The World Is Mine For The Taking

The battle between us wasn't just a fight—it was a storm. A violent, chaotic force tearing through the air, sending shockwaves with every clash of our blades. It felt like the world itself was shaking under the weight of our strength. The sound of our swords meeting didn't even resemble steel anymore. It was something heavier—thicker—like thunder crashing down, sending ripples of force through the battlefield.

Every swing carried enough power to crack the earth beneath us. The sheer force behind each strike sent gusts of wind howling across the arena, kicking up dust and debris like an unstoppable tempest. The spectators had started with jeers, but now? Now they were dead silent, too stunned to even breathe properly.

We both knew it.

I was strong. She was strong.

But neither of us would back down.

Her eyes—those eyes—burned with something wild. It was like she had woken up from a long-ass slumber and was only now remembering what it meant to fight, to truly fight. Every movement of hers carried lethal precision, her sword carving through the air like a streak of pure light. And her attacks had gotten even stronger. My arms rattled with every impact, my muscles screaming under the relentless assault.

"Now then… shall we, Ayuru?" I whispered to my sword, feeling the wicked hunger stirring within it.

The moment I called to her, Ayuru answered.

A brutal, violent pull shot through my body as the Cursed Sword drained a massive amount of mana from me, drinking deep like a starving beast. It wasn't a gentle pull—it was ruthless. The sheer intensity of it could've turned any weakling into a dry, withered husk in an instant. Ayuru's power wasn't something to wield lightly. It was a force meant to tear apart anyone foolish enough to try.

She was a Cursed Sword, after all.

A weapon feared across the lands, a blade that had killed more of its wielders than its enemies. Most who held her barely lasted a day. She was a raw advantage in battle but a brutal liability to her wielder. Without an absurdly large mana pool, one swing would be enough to kill you. A perfect example of a double-edged sword.

But after the battle at the capital—after I used her to cut down the Great Darkness—something changed. Maybe she liked me. Maybe she recognized me. Either way, she stopped feeding on me without permission. Now, she only drank what I willingly offered.

And right now, I was feeding her everything I had.

Ayuru's power surged through me, a black, writhing energy wrapping around the blade like living shadows. My mana pulsed through her, thick and heavy, dark as the abyss itself. The sheer pressure of it made the ground beneath my feet crack.

I grinned.

And then, I swung.

Her blade was a streak of blinding white, but mine was a deep, consuming void.

The moment our swords met, the air around us detonated. A violent eruption of raw mana exploded outward, blasting through the arena with the force of a goddamn bomb. The impact sent a deafening shockwave rippling through the crowd, forcing spectators to stumble back. Some were even thrown clear off their feet. The referee, realizing how insane this fight had become, abandoned the platform altogether. That poor bastard had already abandoned the platform, realizing he was way too close to ground zero.

Those who had been unconscious from her earlier intimidation were dragged away by the ones still standing, but even they were struggling to hold on under the sheer pressure of our clash.

And then, the dust settled.

I saw her.

Still standing.

Panting.

But still standing.

I had expected my strike to rip through her, to tear her down, to make her body remember the force of my attack—but she was still there.

I narrowed my eyes. Could she… take a hit strong enough to bring down a dragon?

The Great Darkness had recognized my power that day, yet this woman—

She dropped to one knee.

Her breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps. The radiant light that had once enveloped her sword flickered, weakened. The strength she had poured into it was crumbling away. She pressed the blade into the ground, using it to keep herself upright, but then I saw it—

A crack.

Thin at first, but spreading.

Her sword was breaking.

One more hit, and it'd shatter completely.

She had lost.

I pressed the tip of my sword against her throat, the cold steel grazing her skin, a hair's breadth from cutting deep. Her ragged breath shuddered against the blade, her body frozen in place, but her eyes—those sharp, burning eyes—still held defiance.

"You lost," I murmured, my voice low but absolute. "I won. Now, tell me—who are you, and what's your connection to the Eclipse? Or better yet, spill everything about the sick fuck who created that twisted organization. Why the hell are you trying to rip open a rift and let those otherworldly bastards pour into this world?"

She said nothing.

Just glared, lips pressed into a thin line. The silence stretched between us, thick with tension, but I could see it in her eyes—she wasn't going to break easily. Stubborn. Arrogant. But that was fine. I had all the time in the world.

Then—

Something shifted.

A faint vibration beneath my boots. A presence.

Without hesitation, I drove my fist through the concrete platform, the sheer force sending cracks spiderwebbing outward. My fingers closed around something solid, and in one brutal yank, I dragged it out into the open.

"Nhggg!?"

The thing I pulled free—

Was a woman.

Bare naked. Her pale skin glistened under the arena's lights, sweat dripping down the curves of her body, her chest heaving in shock. How the hell had she even gotten inside the platform? That thing was solid concrete—no gaps, no space to slip through.

Phasing ability.

Had to be.

But none of that mattered now—I had her by the throat.

"W-Why… can't I… get out?!" she gasped, her delicate hands clawing at my wrist, nails scraping against my skin in a desperate attempt to pry herself free.

She was panicking.

Because no matter how much she struggled, she couldn't use her ability.

I smirked.

"Because I'm holding you," I said, lifting my hand slightly to show her the obsidian ring wrapped around my finger. A power-dampener. Weak, sure—but enough to shut down low-tier abilities like hers. "Looks like your little escape trick doesn't work on me, sweetheart."

Her pupils shrank. Fear flickered across her face.

"And?" My voice dropped lower, colder. "What exactly are you?"

I tightened my grip around her throat.

She let out a strangled gasp. Her body twisted, legs kicking slightly, muscles tensing—then suddenly, her fingers twitched.

Something—no, something dangerous—manifested in her grasp.

A remote.

The moment I saw it, I knew.

Before I could rip it away, she slammed her thumb down on the button.

And then I felt it.

Guardian's warning slammed into me like a shockwave. Every nerve in my body went rigid, my instincts roaring in alarm.

A large-scale detonation.

A catastrophe waiting to happen.

The kind of explosion that wouldn't just level this arena—it would wipe out every single person inside it.

Titania. Trill.

Two of my girls were in that crowd.

I clicked my tongue, then launched the bitch away from me.

In the same breath, I activated Guardian, pouring every ounce of my will into its expansion. The gold translucent barrier erupted outward, stretching, spreading—covering every single inch of the arena with an unbreakable dome.

And then—

BOOM.

The explosion detonated beneath my feet.

A firestorm erupted from the ground, a monstrous inferno swallowing everything in its path. The shockwave blasted outward, the force so violent that it would have torn flesh from bone if it weren't for Guardian's protection. The sound—It wasn't just loud. It was deafening.

The kind of explosion that didn't just echo—it ripped through the air, a brutal, concussive force that nearly shattered my eardrums. Flames roared against the barrier, sparks flashing like miniature stars against the translucent shield.

But Guardian held.

The arena—though scorched and crumbling—stood.

I exhaled sharply, smoke curling through the air around me.

I scanned my surroundings, my vision slightly hazy. Titania and Trill were safe—thank goodness for that. As for the other spectators… I didn't care much for them, but I sure as hell didn't want them dead.

But the woman I had been fighting—along with the naked bitch—were both gone. Vanished.

The only thing left behind was a nearly shattered sword, lying pathetically amidst the rubble.

Then the panic set in.

The once-rowdy crowd—so eager for bloodshed just moments ago—was now in complete disarray. Screams filled the air. People shoved past each other in a desperate scramble to flee. Not that I blamed them. They had all almost died.

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A wave of dizziness suddenly crashed over me. My body felt heavier, sluggish—my mana reserves were nearly drained.

The edges of my vision blurred. My knees buckled, and I nearly collapsed then and there—until—

"Leon!"

Titania and Trill's voices rang out in unison, thick with worry.

I barely had time to process their frantic steps before they reached me, their movements causing their generous tits to bounce with each hurried stride.

Soft. Round.

The next thing I knew, my body gave in, tilting forward—

And landed right into those plush, pillowy mounds.