"Dragon Fist: Pulse Breaker."
That was what I would call it.
For a brief moment, everyone fell silent.
Never in the history of duels or battles had Beast Hunting Cross been countered.
Most people dodged it through overwhelming speed.
Others attempted to block it.
A few reckless individuals had even tried to tank it.
None succeeded.
The technique ignored conventional defenses, inflicting true, irreversible damage. Combined with Glipnir's effects, it was considered a guaranteed finishing move.
And yet—
there I stood.
My fist still released gentle draconic mana that warped the surrounding space.
Untouched.
Uninjured.
Unfazed.
I had created the world's first technique canceler.
Unlike most game worlds, there were no levels here.
Experience points existed, but they were used differently.
EXP could be invested into increasing stats, upgrading skills, improving techniques, and most importantly—
awakening.
However, ever since I had awakened as a Dragon Knight, my EXP counter had remained completely stagnant.
Or so I thought.
The moment Pulse Breaker shattered Lucien's sword aura, it was as though a dam burst.
Numbers flooded my vision.
100.
101.
105.
1,000.
1,475.
2,003.
4,003.
Finally—
5,000.
Five thousand experience points.
An amount that would normally take an average awakener nearly two years to acquire.
I had earned it in a single day.
My status window appeared before me for the first time in its entirety.
Name: Astaroso Alsar Lucifero Ashford
Title: Soul Walker
Race: Avalonian
Species: Dragon
Subspecies: Human
Class: Dragon Knight
Subclass / Archetype: Pyromancer
Skills Fireball Lv.1 Fire Sword Lv.1 Dragon Aura Lv.1 Dragon Scale Lv.1 Techniques Dragon Fist Lv.1 — Pulse Breaker Resources
Mana: 15,000
EXP: 5,000
Stats
Power: 550
Strength: 550
Defense: 1,100
Stamina: 2,050 / 2,050
Intelligence: 250 (+4,750 from Dragon Bloodline)
Speed: 400
Resistances Elemental Damage Immunity Status Ailment Immunity 60% Damage Resistance
I stared at the screen with little emotion.
The only things that truly caught my attention were the title Soul Walker and the information icon pulsing beside it.
At the very top corner sat a symbol that signified my skill tree.
Unfortunately, I didn't have time to investigate.
I immediately spent my EXP.
550 into Power.
550 into Strength.
400 into Defense.
100 into Speed.
The remaining points I held onto for the moment.
The effect was immediate.
Energy surged through my body.
Mana coursed through my veins like lightning and thunder.
Every muscle tightened.
Every sense sharpened.
I felt stronger.
Faster.
More complete.
Without hesitation, I launched forward.
Lucien was already preparing another sword stance.
One finger rested against the edge of Glipnir.
A small cut appeared on his fingertip.
Blood trickled down the blade.
The moment it reached the tip—
the sword turned crimson.
I immediately recognized the technique.
A dangerous one.
Lucien swung.
A single straight slash.
"Crimson Execution."
A faint red sword aura shot toward me.
Faster than Beast Hunting Cross.
Far faster.
But it would meet the same fate.
"Pulse Breaker."
I punched.
The space before my fist rippled.
The crimson aura vanished instantly.
Erased.
Just like the first one.
That annoyed Lucien.
A lot.
For the first time since the fight began, his smile faded.
Then he stopped using finesse entirely.
Sword arts flooded the arena.
One after another.
Like a boss monster entering its final phase.
Every strike came faster than the last.
Every technique met the same end.
Pulse Breaker.
Pulse Breaker.
Pulse Breaker.
Again and again.
Until I noticed the trap.
Techniques didn't consume mana.
They consumed stamina.
And my stamina had already dropped to six hundred.
Lucien, meanwhile—
had over six hundred thousand.
At this rate, I would collapse long before he even felt tired.
So I made a decision.
I dumped the rest of my EXP into Strength and Speed.
Then I charged.
Thirty feet disappeared instantly.
In less than a heartbeat, I stood before him.
One-inch punch position.
Perfect alignment.
Perfect timing.
"Dragon Fist: Wall Breaker."
BOOM.
A deafening impact echoed across the arena.
Lucien's chest caved inward visibly.
The force launched him backward like a cannonball.
He crashed through the arena wall behind him.
Stone exploded.
Dust filled the air.
In most arenas, that would have been a ring-out.
Not here.
In the Ashford Arena, victory was achieved only when your opponent died.
Or became too broken to continue.
After three seconds—
Lucien emerged from the rubble.
His chest was crushed inward.
He vomited an alarming amount of blood onto the arena floor before casually walking back.
"Damn, little brother."
He laughed while wiping blood from his mouth.
"You almost killed me."
He tapped his ruined chest.
"That hurt."
His eyes narrowed toward my gauntlets.
"You sure those are the same gauntlets I gave you?"
He grinned.
"That felt like taking a full swing from Gaidon's mace."
Gaidon.
The second Emperor's Blade from Elarion.
Bearer of the Steel Hercules Beetle Bloodline.
A shield knight famous for mountain-shattering strength and nearly impenetrable defenses.
Not a comparison made lightly.
I merely shrugged.
My stamina had fallen to three hundred and fifty.
The fatigue was becoming noticeable.
Every breath felt heavier.
Every movement slower.
I couldn't afford a prolonged battle.
Lucien charged again.
Sword raised overhead.
Intent clear.
He intended to cut me down in a single strike.
Fine.
Then I would use everything.
One final attack.
One final gamble.
"Dragon Fist: Final Impact."
There was no explosion.
No dramatic roar.
Only the brutal sound of steel meeting flesh.
And bone breaking.
Lucien's sword tore through my defenses.
The blade carved into my body.
At the same time—
my fist connected.
The impact obliterated his sternum.
A hole the size of a soccer ball opened through his chest.
His heart disappeared.
His ribs vanished.
Lungs.
Bone.
Flesh.
Gone.
The entire arena gasped.
My own vision darkened.
The sword had nearly cut me in half.
Warm blood poured from my waist.
The world felt cold.
Distant.
But I refused to die.
Not yet.
"Pyromancer Skill: Hearth of Fire."
Mana erupted within my body.
This was the hidden reason I had chosen Pyromancer.
At Level 1, the skill allowed its user to remain alive using mana alone.
Combined with the absurd mana reserves of a Dragon Knight—
it was invaluable.
I immediately consumed healing potions, activated healing scrolls, and triggered several restoration totems I had prepared beforehand.
The damage stabilized.
For now.
I survived.
Panic spread among the spectators.
Several people believed I had just killed Lucien.
The future heir of House Ashford.
I simply stood there breathing heavily.
Then i spoke.
"That's enough, brother.You're going to make Selene cry."
His chest was still missing.
and he began to laugh.
"Oh, come on."
Lucien planted Glipnir into the ground.
"It's only been six seconds."
He glanced down at the massive hole in his torso.
"Now this is something nasty."
Then it happened.
Dark green and black smoke began pouring from his wounds.
An eerie aura.
Thick.
Viscous.
Unnatural.
The passive ability of his subclass—
Necro Knight.
A combat-focused class infamous for trading survivability for overwhelming offensive power.
Yet its true terror lay elsewhere.
Immortality.
Not ordinary immortality.
Not the kind where destroying the body was enough.
This was worse.
It was as though an invisible priest continuously cast Resurrection without limit.
Its only condition—
the user had to remain in combat.
Which made assassins one of the few natural counters.
The dark aura continued swirling.
Bone reformed.
Organs regenerated.
Flesh reconnected.
Within moments, Lucien stood completely restored.
Not a single injury remained.
He stretched casually.
As though having his heart destroyed was a minor inconvenience.
Then—
he vanished.
Even with my enhanced perception—
I lost him.
Completely.
My instincts screamed.
A violent impact struck the back of my head.
The world spun.
My vision blurred.
Everything became distant.
Dark.
And then—
nothing.