Silence filled the surroundings.

Ash stood there, dressed in the same red and black outfit, Eclipse resting firmly in his hands, his eyes filled with nothing but coldness.

....What's the assassin waiting for...?

He could sense nothing at all. There was no presence on the rooftop, no shift of aura, not even the faintest ripple of intent. Only the shadows and the glow of scattered lights of the festival.

...The only reason I can't feel anyone must be because the assassin is stronger than me...

Even knowing that, Ash had no intention of stepping back. He was not someone who would ever retreat from a fight. Fear did not exist in his heart, and hesitation never crossed his mind. What filled him instead was the simple will to fight and the sharper will to kill.

He waited. A minute passed, and then another, yet no attack came. Ash remained still, though his instincts told him something had shifted. The air was no longer the same. There was a faint difference in its texture, subtle but undeniable.

After the incident with the Hollow Mother, his instincts were really sensitive, especially towards the tiniest disturbances carried within the air. That same instinct now warned him.

He activated Elemental Sight, and immediately, he saw them—green particles slowly spreading around him. They were faint, invisible to the naked eye, but unmistakable. Poison.

The particles were mixing with the natural mana in the air, and as they combined, the reaction quickened, expanding outward with unnatural speed, as if feeding on the mana itself.

...So, that's what the plan was...

Ash's lips curved into a cold, chilling smile.

But it was not the poison that amused him, nor the process of its spread. What made him smile was the trail he could see through his vision, the faint thread of origin, leading back to a spot drowned in shadows.

---

..Where is the girl..?

Roan narrowed his eyes, unsettled by how quickly Ash had reacted. He had not expected his senses to be this sharp, nor his response this immediate.

....He summoned his sword, raised a mana shield in an instant.....then the smoke bomb, and after that, the girl vanished....

The sequence frustrated him. There were only two possibilities, yet both should have been impossible.

The first was that Ash had teleported out of the isolated space with some ancient or rare artifact, leaving the girl in safety.

The second was that he had used an artifact capable of storing living beings, placing the girl inside it.

Either way, the smoke had concealed the truth, leaving no way to determine which possibility was real and which was false.

Even so, Roan leaned toward the second option.

If Ash had an artifact that allowed him to break free of spatial isolation, then he would not still be standing here now, calmly awaiting the next move.

Unconsciously, Roan felt his heartbeat quicken. Greed rose from the depths of his chest, sharp and unrelenting. He had never heard of an artifact capable of storing living things. The possibilities of such an item were beyond imagination.

....What a lucky day. If he carries something like that, then there must be countless other secrets about him as well. Perhaps he stumbled upon an ancient legacy. That would explain his strength....

But then, he noticed Ash.

That smile.

A chill crept along his spine. For a brief moment, he felt as though Ash's gaze had pierced directly through the shadows and fixed upon him, stripping away every layer of concealment.

The poison spread silently within the isolated space. Roan himself was unaffected, the antidote flowing through his veins, and his plan remained unchanged. He intended to let the poison weaken Ash slowly, and only if it failed would he reveal himself.

Yet now, with that smile aimed straight at him, unease stirred.

And then, Ash vanished.

Appearing a short distance away from Roan's position, Eclipse gleamed with violet mana as a downward slash cut through the air towards him.

But who was Roan?

He was a Grandmaster, with three stats—Strength, Agility, and Stamina—each at 600 points. The very peak of what a Grandmaster could ever reach.

He reacted in an instant. His body slid out from the shadows like water finding its course, and he countered without hesitation. In his hands, he carried two long daggers, pitch black in color, their surfaces covered with a faint, wavering aura of shadows that made them seem alive.

Clang!!

The impact rang out sharp and heavy, forcing Ash to skid across the invisible ground of the isolated space while Roan himself was pushed two steps back.

---

Strong... Ash thought, his eyes narrowing. He could clearly feel the enormous amount of mana radiating from the assassin in front of him. Judging by that alone, this man was most likely around Grandmaster rank.

The assassin's attire was exactly what one would expect from his kind. Black clothes that blended into the darkness, a hood concealing most of his head, and a half mask covering his face up to the nose, leaving only his black eyes visible. Those eyes looked like voids, empty and unfeeling, fixed entirely on him.

He has awakened Aura... that means he has at least mastered three forms of weapon arts. And with that shadow trick he used to appear out of nowhere, he is dangerous....

....If it were anyone else...

Ash's lips curved upward, his smile widening as his excitement grew.

He had been disappointed earlier when he couldn't fight even a single Lord beast in the untamed forest, but right now someone had come to him of their own accord.

...I won't hold back...

In truth, Ash was only at Adept Rank. His growth in raw stats had stagnated for quite some time; he did not know why. His potential was at Grandmaster rank, and his growth should be faster, not lower.

Ash had made up his mind that if this continued, he would have to take some extreme measures. But even after that, Ash did not stop.

Instead of wasting time dwelling on it, he had been pouring his efforts into training. Making his weapon arts, sharpening his control over mana, polishing his skills until each one became second nature. He was creating new spells, experimenting, pushing himself through practice after practice. There was not just one way to become strong.

And right now, what he wanted most was to test himself, to measure how far he had come by crossing blades with someone powerful.

Alright... come on... let's see how strong I've become after attaining the first stage of weapon mastery...

With that thought burning in him, Ash flooded his body with mana, enhancing every muscle and nerve until his entire frame seemed to hum with energy. He took a basic sword stance, grounding himself, then rushed towards Roan, lightning crackling faintly in his wake.

He chose not to use Transcendent Step or any of the other spells in his arsenal. He wanted to test whether his sword alone could cut down this assassin. It was not arrogance. It was not blind overconfidence. It was a conviction born from belief in his own progress. Even if he died in the process, he felt that it would still be worth it.

Nor that he could die.

A dangerous mindset, one that carried the scent of recklessness, almost bordering on a suicidal tendency.

-Clang!!

-Clang!!

The sharp music of steel rang again and again as swords and daggers collided, filling the isolated space with their sound. Their movements blurred, bodies darting and twisting at speeds that strained the eye, lunging and pressing against each other as though each strike was meant to consume the other's existence.

Ash relied only on his sword techniques. He parried with precise timing, created openings through feints, slashed with sharp intent, and pierced with calculated thrusts. His footwork shifted constantly, his body weaving through the air with bursts of sudden speed. At times, his form glowed with different colors as mana surged, making him unnaturally flexible, striking from angles that seemed almost impossible for a human body to achieve.

The continuous clashing and ringing of weapons echoed like a rhythm that neither fighter intended to end.

Ash felt his body move on its own, responding faster than his thoughts, instincts sharpened to their limit. His control over his own body had never been better, and it allowed him to counter strike after strike from Roan's daggers.

Yet there was something else within the clash. A subtle presence that was easy to miss.

There was formless poison drifting unseen, invisible to the naked eye yet still weaving through the air. It was a poison that killed without any pain, leaving no warning signs to the victim. That was the only reason Ash had not noticed its intrusion, even as it quietly seeped into his body.

Though it was neutralized as soon as it entered his bloodstream.

But even though, he parried the attacks and even counterattacked...

Ash's body carried visible wounds from the fight. His clothes were torn, and cuts could be seen clearly on his skin. The blood was not flowing, but the marks of battle remained, raw and undeniable.

The same was also true for Roan, though his injuries were far less severe, almost negligible in comparison.

Ash's stats were around 400, while Roan's three core stats—Strength, Agility, and Stamina—were at 600. The difference between them was obvious, and that was without taking into account the gap in their skill.

....Yes, this is the gap...

Ash thought as he created distance between them. His body began to heal at a speed visible to the eye, torn skin stitching back together, the damage fading with every passing second.

It was then that Roan spoke for the first time.

"You have quite a rare trait of healing. Something not even mentioned in the information I received."

His voice was cold, carrying a sharp edge that felt almost chilling, though hidden beneath it was a faint trace of surprise.

Ash breathed slowly, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, before replying, "Nobody knows, because I killed everyone who knew about it."

In truth, it was a bluff. Yet Ash understood that intimidation was also a weapon, just as sharp as the blade he held. From their earlier clash, he had already judged the difference in skill, and he knew this opponent was not one to underestimate.

He had already stepped into the first stage of weapon mastery, but to reach the second, he would need to make a sword art, after all, he wanted something that was suitable for him, something he was still exploring. Which meant there was no longer any point in holding back.

Yeah, let's end this... otherwise, Elysia will get worried over nothing...

He tested his sword against a strong enemy, feeling the familiar weight and the faint change in his control, and he was satisfied. His heart longed to fight longer, to learn more through each exchange, but dragging this out now would serve no purpose.

As that thought settled, an unseen pressure spread out from his body, filling the isolated space. It was heavy, oppressive, and it twisted the air as though the space itself was bowing beneath its weight.

For the first time in a long while... Ash let the aura of his Primordial Cores run wild.

****

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