Rhys froze, his breath catching in his throat. His C-Rank Arcana Core was running on fumes, a terrifying 10/200 capacity. He was facing a B-Rank Furnace Agent—a dedicated killer sent by Karrus to eliminate the threat before it grew. The Agent's voice, calm and cruel, echoed through the vast, cylindrical chamber.
"The Core signature is weak, but the weapon is magnificent. The Flame Sentinel sends his thanks, Scavenger. I will be collecting both the blade and your life now."
Rhys's Arcana Vision painted the approaching threat in terrifying detail. The Agent, a woman in sleek, charcoal-gray tactical gear, moved with surgical precision. Her Core burned with a disciplined, massive, gold-white light—pure Furnace energy. She was an assassin, focused and lethal. Her name, according to the faint energy signature tracer she emitted, was Syla.
I cannot fight her. I cannot run. I have 10 Arcana Points left, Rhys thought, his mind racing through the calculations of survival. He was cornered.
He dismissed the idea of the Thermal Smoke Generator immediately. It cost 2,000 Credits, and even if he could access the terminal and complete the transaction without Syla detecting the power spike, it would only buy him seconds. Syla's Furnace Rank senses would cut through a simple B-Rank heat signature fog like a knife through butter. He would be cornered again, but this time, he'd be broke.
No. The gambit.
His eyes swept over the floor. The vast chamber was a graveyard of the Arcana Slugs he had just slain, covered in thick patches of their corrosive, purple-black venomous slime and the concentrated Corrupted Arcanum runoff. This toxic sludge was the only asset he had left. He had to turn this filth into a weapon.
"System," Rhys whispered, his voice dry. "I choose the Gambit. Use the last 10 points for a Steel Heart: Arcana Fuse within the Corrupted Slime."
[GAMBIT CONFIRMATION: CHANNELING LAST 10 ARCANA POINTS INTO THE CORRUPTED SLIME TO CREATE E-RANK EXPLOSIVE TRAP. ARCANA CORE WILL BE DEPLETED. HIGH RISK OF FATAL BACKLASH.]
[ARCANA CORE: 10/200 -> 0/200 (DEPLETED)]
[CONFIRM? YES/NO]
"Yes," Rhys breathed, gripping the Shadow-Edge Blade so hard his knuckles turned white. "Confirm."
The Zero-Sum Gambit
The execution of the trap demanded impossible focus. Rhys immediately dropped into the Steel Heart meditation stance, even as the Agent Syla began her slow, deliberate advance from the pipe junction.
He drew the last, painful drops of energy from his C-Rank Core. It wasn't just drawing the energy; it was structuring the energy into a highly unstable, reactive pulse—the Arcana Fuse. This required the fine control only a Lantern Rank could achieve. He felt the Core shrink, flicker, and finally go completely dark inside his chest.
[ARCANA CORE STATUS: 0/200. CRITICAL DEPLETION.]
[WARNING: SUSTAINED ACTION MAY RESULT IN DEATH.]
Rhys ignored the System warning flashing red in his mind's eye. He was already a dead man if he failed. He channeled the ten points of energy through his fingertips and into the closest, largest patch of the black slime.
The Corrupted Slime was highly reactive; it was essentially undigested, unstable Arcana. The moment Rhys's clean, structured energy touched it, the slime began to hiss and steam violently. Rhys was creating a chain reaction—his tiny fuse would destabilize the entire field of toxic runoff, causing a massive, area-of-effect discharge.
Rhys pushed the fuse to its limit. He had to place it perfectly: close enough to Syla's path to cripple her, but far enough away that the inevitable backlash wouldn't kill him in his depleted state.
Syla, the Agent, sensed the minute energy fluctuation. She stopped, her head tilting slightly, her Arcana Vision clearly detecting the unusual disturbance in the toxic air.
"A trap? Pathetic," Syla said, her voice dripping with contempt. "An E-Rank flash bang. Do you think Furnace Rank armor melts that easily, Scavenger?"
She was right; the raw blast would only be E-Rank, designed to disable low-level Drones. But Rhys's genius lay in the medium: the Corrupted Slime.
"It's not the rank of the Arcana, it's the toxicity of the medium," Rhys whispered, gritting his teeth.
He finished the fuse and, using the very last reserves of his physical strength, executed a lightning-fast Steel Heart: Retreat Dash. He launched his empty body backwards, leaping over a massive, rusted pipe, putting forty feet of distance and the heavy pipe between himself and the slime patch. He landed hard, his muscles screaming without Arcana to cushion the impact.
Syla took two steps toward the slime patch, confident in her armor.
NOW.
The Arcana Fuse detonated.
It wasn't a noble flash of light; it was a devastating, silent, implosion of corrosive filth. The entire slime field exploded outward in a massive, churning wave of black, bubbling sludge. It wasn't heat—it was a wave of pure, concentrated, venomous Corrupted Arcanum.
WHUMP!
The wave struck Syla with the force of a battering ram. Her Furnace Rank armor didn't break, but the specialized seals and active layers of her gear were instantly coated in the hyper-toxic sludge. The Corrupted Arcana immediately went to work, dissolving and short-circuiting her protective fields.
Syla screamed—a genuine, sharp sound of pain that cut through her armor's voice modulator. "The corrosion! It's too intense!"
Her Furnace Core immediately surged, attempting to burn the sludge off with pure Arcana. The gold-white light flared intensely, but the toxic sludge only hissed, sending up massive plumes of dark green smoke that choked the entire chamber.
[ENEMY SHIELD INTEGRITY BREACHED: 80%]
[ENEMY CORE STABILITY: UNSTABLE (Flickering Gold-White)]
[+50 ARCANA POINTS]
Rhys had succeeded, but he had paid the ultimate price: his Core was utterly empty. He was physically weaker than he had been as an Ember Rank Scavenger.
He clung to the pipe, his vision swimming, his body shaking uncontrollably. He had 50 AP, but they were useless without Arcana energy to fuel a purchase.
Syla was injured, her armor smoking, but she was a Furnace Rank Agent. She recovered instantly, clearing the last of the sludge from her visor. She was furious.
"You vile rat! You used poison! You will be incinerated for this insult!"
She discarded her short-range Arcana blade and drew two massive, curved Plasma Pistols . The energy from her Core, despite its instability, flowed freely into the weapons.
Rhys knew these guns. They fired concentrated bolts of B-Rank plasma. One hit, even a glancing one, would vaporize him in his current state.
He had no Arcana left to activate his Basic Arcana Shield. He only had the Shadow-Edge Blade (Level 2) and the cold, terrifying knowledge of the Steel Heart Martial Art.
The War of Attrition
Rhys used the only two things he had left: his speed and the unique power of his sword.
"Die!" Syla screamed, unleashing a torrent of bright blue plasma bolts.
Rhys moved in a blur. He didn't use Arcana for the speed; he relied on the pure, disciplined muscle memory of the Steel Heart training. He executed the Woven Serpent Step—a chaotic, zigzagging dash designed to evade ranged fire—using the rusted pipes and broken machinery as cover.
The plasma bolts slammed into the metal around him, melting the ancient pipes into dripping slag. The heat was unbearable, even from a distance.
"She's trying to cut off my movement!" Rhys realized, seeing how Syla was deliberately aiming to melt the pipes and collapse his cover.
He had to close the distance. He had to hit her.
He found his opening: a brief moment when Syla had to reload the energy packs on her pistols. Rhys erupted from behind a melted filtration unit, performing the Steel Heart: Low Crescent Slash aimed at Syla's exposed wrist joint.
Syla reacted with Furnace speed, dropping one pistol and catching the Shadow-Edge Blade on her armored forearm.
SHRIIING!
The impact was bone-jarring. Rhys's empty body felt like it was hitting a wall of solidified iron. But the Blade, fueled by its Level 2 evolution and the internal Corrupted Arcanum, bit deep. It didn't cut the armor, but it left a visible, dark crimson scorch mark.
[GALE WOUND ACTIVATED!]
The System confirmed the hit. The new ability, Gale Wounds, worked perfectly. The area around the crimson scorch mark on Syla's armor immediately began to bleed dark, toxic Arcana back toward her Core, disrupting her regeneration.
Syla roared, pushing Rhys back with a savage kick powered by her raw Furnace strength. Rhys tumbled, scraping his already raw shoulder, but the Blade's power had done its work.
"The corrosion! What is that weapon?" Syla demanded, clutching her wounded forearm. Her Furnace Core's stability immediately dropped from UNSTABLE to CRITICAL. Her high-Rank Core couldn't regenerate the way it was supposed to.
Rhys got back on his feet, spitting blood, his body feeling heavy and foreign without the support of his Core. "It's an Evolving Artifact," he managed to rasp, his voice raw. "And it just stopped your Core from healing itself!"
He pressed the attack, knowing he had seconds before her B-Rank Core overwhelmed the temporary crippling effect. He moved with the precision of a master, relying on the sheer balance and speed of the Steel Heart Martial Art.
He didn't strike for damage; he struck for the Mark.
Rhys began a furious, impossible dance of blades, aiming only for the vulnerable joints of Syla's armor: the neck seal, the hip plating, the knee hinges. Every time the Shadow-Edge Blade connected, even a minor graze, it left another dark crimson Gale Wound.
Slice! A mark on the knee.
Gouge! A mark on the hip.
Thrust! A mark near the shoulder pauldron.
Syla was forced onto the defensive, abandoning her second pistol and igniting a massive, pure Arcana shield of gold-white light. "Get away from me, pest!"
But the Gale Wounds were overwhelming her internal systems. Her Furnace Core was being systematically crippled. The golden shield flickered, failing to maintain coherence because the energy source—her Core—couldn't stabilize the flow.
Rhys saw his final, desperate opening. He feigned a strike low, forcing Syla to shift her unstable shield. As she did, he launched himself into a high, full-body spin, executing the Steel Heart: Heart-Shattering Ascent.
The Shadow-Edge Blade found its mark—the gap in the neck armor Syla had left open to vent the corroded energy. The blade plunged deep.
The sound was not metal on metal, but the catastrophic failure of a massive power source.
Syla froze, her eyes wide with shock behind the visor. Her entire body, encased in the heavy Furnace armor, went slack. The golden light of her Core vanished completely.
"I... will tell Karrus..." Her voice died as her body hit the ground with a deafening, final CRASH.
[FURNACE AGENT DEFEATED. +300 ARCANA POINTS]
[ENEMY WEAPONRY ACQUIRED: PLASMA PISTOL (X2). ENEMY ARMOR: HEAVILY CORRODED.]
Rhys stood over the fallen Agent, his chest heaving, his body slick with sweat, grime, and blood. The Shadow-Edge Blade pulsed faintly crimson, satisfied. He had defeated a Furnace Rank opponent with an empty Core. He collapsed, his knees giving out on the slick, toxic floor. He was alive.
Aftermath and Escape
Rhys had only a few minutes. The massive energy fluctuation and the sheer volume of B-Rank Arcana expended by Syla would be impossible to hide. Karrus would know instantly that his Agent had failed and that Rhys was the one responsible.
He used his last few ounces of strength to crawl over to Syla's body. He grabbed the two Plasma Pistols—powerful B-Rank artifacts—and stuffed them into the thick, inner lining of his scavenged coat. The Furnace armor was ruined by the corrosive slime and the final strike, worthless.
He didn't need the pistols now, but they were worth a fortune. He also managed to pull a small, hardened storage chip from Syla's belt—likely her mission data.
Rhys then began the slow, agonizing crawl out of the toxic chamber, his every muscle screaming in protest. He needed to get back to the neutral air of his outpost and inject his newly acquired 300 Arcana Points into his empty Core before another agent arrived.
The journey back was a blur of darkness and pain. He moved on pure willpower, fueled by the terrifying knowledge that failure meant incineration.
He reached the maintenance outpost hatch. He sealed it, secured the lock, and collapsed onto the metal cot.
"System," he forced out, his voice a hoarse croak. "Inject the Arcana Points. Now."
[INJECTING 300 ARCANA POINTS. CORE RECHARGING...]
A wave of clean, disciplined energy flowed into the void of his chest. The Core flickered, then roared back to life, stabilized and stronger than before.
[ARCANA CORE STATUS: 300/200 (OVERCHARGED)]
[NEW RANK: ARCANA LANTERN (C+)]
Rhys passed out instantly, the relief and exhaustion finally claiming him.
Section 6: The Stolen Sanctuary
Rhys awoke six hours later, shivering but fully conscious. He was stronger. His Lantern Core now burned with the bright, steady intensity of a C+ Rank, a massive gain from his near-death experience. He had a Core capacity of 200, and he had maxed it out and achieved an Overcharge of 100 temporary points.
[ARCANA CORE STATUS: 200/200 + 100/100 (OVERCHARGED)]
[CURRENT RANK: ARCANA LANTERN (C+)]
[CLEAN CREDITS: 0]
[INVENTORY: SHADOW-EDGE BLADE (LVL 2), OBSIDIAN COMPASS, PLASMA PISTOLS (X2), SYLA'S DATA CHIP, HEALING POTIONS (X1)]
He had survived, but he was completely broke. Karrus now knew Rhys was actively hostile and possessed an artifact that could cripple Furnace Rank armor. He wouldn't send another scout; he would come himself, or send a team of elite B+ killers.
Rhys sat up, the two Plasma Pistols—his new, illegal fortune—sitting on the workbench beside him. He needed information and time, but he couldn't afford either.