The clash of steel rang out again and again, echoing through the cold stone chamber like war drums.
Selene moved like a phantom—each step fluid, every strike precise. Her blades flashed in the air as she danced around the black-armored knight, targeting weak points in the joints of his armor.
Noa followed just a heartbeat behind, his attacks reckless but calculated, wild but sharp. His blade sang with each swing, pushing the knight back with unrelenting pressure.
It was a strange kind of coordination between them. They hadn't trained together, hadn't spoken a word during the fight—but they moved as if they had. An unspoken rhythm.
The knight raised his massive sword and swung it in a wide arc.
Selene barely blocked it in time with her crossed blades, the force of the blow sending her skidding backward across the cracked stone floor. Her boots scraped against the ground, barely keeping her upright.
"Tch…" she clicked her tongue and steadied her breath.
But even before the knight could press the advantage—
Noa was already there.
He dashed in, letting out a low growl as he slashed at the knight's exposed side.
Steel sparked off black armor, pushing the knight back a step. Still no serious damage.
"God, how thick is this tin can?!" Noa spat, grinning despite the situation. His hands stung from the impact, but his eyes glittered with excitement.
The knight turned toward him, raising his sword.
Then Selene was there again.
She struck from behind, aiming a brutal stab toward the knight's unguarded lower back. The knight twisted at the last second, her blade scraping uselessly off the curve of his plated hip.
The knight retaliated with a swift elbow to her side—Selene grunted as she was knocked away, flipping mid-air before landing on one knee.
Noa took her place again in an instant.
He ducked low, kicked off the ground, and brought his blade down in an overhead strike. The knight raised his sword to parry—but this time, the blow made him stagger.
It was small, but it was something.
Selene rose to her feet, wiping a trace of blood from the corner of her mouth.
"…We're chipping away at him," she said coolly, circling around the knight.
Noa gave a breathless laugh. "At this rate, we'll wear him down by next year."
The knight let out a low, metallic hum—as if finally recognizing them as threats.
His helmet turned slowly, golden slits in the visor locking onto them.
Then he charged.
Noa barely blocked the first strike. The force rattled through his arms like lightning.
"Go!" he shouted to Selene through clenched teeth. "Hit him while I—!"
But she was already moving, blades flashing again.
Their roles reversed. When one was struck, the other attacked. When one faltered, the other surged forward.
And for the first time… his movements were slowing.
Selene lifted her arm, golden eyes narrowing with focus. The air around her shimmered.
A low hum built in the chamber, followed by a sudden pulse—like a heartbeat made of magic.
From her outstretched hand, a swirling vortex of flame exploded forth. But it wasn't normal fire.
White and deep crimson flames spiraled together—chaotic, unnatural, beautiful in a deadly kind of way. The air warped as the magic tore through the space between her and the knight, screaming with raw power.
The inferno slammed into the black knight.
For a moment, everything disappeared in fire and smoke. The heat was unbearable. Even Noa, standing off to the side, had to raise an arm to shield his face.
Then—
A metallic groan.
The knight staggered out of the flames, his armor now scorched and misshapen. Patches of blackened steel flaked off, exposing warped underlayers. His shoulder plate was half-melted, one gauntlet twisted into something unusable.
He looked less like an indomitable knight now, and more like a demon dragged from a furnace.
Noa's eyes widened, and a wild grin tugged at his lips.
I knew it. I knew she was dangerous… but this… he thought, heart pounding. That wasn't just some little spell. That was a damn furnace from hell.
The knight stumbled—but didn't fall.
Instead, he let out a low, inhuman snarl. His visor cracked slightly from the heat, revealing the faint glow of something burning inside.
And then he raised his sword again.
Noa stepped forward, gripping his own weapon tightly.
"That got his attention," he muttered with a half-laugh.
Selene didn't look at him, but he heard her breath—
Calm, controlled and focused.
"…Next strike is yours," she said coldly, her voice tinged with something deeper now.
Challenge. Maybe a test
The knight rushed forward once more, wounded—but not yet defeated.
And Noa dashed to meet him.
The knight charged—unyielding despite the warped armor and seared flesh beneath.
Noa met him halfway.
There was no hesitation. No pause. No warning.
In a blur of movement, Noa's body twisted low, avoiding the downward swing of the massive black sword. His feet scraped across the stone floor, kicking up dust. Then—
His blade moved.
Once. Twice. Then again. And again.
But it wasn't just a flurry—it was a storm.
Each slash came with terrifying precision and blinding speed. A diagonal cut across the torso. A reverse sweep that severed armor at the hip. A clean strike that passed through the knight's left leg like paper. The sound of rending steel echoed louder than the clash of swords.
To anyone watching, it didn't even look like multiple strikes.
It looked like one slash, one devastating motion—only when the knight stumbled back did the truth catch up.
A beat passed.
Then—
CRACK.
The knight's arm dropped, severed at the shoulder. His chest plate split open, a jagged, glowing line running from collar to waist. His legs gave out as they slid apart, cleanly separated.
And finally—
The head, helmet and all, fell from the body with a muted clunk as the knight collapsed in pieces.
Silence.
The only sound left was Noa's heavy breathing. He stood over the mangled remains, his sword stained black with smoke and blood.
For a heartbeat, there was only silence between them—then, in perfect sync, both Noa and Selene raised their blades.
The steel gleamed in the fading torchlight as each sword came to a halt at the other's throat.
Not a tremble between them.
Selene's golden eyes were sharp, her voice flat but laced with intensity. "The sword. Give it to me."
Noa didn't flinch. His eyes narrowed, a wry smile tugging at his lips."Sword? Sorry, but it's mine."
"Just answer this," Selene pressed, her blade still unmoving. "Are you already bound to it? Do you feel tired when you use it?"
"Bound?" Noa blinked, confused for a half-second. "Wh—"
Before he could finish, a sudden whoosh of heat rushed past them.
Boom!
A fireball exploded against the stone a few meters away, sending dust and cracked rock flying in all directions. Both Noa and Selene leapt back instinctively, swords still in hand.
Noa spun toward the direction of the blast.
Standing there—bloodied, bruised, eyes wild with fury—was Alaric.
His cloak was half-burned, one arm hanging limp at his side. But the other hand crackled with residual magic.
"You…" he growled, spitting blood. "You did this… You led us into this trap!"
Noa's expression darkened, the grin slipping away."…What?"
Alaric staggered a step forward, flames licking up his fingers again.
"You brought us here! You… all of this was your doing!" he shouted, voice breaking between rage and desperation. "Lyra… Thalia… they died because of you!"
For a long second, Noa just stared at him. Eyes blank.
Then he said, very slowly. "…You're out of your damn mind."
Selene didn't lower her blade. Her gaze shifted slightly—now watching Alaric instead of Noa.
"DON'T FUCK WITH ME! THEY'RE ALL DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!"
Alaric's voice cracked, raw and venomous. His bloodshot eyes darted between the corpses, his hand trembling as he pointed at Noa. Spit flew from his lips, his body quivering not just with rage—but desperation.
"You acted weak at first…" he snarled through clenched teeth. "But you're a monster. You lured us in here—planned it all!"
His eyes flicked to Selene, wide and shining with obsession.
"Don't worry, Selene—I'll protect you," he said, trying to sound noble through the hysteria. "I'll slay this thing before he turns on you too!"
Selene didn't respond. She merely stared at him, face unreadable.
Alaric raised his voice again, louder—screaming to the cavern walls, to the dead around them, to himself:
"Yes! That's right! I, the Hero of Justice, shall slay you, monster!"
Noa blinked, a faint crease forming on his brow.
"…What in the actual fuck are you saying?"
With a roar, Alaric launched forward, magic flaring across his blade.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Well, Noa thought, easily sidestepping the wild swing, he's completely lost it.
"Selene! Help me!" Alaric shouted desperately. "Let's slay this monster together!"
He spun, swinging again in a wide arc, but Noa ducked under it without breaking a sweat.
"STOP DODGING AND FACE MY BLADE!"
"Just stop, man," Noa sighed, half-laughing. "You're making even me embarrassed."
Noa straightened, sighing through his nose, his voice laced with annoyance and disbelief.
"Okay, I may have acted weak, sure. But what the hell does that have to do with me killing your little harem?" He cocked his head. "You're not making any sense, man."
Alaric's face twisted with hatred.
"DIEEEEEEE!"
Noa's smile vanished.
One clean motion. His blade whispered through the air.
SHUNK.
Alaric's head flew from his shoulders, twisting once before it hit the stone floor with a wet thud. His body collapsed a moment later, twitching once before going still.
Again, silence fell like a heavy shroud over the room
Selene stepped forward, unfazed. Her sword hung loosely at her side, her golden eyes fixed on Noa.
"Now answer my question earlier," she said coldly. "Do you feel tired… or suicidal thoughts when you use that sword?"
Noa, still staring at Alaric's body, shook his head slowly.
"No. Actually… I don't feel anything."
Selene's gaze sharpened.
"I see… then it's already too late. The sword has bound itself to you."
Her voice dropped, a touch more grave.
"It will corrupt you over time. Eventually, you'll lose your humanity."
Noa turned to her with a dry chuckle.
"Corrupt me? I just said I don't feel anything when I use it."
Selene didn't flinch.
"Really?" she asked. "Then tell me—how did it feel, killing that human?"
Noa opened his mouth. Closed it. His eyes drifted back to the headless corpse.
Now that I think about it… that was my first time killing a human, and… I kind of liked it.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Selene's eyes didn't waver. "See?" she said, voice low.
Noa exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly with a faint grin.
"Yeah, yeah. Who cares." He wiped the blood from his blade with one motion, sheathing it."I'm not a saint to begin with."
Selene studied him in silence for a moment longer. Then finally, she lowered her sword.
"Good," she muttered. "Makes this easier."
"What?"
"Nothing," Selene said quickly, turning on her heel.
She walked past Noa without another word, approaching the only one still alive and trembling—Lyra, the priest girl, now a shattered shell of her former cheer. She sat crumpled on the floor, knees hugged to her chest, eyes wide with terror, tears streaking her cheeks.
Selene raised her blade without hesitation.
But before it could fall—
"Wait."
Noa stepped in between them, palm casually pushing Selene's sword aside.
She narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing?"
"Curious," Noa said, kneeling in front of the broken girl. His voice softened, almost gentle. "Hey… what kind of affinity do you have?"
Lyra hiccupped through her sobs, barely able to speak. "L-L-Light…"
Noa smiled faintly. "Huh… figured."
He gently reached up and patted her head, comforting—like an older brother calming a frightened child.
Then, with his other hand, he plunged his fingers into her chest, bypassing her ribs with brutal precision and piercing her heart. Her body went limp instantly, collapsing against him in silence.
He let her slide to the floor, then stood up, brushing off his hands like he just finished peeling a fruit.
"Status."
Name: Noa Itsuki
Level: 104
Class: —
Strength: 211
Speed: 265
Agility: 177
Stamina: 206
Endurance: 338
Active Skills:
•[Crown of Dread] – Opponents below your level feel unexplainable unease and creeping fear when they meet your gaze.
Passive Skills:
• [Devour] – Increased chance of acquiring skills from defeated enemies.
• [Demonic Vitality] – Passive regeneration over time
• [Whispers of the Void] – Small chance to resist death or madness effects.
• [Night Vision] – See clearly in darkness.
Elemental Affinity: —
Noa sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Oh come on. How hard is it to awaken an affinity."
Selene, who had turned away, gave a quiet cough—but her shoulders twitched ever so slightly.
He narrowed his eyes. "Are you… laughing?"
"No," she said, lips twitching. "Absolutely not."
Noa pointed at her like a child tattling to a teacher.
"Stop laughing!"