura spiraled around her like a living entity, an oppressive force under the blood moon's glow. It was almost as if the moon itself had chosen to spotlight her, recognizing her as something beyond human.

I clenched my hand against my chest, taking a deep breath. This is it. A chance to prove myself.

Evelina's voice rang sharp through the air.

"Oh my, so eager to be humiliated? Shall we start now?"

I took note of her tone—mocking, confident, as if this wasn't even worth her attention.

I steadied myself and met her gaze. "We shall, then."

And just like that—the battle began.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

She stood still, waiting, anticipating my first action. Her eyes gleamed with amusement, as if she were simply curious to see what I'd try.

Fine. I'd make the first move.

My plan was simple: use my Cursed Chains to block her attacks, then close the distance and drain her cursed energy with Withering Touch. If I could weaken her enough, I could bring her to her knees.

I leaped forward, summoning my chains from my back. They coiled like serpents, latching onto the ground as I used them to propel myself forward, accelerating my speed. The force sent a powerful shock through the air, the ground cracking beneath the pressure.

And yet—

Evelina didn't move.

She stood there, watching me with a smirk. As if I were nothing. As if I were no threat to her at all.

I lunged forward, my cursed chains tightening around my arms as I swung them toward Evelina. The plan was to use their weight to feint an overhead strike while coiling another set around her legs—force her to react, then punish her when she made a move.

But the moment my chains lashed toward her, Evelina simply raised a single finger.

"Condemn," she whispered.

A pulse of black energy burst from her feet. My chains stopped mid-air, shuddering violently before crumbling to dust. The backlash hit me instantly—I felt my own curse energy recoil like a whip snapping against my soul. I gritted my teeth and fell back, skidding against the ground.

I had to keep moving. If she could disrupt my curses with a word, I needed to engage her physically.

I sprinted in, pushing past the numbness spreading through my arms. Withering Touch ignited in my hands, a dark mist curling around my fingers. The moment I got close, I twisted my body low and struck forward, aiming for her exposed side.

Evelina sighed, her crimson eyes gleaming. "Scorched Affliction."

Heat. Blistering, suffocating heat engulfed the air between us. A spiral of flames roared into existence, swirling like a living beast before slamming straight into my gut. Pain exploded through my nerves. The force alone sent me hurtling backward, my body twisting in midair before I crashed onto the dreamy floor.

I gasped, struggling to breathe. My cursed chains instinctively coiled around me, blocking some of the flames, but not enough.

I coughed, trying to steady myself. The moment I pushed off the ground, Evelina was already moving. Her steps were slow, deliberate, as if she had already planned out the next few minutes of my defeat.

I had to shift tactics. If direct offense wouldn't work, then I needed to outlast her. Defense. Counterplay.

I raised my arms, and my cursed chains reformed, weaving together into a thick shield in front of me. No matter what she threw at me, I'd use my defenses to stall her out. She had to tire eventually.

Evelina tilted her head, amusement dancing across her face. "Is that all?"

She lifted her hand, her fingers tracing intricate shapes through the air.

"Grief's Embrace."

The ground beneath me darkened, an inky abyss stretching outward. From within it, twisted, skeletal hands erupted, clawing toward me. The moment they touched my cursed chains, they didn't break them—no, they corroded them. The metal rusted in seconds, turning brittle before snapping like twigs.

Panic flashed in my chest. I jumped back, but the skeletal hands followed, grasping at my ankles.

A shrill laugh left Evelina's lips. "You're so focused on what you can block, you never consider what slips through the cracks."

I barely twisted out of the way in time, my feet scrambling against the ground as I stumbled back. My breath came in ragged pants. I was losing, badly.

No. I clenched my fists, my cursed magic flaring. I refused to let this end like this. I still had one more option.

I forced myself to breathe steadily. If none of my previous strategies worked, then I had to do something completely unpredictable.

A reckless, all-or-nothing move.

I let my cursed energy surge, fueling it with my frustration—no, my anger at myself. My helplessness. The humiliation burning under my skin.

I dashed in, feinting another attack, but this time—at the last second—I dropped low, using my chains to pull myself beneath her guard. My hand shot forward, Withering Touch active, aiming straight for her exposed stomach.

Her eyes widened slightly.

For a split second, I thought I had her.

But then—

"Nullify."

A single word.

My entire body locked up.

A crushing force slammed down on my soul, cutting off my curse energy in an instant. It was as if my own magic had been yanked from me, leaving me completely exposed.

I couldn't move. My arms refused to lift. My legs felt like lead.

Evelina smirked, pressing a single finger against my forehead. "Checkmate."

With a flick, she sent me sprawling back onto the floor.

I groaned, lying there, staring at the blood moon above. My body ached. My pride stung worse.

Fourth strategy: failed.

But—

I exhaled slowly, my mind already replaying the battle. Each failure. Every mistake.

Evelina didn't just counter my attacks—she exploited the flaws in my thinking.

I had been too predictable. I relied on my chains, and she severed them. I tried direct attacks, and she shut them down before I could even land a hit.

She wasn't just stronger. She was efficient—using only the exact amount of effort needed to dismantle me.

I clenched my fists. I can't beat her with strength. Not yet.

But she had given me something far more valuable.

Information.

I swallowed the frustration in my throat and pushed myself up. My legs wobbled, but I stayed standing.

Evelina arched a brow. "Still have fight left?"

I met her gaze, determination settling in my chest.

I had lost. Badly.

But the next time I attacked…

I wouldn't make the same mistakes again.

My cursed chains weren't enough on their own. But what if I stopped treating them as just weapons and started treating them as something more?

I let out a slow breath, reaching deep into my emotions—the ones that fueled my magic. The frustration of failure. The burning desire to prove myself. The cold, gnawing fear of being weak.

I let them simmer beneath my skin. And then, I moved.

Evelina's smile widened as I lunged forward, my chains erupting from my back.

"Ah, again? Celia, darling, if you insist on repeating the same attack, I'll have to start questioning your intelligence."

My chains lashed toward her, aiming for her blind spots. She sighed, stepping aside with effortless grace, already raising her hand to sever them again—

And then she hesitated.

Just for a fraction of a second.

There.

My cursed chains had changed.

The moment they left my body, I had coated them with Withering Touch. Weakening them—yes—but also inflicting a withering effect that spread along their length. The moment Evelina tried to cut them, the decay latched onto her magic, withering the force she used against me.

It wasn't enough to stop her.

But it was enough to delay her.

And that delay was all I needed.

I twisted midair, using my own chains as leverage to launch myself past her defense. Her eyes widened as I closed the gap, my hand already reaching for her—

She dodged. Just barely. But even as she avoided my strike, she couldn't stop the decay from licking at the edges of her cursed aura.

A single, delicate chuckle escaped her lips.

"Oh, how interesting."

I didn't let her recover. I pressed forward, my chains now a living, decaying force that twisted unpredictably. Each strike didn't aim to restrain her but to disrupt her rhythm, forcing her to react rather than control the pace of the fight.

Her movements grew sharper, less casual.

I was getting to her.

I could feel it.

And for the first time—Evelina was on the back foot.

She sidestepped, flicking her wrist to dispel my chains again—only for the decay to eat at her magic before it could fully sever them. She clicked her tongue, amusement flickering in her expression as I forced her to dodge rather than counter.

This time, I wasn't just reacting to her.

I was controlling the flow.

I darted forward again, exploiting the slight delay my withering effect gave me. My footwork sharpened, each movement deliberate. My chains lashed from every angle, warping unpredictably, forcing her to waste effort dodging.

She was faster. She was stronger. But she was no longer in control.

For the first time, it felt like—

I could actually win.

And that's when I saw it.

That moment. That tiny, flickering moment where she lost her casual grace—where my next move could actually hit her.

I lunged.

My chains surged forward. I reached out with Withering Touch, ready to finally land a decisive blow—

But then—

Her smile returned.

And the world shifted.

Before I could react, the air around her warped with an overwhelming presence—one that swallowed my magic whole.

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

No way…

She had been holding back.

"That was adorable, Celia," Evelina purred, her tone smooth yet laced with something far deadlier. "But let's be serious now, shall we?"

The next second, she vanished.

I barely had time to register before pain exploded in my gut—a precise, devastating strike to my stomach that sent me flying. I barely managed to flip midair, gasping for breath as I landed on unsteady feet.

She wasn't just using magic now.

She was using cursed combat.

And I was about to learn why she was called the Queen of Curses.

My feet barely touched the ground before Evelina was on me again.

"Tremble, O fragile bones—become naught but dust."

Her voice rang out like a whispering curse, sinking into the air like ink spilling into water. Before I could even react, black tendrils of cursed magic wrapped around her limbs—melding into her movements like an extension of her own body.

She blurred.

No—faster than that.

I twisted, trying to react, but she was already there.

A fist, coated in decaying ash, slammed into my ribs.

I barely had time to feel the pain before another blow followed—a knee to my side, a palm strike to my chest, a sweeping kick that shattered my balance.

She wasn't just hitting me.

She was destroying me.

I couldn't keep up.

My body screamed as I tried to move, but she was relentless. Every time I dodged, she was already attacking from another angle. And every strike—every cursed-infused attack—ate away at my magic, my stamina, my strength.

"Winds of the forgotten, take root in my steps—lighten, sharpen, erase."

A pulse of magic.

And suddenly, her movements became untraceable.

She stepped, and the wind itself carried her forward—her form flickering like a mirage. I lashed out with my chains, trying to predict where she'd go next—

But I missed.

Completely.

Damn it.

I barely caught sight of her smirk before a boot crashed into my shoulder. The force sent me skidding across the ground, my knees scraping against the stone as I barely caught myself.

My breath hitched.

I was losing.

Fast.

Evelina sighed, rolling her shoulders. "Oh, Celia, you looked so confident just a moment ago. What happened?"

I gritted my teeth, forcing my body to stand.

"Fire, insatiable and untamed, burn within—consume, rage, spread."

Her hands ignited in blackened flames. Not normal fire—cursed fire. The kind that didn't just burn flesh—it burned magic itself.

My heart pounded.

She's layering magic effects. Using different cursed enhancements for speed, power, destruction—all at once.

I had never fought someone who could do this.

I can't counter it. I can't—

No.

I sucked in a breath, shaking the panic away. Think, Celia.

I wasn't out yet.

I had adapted once.

I could adapt again.

I clenched my fists, pushing past the fear.

She wanted to overwhelm me? Fine.

Then I'd make sure she never saw what was coming next.

Pain shot through my ribs as Evelina's fist drove into my side.

I stumbled back, barely catching my footing before another kick crashed into my thigh, sending me reeling. My body screamed at me to stop, but I forced myself to keep moving. If I stopped, I'd lose. If I hesitated, she'd end it.

I ducked under a swipe of her cursed flame-coated hand, but even the air around it burned against my skin. She's layering multiple curses at once.

I gritted my teeth, my mind racing. How is she fighting?

She wasn't just hitting harder or moving faster. She was shifting between different enhancements—seamlessly.

Her footwork had become unnaturally light after her wind enhancement, her strikes gaining a frightening level of precision. She wasn't just throwing punches—she was placing them in the exact weak spots I failed to defend.

Then there was the cursed fire.

"Fire, insatiable and untamed, burn within—consume, rage, spread."

It wasn't just an attack. The curse was designed to weaken. Every hit burned away at my magic, not just my body.

And the worst part?

She wasn't fighting with raw aggression. She was toying with me.

I could feel the emotion fueling her magic—entertainment. Excitement. A twisted thrill.

She enjoyed this.

But beneath that, there was something deeper. Something darker.

Boredom.

She was used to winning. She wasn't fighting with rage or hatred—she was just... having fun.

That made it even worse. Because if she got serious, I wouldn't stand a chance.

I have to change this fight before she gets bored of holding back.

I twisted my body, barely dodging another strike, my mind snapping to another observation.

Weaknesses—If Any

She was relying on magic for every action. It made her movements unpredictable, but at the same time, it gave me something to track.

She always activated an incantation before enhancing herself. Even if it was fast, it was still a moment of delay.

A moment I could use.

My breath came out ragged as I barely rolled away from another attack, forcing a smile onto my lips.

Time to stall.

I straightened up, forcing myself to stand with a casual air despite the pain ripping through my body. I cracked my neck, letting my exhaustion show just enough to bait her curiosity.

"Wow, Evelina, you really love bullying your students, huh?" I huffed, shaking out my arms.

Evelina arched a brow, her cursed flames flickering. "Oh? Giving up already?"

"No, no, I just realized something," I grinned, tilting my head. "You keep saying all these dramatic incantations before fighting, but like… what if you just threw hands normally? You scared you'll lose if you don't?"

Her lips curled into a smile. "My, my, Celia, trying to get inside my head? That's adorable."

Good. She's playing along.

I forced a casual shrug. "Hey, I'm just saying, all this magic enhancement makes it look like you can't fight on your own. Kinda suspicious."

Evelina chuckled, rolling her shoulders. "You're cute, Celia. But don't think I don't see what you're doing."

My heart thudded.

She saw through it.

But—

She didn't attack.

That's all I needed.

I took a slow breath, feeling my pulse slow. The moment of rest had given me time to think.

Evelina was relentless, but I had already adjusted to that.

She was using pure, calculated offense, mixing elements and curses with such seamless efficiency that she had no need for defense. Her attacks weren't just powerful—they were tailored to break me down, physically and mentally.

Yet, even in the storm of her assault, I felt something else creeping in.

Instinct.

My body had already begun reacting on its own, responding not just to logic, but to an unconscious understanding of her rhythm, her flow.

I wasn't just processing her attacks.

I was feeling them.

Then blend it. Logic and instinct. Think, but don't overthink.

My mind raced through the possibilities.

If I couldn't match her raw speed, I had to change how I delivered my attacks.

Chains.

I had been using them wrong.

Up until now, I summoned them as defensive tools, reactionary—too slow, too predictable.

But what if I made them an extension of my body?

Not shields.

Limbs.

I could use them to feint, to strike, to disrupt her footing—force her to move how I wanted.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the familiar weight of my magic.

This will work.

I didn't hesitate.

Flick.

A chain lashed out from my wrist, whipping toward Evelina's face.

She tilted her head, dodging effortlessly—

But I had already sent another from my other hand.

This time, she had to shift her footing.

A reaction. A small one.

But I caught it.

And I pressed forward.

Flick. Chain. Flick. Chain. Step.

The weight of the chains felt natural, like they had always belonged to me.

Every movement I made sent them snapping forward, each strike flowing into the next.

Evelina dodged, weaved, evaded—

But her flow had changed.

She wasn't moving as effortlessly.

She was adjusting to me.

I felt it then.

A shift inside me.

This wasn't just a new tactic.

This was mine.

A way of fighting that I could push further, refine, master.

The more I moved, the more it felt right.

My mind sharpened, instincts burning bright as I entered something deeper—a state of complete focus.

Every breath, every step, every flick of my wrist—it was all one, a single motion in the dance of battle.

I grinned.

Then I laughed.

A wild, reckless thrill surged through me, the raw excitement of finally finding my own edge, my own style.

My heart pounded, adrenaline flooding through me, and without thinking—

I threw my head back and screamed—

"THIS IS SO FUN!!!"

While Celia was constantly adapting to her attacks and movements, the world continued to move in its time. This brings forward the preceding fight between The Sword Saints of God-Speed and Technique.

Levi's Perspective:

Two hours. That's how long it had been since I last spoke to Sylvia and Alina. Time spent preparing, making sure everything was set for this ridiculous little "event" they called a battle.

Honestly, Sylvia is a genius for this. She's running a damn circus, and I'm the star attraction. The arena's packed, and people are shelling out gold like it's nothing. But hey, if that's what it takes to get Alina to lend us a hand against the swarm, then I'm all in.

The thing is, Alina... She's a tough nut to crack. Cold, detached, and she only moves when there's something in it for her. I get it, though. People like her don't stay warm for long. Life's been nothing but pain for her—abandonment, betrayal, rejection. It breaks you. You either let it destroy you, or you harden up and make sure no one can get close enough to do it again.

I walked through Sylvaris, taking in the sights. The place was a marvel, honestly. Shops lined the streets, their bright banners flapping in the wind. The noise of the crowds echoed, voices shouting deals, calling out to each other. Technology everywhere. Steam-powered carts rolled by, and the air smelled faintly of metal and oil. Some fancy place for a fight, huh?

I passed a boy standing in front of a shop, his eyes wide with uncertainty. His hands fidgeted, but he wouldn't go inside. He just stared at the door. Like the world itself was too big for him to enter.

"Hey, kid." I said, crossing the street without breaking my stride. "You waiting for the shopkeeper to come to you?"

He flinched, startled by my sudden approach.

"Go in, man. Don't let whatever's in there scare you," I said, leaning down and tapping him on the shoulder.

The kid looked up at me, unsure. "But… what if I mess it up?"

I grinned. "Then you mess it up. Big deal. Get back up and do it again. Life's one big game of trial and error."

He swallowed, but then his lips twitched upward. "You really think I can do it?"

I ruffled his hair, "Hell yeah. Now go for it."

He took a deep breath, looked at the door one last time, and stepped inside. I watched him, my eyes narrowing as a weird feeling crept in. A part of me almost wished I could've had someone like me back when I was his age.

I shook my head. Don't go getting sentimental, Levi.

My mind shifted to darker times. To the grotesque swarm a few years ago. The faces of Emma and the others... The memory of that day when I ran. When I turned my back and ran like a coward, leaving my village and family to die over fear.

That's why I don't hesitate anymore. That's why I stand my ground and charge headfirst into battle. No running. Not again.

I can't be that person. I won't let fear control me. Not anymore.

The streets blurred as I walked, the noise around me fading as my thoughts twisted back to the swarm.

The stakes are higher now. Levinton's at risk. The swarm is coming. I can't fail.

I clenched my fist. I'll beat Alina. Get Requiem on our side. I'll do whatever it takes.

A grin tugged at my lips as I saw the entrance to the arena in the distance. This... This was going to be fun. And I don't care how serious it gets, I'm excited for it.

I cheered out loud as I walked toward the entrance. "WOO! LET'S GO!" The sound echoed in the air, and a few people nearby turned to stare.

Some shook their heads, probably thinking I was a lunatic.

I noticed the looks and, for the first time today, I felt a little... shy?

"Ugh, okay, okay. Shut up, Levi. Stop being weird," I muttered, putting my hands in my pockets and walking a little faster to avoid any more stares.

As I reached the arena, the crowds were already gathered, their voices loud and eager, waiting for the action. The heat of the place was almost tangible, the air thick with anticipation. I spotted a vendor selling tickets, a man sitting at a small booth just outside the entrance.

I walked up to him, casually leaning against the booth.

"How many tickets sold?" I asked, a smirk forming.

"Over 300," the man said, glancing at me. "Five gold each. Big crowd for the battle."

"Five gold? That's a solid chunk of change," I chuckled. "Sylvia made a pretty penny off of me."

I did the math quickly in my head. 300 tickets. Five gold each. That's 1500 gold.

"Damn, she's using me like a fighting tool and raking in the profits. I should charge her a fee for this kind of treatment," I laughed, shaking my head.

The crowd gathered in the stands roared as I made my way inside, the buzz of excitement making me feel like a gladiator in the arena.

I passed through the narrow hallway that led to the guarded room where the qualifiers were waiting. The stone walls were cold, and the dim lighting made everything feel more tense. At the end of the hall, I could already see her.

Alina.

She stood, her back straight, arms crossed. No smile. No expression. Just... waiting.

"Nice to see you didn't bail, Alina," I said, strolling into the room with my usual cocky grin. "You've been standing there a while. Were you hoping I'd chicken out or something?"

She didn't flinch, didn't even acknowledge my presence right away. But I could see the subtle tension in her shoulders. She was ready.

And so was I.

I cracked my knuckles, feeling the rush of adrenaline spike through me. This wasn't just a fight. This was a chance to prove that I could win—no hesitation, no fear. Not ever again.

"Let's make this a good one, Alina," I said, voice lowering just a bit, the playful tone fading for a moment. "For our titles as Sword Saints."

Then I let out a breath, feeling the excitement build. It was time to get this show on the road.

Celia's Perspective:

I swung, and my chains moved like whips, slashing through the air in synchronized precision. My hands flicked, and the cursed chains danced, extensions of my limbs, striking, retracting, blocking. I was fighting differently now—blending my movement with my weapons instead of treating them as separate tools.

And it was working.

Evelina grinned, eyes shining with delight as she weaved between the strikes. Her footwork was perfect, her dodges sharp, but I could feel it—this time, I wasn't just defending. I was keeping up.

"Oh? Getting creative now, little Celia?" Evelina purred mid-dodge, her body twisting effortlessly between the lashes of my chains. "I like it. Makes you… entertaining."

I smirked, my breath heavy, but my heart pumped with exhilaration. "And here I thought you were getting bored." I twisted, one chain coiling around my arm as I slammed my elbow forward, forcing her to evade. "Guess I'm more fun than you expected."

Her laugh was melodic, amused. "Oh, you have no idea, darling."

Then her hand flicked up.

"Curse Art: Infernal Veil."

The air sizzled, and in an instant, a wave of black fire surged toward me. I snapped my chains forward, clashing against the cursed flames, feeling the heat lick at my skin. But I was already moving—sidestepping, redirecting, slipping through the narrowest openings before I could be consumed.

She didn't let up.

"Curse Art: Shattered Frost."

A pulse of icy mist exploded from her palm, shards of black ice streaking toward me like jagged knives.

I crouched, kicking off the ground to flip backward. My chains struck the ice mid-air, shattering the projectiles before they reached me. The temperature around us dropped sharply, my breath visible in the cold air.

"That all you got?" I taunted, landing smoothly, chains snapping back to my arms.

Evelina's lips curled, predatory and pleased. "Oh, sweet girl, I'm just getting started."

She dashed forward, faster than before, her movements sharper. Her hands crackled with shifting energy, her next spell already forming.

"Curse Art: Blood Conviction."

A deep crimson glow erupted around her fists, seeping into her skin like ink.

My instincts screamed at me to move. I barely had time to cross my chains in front of me before her fist slammed against them. The impact rattled through my bones, sending a shockwave through my arms. My feet slid back. She wasn't just enhancing herself—she was multiplying her strength, her blows heavier, faster.

I exhaled sharply, adjusting my footing. Adapt. Don't panic.

She followed up, relentless. Left hook—dodge. Spinning kick—I barely raised my chains in time to deflect, but the force sent me skidding.

Evelina clicked her tongue. "You're blocking too much, dear."

I gritted my teeth. She was right. I needed to find an opening.

But then something shifted.

I wasn't just reacting anymore. My body was moving on instinct—blending my chains into my movements, flowing seamlessly between offense and defense.

She struck. I twisted. My chains lashed. She evaded. We moved in perfect sync, like a dance, attacks and counters blurring together.

Faster. Stronger.

This was it.

This was fun.

I laughed, breathless but exhilarated. "This—this is amazing!"

Evelina's eyes gleamed. "Then show me more, Celia."

And I did.

I feinted left, baiting her into dodging. The second she moved, I snapped my wrist, sending a chain whipping toward her blind spot.

It struck.

Evelina's eyes widened as my chain slammed against her side, knocking her back.

For the first time—she stumbled.

I grinned.

"Got you."

Evelina's expression changed.

The playful amusement that had danced in her violet eyes moments ago faded, replaced by something colder—something serious.

I saw it. I felt it.

And yet, I grinned.

She was done playing. And I was ready.

"Let's end it, then," she said, her voice smooth, yet final.

Then she raised her hands.

A whisper—low, chilling, laced with malice—slithered through the air.

"Nihil tenebris devoret. Animam involvat abyssus. Damnatio aeternum."

The moment the words left her lips, the entire battlefield trembled.

I barely had time to react before the world itself seemed to darken. Shadows pooled around her feet, twisting, contorting, expanding into an abyss that swallowed all light. A cursed aura so dense, so vile, suffocated the air, wrapping around me like invisible chains. My lungs seized. My skin prickled.

And then I felt it.

My cursed energy—vanishing.

Gone.

My eyes widened. My heart pounded.

No, this wasn't just suppression. This was erasure.

Her malice wasn't just overwhelming my cursed magic—it was devouring it.

This is impossible.

My fingers twitched, trying to summon my chains again, but they barely flickered before disintegrating into nothing.

And then I saw it.

Curse Art: Sepulchrum Infernum.

A crack in space itself ripped open behind Evelina. From its depths, a void of writhing black tendrils emerged—each one pulsing, shifting, whispering in voices I couldn't understand. The ground beneath me rotted, black veins crawling outward like an infection. The sky above fractured, as if reality itself was protesting the existence of this magic.

Then the tendrils moved.

They reached for me, dragging through the air with a slow, sickening elegance, each one oozing with a presence beyond mere death—this was suffering incarnate.

I forced my body to move. I willed my chains to defend.

They shattered.

I gasped as the pieces of my own magic scattered into the void.

There was no blocking this. No escaping this.

I was going to die.

Evelina's power was absolute—she lived up to the title of Queen of Curses for a reason.

The strongest cursed magic wielder in history.

My breath hitched. My legs locked. My body refused to move.

I watched, helpless, as the cursed tendrils surged toward me—

And then—

A sharp inhale.

My eyes snapped open.

The world had changed. No battlefield. No Evelina.

Just the dim glow of Levi's home. The soft fabric of the couch beneath me. The quiet hum of the world outside.

I was still here.

I gasped, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I shot my gaze around the room, trying to ground myself.

Emma was gone. She must've left without waking me.

Slowly, I looked down at my hands, then ran my fingers over my arms, my legs—nothing. No wounds. No pain. No cursed scars.

I swallowed hard.

"If that had been real…" I muttered under my breath.

I clenched my fists.

I would have died.

I exhaled, forcing my breathing to steady.

And then, my eyes landed on the front door.

This was it.

I had found it—my style.

Using my chains as extensions of my body, blending them into my movements, shaping my cursed magic to flow with them.

All that remained… was learning. Growing. Perfecting.

My gaze shifted slightly, drawn to the bookshelf beside me.

The basics of cursed magic. I had placed it there a few days ago, it was time to master that book.

I reached out, fingers brushing the spine of the book.

It was time.

My vow rang in my mind.

I'll get stronger.

I'll save Kaiser from those grotesques.

I exhaled, pushing off the couch and rising to my feet.

Determination surged through me.

This is only the beginning.

I was ready.

Celia reached out and opened the book, her eyes quickly scanning the spells and cursed magic within. There was so much more to learn, so much more that could make her stronger. This was just the beginning of her journey.

Meanwhile, far from Celia's growth, Levi and Alina's fight was about to begin—the deciding battle that would determine the future of Levinton.

Levi's Perspective:

Five minutes. That's all we had left before the arena doors opened. I could already hear the roar of the crowd, their cheers and chants reverberating through the thick stone walls. The energy was electric, and I could practically feel the anticipation buzzing in the air.

Sylvaris wasn't the most charming town, but damn, they sure knew how to put on a show. The people gathered here were from all walks of life—nobles, merchants, adventurers, guild members—and they were all here for one thing: to see Alina and me go at it.

The crowd was packed, every seat taken. Some people were leaning forward, eyes wide, others laughing and chatting, but I could spot the Requiem Guild members scattered across the stands, their eyes sharp and observant.

They weren't here for entertainment. They were here to see if Alina could win. As if they didn't know how this would go.

I glanced at the entrance, waiting for the signal. The tension built in me, but I wasn't nervous. Not even close. This was just another day, another fight, another chance to show how far above everyone else I was.

Then I turned to her. Alina stood against the wall of the guard room, her arms crossed, her icy stare fixed on the empty floor ahead. If she was nervous, she didn't show it. Of course not.

She didn't show anything. She was like a machine, all logic and no heart. But that was the thing with people like her. Cold, calculating, ruthless... She only cared about the outcome.

What does she gain from this fight?

I walked over, stretching my neck and cracking my knuckles a bit more with a grin. "Hey, Alina." I leaned against the wall beside her, studying her. "You feeling nervous yet? You know, this is my arena, right? I'm kind of the main event here."

She didn't look at me. Didn't even blink.

"I'm not the one who's going to be on the receiving end of the crowd's disappointment," she said flatly, her voice colder than the room. "It's you they'll turn to after you fail."

I chuckled, folding my arms over my chest, matching her stance. "Oh, please. If I fail, they'll be too busy bowing down to my greatness to care. You, on the other hand… If you lose, well, what's left for you? Another failure to add to the pile?" I leaned in just a little, my voice lowering with a teasing edge.

"You're a tough one, I'll give you that. But even tough ones get broken, you know."

She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting mine with the kind of coldness that made the air feel a few degrees cooler. "I don't break," she said, her voice devoid of even the faintest hint of emotion. "I eliminate the weakness. Adaptation is simply a matter of survival. And I will survive. You won't."

I raised an eyebrow, amused. "Adapt? Sure, that's one way to look at it. I'm more of the 'crush everything in my way' kind of guy. But hey, we'll see which strategy wins today, won't we?"

She didn't respond. She didn't need to. Her eyes already told me everything. She was calculating, assessing the situation, figuring out what to do if things didn't go her way.

That's how she worked—always five steps ahead, never rushing, always in control.

I grinned wider, stretching my arms out a little. "I'm kind of curious though. How does someone like you feel before a fight like this? I mean, you must have some feelings deep down, right? Or is that all just a lie you tell yourself?"

Her eyes flicked to mine for a moment, and I swear I saw something flicker there—something... unsettling. "Feelings are irrelevant," she said, her tone as detached as ever. "Emotions don't win battles. Only logic and power do. And I have both."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. Logic and power, huh? But sometimes, you've got to throw a little chaos into the mix to really stir things up. It's what I do best."

She didn't react, just nodded slightly, as if she was already preparing for the inevitable. She had her plan, and she wasn't going to let anyone distract her from it. But me? I loved the chaos. I thrived in it.

I stood up straight and brushed a hand through my hair. "Well, whatever. Let's get this over with, Alina. The crowd's waiting for me to win. And you? You're just the next stepping stone." I winked at her. "Don't worry. I won't be too hard on you."

Alina's lips barely twitched, a sharp, cold smile forming at the corner of her mouth. "I don't need your pity. I'll take everything you give me and crush you under it."

I couldn't help but laugh. "That's the spirit! I'd expect nothing less."

The energy in the room was palpable, the crowd outside buzzing like a swarm of angry bees, eager for the first strike. I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle, though—this was going to be fun.

"So, tell me, Alina," I said, resting my hand on the hilt of my sword, the ever-present smirk on my face. "What's your strategy? You're obviously not just relying on that icy attitude to win, right?"

She didn't flinch. Her voice came out like ice slicing through the air. "I don't need a strategy. I just need to be better than you."

"Ah," I said, nodding with mock respect. "I see. No plans, no tricks. Just you, alone, with your gifts. What if you're wrong, though? What if I'm better than you? What if you don't have what it takes to win?"

Alina's violet eyes flashed with a hint of something sharper than before, but she didn't break. "Then I'll break you. It's as simple as that."

I couldn't help but laugh again. "Good answer. Very straightforward."

Then, something shifted in the air, a strange tension forming between us. I tilted my head, curious about something that had been bugging me ever since I got here.

"By the way, I've gotta ask," I said, voice dropping slightly. "Who are you fighting for, Alina? Who's the one that's got you so dedicated? Sylvia told me a little, but I'm sure there's more to it."

She didn't respond at first, her eyes narrowing as if she was calculating something, thinking deeply. For a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer. But then, after a long, suffocating silence, she spoke.

"How much did Sylvia tell you?" Her tone was cold, almost questioning, but not quite. More like... testing.

I nodded. "She did, just a little."

Alina's expression softened just the slightest bit, but the coldness still lingered. "Everything I've done... everything I've become, has been because of him," she said quietly.

"The one who saved me. He gave me the strength, the willpower to continue. Without him, I wouldn't be standing here." Her voice was steady, but there was something unspoken, something buried deep beneath her words.

I tilted my head. "Him?" I asked. "Can I know a little about him? What makes him so special?"

She paused, her eyes hardening as she looked away for a moment. "He was just a few years older than me. It happened four years ago, when I was eleven."

Her tone turned colder, more distant. "I was nothing back then—alone, abandoned. He found me, saved me from dying in the forest. He cared for me when others didn't. He didn't pity me. He taught me how to survive, how to fight. Everything I have now, everything I've done... it's because of him."

She clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing. "I owe him everything. And I'll never forget that."

My mind froze for a moment. Eleven? That was... that was way too young to have been through something like that. I blinked a few times, processing her words.

Wait, eleven? That meant… I stared at her for a second, feeling a weird mix of confusion and surprise. I mean, she looked young—really young—but I didn't realize just how young she was.

Holy crap. She's fifteen?

I mentally recoiled. Here I was, an eighteen-year-old fighting a fifteen-year-old girl who could kill me. It felt… weird. Way too weird.

I had to admit it to myself: she wasn't just some kid. She was powerful, calculating, and she wasn't going to hold back.

She must've caught the look on my face because she smirked, the cold gleam in her eyes sharpening even further. "I may be the youngest Sword Saint, but I'm still blessed with the gift of Technique." Her voice dropped to that same icy tone, like a blade being drawn from its sheath.

"And I will be the one to win, Levi."

I snapped back to reality, my grin returning. "Sure you will. But in case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of unbeatable."

I cracked my neck, my confidence back in full force. "You're a great fighter, Alina. No doubt. But you're fighting me now. And I'm the strongest. I've never lost a fight, and I'm not about to start with you."

Alina's eyes locked onto mine, colder than I had ever felt before. "Your strength is meaningless," she said, her voice like ice. "I don't fight for titles, Levi. I fight to win. And I will crush whatever delusions you have about being the strongest. You're just another obstacle in my path."

I grinned, feeling that familiar thrill surge through me. "Crush my delusions? Cute." I stretched, not bothered in the slightest. "But here's the thing, Alina: You think you can beat me, but you're not facing some random obstacle. You're facing the guy who makes the impossible look easy. So, try all you want. But when it's over, you'll know exactly who the strongest is."

I gave her a wink, completely unfazed. "Spoiler alert: It's me."

Alina's gaze remained icy, her voice cold as steel. "You should consider yourself lucky, Levi," she said, her words sharp like a blade. "In your life, you've only fought those weaker than you. But now, you face someone who's already beyond what you've ever encountered. If I were your age, this fight would be over before you even realized it."

She took a step forward, her eyes narrowing. "But for now, you'll get to experience what true power feels like. And when I crush you, you'll understand exactly how far out of my league you really are."

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing through the tension in the air. "Say whatever you want, Alina," I said, my grin wide and carefree. "Talk all the big talk you need, but the fact remains—you're not getting past me."

I cracked my knuckles, my confidence radiating like a force. "So go ahead. Build your little fantasy. But when the dust settles, I'll be the one standing. I'll be the one holding victory."

My smile turned even sharper. "And trust me, I will win."

Alina didn't say a word after that. Her lips barely moved, but I could see it in her eyes—the cold confidence, the unshakable belief that this wasn't going to be one-sided. She wasn't just standing there; she was calculating, waiting, knowing exactly what she was capable of.

I could feel the weight of her resolve, thick and suffocating, and I realized this wasn't going to be as easy as I'd hoped. She was ready for this fight, just as determined as I was. For a split second, I wondered if she had the strength to back up her words.

But then, that familiar thrill surged again, and I shook it off. This wasn't over yet.

Then, from outside the room, we heard it—the thunderous roar of the crowd, growing louder by the second. The battle was about to begin.

Without another word, we both turned, walking toward our respective entrances. The weight of the crowd's excitement pressed down on my chest like a physical force, and I grinned, feeling the adrenaline surge through me. This was what I lived for—the thrill, the heat of battle.

As I stepped into the arena, I glanced around at the massive crowd, their cheers filling the air. My heart pounded. It didn't matter that I had to fight someone as dangerous as Alina. This was where I belonged.

And there she was, standing at the opposite end of the arena, fully geared up in her distinctive clothes that were amplified to be like armor. The black and silver plates of her chestplate gleamed in the light, her violet eyes glowing with a cold, almost unnatural light. In her hand, she held her legendary sword, the blade reflecting the sun's rays as if it were alive.

Her stance was perfect—calm, poised, ready to strike at any moment. Her violet eyes never wavered, scanning the arena, calculating her next move.

I couldn't help but admire her sword. It wasn't just any blade—it was a work of art. The hilt was intricately designed, the pommel shaped like a twisted vine. The steel shimmered with a strange aura.

I knew that sword had a history. I'd heard of it—the blade that had once belonged to a fallen king.

I pulled my own sword from its sheath. It wasn't legendary, not like hers, but it was mine, and that was all that mattered. I ran my fingers over the smooth surface of the blade, the familiar weight in my hand steadying my nerves.

"You ready for this?" I muttered under my breath, feeling the rush of excitement surge through me. I was going to win this.

The crowd roared again, the countdown starting.

Ten... nine... eight...

I looked across the arena at Alina one last time, and she looked back at me, her expression unreadable.

Three... two... one...

The word "GO!" rang out, and in an instant, both of us charged forward, the ground trembling beneath our feet as we closed the distance between us, ready to clash in a battle that would decide everything.

And with that, the world seemed to stop.