Author's Note: Do Not Unlock Yet. Chapter Is Still Under Construction.

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The words hung heavy in the air.

August stared at him, torn between reason and loyalty. Derrick wasn't just an employee; he was his closest friend — a man who had stood beside him through countless operations, both legal and otherwise. He'd bled for AM Coven.

And he was right about one thing: the world was changing. The boundaries between game and reality were thinner than ever.

If the Oni or any of the corrupted forces came for them again, power might be the only defense left.

Finally, August sighed. "Alright. But we'll do this carefully. I'll set up a controlled pod at the Coven — not your home rig. I'll start you on basic synchronization protocols and mana sensitivity."

Derrick's eyes lit up. "So… you'll really do it?"

"Yeah," August said, standing. "But understand something — once you start down this path, there's no turning back. Enders Light isn't just a game anymore. It's alive. And it remembers everyone who steps into it."

Derrick grinned, extending his unbandaged hand. "Then let's make sure it remembers me."

August shook his hand, his expression unreadable. Behind the calm surface of his eyes, he could feel the faint pull of fate again — that strange, familiar whisper of the world between worlds.

He could only hope he wasn't about to open another door that couldn't be closed.

---sss

The crimson dome above the arena shimmered like a living sky, flickering with runes of ancient magic. This was Batch 7 — the "Slaughter Ring," as spectators had come to call it. Only fifty players had been thrown into this deadly pit, and forty-six of them had already fallen.

Now, the world watched the remaining four.

The tension was so thick that even the audience in the distant spectator stands — holographically linked across kingdoms — held their breath.

On the floating screens above, the names burned in golden letters:

Taro the Phantom Blade – Lv.49 Assassin

Saphira Windsong – Lv.50 Magical Swordsman

Kael Nightbane – Lv.52 Berserker

Aleman – Lv.45 Dual-Class Mage/Assassin

A roar erupted across the viewing kingdoms. The audience knew these names — each of them had appeared on world announcements before. They were veterans of the Chaos Wars, dueling legends, and champions of their own domains.

And yet, here they were — facing one another in the final minutes of Batch 7.

The circular battleground stretched across floating stone platforms suspended over an endless abyss. Each platform was unstable — shifting, crumbling, reforming. The arena's enchantment ensured no one could camp or hide for long.

It was a battlefield made for movement, precision, and terror.

---

Taro stood at one edge of a collapsing platform, blades humming faintly with black mist. His entire form flickered like smoke — the hallmark of Shadow Veil, the assassin's ultimate stealth ability.

Saphira Windsong, dressed in a crystalline silver armor that shimmered like starlight, had her blade drawn, its edge glowing blue with frost mana. She stood poised, breathing slowly, calculating.

Kael Nightbane was the polar opposite — a walking storm of fury. His massive greataxe dripped with molten enchantments, and cracks of scarlet lightning trailed behind him as his Berserker Rage kept him burning.

And then there was Aleman.

He stood in the center, his dual daggers spinning idly between his fingers while his left hand pulsed with raw magical energy — faint traces of arcane circuits flickering beneath his skin. He wasn't the highest-level player here, but what he lacked in levels, he made up for in cunning.

---

"Three monsters and one trickster," Aleman muttered under his breath, smirking. "Just my luck."

The announcer's voice boomed across the arena.

"FINAL ROUND — BEGIN!"

---

The moment the horn sounded, Kael charged.

The air split as the berserker shot forward, using Titan Rush. Each step shattered the platform beneath his boots. "COME ON!" he bellowed, swinging the axe in a wide arc that sent a shockwave tearing through the air.

Aleman dodged with Phase Step, vanishing in a blur of violet mist just as the axe struck — the impact splitting the platform into chunks that spiraled into the abyss.

Before Kael could follow up, a streak of blue light sliced between them — Saphira had joined the fray, her sword trailing frost petals as she unleashed Windsong Art: Crescent Waltz.

Kael's axe met her blade mid-swing, and a blinding spark burst between them. The explosion threw both fighters back, the shockwave cracking nearby platforms.

Aleman landed on another fragment of rock, crouched low, scanning for Taro. He knew better than to think the assassin would show himself this early.

"You're watching, aren't you…" Aleman whispered, narrowing his eyes. "Come on out."

He weaved a quick set of runes with his left hand. Arcane Echo: Distortion Field.

A dome of hazy mana rippled around him — a spell that distorted sound and light.

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then—

A whisper of air.

A blur of motion behind him.

Aleman twisted, daggers flashing. His right blade met cold steel, and sparks flew. Taro materialized behind him, black mask hiding his grin.

"Too slow," Taro hissed.

But Aleman's left hand shot forward. "Maybe. But I don't need to hit you — just need to see you."

Arcane Pulse!

A concussive burst erupted from his palm, launching Taro backward across the platform. The assassin barely recovered midair, stabbing one blade into the ground to stop himself from sliding off the edge.

"Dual-class bastard," Taro growled. "You're not even supposed to have mage skills that strong."

"Guess the devs like me better," Aleman shot back, smirking.

---

Meanwhile, Saphira and Kael's clash had reached cataclysmic levels. Her sword was a blur, each swing leaving frost trails that burst into sharp spears midair. Kael met her fury head-on, his axe glowing red-hot, cutting through ice with sheer brute force.

"You're slowing down, Windsong!" Kael roared.

"No," she replied coolly. "You're heating up."

He frowned — then realized the frost was spreading up his arm. Every time her blade connected, even slightly, she was stacking a debuff.

Before Kael could break free, she twirled her sword, chanting: "Frozen Waltz, Third Verse — Glacial Execution!"

A giant ice flower bloomed beneath Kael's feet, freezing him mid-swing.

For a moment, the crowd went silent.

Then — a deafening roar as Kael shattered the ice in a burst of crimson flame.

"Nice try!" he shouted. "But I don't freeze easy!"

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