The night before the Overlords Academy Championship Tournant was unnaturally quiet. The air in Professor Rogge’s lab was stale, slling of ozone and the tallic tang of high-grade alchemy.
Alvian sat cross-legged on the cold floor, the [Vestnts of the Void Monarch] rippling around him like liquid smoke.
In his hand, he held a delicate crystal vial containing a swirling, crimson liquid. It was the extract of the [Fla Flower] he had retrieved from the Sunken Ruins in the Ashen Sands.
It was a legendary herb capable of permanently increasing mana regeneration. For any mage, it was a treasure worth killing for. For Alvian, it was rely a raw ingredient.
"System," Alvian commanded internally. "Scan item."
[Item: Potion of the Undying Fla (Diluted)]
[Grade: Epic]
[Effect: Permanently increases Mana Regeneration by 50%.]
"Fifty percent," Alvian scoffed. "Pathetic. That won’t sustain the [Avatar State]."
He checked his daily charges.
[Daily Charges: 2/2]
The clock had just struck midnight. His charges had reset.
"Upgrade it."
[Ding!]
[SSS-Rank Talent [Super Upgrade System] authority invoked!]
[Consuming one (1) daily charge... Upgrade Successful!]
The vial trembled. The crimson liquid boiled, turning a deep, pulsating gold.
[Item Evolved: Elixir of the Solar Core]
[Grade: Legendary (Orange)]
[Effect: Permanently increases Mana Regeneration by 500%. Grants Passive: [Solar Cycle] - Mana regenerates even during combat or casting.]
"Better," Alvian muttered. "But not broken."
He narrowed his eyes. The Tournant would be a gauntlet. Wave after wave of elites, followed by the Syndicate’s "Subject Zero." He couldn’t afford to run dry.
"Again."
[Consuming final daily charge... Forcing Mutation...]
[Ding!]
[Upgrade Critical Success!]
The vial shattered, but the liquid didn’t spill. Instead, it ford a floating sphere of pure, blinding white light.
[Item Evolved: The Tear of the Infinite]
[Grade: Mythical (Red)]
[Type: Consumable / Divine]
[Effect: Fuses with the user’s Mana Core. Grants [Infinite Sustain].]
[Detail: Your Mana Regeneration is increased by 5,000%. Your base Mana Pool regenerates 10% of its total volu every second, regardless of expenditure.]
Alvian stared at the floating orb.
Five thousand percent.
Ten percent per second.
That ant he could cast a legendary spell, drain his entire pool, and be fully recharged in ten seconds. It ant he could keep [Frost Heart] active indefinitely.
It ant he was no longer a mage with a mana bar. He was a natural disaster with an on-switch.
"Down the hatch."
He opened his mouth and inhaled the sphere.
"BOOM!"
A shockwave of energy exploded from his body.
[Mana Core Reforged!]
[Energy Attribute 50!]
[Current MP: 45,000 / 45,000]
[Regeneration: 4,500 MP/sec]
Alvian stood up. The air around him distorted. He felt limitless.
He grabbed the [Lance of the Void Winter] from the table. The weapon humd, sensing the infinite well of power it was now connected to.
"Ti to go," Alvian whispered.
He walked out of the lab, the heavy iron doors groaning as they parted for the Anomaly.
The Grand Arena of Overlords Academy was a colossus of white marble floating separate from the main campus. It seated fifty thousand spectators, and today, every seat was filled.
Students, faculty, and visiting dignitaries from the capital buzzed with excitent. But beneath the cheers, there was tension. Everyone knew the stakes. Everyone knew about the Godslayer.
Alvian walked through the competitor’s tunnel. The darkness was comforting.
Suddenly, a figure stepped out from the shadows, blocking his path.
It was Valeria.
She wore a new set of silver plate armor, etched with the crest of the Vanguard. Her claymore was strapped to her back, gleaming with a fresh polish. She looked stronger, more focused than she had in Silverwood.
She wasn’t the broken girl who bowed to him on the mountain. She was the Titan of the Vanguard.
Alvian stopped. "Get out of my way, Valeria."
Valeria didn’t move. Her grey eyes locked onto his.
"I heard the rumors," she said, her voice steady. "Lysander is your first match. The Syndicate did sothing to him."
"I know," Alvian replied, his face impassive. "He’s walking dead."
"Don’t underestimate him," Valeria warned. "And don’t underestimate ."
She took a step closer, the gap between them shrinking to inches.
"In Silverwood, you saved . You showed the gap between a soldier and a monster. I respected that. I bowed to that."
She placed her hand on the hilt of her claymore.
"But this is the Arena. There are no monsters here, Alvian. Only opponents. I have trained in the Hyperbolic Mana Chamber until my blood boiled. I unlocked the [Titan’s Heart]."
She pointed a gauntleted finger at his chest.
"I will et you in the Finals. And when I do, I won’t bow. I will win."
Alvian looked at her. He saw the fire in her soul. It wasn’t the desperate survival instinct of the weak. It was the hunger of the strong.
For the first ti since his rebirth, a genuine, albeit small, smile touched his lips.
"Good," Alvian said. "Being a shield suits you, Valeria. But let’s see if you can stop a spear that kills gods."
He walked past her, their shoulders brushing.
"Don’t lose before you get to ," Alvian added without looking back.
Valeria watched him go, her grip on her sword tightening until the tal groaned.
"I won’t," she whispered.
Alvian stepped out into the blinding sunlight of the arena.
The roar of the crowd hit him like a physical wall.
"LADIES AND GENTLEN!" The comntator’s voice bood, magically amplified. "WELCO TO THE 99TH OVERLORDS CHAMPIONSHIP!"
"IN THE BLUE CORNER! THE PRODIGY! THE ANOMALY! THE GODSLAYER! ALVIAN!"
The cheers were mixed with terrified silence. Thousands of eyes tracked him.
"AND IN THE RED CORNER! RETURNING FROM DISGRACE TO RECLAIM HIS HONOR! THE VICE-HEAD OF THE ARCANISTS! LYSANDER!"
Across the arena, a gate opened.
A figure stumbled out.
It was Lysander. But it wasn’t the noble mage Alvian had fought weeks ago.
His dragon-scale armor was cracked, fused directly into his flesh. His skin was grey, pulsing with thick, black veins. His eyes were gone, replaced by burning violet sockets that leaked smoke.
He didn’t hold a staff. His hands were claws, elongated and dripping with corruption.
[Target: Lysander (Modified)]
[Level: 42]
[Status: Subject Zero Prototype / Unstable]
[Threat: High]
The crowd gasped. This wasn’t a student. This was a monster.
Alvian narrowed his eyes.
"So," Alvian muttered, equipping his Lance. "The Syndicate decided to skip the subtle approach."
Lysander threw his head back and roared. It wasn’t a human sound. It was the shriek of a demon wearing a human suit.
"ALVIAN!!!" Lysander scread, his voice distorting. "FEED... !"
The barrier rose.
[Round 1: Start!]
Alvian didn’t wait.
"System. Activate [Frost Heart]."
[Avatar State: Partial Transformation.]
Ice scales covered Alvian’s neck. His mana surged, infinitely replenishing.
"Let’s put you out of your misery."
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