Then—
Thick, boiling magma erupted out of thin air directly in the weapon’s path with a sound like the earth itself tearing open—a deep, grinding rrrrrmmm that reverberated through the entire arena floor.
Not a small amount. An absolutely vast quantity of dense molten volcanic rock materialized as a layered shield in front of the creature, appearing instantaneously as if reality had simply rearranged its priorities.
Leon’s blade hit the first layer and cut through with a screaming tallic shriek, holy energy searing and hissing as it encountered the extre heat—sssshhhk—burning through the initial barrier of cooling volcanic material before slamming into the second layer, then a third.
The sound was like dragging steel across volcanic stone—harsh, grinding, deeply unpleasant—as the blade carved its way through successive barriers.
But at the end of its arc, the sword stopped.
It didn’t reach the creature.
The blade buried itself with a heavy, muffled clang in magma that was already rapidly cooling and solidifying around it like a stone fist closing.
Leon disengaged imdiately, wrenching his weapon free with a sharp crack of breaking rock and backing off several ters to reassess.
That was genuinely impressive. How did such a vast amount of magma appear that instantaneously?
What disturbed him more was the almost negligible amount of mana expenditure he’d detected from the creature during that entire defensive display. As soone naturally attuned to mana fluctuations across all elents, he was extrely sensitive to these things.
The amount it spent on that should have been enormous. But I barely registered a flicker. The efficiency gap between us is extraordinary.
He was still processing when he felt it from his right—intense, radiating heat that arrived a fraction before the attack itself, like the air announcing what was coming.
A massive fist of solidified volcanic rock ca at him with trendous speed, dense and enormous, weighing what must have been several tons. The wind it displaced alone made a deep whooomp as it tore through the air.
Leon threw his blade and forearm up to intercept, catching the impact on the flat of the sword combined with his armored forearm.
The collision produced a bone-deep boom that he felt in his teeth.
The force launched him backward through the air, feet leaving the ground completely as he was sent skidding and tumbling backward nearly twenty ters. His arms went partially numb from the transmitted impact even through his holy armor, the vibration traveling up through his shoulders uncomfortably.
Strong. Much stronger than I expected even accounting for the rank difference.
There was no ti to shake the feeling back into his arms. He felt the presence shift in the air—a subtle wrongness—an instant before it arrived. The creature had moved from its position in front without him detecting the transition.
It was already behind him.
Not only was its raw strength trendous, but its speed was on a genuinely different level—barely detectable even to his enhanced spatial awareness, which was one of his most reliable senses.
The follow-up attack ca as a chain-like tendril of sharp magma that moved with disturbing intelligence rather than simple trajectory—it curved mid-flight, adjusting its path to follow his movent like it was alive, accompanied by a persistent, low-pitched whistling hiss as it sliced through the air.
Leon twisted at the last mont, taking the impact on his armored shoulder rather than anywhere vital.
The collision produced a sharp crack, and the copper taste of blood flooded his mouth instantly from the internal shock wave that transferred through even his divine protection.
But the injury sealed itself within a millisecond as his body processed the trauma and redirected resources. The vast reservoir of holy energy within him made his recovery even faster than his life elent alone could manage—the sheer accumulated quantity compensating for what it lacked in natural regenerative efficiency.
The battle found its rhythm then—brutal, relentless, and unforgiving.
The creature pressed its advantage with calculated force, each attack arriving from a different angle at speeds that genuinely pushed Leon’s detection and reaction capabilities toward their limits. It clearly wasn’t using its full power—holding back in deliberate, asured fashion—but what it did use created serious, continuous problems.
Leon’s arm was completely severed twice in rapid succession with wet, heavy sounds he’d rather not dwell on. His shoulder was crushed with a grinding crunch of holy armor giving way. Multiple concentrated magma bursts burned through his protection in overlapping patches with sharp hissing and cracking sounds, leaving charred flesh beneath that healed faster than the heat could accumulate lasting damage. He vomited blood more than once from the sustained internal concussive trauma transmitted through exchanges he couldn’t fully absorb.
And every single ti—every wound, every missing limb, every shattered section of bone—he rallied back within monts. The injuries closed with faint crackling sounds of holy energy working. The limbs regrew. His stance straightened again.
Through it all, Leon maintained an extrely solemn, laser-focused expression. Not fear, not desperation—just intense concentration on surviving each current mont while cataloguing everything the creature revealed.
Hundreds of exchanges passed in less than a single minute at the velocity they were operating.
anwhile, behind the creature’s confident exterior, sothing unexpected had developed.
What... exactly is this human made of?
Every ti the creature landed what should have been a genuinely fight-ending blow—the kind that should produce permanent, decisive damage—this human would recover in monts as if the injury had been rely inconvenient. Arm regrown. Chest healed over. Eyes refocusing with that sa infuriating, steady intensity.
The creature’s own recovery ability was exceptional—considered one of the most remarkable traits of its particular race, granting it trendous staying power in extended engagents.
Yet this human’s regeneration was making its racial advantage look embarrassingly diocre by direct comparison.
If this recovery is what I think it is...
For a brief mont, it considered the legends it had heard about certain high-ranking demons and their extraordinary physical resilience. But it had never personally witnessed those abilities, so comparison remained purely theoretical and ultimately unhelpful.
Regardless. The poison continues working. The outco remains certain.
The creature wasn’t genuinely concerned—not truly. Its primary thod was still operating invisibly throughout their entire exchange, patient and unstoppable.
Since the very first monts of combat, an odorless, completely invisible poison had been slowly saturating the arena atmosphere—a unique synthesis mixed with its abyssal energy that most beings never detected until the accumulated dose reached critical threshold and it was far, far too late.
Extrely lethal. Administered gradually over the sustained duration of battle. Once the buildup reached the decisive point, the target’s body would simply cease functioning. No dramatic resistance possible, no warning symptoms until the very end—just swift cessation of all processes.
It had detected the human’s system attempting so form of resistance to the accumulation, which was mildly surprising. But from the new shakiness appearing in that previously rock-steady stance and the subtle deterioration in movent precision, the poison was clearly winning the slow war of attrition.
Almost ti. This ends soon.
Leon, anwhile, had reached a realization partway through the seemingly endless barrage of exchanges.
The magma the creature deployed wasn’t simply a standalone elental ability operating in isolation. It was sothing far more sophisticated—the molten rock itself was being manipulated through a combination of energy that resembled aura in its extraordinary precision and pure mana in its raw, staggering volu.
What even is this?
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