"Who is that?" a man from the crowd whispered, his voice trembling.
He pointed toward the shadowed archway, his finger shaking. The people around him didn't look. They were too afraid. In this arena, looking the wrong way meant death. They were cattle—gaunt, scarred, and broken by years of tyranny, huddled together in a silence so thick it felt like suffocation.
From the darkness, a figure emerged.
Lucian.
He moved with the fluid grace of a predator closing in on a wounded animal—each step slow, controlled, and filled with a quiet, terrifying hunger. The dust of the arena seemed to settle around him, afraid to disturb his path.
Karn paused, his boot hovering over the face of the last prisoner. He slowly lowered his foot, his gaze shifting to the stranger approaching him. A muscle in the warlord's jaw twitched, annoyance simmering beneath his battle-scarred skin.
Lucian stopped a few meters away, his hands resting casually in his pockets.
A growl laced through Karn's words, rough and dangerous. "Are you lost, kid?"
Lucian chuckled under his breath, the sound smooth and unhurried, carrying the unmistakable amusement of someone who already knew the ending of the story.
He raised a hand. Shadows coalesced in his grip, twisting and hardening until a black, spiraled horn materialized from thin air.
"Greetings. I have come to end your life. I do not expect you to make the process simple."
Karn blinked, taken aback by the sheer audacity. He did not fly into a rage; he did not roar. For a stranger to speak with such absolute certainty, especially to a Titan, they were either insane or strong.
Karn chose to observe.
"Tell me… do you even realize who you're dealing with?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
"Of course."
Lucian brought the black horn to his lips, coating it in a thin layer of aura.
"Subjects of Karn, behold. The stranger before you has arrived to free you from your chains."
The voice boomed through the arena, amplified to a god-like resonance that rattled the teeth of every spectator.
Karn's face twisted, a mix of bafflement and rising frustration.
The crowd murmured, but it wasn't the murmur of excitement. It was the sound of terror.
"Who is he?"
"Rescue us? He's going to get us all killed."
"Don't look at him. If Karn sees us looking, he'll crush us too."
They had seen "heroes" before. They always died screaming. Hope, in the Lawless Continent, was just another way to torture yourself.
Lucian continued, his amplified voice drowning out their fear.
"I've heard your so-called ruler treats you wretchedly, and that the horrors of the Lawless Continent make flight impossible. So let it be known—I Lucian, will slay him and claim his seat. Yet unlike him, I will govern with honor."
It was a seed planted with surgical precision. But the soil here was salted with blood. The crowd didn't cheer. They shrank back, terrified that Karn would execute them just for hearing the words.
Suddenly, the ground shook.
A tall man burst from the front row of the crowd. He was muscular, lean rather than bulky, with jet-black hair and icy gray eyes. He wore dark leather armor and carried a massive battle axe as if it weighed nothing.
Varro. The First Commander. The only man Karn allowed to stand in his shadow.
He charged straight for Lucian, the axe screaming through the air.
Lucian leaped backward—a simple, minimal movement. The axe smashed into the ground where he had stood a split second before, sending a spray of stone shrapnel into the air.
Varro didn't pursue. He wrenched the axe from the earth and hurled it toward the center of the arena.
"Your axe, boss."
Karn caught the weapon one-handed. He didn't look at the axe; he looked at Varro. A brief, almost imperceptible nod passed between them—the silent language of two monsters who had survived a decade of hell together.
Then, without hesitating, Karn swung the axe down.
Shlck.
The throat of the last prisoner was severed. The execution was complete.
Lucian didn't flinch. He looked at the bodyguard who now stood between him and the warlord, blocking the path with arrogant confidence.
Lucian offered a warm, deliberate smile.
"Did you not hear me? I have come to save you. No longer must you serve Karn out of fear. You are safe now, for I am here."
"Out of fear?" Varro spat, his tone deadly serious. He adjusted his stance, placing himself perfectly between Lucian and his king. "You really think I'm here because I'm scared? The boss saved my life. I'm his bodyguard—and taking out garbage like you is part of the job."
A faint smirk accompanying a restrained laugh came from Lucian.
"Oh? More challengers, you say? I do not mind. But my objective remains unchanged—I am here solely for the Old Beast."
Varro's aura flared, a jagged grey light surrounding him. "If you want the boss then you will have to go through me."
He blitzed forward—a blur of speed. He threw a punch loaded with crushing aura, aiming directly for Lucian's skull.
Lucian remained calm. He didn't dodge. He didn't block. He simply stood there, smiling.
The fist connected with Lucian's forehead.
And then—nothing.
No sound of impact. No shockwave. No recoil.
Just absolute stillness.
Karn watched intently, his brow furrowing. He leaned forward slightly, his grip tightening on his axe. He knew Varro's strength. That punch should have shattered a skull.
Varro leaped backward, staring at his own hand in confusion.
"What was that? It was like my attack just disappeared."
Lucian chuckled. "What you have just felt… is my Devouring Void."
"Devouring Void?" Varro narrowed his eyes. "Is that supposed to be your Technique? It's meant to devour my attacks, right? Then how did you create that black horn out of thin air earlier?"
Lucian just smiled. No response.
[Technique: Devouring Void
Lucian's innate Technique grants him total control over an entity known as 'The Void'—an endless, extra dimensional space that acts as a cosmic absorber. Upon contact, kinetic energy and aura are swallowed by The Void through the user's body. This energy is stored, compressed, and converted into two forms:
Black Matter: A hyper-dense substance used to create physical constructs.
Black Pressure: A heavy, concentrated energy used to increase the mass and destructive weight of the user's attacks.
Note: The Void absorbs energy, not matter. A physical object striking the Void loses all momentum instantly, dropping as dead weight.]
"You're not answering, huh?" Varro said, determination burning hotter in his eyes. "No matter. Let's find out how much of my attacks your Technique can actually devour."
He raised both hands. The ground began to groan.
Multiple jagged stalagmites of rock tore themselves from the earth, floating above his head like a halo of spears. He spun them, generating momentum, and launched them.
They flew straight for Lucian.
Lucian didn't move an inch.
The first rock struck his chest.
There was no impact. No sound of collision.
The moment the stone touched him, its kinetic energy was devoured instantly. The rock lost all velocity, all force. It simply died in mid-air and dropped to the ground at Lucian's feet with a dull thud.
The second rock came. Thud. It fell like a stone dropped from a hand.
Then the third. The fourth.
They piled up around his boots—a heap of harmless rubble.
A chorus of horrified whispers erupted from the crowd.
"Who is that guy?"
"He's taking the First Commander's attacks like they're nothing!"
"Do you guys think… he could actually beat Karn?"
"Don't get your hopes up. If Varro falls… Karn will just kill everyone in a rage."
Karn stood with his axe resting on his shoulder. But he was no longer relaxed. His eyes were locked on Varro's back, a flicker of genuine concern cracking his stony mask.
"As you can see, your assaults are insufficient to overpower The Void," Lucian said.
*So it can be overpowered,* Karn thought, his eyes narrowing.
The realization hit Varro like a physical blow. Nothing worked. His confident posture crumbled, replaced by wild, desperate motion. He looked back at Karn for a split second—a look of apology.
He squatted low, slamming his palms together.
"AHHH!"
His aura flared violently, shaking the arena walls.
"Let's find out how invincible you really are!" he shouted.
"I would indeed enjoy witnessing whatever grand display you intend to show me," Lucian said, his voice bored. "However… I can no longer permit you to stand between me and the Old Beast."
Lucian extended a hand.
Dozens of black rods materialized in the air—sharp, sleek, and darker than the night.
Before Varro could finish channeling his energy, the rods ripped through the air.
Thwack-thwack-thwack.
The sound was sickeningly wet.
They tore through Varro's chest, his arms, his legs. His momentum broke instantly. The mini-earthquake stopped.
Varro froze. Blood bloomed across his leather armor. He fell to his knees, his mouth opening as if to speak, to apologize to his king, but only blood spilled out.
He collapsed face-first into the dirt. Dead.
Silence reclaimed the arena. A heavy, suffocating silence.
Karn stared at the fallen body.
His massive frame trembled. The axe in his hand lowered slowly until the blade touched the dirt.
For a moment, the Old Beast looked… small.
Varro wasn't just a subordinate. In a world of traitors, cowards, and victims, Varro was the only piece that fit in Karn's puzzle. He was the only one who didn't flinch. The only one who stood by him not out of fear, but out of choice.
And now, that piece was gone.
Karn looked at the empty space where his friend had stood. It felt like looking into an abyss.
"At Last," Lucian said, stepping over a rock, his crimson eyes gleaming with sharp anticipation. "No more interruptions. I can indulge myself and witness the true depth of human strength."
Karn didn't hear him.
Step by heavy step, the warlord walked forward. His axe trailed in the dirt, carving a deep, jagged line behind him. The sound of metal scraping stone echoed like a funeral dirge.
His gaze never left the fallen body.
"To truly gauge human strength, our battle shall proceed in stages," Lucian announced, pacing sideways, oblivious to the emotional gravity—or simply uncaring. "In Stage One, I will confine myself to mere physical prowess—no Technique, no Aura. You, however, may employ all the power at your disposal."
Karn stopped over Varro's body. He stared down, his face unmoving, carved from grief and granite.
"Oh?" Lucian paused, noticing the genuine misery radiating from the giant. "A savage such as yourself… saddened by the loss of a subordinate? How unexpected."
Karn slowly looked up.
His eyes were red. The calm, arrogant menace was gone. In its place was a hollow, howling void. He looked like a man who had just realized he was truly, utterly alone in the world.
"I have never seen Karn this angry," someone in the crowd whispered, their voice trembling with a new kind of fear.
"No matter how strong that guy is, his dead," another murmured.
"Don't lose hope guys."
"You should stop getting your hopes up."
Karn turned his gaze to Lucian.
Then, the grief ignited. It didn't burn like fire; it burned like a star going supernova. His aura exploded, blowing the dust away in a ring around him, fueled by the desperate need to destroy the thing that had taken his only friend.
Stage One: Physical Prowess
Lucian grabbed a large, sharp boulder from the pile at his feet, testing its weight.
Karn charged.
He moved with terrifying speed, not out of discipline, but out of desperation. The axe swung in a lethal horizontal arc. Lucian threw the boulder. Karn sliced through the rock like it was smoke, his eyes locked on Lucian's throat.
The axe swept toward Lucian's neck.
Lucian raised his forearm, catching the haft of the axe. BANG. The impact shook the ground.
He responded instantly—a snap kick to Karn's midsection.
Karn skid backward, his boots carving grooves in the sand. He didn't pause. He didn't care about pain. He gripped the axe tighter and roared—a sound of pure anguish—and charged again.
He hurled the axe. Lucian caught it by the handle—but it was a distraction. Karn was already inside his guard.
A massive fist slammed into Lucian's stomach.
Lucian skid backward, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could recover, Karn was on him, fists raining down like hammers.
Lucian weaved, parrying with precise, surgical movements. He grabbed Karn's wrist, used the warlord's momentum against him, and flung him into the air.
Karn twisted mid-flight like a cat. He snatched his axe from the air as he fell, swinging it down with the force of a falling mountain.
Lucian blocked with his forearms.
CRASH.
The force sent Lucian flying. He smashed through the stone wall of the arena, disappearing into a cloud of dust and rubble.
In the crowd, hope flickered and died. They saw Karn's rage, and they knew nothing could survive it.
"Did you see that? He went toe to toe with Karn without using any aura," one spectator whispered, eyes wide.
"Look!" another shouted, pointing toward the hole in the wall.
Lucian walked out of the rubble. He was dusting off his shoulder, a serene smile on his face.
He started clapping.
"Excellent work. You have succeeded in the first stage. In the second, I will utilize only Basic Aura—no Techniques, and no Amplification."
[Basic Aura vs. Aura Amplification
Basic Aura: The fundamental manipulation of life energy. By directing aura through the body, a user enhances strength, speed, and endurance. It's steady, manageable, and leaves no visible trace.
Aura Amplification: An advanced combat state. The user rapidly compresses and releases aura in explosive bursts, causing it to flare visibly around the body. It grants immense power but burns through reserves rapidly. Demands both a strong body and intense focus to sustain.
It is the difference between pushing a nail with your hand and striking it with a sledgehammer.]
Stage Two: Basic Aura
Lucian moved.
This time, he was a blur.
He closed the distance in a heartbeat. Karn swung the axe, but Lucian was already inside the arc. A palm strike knocked the weapon from Karn's grip.
A right hook snapped Karn's head back.
Then a flurry—left, right, body, chin—each blow landing with the sound of a gunshot. Lucian's movements were liquid violence. He leaped, spinning in the air, and drove his heel into Karn's ribs.
CRACK.
Karn launched across the arena like a ragdoll. He smashed into the far wall, the stone spider-webbing on impact, and slid to the ground.
The crowd roared. Some cheered in disbelief, others screamed in vindication. The impossible was happening.
Lucian picked up the fallen axe. He weighed it in his hand, then tossed it aside.
"I believe the time has come for you to unleash more of your strength."
Karn lifted himself from the debris. His breath came in ragged heaves. His eyes burned with a hate that transcended pain. He looked at the spot where Varro lay dead.
He screamed—a primal, guttural sound of loss and fury.
His aura shifted. The invisible pressure thickened, becoming visible. His skin began to shimmer, turning a metallic, polished silver.
Stage Three: The Iron Titan
Lucian rushed first.
He swung a heavy punch. It connected with Karn's forearm.
CLANG.
The sound rang out like a church bell. Lucian's fist stopped dead against the silver skin.
Karn didn't flinch. He threw a hook. Lucian dodged and landed a clean counter on Karn's cheek.
CLANG.
It was like punching solid steel. Lucian smiled, intrigued.
He unleashed a rapid-fire barrage. Punches, kicks, elbows—all of them rang hollow against the metallic hide.
And then, the tide shifted.
Karn moved. Faster than before.
He ducked a hook, his speed suddenly doubling. All the silver aura rushed to his right fist, glowing with blinding intensity.
He punched Lucian in the gut.
BOOM.
Lucian flew backward, skidding across the entire length of the arena before digging his heels in to stop.
*I see…* Lucian thought, straightening his coat. *His Technique hardens him so thoroughly that even my attacks struggle to move him. Yet how did he gain such speed in the midst of battle? He did not activate 'Advanced Aura Mode'. Perhaps… a Gift?*
"It looks like Karn is making a slow comeback," a spectator muttered nervously.
"It is because of Overdrive," another explained, his voice hushed. "His Gift that makes him stronger and faster with every hit he takes during battle."
"I think this Lucian guy is still going to win. Right now, he isn't even taking Karn seriously."
*Lucian,* came Malphas' voice, dry and bored in Lucian's mind. *If you think he's going to enter 'Advanced Aura Mode', think again. He simply doesn't have 'Advanced Aura'.*
[Advanced Aura
A state of power attainable only by humans who achieve perfect alignment of their aura particles. It is a completely separate and far more potent energy than ordinary aura. Advanced Aura flows with unmatched precision, unlocking abilities and physical limits previously thought impossible. It is the mark of a true master.]
Lucian paused.
*So you knew all along… and chose not to tell me. How unfortunate,* Lucian responded internally, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. *It breaks my heart… especially when I hoped this moment would deepen our 'Soul Pact'.*
*Honestly, I just wanted some entertainment… and I got exactly that.*
*Well… this is not the opponent I sought. I will end this swiftly. Your show must come to an end.*
Lucian and Karn stood at opposite ends of the ruined arena. The crowd went silent. They knew this was the end.
Stage Four: The End
Karn roared. He slammed his foot into the ground.
"IRON STOMP!"
The earth screamed. Massive boulders tore through the ground, weaving toward Lucian like serpentine leviathans.
Lucian didn't move to dodge.
He tightened his right fist. Black particles began to swirl around his hand, the air groaning as gravity bent toward his fingers.
Black Pressure.
As the snaking earth reached him, the massive, silver figure of Karn burst through the rubble, winding up for a death blow. His face was a mask of tears and rage.
The Old Beast vs. The Demon Prince.
Karn screamed one last time—for Varro.
Lucian remained silent.
Lucian threw a single punch.
It met Karn's stomach.
There was no sound of impact. No clang of metal.
There was only erasure.
The black energy detonated. Karn's entire midsection simply ceased to exist—pulverized into atoms by the overwhelming force of the released pressure.
Top half. Bottom half. Nothing in between.
Karn's eyes went wide, the light fading instantly. For a split second, the rage vanished, leaving only peace. He was finally going where Varro went.
His torso fell backward with a wet thud. His legs collapsed a second later.
Lucian stood over the remains, his fist still smoking with black aura.
The silence stretched for one second. Two.
Then—pandemonium.
The crowd erupted. Screams of joy, tears of relief, voices rising in a unison chant of freedom.
Lucian's gaze lingered on the scattered remains at his feet—the severed halves of the "Old Beast" lying in the bloody dust. His posture remained composed, but the subtle shift in his shoulders betrayed his internal discontent.
"It appears my pursuit of formidable human strength must continue."
Then, he raised his head. His crimson eyes swept over the cheering crowd, each cheer falling neatly into his control. A slow, deliberate chuckle escaped him.
Soon, they would have to choose between the Demon King's Covenant or…