Levi's Perspective:

The air was thick with tension. The crowd roared, their cheers merging into a chaotic chorus of excitement, but I only focused on one thing—winning.

Alina stood across from me, perfectly calm, her stance effortless. Not a bead of sweat. Not a single doubt in her eyes. She wasn’t scared. Good.

I grinned. "Hope you’re ready, Alina. I’d hate for this to end too quickly."

She exhaled smoothly, raising her sword. "You talk too much."

Fine. I’ll let my speed do the talking.

I vanished.

God-Speed ignited in my body, lightning surging through my veins as I propelled forward. The world blurred. One step. Two steps. Three. I was already in her face, sword flashing forward in an instant—

Clang!

A shockwave burst out as our blades collided, the sheer force shaking the arena. The crowd flinched. Some gasped. Others screamed in awe.

Her grip didn’t waver. Her movements? Effortless.

Tch.

I didn’t hesitate. Speed kills. My body became a blur, attacking from every possible angle—left, right, above, behind. No openings. No breaks. I was everywhere.

But she—she just spun.

Water shimmered over her blade, a fluid acceleration buff, her sword sweeping in a flawless 360-degree defense. My attacks met an unbreakable wall of counters, her blade predicting each one like she had seen them happen before I even moved.

I skidded back, landing lightly on my feet. “Hah. Not bad.”

She barely blinked. "Not good enough."

Oh?

I smirked, tightening my grip on my sword. "Guess I should take this more seriously then."

Shadows curled around me. My blade darkened, swallowing the light itself. A void-like mist pulsed from it, signaling the activation of my Shadow Boost.

Alina’s gaze sharpened.

I stepped forward—then I was gone.

For three seconds, I didn’t exist. No sound. No presence. Nothing.

Then—

Slash.

I reappeared behind her, blade slashing down.

Alina twisted, dodging at the last second, but my attack still grazed her side, cutting through her sleeve. A shallow cut bloomed on her arm.

The first hit—mine.

I flipped back, landing with a cocky grin. "Looks like the strongest Sword Saint isn't just self-proclaimed, huh?"

Alina ignored the wound, adjusting her grip on her sword. Instead of looking frustrated, she simply exhaled.

Then, she whispered:

"Heavenly Stance: Flowing Retribution."

Shit.

Water surged.

Her blade blurred, an elemental wave bursting from it as she lunged—faster than before.

I dashed to the side—too late.

Slash!

Cold. My ribs screamed as her sword cut through my coat, a sharp sting following as the water-infused strike dug in before I could fully escape.

I staggered back, blinking.

Then—I laughed.

Blood dripped, but I didn’t care.

"Now that's more like it." I flicked my sword, adrenaline pumping. "You might actually make this fun."

Alina sighed, rolling her shoulder. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"Damn right I am."

This fight? Far from over.

I wiped the blood from my ribs, my grin never fading. My wound? Superficial. My excitement? Unstoppable.

"Not bad," I admitted, twirling my sword between my fingers. "For someone who fights like a cold-blooded killer."

Alina didn’t react. No smug look. No satisfaction. Just cold, unreadable indifference.

"You adapt quickly," she said flatly. "But you’re reckless. You rely on speed to force an outcome. If I remove that advantage, this battle is already over."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Gonna clip my wings?"

"I don’t need to. I’ll dismantle your movements until you can't use them at all."

Tch. Annoying.

She wasn’t bluffing. I could feel it. The way she studied me, how her eyes tracked my footwork—she was building something. A counter. A technique.

I had to disrupt her rhythm.

Fine. Let’s see how well she handles chaos.

I vanished again.

One second.

I reappeared at her left, slashing—she blocked.

Two seconds.

I flickered behind, going low for a sweep—her sword tilted, barely parrying in time.

Three seconds.

I materialized in front, lunging for a feint—she didn’t react.

Wait—

She ignored my attack?!

Instead, her lips barely moved.

"Heavenly Stance: Absolute Cage."

Shit.

Lightning erupted.

My body screamed in pain as a sudden field of crackling electricity paralyzed the space around her. The moment my foot touched the ground, the charge surged through me.

Tch—!

I forced my muscles to move—too slow.

Alina’s sword was already coming down.

Think, Levi.

I wasn’t getting out of this clean. She locked my mobility, turned my own advantage into my biggest weakness. She knew I’d appear in close range—so she set a trap.

Smart.

But—

I’m not out yet.

I let the lightning hit me head-on. Instead of pulling back, I pushed forward. If I was going to get hit anyway, I might as well get closer.

Her sword slashed down—

I twisted. The blade sliced into my shoulder instead of my chest.

And now—I was in range.

My turn.

I slammed my palm against the ground.

"Shadow Veil: Devour."

Darkness exploded outward, swallowing us both into pitch-black nothingness.

The crowd disappeared. The arena was gone. Only the two of us remained inside the void of my creation.

I was everywhere.

Alina’s breath was calm. Even here—completely blind—she wasn’t fazed.

"You think hiding will help you?" she muttered. "Predictable."

"Yeah?" My voice echoed from every direction. "Then tell me where I am."

Silence.

Then—

Her sword moved.

Straight at me.

I barely dodged, flipping away as her blade narrowly cut through my cheek.

How?

She couldn’t see. She couldn’t sense me. So how did she—?

She exhaled again. Slow. Precise. Calculated.

"You leave disturbances in the air," she murmured. "Even at your speed, your movements cause shifts in pressure, subtle displacements of oxygen. You may be invisible, but you’re not intangible."

I gritted my teeth. "You’re actually insane."

"I’m efficient."

Cold. Ruthless. Logical.

I love this fight.

Fine. If she could read the air—I’ll make it unreadable.

I sprinted in every direction, twisting, spinning, darting at unnatural speeds. I deliberately clashed my sword against the void, disrupting the air currents. A storm of movement, absolute disorder.

Now she had no reference point.

Her stance wavered. Her technique—slightly delayed.

That was my opening.

I appeared behind her.

Sword raised.

"Shadow Execution."

My blade descended—

Her foot shifted.

"Heavenly Stance: Falling Lotus."

Water surged beneath us.

A sudden whirlpool exploded, twisting the entire battlefield, forcing me to lose balance as the floor became a liquid vortex.

I slashed—missed.

She pivoted.

Her sword shot forward.

I barely had time to block before her water-infused strike slammed into my ribs.

I flew.

I skidded back, coughing, pain burning through my side.

The darkness faded. The arena returned.

The crowd? Losing their minds.

I exhaled, shaking out my arms, ignoring the sharp ache in my body.

Alina lowered her blade, unfazed, eyes blank. Unshaken.

"Still alive?" she asked.

I grinned, wiping the blood from my lips. "You wish."

And then—the crowd exploded.

"LEVI, YOU MONSTER! HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?!"

"ALINA’S TECHNIQUE IS UNSTOPPABLE! SHE’S READING HIM LIKE A BOOK!"

"FASTEST SWORD SAINT VERSUS THE UNBREAKABLE TECHNIQUE—WHO’S GONNA FALL FIRST?!"

From the noble stands, finely-dressed spectators whispered in awe. “This level of combat… It’s beyond anything we’ve seen in years.”

"That’s the Sword Saint of Technique?" a younger noblewoman gasped. "She barely moves, yet every strike is perfect!"

"Levi’s God-Speed is terrifying! No human should be able to move like that!"

In the lower stands, adventurers and mercenaries gripped the railings, eyes wide.

"If that was me in there, I’d be dead already."

"Levi’s style is crazy—he doesn’t think, he just acts!"

"No, you idiot! He thinks too fast for normal people to understand! He’s adapting in real-time!"

And from the back rows—where the rowdiest, most feral spectators gathered—came the chants.

"LE-VI! LE-VI! LE-VI!"

"A-LI-NA! A-LI-NA! A-LI-NA!"

The entire arena shook with their roars, a storm of voices clashing just like our blades. The energy was chaotic, electric, feverish.

I took a slow step forward, my blade resting casually on my shoulder. A grin tugged at the corner of my lips. My body ached from her last strike, but damn—this was fun.

Alina, ever the cold statue, mirrored my approach. Her blade was steady, unwavering, her eyes locked onto me with that same emotionless stare, like I was just another equation to be solved.

I rolled my shoulders, cracking my neck. “You know, most people would be gasping for air after keeping up with me this long. But you? You’re still ice-cold. Kinda makes me wonder if you’re even human.”

She didn’t blink. “I haven't even sweated yet, you're far inferior against me.”

I smirked. “You say that, but I can feel it, Alina. That slight shift in your stance, the way your grip tightened just now. You’re getting serious.” I let my sword drop to my side, my other hand slipping into my pocket. “And that? That tells me I’ve got you right where I want you.”

Alina kept walking, each step calculated, measured. “Your arrogance blinds you. You assume you hold the advantage simply because you are fast. Speed is meaningless when it follows no path.”

I chuckled, wiping a small trickle of blood from my lip. “Speed is everything, sweetheart. It’s the difference between dodging death and eating dirt.”

She finally stopped, tilting her head slightly. “Then why did I hit you?”

Damn. That was a good one.

I exhaled, my grin widening. “Fair point. Guess I’ll just have to hit you harder.”

Alina lifted her blade slightly, her tone as cold as ever. “You will try. And you will fail.”

The crowd’s chants grew louder.

We stood there, just a few steps apart, the tension like a drawn bowstring.

Then, in a blink—

We moved.

The second we moved, the world shattered into motion.

I threw everything into my God-Speed. No half-measures. No holding back. Pure, raw acceleration.

"Shadow Veil." My voice barely left my lips before I vanished. The arena blurred into streaks of color. The roar of the crowd stretched into a warped hum, reality itself bending around me as I pushed my body beyond its limits.

One strike per heartbeat? Not enough.

Thirty-two per second? That’s more like it.

I surged forward, my blade a streak of black light as I launched the first strike—

But Alina didn’t move.

She stood still.

Calm. Unshaken. Her grip on the hilt steady.

Then, her lips parted—

"Titanium Bark. Lightning Flow. Ocean’s Embrace. Earthen Core. Tempest Edge."

BOOM.

Power flooded into her blade like a roaring tempest. Wind screamed. Lightning snapped. Water surged. A dozen elements wrapped around her, forming an impenetrable wall of reinforced technique.

And then—she moved.

The instant my sword neared her flesh, her blade snapped into motion.

CLANG!

Blocked.

I shifted—attacking from the left.

CLANG!

Blocked.

I blurred behind her. From above. From below. From every possible angle.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

She blocked them all. Effortlessly.

I gritted my teeth. Faster.

My form flickered like a shadow, my blade raining down in a storm of steel. Cuts that could dice through stone. Slashes that should’ve ended her by now.

CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.

She deflected all of them.

A fraction of a second passed.

I’d already struck 124 times.

Then 496.

Then 1,000.

Still no hits.

I snarled, pushing faster. My body screamed under the pressure, my muscles burning like fire. But Alina—

Alina was like an impenetrable fortress.

Her eyes never wavered.

Her blade never faltered.

She wasn’t just blocking—she was reading me in real time.

Strike. Counter. Strike. Counter. Strike. Counter.

The crowd? Silent.

No cheers. No screams.

Just pure awe.

I could feel it—the weight of her talent, the way she calculated everything to perfection. I was breaking the sound barrier, and she was blocking me like she had all the time in the world.

I refused to slow down.

I refused to be outplayed.

1,248 strikes later—

I skidded backward, panting.

Alina hadn’t moved an inch.

Her sword was still raised, smoke rising from its edge, her body completely untouched.

I stared at her, then wiped sweat from my brow, laughing breathlessly.

“That... was insane.”

She lowered her sword just slightly, her tone as lifeless as ever.

"You are reckless. But predictable."

I grinned. “Then I’ll just have to be more unpredictable.”

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my sweat-drenched hair as I slowly walked toward her. My body was still buzzing from the insane speed I’d just pulled off, but my mind? My mind was sharper than ever.

Alina wasn’t just fast. She wasn’t just strong.

She was creating counter-techniques in real-time.

That wasn’t just raw talent—that was something far more terrifying.

Most fighters train their whole lives to master one style, maybe two if they’re lucky. But Alina? She wasn’t confined to a single set of techniques. She didn’t just have a style—she built them on the spot.

Her gift—Technique.

My eyes flickered to the lingering traces of elemental energy surrounding her.

Lightning, wind, water, earth. All of it was wrapped around her like a perfectly woven web of destruction.

It was unnatural. Impossible.

No mage could use multiple elements at the same time like that. Sure, people could learn multiple elements, but casting more than one at once? That was a whole other level.

Yet she did it effortlessly.

Like it was just breathing to her.

A normal fighter used one power at a time.

She used five.

I grinned.

What an absolute monster.

My feet carried me forward, slow, deliberate.

I could already hear it. That nagging little voice in the back of my head that loved to scream when things got tough.

You can’t win this. She’s too perfect. She’s too strong.

I ignored it. That voice has always been wrong.

Because I always win.

No matter how crazy the fight gets.

No matter how powerful my opponent is.

No matter what.

I win.

It’s not arrogance. It’s just reality.

I don’t lose.

And Alina? She won’t be the first.

I smirked, tilting my head as I finally closed the distance between us.

She was standing there like a statue, not even the slightest emotion on her face. No excitement, no frustration, not even satisfaction from blocking every one of my attacks.

Just that empty, blank stare.

Cold. Unfeeling.

I chuckled. “You know, most people would be a little hyped after pulling off something like that.” I motioned lazily toward her sword. “One-thousand-two-hundred-forty-eight blocks? That’s gotta be a new record.”

She didn’t respond.

Of course she didn’t.

Alina wasn’t fighting for thrill. She wasn’t fighting for pride. She was fighting for results.

It didn’t matter to her if the fight was flashy, if the crowd loved it, if her opponent was worthy.

She was just here to win.

I clicked my tongue. Boring.

My gaze flickered past her for a moment—toward the massive crowd watching from the stands.

And man, were they losing their minds.

"LEVI! ALINA! LEVI! ALINA!"

The entire arena was shaking from the sheer volume of their voices. People were screaming our names, throwing their hands in the air, waving banners and flags with the insignias of their favored Sword Saint.

Some called for me to blitz her. Others yelled for Alina to break me apart.

And some? Some were just shouting in pure exhilaration.

Because no one had ever seen a fight like this before.

The strongest speed demon vs. the most perfect technique.

A battle between two fighters who were built to dismantle each other.

I took a deep breath, letting the energy of the arena sink into my bones.

Yeah.

This is where I belong.

I exhaled. My fingers twitched around my sword hilt, veins pulsing with the raw electricity of anticipation. Faster. I need to be faster.

Alina stood still, her blade resting effortlessly at her side. No wasted movements. No anticipation.

Because she knew.

She knew I was coming.

But it didn’t matter.

Because she couldn't stop me.

I bent my knees slightly, shifting my weight forward, my heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of the roaring crowd.

I shot forward— vanishing.

The air cracked like a whip as I entered God-Speed.

Left.

Right.

Above.

Below.

I was everywhere.

32 strikes per second.

And Alina?

She blocked. Every. Single. One.

Her blade moved like it was forged for this exact moment, bending and twisting, intercepting each of my blows before they could connect.

Every impact sent out shockwaves, rattling the bones of the spectators closest to the fight. The very arena trembled under the sheer intensity of our clash.

64 strikes.

128.

256.

And she was still standing.

My attacks came from impossible angles, moving too fast for the human eye to process—yet her sword was already there before my strikes even fully formed.

I could feel it.

Her adaptability.

She wasn’t just reacting. She was anticipating.

This wasn’t a battle of speed.

This was a battle of perfection.

512 strikes.

1,024.

2,000.

Sweat dripped down my forehead. My arms burned, my muscles screaming in protest as I pushed past my limits. I needed to land a hit.

But she—

She was untouchable.

The 2934th strike came down—

And for the first time in the entire fight, Alina's stance shifted.

A flicker. A breath. A moment.

Her blade, now glowing with an unnatural blue aura, moved in a fluid motion, her stance no longer defensive.

"Hydra’s Execution."

I saw it.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

But it was too late.

A massive wave of water erupted from her sword, swirling around her in a perfect spiral before collapsing forward in a single, devastating slash.

I barely had time to cross my blade in front of me—

SHHHHRRRKK—

A searing pain exploded across my side as the water-infused strike broke past my guard, slicing through my armor like it was nothing.

The impact sent me skidding backward, my boots tearing into the stone floor. Blood dripped from the fresh wound on my ribs, a thin but deep gash left in Alina’s wake.

For the first time in a long time…

I had been hit.

The crowd lost their minds.

"ALINA! ALINA! ALINA!"

Her name shook the entire arena, overpowering every other voice, every other sound.

I gritted my teeth, wiping the blood from my lips with the back of my hand.

And then—

I laughed.

“Damn.” My voice was hoarse, but my grin never wavered. "That actually hurt."

Alina took a single step forward, her emotionless gaze piercing through me like I was already irrelevant.

"Your fantasies will soon end, Levi."

Her tone was cold. Absolute.

Like she had already decided my fate.

The crowd erupted again, screaming her name like she was already the victor.

But me?

I just smirked, rolling my shoulders.

Because this fight wasn’t over.

I wiped the blood from my lip, the familiar metallic taste only making me grin wider. My body throbbed, but it wasn’t enough to dull the excitement.

My adrenaline was climbing, pulling me into that state—the one where focus sharpens and the world blurs, a state of complete flow. The crowd’s cheers faded as my senses honed in, ready to rise above the next challenge.

I blinked, and suddenly, she wasn’t in front of me anymore. The image before me twisted, and for a split second, the crowd, the arena, and even Alina disappeared into a dark silhouette.

he shape stood tall, commanding—Kaiser.

My throat went dry for a moment, and I paused. The chill running down my spine wasn’t from the pain, but from the thought of him. The memory hit me like a freight train, a cold reminder of the only person who had ever made me question my own limits.

I shook it off. Not now.

I glanced at Alina, who was standing across from me, her face as cold and calculating as ever. “Are you there?”

Her gaze didn’t change. Her expression didn’t shift an inch, but I could see the shift in her stance. She was preparing for something. But before she could respond, I couldn’t help myself.

“How did you—?” I let the question linger, but her silence only drew out more curiosity. It was hard to ignore the way she was holding herself now, like she wasn’t even trying. There was no rush in her movements—just a calm that contrasted my growing urgency.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” I teased, trying to poke at the cracks in her facade.

She remained unmoved, her eyes unwavering.

I stepped forward, my voice dropping slightly. “Come on, I need to know. How did you block my attack?” I raised an eyebrow, adding just a hint of sarcasm. “I thought you were just some cold-hearted strategist, not a monster.”

Alina’s eyes narrowed—no emotion in them, just cold precision. “Do you always ask questions when you already know the answers, Levi?”

I scoffed, shaking my head, “Hey, I can only imagine what tricks you pulled out of your sleeve. But I’m really curious now. You’ve caught my attention.”

Alina’s lips barely moved, her voice as cold and calculated as ever, “I amplified my sword’s defense and enhanced my physical capabilities using elemental magic. Water, wind, earth, and nature-based elements.The combination was able to block your strike, and with my counter-technique, I took the advantage.”

I leaned back slightly, my smirk still in place, but my mind was racing. “Impossible,” I muttered under my breath, but loud enough for her to hear.

Her eyes didn’t even flicker. “It’s all decisive action.”

Her tone was flat, emotionless, but I could feel the weight of her words. She wasn’t bragging. She wasn’t trying to impress me. She was stating facts—and that, more than anything, sent a shiver through me.

I took a step forward, my feet heavy on the ground, but my mind was far from here. The crowd was still chanting, the energy building for a round two. But I wasn’t listening to them anymore. My focus was on Alina.

I tilted my head, sizing her up as I asked the question that had been gnawing at me. “Could you have blocked it... without the magic?”

She blinked. That got her. For just a moment, I saw her composed expression falter—a small shift that let me know I’d touched a nerve. She closed the distance between us, still keeping a careful distance but moving just enough that I could feel her presence growing.

Her voice, when she spoke, was steady but with an edge of hesitation, as if she wasn’t quite sure how to answer my question. “No,” she said bluntly. “It’s practically impossible for anyone to block that many attacks without magical amplification. Not even I could do it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Not even you?”

She nodded, stepping closer still, her eyes locking onto mine. “You’re fast, Levi. Faster than anyone else. The only way to keep up is through the elements, applying water for flow, wind for speed, earth for stamina, and nature for reflexes. Without them... no normal human could keep up. Not even A-ranked monsters would survive your combo.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but there was something else there too—a hint of respect, a begrudging acknowledgment that I had pushed her to her limits. She hadn’t given me the satisfaction of showing it, but I could see it in the way she carried herself.

I chuckled darkly, the sound echoing in the arena. “So, you think I’m a monster then?”

Alina’s eyes softened for a split second—if you could even call it softening. “Your power is your title, Levi.”

“Hmm.” I scratched my chin, more amused than anything. “What would you call me then, Alina?”

Her voice was as emotionless as ever. “A Freak of Nature.”

I laughed, loud and unrestrained, my voice booming across the arena. I wasn’t laughing because I thought I was some unbeatable force.

No, I was laughing because I had to admit—she was right. Her words made sense, and the comparison to Kaiser... it was so close, it was almost painful.

Kaiser—that damn guy—had blocked me once. He had done the impossible.

The sounds of the arena faded into a dull hum as my mind wandered. The crowd, the fight—it all seemed so distant now. My body still ached from the battle with Alina, but it was nothing compared to the kind of fight I had in mind. No, my thoughts were pulled back to a few weeks ago, a time that still lingered in the back of my mind, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

The Silent Executioner. The bastard who had controlled my body.

I remember it so clearly—the feeling of being trapped in my own skin, watching as my hands moved against my will. My body was his to command, and my mind was a mere observer. It was one of the most unsettling experiences I’d ever had. I could see, hear, and feel everything that was happening around me, but I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.

The worst part of it all—no, the most painful part—was when I was forced to strike Celia. I could see her standing there, her face confused and pleading, but I couldn’t control the blade that moved toward her. Every inch of my being screamed to stop, but I was powerless, locked in my own mind.

And then, as I was about to deliver the final blow...

Out of nowhere, the familiar figure appeared. He was there in an instant, moving like a blur. The sheer speed of him—it was impossible to track. He didn’t hesitate. He just... blocked it.

Kaiser.

I wasn’t surprised by the skill, but by the ease with which he did it. My strikes were fast—hell, inhumanly fast in many ways—but Kaiser? Kaiser didn’t just block them. He understood them. He moved with a calm precision that completely threw me off. His movements were smooth, effortless, like he was reading me, anticipating my every move.

I’ve fought a lot of people in my life. But Kaiser—that guy, he was something else.

I remember how the Silent Executioner, for the first time, showed a crack in his confidence. He felt threatened. I could feel the shift. The pressure built, and I knew the Executioner was desperate. He was pushing my body to its limits, trying to force me to fight at a level I wasn’t sure was possible. But it was like fighting in a dream—a nightmare, really. I was a spectator in my own body, a mere passenger in the chaos.

And then, it got even more insane.

Kaiser didn’t just block me. He didn’t just stand there and take it like some kind of wall. No—he fought back. The next thing I knew, we were going at it—clashing—and my mind couldn’t even keep up with the speed of it all.

The most insane part? The guy was using a half-broken sword—and a gauntlet that was cobbled together from who knows what. I’m pretty sure he made it from burning those chains Celia had—like, what the hell? And yet, he was moving faster than anyone else I’ve seen, adapting to my strikes, creating weapons in the middle of battle, abusing Ronan’s Wall of Fire like it was nothing.

The guy was an improviser, and the way he adapted? It was like he wasn’t even trying.

But here’s the real kicker, the thing that still has me reeling...

I did the same thing I did against Alina—the same God-Speed Shadow boosted attacks, the same relentless circling barrage. But Kaiser... Kaiser blocked every single one. Not just from the front. Not just from the back.

He blocked them from every damn angle—left, right, front, back, and even from above.

It was impossible.

He didn’t just block one or two strikes. No, he blocked and exchanged 4000 of them with me. 4000. And the whole time, he was using that broken sword and a makeshift gauntlet like he was playing a game.

It wasn’t just skill—it calculated and anticipated.

I’ve never seen anything like it.

And you know what? I was pissed. I wasn’t angry because I couldn’t land a hit on him—I was angry because, for the first time in my life, I felt like I couldn’t read him. I couldn’t predict him. He was so far ahead, so... impossible, that it was like he was fighting a completely different battle.

It was almost like fighting a god. No, scratch that—it was like fighting someone who had already seen every possible outcome, and just decided to mess with me for fun.

That guy was dangerous—and I don't mean in the "wow, this guy’s strong" way. I mean, he’s the kind of dangerous that makes you think twice about ever going up against him again.

How the hell did he do that?

Kaiser was just an E-rank. E-rank. Yet, in that fight, his battle IQ and his skills far surpassed even the best of the Sword Saints. His movements weren’t just fast—they were calculated. Every strike, every block, seemed to be a step ahead of everything I could throw at him. It was like he was playing 5D chess while I was still stuck trying to figure out checkers.

And if what Alina said was true, then blocking my attacks without amplification—without magic—was impossible. So how the hell did Kaiser do it?

The fight flashes through my mind again. I remember it like it was yesterday. Kaiser stood there, completely still, blocking every single one of my strikes. And now, Alina, she’s doing the same thing. Standing still, unmoving, blocking me without so much as flinching.

The technique... it was identical.

I blink, my mind struggling to process. No way. This... this can’t be right.

The style Alina uses—the Heavenly Style. It’s a stance that’s built on the foundation of elemental magic. It requires you to use multiple elemental magics at once—something only Alina herself could do—and combine that with a sword stance that depends on improvising and creating techniques on the fly for counter-attacks. It's a style that’s hers alone. The sheer complexity of it makes it so that nobody else could ever replicate it.

But Kaiser... he did. He used it.

No. I can’t be right.

Kaiser can’t possibly... No, not like this.

And yet, what I saw—it was undeniable.

That E-rank, that damn E-rank—he used the Heavenly Stance. Without magic. Without amplification. Just off sheer anticipation. The thought is enough to make my blood boil.

How? How the hell did he use it? How could he replicate the Heavenly Style without the very thing that makes it work? Without the magic. Without the elements. Without any of it. How?

The frustration of it hits me like a tidal wave, and my mind spirals, reeling with questions I can't answer. What the hell did I just witness?

And then, just as I start to feel my thoughts escape my control, I hear her voice. Cold. Calculating. Alina’s voice cuts through my mental chaos like a blade.

"Are you done wondering?" she asks, her tone devoid of any emotion, almost... bored.

I blink, breaking out of my trance, and the sounds of the crowd come rushing back into focus. The cheers, the roars—it all floods my senses, dragging me back to the present.

"Don't think too hard, Levi," she continues, her words as detached as ever. "It won’t get you anywhere."

I shake my head, trying to clear the haze of confusion. She’s right. Overthinking it won’t help. But damn it, I can’t let it go.

If what I’ve seen is true, if Kaiser really has the skills to block my attacks like that—then the chances of him dying to a grotesque should be near zero. It’s not just that he's strong. No. It’s more than that. His skills are God-level. I’ve never seen anyone move like that, think like that, fight like that. The guy knew my every move, anticipating it before I even made it.

I can’t even imagine him losing to a grotesque—impossible.

Maybe… maybe he’s actually alive, hiding himself? The thought gnaws at me, clawing its way into my mind. I never did see him fall. I didn’t see the body. Just the aftermath. Could it be?

Could he really be out there somewhere, waiting for the right moment to show himself?

My focus snaps back into place as the crowd roars, their cheers vibrating through the arena like a thousand waves crashing. My name is shouted over and over again—Levi! Levi! Levi!

The noise is deafening, urging me to keep going, to fight with everything I have. But as I glance over at Alina, I see her cold, bored expression, her hand wrapped tightly around her legendary sword. She's unfazed. Completely indifferent to everything around her.

She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand how important this fight is. She doesn’t know what’s at stake.

I can’t let myself get distracted again.

Focus, Levi. I remind myself. This battle—this fight—dictates the future of Levinton. If I lose here, if I fail... it’s not just me who suffers. The entire town will pay for it. There’s too much riding on this. Too many lives at stake.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself, forcing my thoughts to calm.

I look up, meeting Alina’s eyes. She doesn't flinch. Her expression still as cold and emotionless as ever. But I know—I know she’s calculating her next move. And I have to be ready. I can’t let her have the advantage.

It’s time for round two.

And this time, I’m not holding back.

As the fight was growing hotter, an unknown presence had entered Sylvaris and it was not someone well-known by its people. Fate was going to change again, as he was here to decide the future.

Unknown Perspective:

Oh, so this is Sylvaris? How unique of a town design, far more superior in structures and development than most of the other places I've seen. It's almost like they tried too hard to be "modern," but ended up creating something more… pretentious.

It’s the kind of place where everyone is busy looking up at their shiny stone buildings and forgetting that life happens at eye level. Honestly, it's charming in its own way—if you can ignore the self-important vibe.

I pass by the stalls, each one more over-the-top than the last, like these merchants are competing to show off how much useless junk they can sell. The wood carvings here? Absolutely laughable. Too clean, too polished. Do they think people are fooled by that? And the fabrics! Oh, the fabrics—each one so finely stitched, it looks like they were made to hang from some noble's wardrobe, never to touch the dust of reality.

I give them credit for trying, though. The architecture is impressive. Their buildings stand tall, stretching into the sky like they’re trying to force their way into greatness, but there’s a certain… lack of character to them. It feels like they forgot to make it personal.

As I continued to walk through the merchant's areas, the stalls lined up on either side, each one selling something slightly more useless than the last. I passed a few offering gear—shiny swords, polished shields, and armor that probably couldn't withstand a light breeze, let alone a real fight.

Some merchants were pushing adventuring packs, their backpacks overstuffed with more supplies than any sane person could carry. And then there were the quest maps—dungeon runs, monster hunting, treasure hunts—oh, how quaint.

Every single one of them promising riches and glory to those brave enough to take the plunge. I could practically hear the desperate voices of adventurers, all too eager to spend their coin on promises they could never keep.

But then, nearing the end of the area, I spotted something that caught my eye—a potion stall. Now that was something worth paying attention to.

Finally something useful. I've been running low on mana recently. Wouldn’t hurt to replenish before I go off and get myself into more trouble.

As I approach the stall, I hear some kids laughing nearby, their voices loud enough to carry over the usual hum of the town. They're having one of those ridiculously serious debates only children can have.

"I bet I can make a potion that makes you invisible!" one of the kids says, full of childish confidence.

Another one laughs, hands on hips. "No way! Potions don’t work like that!"

"But I can make it work, you'll see!" the first one insists.

I chuckle to myself. Kids have no idea how the world works. Everything's about "magic" to them, but they’ll never know the kind of manipulation it really takes to bend reality to your will. The things people will believe without question… It’s almost too easy.

By now, I’ve made it to the stall. The merchant notices me, his eyes narrowing as he sizes me up. I can see his brain ticking, no doubt wondering whether I'm worth his time. "May I help you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, clearly cautious.

I can practically smell his wariness. It’s so thick in the air, you’d think it was an added ingredient in his potions. I flash him a smile, but not the friendly kind—the one that makes people feel like they’re under a microscope. "Ah, I’d like to buy some potions, my good man."

He still looks unsure, clearly taken aback by my appearance. I mean, it’s not like I’m a picture of health. I’m fully wrapped in bandages, even around my eyes. Only my right eye is visible, and it’s probably not a pretty sight for someone like him. His gaze lingers there for just a moment too long, probably wondering if I’m hiding something or just… bizarre.

“Ah, I see,” he says, his tone still cautious. "But, um, your... outfit? It’s a bit unusual. I mean, the bandages, the one eye…" He gestures to me awkwardly, trying to stay polite but failing at hiding his discomfort.

I laugh lightly, like he's just told me a joke, and lean in closer. “You’ve got a sharp eye, don’t you? Nothing to worry about, I’m just a bit accident-prone." I pause and give him an exaggerated wink. "Say, you wouldn’t be from the far coasts of Celestine, would you? I’m from around there myself."

He looks surprised for a second, but then his eyes flicker with recognition. “Celestine? Yeah, I’m from there! Port Valesh, actually.”

I nod, feigning familiarity. "Ah, Port Valesh. Small world. You know, I used to frequent the markets there. Been a while since I’ve been back. Name’s… Aldric. And you?"

He smiles, clearly relieved that I’m not some threat, and gives me his name—Rael. Good, now I’ve got him right where I want him. Not that I need his name, of course. It’s just to make him feel comfortable enough to sell me what I want without any further hesitation.

Of course, that’s all a lie. I’m not from Celestine. Not even close. And my name? Not Aldric. But it’s amazing what a little bit of trust can do. I’ve already got him to drop his guard just enough.

"Well, Rael," I say, putting extra weight into his name as though we’re long-lost friends. "I’d like to purchase two bottles of Elemental Mana potions and one small bottle of Heavenly Energy for Celestial Magic."

He raises an eyebrow. "With just those, I’m not sure you’ll be able to cast any decent spells. You know, those aren’t the strongest potions."

I laugh, shaking my head as though he’s missed the point entirely. "Oh, don't worry about that. I already have a few others stocked up. These are just for topping off, you see."

He nods, but I can see the skepticism still lingering behind his eyes. Nevertheless, he hands me the three potions, mumbling something about the price being 20 gold.

I pull out the gold, counting it slowly in front of him. He seems more at ease now that the transaction is going smoothly. Handing it over, I give him a warm wave, a gesture that’s more comforting than it should be. "Take care of these potions, Rael. I'll know where to find you if I need more."

He smiles back, clearly grateful for the business. "Of course, Aldric. Don’t hesitate to return if you need anything else."

I stretch a bit, pulling my hood up further to hide the bandages. Can’t be too careful. My outfit’s simple—just dark, well-worn traveling clothes. The kind that screams "I’ve been everywhere" without looking too flashy. The bandages, though, they hide the parts of me I prefer to keep out of sight.

Looking ahead, I spot a beautiful fountain in the distance, water shimmering under the sunlight. Just past that, the Sylvaris Requiem Guild Building stands tall.

Ah, how fitting. It's time to meet again.

Sylvia.

Levi's Perspective:

The crowd's deafening roar fades into the background as my mind sharpens, and my senses come alive. The arena—the very air around me—feels thick, charged with electricity. I can practically taste the anticipation. But there’s no time for distractions.

I focus. Alina’s hand tightens around her legendary sword, her stance unyielding, poised for whatever comes next. I can almost feel her calculating, her mind working like a machine, picking apart every little movement I make. She’s the type of fighter who isn’t just reactive; she anticipates. And that’s something I’ll have to outsmart.

I summon my magic. Time to turn the tide.

"Ice Manipulation: Frosted Spears!"

With a sharp exhale, I send a flurry of jagged ice projectiles shooting at her from every angle. The cold winds follow in their wake, biting at the air. Alina’s eyes flicker, and she moves with fluid grace, deflecting them effortlessly. Her technique is like a flawless dance, always just one step ahead.

But I’m not done yet. I narrow my eyes as I read her movements, analyzing.

"Water Manipulation: Tidal Surge!"

The ground beneath my feet shifts. A wave of water bursts forth, rising to surround me. The moisture fills the air, giving me an advantage. As I surge forward, I keep the tide flowing, using it to slip through her range of vision, making my approach unpredictable. The wave is just enough to throw off her calculations.

But she’s already moving to counter. I’ve seen it in her eyes—the anticipation. She’s thinking two steps ahead. She’s already aiming for the gaps she expects me to leave, calculating the exact places I’ll move to next.

She’s not just defending. She’s planning her attacks like a master, aiming to box me in, to corner me.

"Clever," I mutter, watching her work. "She’s aiming for the spots I’m most likely to go. Limiting my movement options. Impressive."

I can feel my pulse quicken, but I don’t let it show. I need to be calm, calculated. There’s no room for emotion here—just pure strategy.

Her blade hums as it slices through the air, and I feel a ripple of energy spread through the ground. She’s using her Blessing of Technique again. That damned amplified sword technique of hers, unleashing a rippling wave surge toward me. It’s fast. Powerful. A direct shot.

I push forward with God-Speed, my body moving like lightning. The wave rushes past me, grazing my side as I dodge, just barely feeling the sting of it on my skin.

That’s when it hits me—I need to control the space.

My mind races through possibilities as I dodge and weave through her assault. It’s not just about avoiding the attacks anymore. It’s about turning her precision against her.

I conjure shadows beneath my feet. The moment the darkness spills out, I twist it into a nearly invisible cloak. She won’t be able to track me as easily now. Not when I’ve got the shadows at my disposal.

"Shadow Manipulation: Void Step."

I disappear into the blackness, my form vanishing into the shifting shadows. For a brief moment, I hear her blade slice through the air, searching for me. But it’s already too late. I’m already circling around her, using the element of surprise to my advantage.

I can sense her growing awareness, her attention split. Alina’s good, but even she can’t predict what she can’t see. She’s already looking in the wrong direction.

The plan’s taking shape now. I’ve cornered her.

I slip out from behind her, timing it perfectly. I surge forward with all my speed, calling upon the ice again.

"Ice Manipulation: Glacier Crush!"

In a single, fluid motion, I slam a massive chunk of ice straight into her path. Her reflexes are sharp, but she’s not expecting the sudden change in the flow of the fight. I’ve limited her options with the ice, forcing her to either block or dodge—and she has no time to think about both.

And that’s when it hits me again.

"Here it comes," I think with a grin, watching as she tries to maneuver. "She’ll block. She has to. But it won’t be enough."

I use the shadows to keep her off balance, pushing her to act faster than she can think. Then, I make my final move.

"Water Manipulation: Torrential Lockdown."

I conjure a wall of water beneath her feet, lifting her up in the air. As she struggles to gain control, I reach the final part of my strategy. The water traps her movement just long enough for me to close in.

She’s left with no choice but to strike.

I hold my breath.

Her sword swings down in an attempt to break free. She’s aiming for the exact spot she expects me to be, the same way she anticipated every move so far.

But this time... she’s wrong.

I twist my body in the final move, sending my shadow in front of her blade. The darkness moves like a second weapon, blocking her attack just inches from my face. The sheer force of her sword strikes against the shadowy barrier, sending a shockwave through the air. But she’s left wide open.

This is it. The opening I’ve been waiting for.

"God-Speed: Final Form!"

My hand comes down, moving faster than anything she’s ever seen. The force behind it is monstrous. It slams into her sword with enough power to shatter stone.

And for the first time in this fight, I see a flicker in Alina's cold eyes—a brief moment of surprise.

"Checkmate," I whisper under my breath.

This battle’s over.

The ground beneath my feet trembles as I land, my breath shallow but steady. Alina crashes beside me, her expression unreadable as she pushes herself up. But it’s too late now. I’m already there. I’m already in flow state. No more thinking. No more hesitation. This is it.

"It's over, Alina," I mutter to myself, but my voice is filled with a strange calmness. A quiet certainty.

I feel it. The change. I’ve transcended.

The world blurs as my senses expand. The air around me crackles. God-Speed moves faster than time itself. Faster than the Silent Executioner forced me to move against Kaiser. This time, there’s no pressure, no limit. It’s just me. Alone. Unstoppable.

I can feel it. The speed. The power.

"7000 strikes per minute."

I don’t need to think. I don’t even need to breathe. My body moves before my mind can catch up. I feel my muscles, my instincts taking control. It’s effortless now. I’m in the flow. Everything around me fades. All I can see is Alina—her every move, her every shift in balance.

I don’t hesitate.

I’m not just attacking now. I’m overwhelming her.

I’m all around her. From every angle. Left. Right. Front. Back. Top.

Slice.

My blade cuts through the air and her defenses like a razor, slicing her arms, her shoulders, her body. Every strike lands. Her movements are too slow. She’s trying to block, but my speed is beyond comprehension. Every second I vanish and reappear, weaving through the battlefield like a shadow, taking her from angles she can’t even perceive.

She’s falling behind.

The crowd roars in unison, but their voices are drowned out by the sound of my strikes. It’s deafening. Every slash, every hit, it’s louder than the arena. Louder than their cheers. My strikes are the storm, and Alina is the helpless prey in its path.

I can feel the heat building in my chest. The thrill of battle surging through me. The rush of my blood, the thrum of my heartbeat in sync with my strikes.

"I WILL WIN!" I scream, my voice cracking like thunder through the air.

Alina stumbles back, but it’s too late. I push harder. Faster. My strikes are at 8000 per minute now. No more hesitation. No more mercy. She’s not even blocking anymore. Her defenses are crumbling. I can see it in the way her body jerks with each hit. The slices across her arms. Her bruised shoulders. Her pain.

Her once-immaculate form is breaking apart, her body drowning in the relentless tide of my attacks. I can feel her starting to falter. Each slash, each cut, sends a jolt through her. She’s not fast enough to keep up. Not strong enough to endure this.

I feel the rush, the euphoria of victory. This is my moment. The moment I prove it. I am the strongest. No one can stand in my way. Not her. Not anyone.

I’m the Sword Saint of God-Speed. Speed is power. Speed is everything.

But... is it?

"Is it really?"

The question hits me like a bolt. It’s a fleeting thought, but it’s there. A small nagging doubt.

But I don't stop. I won’t stop. Not now.

I’m already transcending my limits. My strikes don’t stop. They can’t stop.

But in the back of my mind, a single thought lingers, hanging like a shadow in the recesses of my mind:

What if speed isn’t enough?

I shake the thought off, pushing it away. I have no time for doubts. Not now. Not when I’m so close to victory. Not when it’s already over.

"Speed is everything."

And so, I keep attacking. Keep pushing. Until Alina has nothing left to give. Until the world, the crowd, the arena—everything—is swallowed up by my speed.

It was over...

Alina's Perspective:

The pain hits me like an unstoppable wave, crashing relentlessly against every inch of my body. Slices. Wounds. My hands grip my sword, but my fingers feel numb, as if they’re no longer mine.

I don’t know if I’m still alive or if I’ve already died. The pain radiates through me, tearing at every thought, every piece of logic that I hold onto so tightly. I should be dead, shouldn’t I? But I’m still standing. Still breathing. Still feeling.

And then, there’s him. Levi. A complete freak. His God-Speed, it’s just… too much. How can I possibly deal with something like that? Maybe he’s faster than light itself, moving in a way that seems to defy everything I’ve ever known. No technique. No magic. Just speed. Just speed. How can I possibly counter that? How does someone with my gift, my skills, even hope to keep up?

My sword feels heavy. Each strike of his cuts deeper. How can something like this be real? How can someone move that fast without destroying themselves? There’s no logic to it. There’s no reason for it. And yet, here he is, his sword flashing from every angle, every side.

And I… I’m failing to keep up.

The crowd. Their cheers are deafening. At first, they cheered for me, the mighty Alina, the wielder of the Heavenly Style, the one who would win. But now? Now, I hear them chanting Levi’s name. Their cheers are no longer for me.

They’re for him.

I can feel it in my bones. My heart sinks. It’s like a sinking ship that I can’t escape. How did it come to this? I’ve always been the one to strike first, to plan, to outthink my opponents. But this—this monster—he’s rewriting all the rules. How can I defeat something like him?

I… I can’t. I can’t keep up. My body is failing me. My sword, my gift, my technique—it’s all useless against him. No matter how hard I try to block, no matter how many times I adapt, he’s still faster. And I, the one who prided herself on being perfect, on mastering everything, am losing to something I can't even comprehend.

I’m weak. No. Not weak—inferior. Levi is superior. I should have been able to see this coming. But now, here I am, barely staying on my feet, feeling my own blood coat my skin like a cruel reminder of my failure. Every slice that lands on me is like an accusation.

You aren’t enough. You never will be.

And then… God. How cruel. He gave me the Heavenly Style, the technique that is supposed to be the pinnacle of swordsmanship. The power to outthink, to counter, to predict. But all of that means nothing against a gift like God-Speed. How can technique win when speed is everything?

You gave me a gift that requires thought, calculation, patience. But you gave him speed—a gift that erases thought, that doesn’t need patience, that doesn't wait. It's unfair. Why? Why give someone like him such a gift when all I have is my technique? It doesn’t seem right. You gave him that, and all I have is this.

God... you're is cruel...

This is it. This is my limit. The one thing I could never surpass. And it wasn’t even something I could see. Speed. Something so intangible. How can I possibly fight something that can erase all my planning, all my skill, with a single moment of motion?

Then, I hear it.

"You’re completely wrong.""

A voice. Familiar. Soft, like a whisper.

It doesn’t come from the outside. No, it comes from within. A voice I thought I had buried long ago. The one I never thought I'd acknowledge one day. The one I tried to shut out.

Him.

I don’t even know why I think of him like that. Him. That name doesn’t fit anymore, does it? But it’s him. The only one who could make sense of the chaos inside me.

And as Levi’s strikes rain down on me, as my body crumbles under the pressure of his speed, I hear that voice again. But this time, it’s not just words—it’s a reminder.

"You never truly believed in yourself, did you, Alina? You always relied on your technique, on your gift. But it’s not enough to only have one side of the equation. You’re better than this. You’ve always been better."

I can feel myself slipping away, the weight of his words stirring something inside me. But the pain is too much. I’m breaking. I’m shattering. The voice seems so far away now, almost like it’s part of another life, a life I lived before this one.

Before him.

And I remember. The fleeting moments. The brief memories that always surface when I am at my lowest. The moments I’ve always tried to forget.

But now, I realize it.

I always relied on my technique.

And I always thought I was strong enough to stand alone.

But what he said was against my own thoughts... And I knew he was right all along.

The pain is unbearable, yet I continue to endure it. My body feels as if it’s already dead, and yet… I’m still alive. My muscles scream, my skin burns from the relentless strikes, but it’s all so distant now, like I’m drifting away.

As the cuts deepen and the world spins with every strike, my mind drifts back to another time, four years ago. Back when I was with him, Master. The one who saved me, who gave me the belief that, in this world, technique was enough.

It was a warm, peaceful day near the grassy field of the orphanage. The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything. The air was gentle, and the grass beneath us swayed in the breeze. I was sitting there with him—my savior, my guiding light.

He was always so calm, so controlled, never showing an ounce of doubt. His emotions, if he even had any, were always hidden behind that serene smile. I used to envy that, that complete control.

I wanted to be like him. He was everything I aspired to be—my ideal version.

“Master, tell me... what should I do to improve my sword skills?” I asked, my voice full of that earnestness, that yearning for growth.

He chuckled softly, the sound warm like the sun. “Master? Seriously calling me that now, Alina?” His voice was light, teasing, but there was something comforting in the way he spoke, something that made my heart feel a little less burdened.

I nodded, my determination unwavering. “Yes, you saved my life. You told me that I can do far more than I’ve limited myself to think. You’re my master.”

He laughed again, gently patting my head as if I were still a child, a simple gesture that always made me feel safe. “Relax, Alina. Don’t call me that. I’m just a teacher at best, plus I am only two years older than you.” But the smile in his eyes, the warmth in his gaze, said otherwise.

I couldn’t help but grin at his words, my gaze firm. “No, you are my master. You taught me everything I know. You saved me. I can’t just call you a teacher after that.”

I looked at him, my eyes softening, and then sighed, leaning back on the grass. “You don’t understand,” I said quietly, almost to myself. “You saved me in the forest... Not just physically, but... mentally, emotionally.” I paused, collecting my thoughts as the warmth of the memory washed over me.

“You gave me a reason to keep fighting, to keep improving. Before I met you..."

I looked at him, my voice quieter this time, as if speaking the truth was something I had to fight to admit. "I wasn't lost... I was just tired. Tired of everything. Life felt like a never-ending struggle, and I... I just wanted to die to escape it all. I didn’t know how to keep going. But then you—"

I stopped myself, swallowing the lump in my throat. The weight of those dark thoughts threatened to rise again, but I pushed them back.

"You gave me a reason to keep fighting. To keep moving forward," I said, my voice firmer now. "You didn't just save me from dying... You gave me something to live for. A reason to believe that I could still matter."

He raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shook his head. "I didn’t expect you to get all sentimental on me. But hey, I get it. You’ve come a long way. You’ve been working hard, pushing yourself, and that’s something to be proud of."

I felt a slight warmth spread across my face at his words. Proud of me? My heart gave a little flutter.

"Really?" I asked, a soft blush coloring my cheeks as I tried to hide it behind my hair.

He chuckled, his voice light and teasing. "Yeah. I mean, I might have helped point the way, but you’ve done all the walking yourself. You should give yourself some credit, Alina."

Then, before I could respond, he reached over and patted my head in a way that felt almost like a playful acknowledgment.

My face reddened further, and I resisted the urge to swat his hand away. "Hey, stop that! You’re making me blush," I mumbled, but I couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

He grinned, clearly enjoying teasing me. "You’re making it too easy, Alina."

I sighed, trying to hide my embarrassment, but I couldn’t help it. His words made something inside me warm, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything was okay. Like I wasn’t carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore.

"Master," I said, looking up at him with a stubborn smile, "I’m still going to call you that."

He gave me a long, amused look, then nodded with a sigh, clearly resigned to it. "Fine, fine. But only because I’m too tired to argue with you."

I grinned, feeling a sense of contentment in the small, simple moment. It was one of those moments where everything felt right, even though we both knew the world would soon pull us back into its chaos.

"Thanks, Master," I said softly, the words feeling more genuine now than before.

He smiled at me, a glint of warmth in his eyes. "Anytime, Alina."

We sat in silence for a moment, watching the world go by. The soft rustle of the grass, the chirping of birds, and the gentle breeze carrying the scent of earth and flowers—it was a peaceful moment, one I would hold onto forever.

After a long pause, he turned to me, his face serious now, but still warm. “You’ve learned a lot already, Alina. But remember, it’s not just about technique. It’s about the will to keep moving forward, no matter how hard it gets.”

He leaned back slightly, his tone more relaxed but still carrying weight. “The sword’s not just a weapon; it’s a part of who you are. If you don’t have the drive to keep pushing forward, you’re just going through the motions, barely alive.” He paused, meeting my eyes. “Your sword reflects your spirit, your will to fight. Without that, it’s just metal.”

I felt my chest tense, a deep sense of admiration for him filling me. “I understand, Master. It’s not just about skill… it’s about the heart behind it.”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “Yes. And remember, The way is in training. You must always seek to improve, to sharpen both your body and your mind.”

I could feel the weight of his words sinking in, filling me with purpose. But there was something more to it. Something deeper.

He looked at me thoughtfully, his voice steady but carrying a sense of urgency. “To know the way is to know yourself,” he said. “Your sword technique... it’s not just about the moves, the stance, or the strength. It has to come from your heart. You need to understand who you are before you can truly master the technique.”

I let those words wash over me, the truth in them as clear as the blue sky above. There was always more to learn, always more to understand. But I felt ready. With his guidance, I could become stronger. I could become more than I had ever thought possible.

“Master…” I hesitated, then asked softly, “May I ask you a question?”

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “Of course. What is it?”

I took a deep breath, the words lingering on the tip of my tongue. “Do you ever… doubt yourself? Even with all your wisdom and skill... Do you ever feel uncertain?”

He looked at me, his expression shifting just slightly, the corners of his mouth curling into a genuine smile. But there was something cold and sharp in his eyes when he spoke next.

“Doubt myself?” he repeated, his voice lowering, almost as if the very question itself didn’t sit well with him. “No. I never have to doubt myself. To some extend using magic might even hinder my skills. In this world, technique alone... is stronger than any force. It’s the ultimate power. And anyone who believes otherwise will learn that the hard way.”

He was silent for a moment, as if pondering the question again to give me genuine advice. Then, with a faint smile, he replied, “Uncertainty is a part of growth, Alina. It’s okay to doubt. But the key is to not let that doubt control you. You must learn to embrace it and use it to push yourself forward.”

His words comforted me in ways I couldn’t fully express. For the first time, I didn’t feel so alone in my struggles. He understood, and he believed in me.

In that moment, under the bright sky and surrounded by the warmth of the world, I knew that, with him by my side, I could overcome anything.

The memory—those words—clung to me as the pain continued to gnaw at my body. I could feel every cut, every bruise, yet amidst the agony, something inside me still held on to his teachings. His presence, his wisdom, they were my anchor, my strength, and my hope. They were the reason I hadn’t given up yet.

And then, just as if on cue, I felt it—the surge of energy, the sudden realization. The pain wasn’t just physical. It was the catalyst for something deeper. This memory. I’ve thought about it so many times before. But why now?

I gasped, my mind reeling as the thought hit me—this wasn’t just a memory. This wasn’t just a flashback to the past. I’m not fighting against Levi alone. I’m fighting against my weakness.

And I’m remembering what Master taught me…

"Master," I whispered to myself, almost as if speaking to the air, "I got another question."

Without missing a beat, the memory of his calm smile, his steady gaze, floated in my mind. “Speak your mind, Alina,” he’d said, always so patient, so kind.

I inhaled, gathering my thoughts. The pain, the exhaustion, they had clouded my mind. But I couldn’t ignore this anymore. “Master, I’m not fast. I can’t react in the blink of an eye like others. My body can’t keep up with the speed of my thoughts. Is there any way for me to overcome that? Can I ever… be faster?”

His face softened slightly, but there was an underlying understanding in his eyes. "Physical limitations may play a role, Alina. After all, God didn’t create everyone equally. But it's not our limitations that define us. It's our actions. Our decisions. They’re what make us who we are."

I frowned, a bit confused. “What do you mean by that?”

He looked at me, a spark of wisdom flickering in his gaze. "Ask me a scenario-based question. Something that makes you think. Then I'll explain it to you."

I thought for a moment, pondering the perfect question. I wasn’t just looking for an answer—I wanted to understand. “Okay then... tell me this,” I said, my voice firm despite the uncertainty in my chest. “If I were to fight someone stronger and faster than me, and my technique couldn’t keep up, how would I win?”

There was a moment of silence. A long, quiet pause where I felt the weight of the question hang in the air. Then, unexpectedly, his laughter broke through the tension.

He laughed out loud, so loudly that it startled me. "Ahahahahaha!"

I blinked, taken aback, my face flushing. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

I shook his arm, trying to get him to stop. “Hey! Why are you laughing?”

But he just kept laughing, shaking his head. “Hahahahaha…”

I pouted, my cheeks turning a little red. “Just tell me!” I demanded, my voice small but insistent.

He stopped laughing, but the glint in his eyes remained mischievous. “Alright, alright, little girl,” he teased, his voice soft with affection.

I puffed out my cheeks in annoyance, crossing my arms stubbornly. “Stop calling me that!”

He smiled, his expression softening as he met my gaze. “Listen carefully, Alina. It's time I reveal some of my secret tactics.”

I leaned in, every fiber of my being focused on his words. When he got serious, I knew it meant something big was coming.

“I’m going to teach you a technique,” he said, his voice low and sharp, the intensity in his gaze sharpening. “A tactic. One that will kill anyone’s gift of speed. Their speed will end the moment they meet you.”

I held my breath, every word he spoke sinking deep into my mind. His eyes locked onto mine, and I knew then that this was it. This was the key.

Slowly my mind faded from the memory from 4 years ago and I was back to the present at the arena.

I stood there, facing Levi, and everything else seemed to fade away. The crowd's cheers, the overwhelming speed of his strikes—everything blurred as his words from years ago echoed in my mind.

“I’m going to teach you a technique. A tactic. One that will kill anyone’s gift of speed.”

I could hear him clearly, his voice as sharp as the sword he wielded. I could see his eyes, so confident, so sure. He had told me that I would be able to overcome any opponent with this technique.

And suddenly, everything clicked. The speed, the chaos, all of it slowed as I focused. Levi’s blinding movements were no longer something to fear—they were just another challenge, another puzzle I could solve with my technique.

This was it. Time to test what Master had taught me.

The God-Speed Killer.