CHAPTER 266: CHAPTER 266: SIX SECONDS

The clash of steel and the roar of the crowd blurred into background noise as Noel tightened his grip on Revenant Fang. His breath came steady but deliberate, every sense locked on the dwarf’s erratic movements. The black mark on the opponent’s neck pulsed faster, its dark veins spreading like ink under skin.

Noel shifted to his right, ready to intercept the next charge—then, for a reason he couldn’t explain, his gaze flicked upward.

High above, in the directors’ balcony, Torwan was watching him. The man sat with one leg crossed, posture casual, and a smile curved lazily across his face. It wasn’t the smugness of a man enjoying a good fight—it was the certainty of someone who already knew the ending.

That heartbeat of distraction was all it took.

The dwarf exploded forward with a speed that shredded the air. Noel turned too late—

BANG!

The axe connected with the side of his head. Pain flared white-hot before the world simply... stopped. The noise of the arena faded into nothing. His body felt weightless, suspended in an endless void.

Somewhere in that silence, a cold pulse throbbed against his finger.

[Ashen Sigil – Reverse Protocol engaged]

Time snapped backward. The world rewound in a blur—six seconds in reverse—until Noel stood exactly where he had been before glancing up at Torwan.

The dwarf was still mid-charge, frozen in that split-second before impact. But now, another pulse answered from the weapon in Noel’s hand.

Revenant Fang’s presence flooded his mind.

[Harrowed Focus]

The world slowed to a crawl. Each droplet of sweat on the dwarf’s forehead drifted downward like molten glass. Every motion became exaggerated, every sound muffled, save for the deep, steady beat of Noel’s own heart.

His breathing slowed, control absolute.

’One month before I can use this ring again... and I won’t waste it.’

Noel’s stance shifted instantly, knees bending, blade angling to intercept. Sparks of lightning began crawling along Revenant Fang’s edge.

He moved before the dwarf even had the chance to blink.

The dwarf’s axe ripped through the air where Noel’s head had been a heartbeat earlier. Noel had already slipped to the side, his movements unnaturally smooth under the sharpened awareness of Harrowed Focus. The world still moved sluggishly in his eyes—every twitch, every breath, every shift in balance from his opponent laid bare before him.

[Ashen Sigil – Cooldown: 30 Days]

One month before he could use it again. One month without a second chance.

The dwarf’s head jerked toward him, veins darkening, the black mark at his neck glowing faintly. His lips trembled, words slipping through ragged breaths.

"R-run... please... I... can’t stop..."

Noel’s jaw tightened. ’This is not good...’ His gaze flicked for half a second toward Torwan in the balcony—still smiling, still watching.

The dwarf lunged again. Noel raised his left hand. "Glacialis!"

A shard of pure ice tore through the air, slamming into the dwarf’s thigh and frosting over the armor plate instantly. It slowed him for half a step—just enough for Noel to pivot in, his right hand gripping Revenant Fang.

"Ignition Surge!"

Flames roared along the blade’s length, bathing the steel in heat and light. Noel struck once, forcing the dwarf’s weapon high, and followed with a short, brutal slash toward the ribs. Sparks and embers exploded as steel met steel.

The dwarf snarled and tried to counter, but Noel was already moving. "Voltage Needle!"

A thin spear of lightning snapped out from his free hand, striking the dwarf square in the shoulder. The jolt forced his grip to falter for an instant, the smell of ozone filling the air.

’He’s too strong to wear down slowly... I need something that will break through in one go.’

Lightning began crawling faster up Noel’s arms, arcs jumping between his armor plates and Revenant Fang’s edge. The sluggishness of the world started to fade as his focus locked into one killing line.

He bent his knees, weight shifting forward. "Stormpiercer."

The world flashed white as Noel shot forward, Revenant Fang cutting a searing line through the air. The impact sent the dwarf tumbling backward, armor sparking and denting under the strike. But when the dust cleared, he was still moving—jerky, unnatural, the mark on his neck pulsing like a heartbeat.

He came again, faster than before. Noel’s grip tightened. ’If I keep matching him blow for blow, I’ll run out of space...’

"Noir."

From his shadow, the great wolf emerged—black fur with faint purple accents, eyes like twin shards of night. Without hesitation, Noir opened her jaws, and darkness poured out in thick waves.

In seconds, the entire arena was drowned in shadow. From the stands, the crowd could see nothing—just a swirling mass of black that even light spells couldn’t pierce. The defensive barrier shimmered faintly, containing the darkness inside.

Inside the shadow, the air was cold, the sound muffled. The dwarf staggered, swinging blindly, his axe cutting only empty air. His breathing grew heavier as panic began to take root.

Noel took three steps back, planting his feet. His right hand tightened on Revenant Fang while his left hovered open, palm forward. Mana gathered there—dense, heavy, scorching.

"Dark Sun."

The air around him warped as a sphere of hyper-compressed black fire began to form, sucking in heat and light alike. Sparks of red and gold twisted inside the darkness, the mana density so intense that the stone beneath his boots began to crack.

The dwarf’s head whipped around, as if sensing something, but he couldn’t find Noel in the all-consuming black.

Noel’s heartbeat slowed. Thirty seconds felt like forever inside Noir’s veil, and every one of them was his.

When the sphere reached its limit, Noel raised it high, his voice low but final.

The shadows themselves seemed to pull toward the orb in his hand.

Dark Sun streaked through the pitch of Noir’s shadow like a falling star. The dwarf barely had time to turn before the sphere struck his chest.

There was no explosion—only a sudden, crushing implosion. The air ripped inward, heat and force devouring everything in a tight radius. A muffled whump echoed through the arena, followed by silence.

When the darkness around them began to thin, Noel stood over the dwarf’s collapsed form. The armor was warped, the mark on his neck burned into nothing, and his chest bore a blackened hole where Dark Sun had consumed him. The faint smell of scorched metal and flesh clung to the air.

Noel exhaled slowly, the weight of what he’d done pressing into his chest. ’He wasn’t my enemy... Fuck!!! He was innocent...’

He reached into his dimensional pouch and pulled free a silver disk etched with intricate runes—the Recall Sigil.

A pulse of blue light flared, and Nicolas von Aldros appeared within the arena. His sharp eyes swept over Noel, then the dwarf’s body, and his expression darkened. Without a single word, Nicolas understood the severity of the situation. He placed one hand on the fallen dwarf, and the two vanished in a swirl of azure light.

Noel’s knees buckled the moment they were gone. He sank to the floor, breath ragged, vision dimming.

From the edge of his consciousness, he pulled one last item from his dimensional pouch hidden inside his pants—the Veilweaver’s Charm—and pressed it into Noir’s muzzle. The wolf’s eyes glimmered in understanding.

Noir shifted, her form rippling and twisting until she was the perfect image of the dwarf moments before his death, her fur now mimicking a defeated dwarf. She staggered once and let herself fall onto the stone, feigning unconsciousness.

The shadows receded fully, revealing the arena to the roaring crowd once more.

From the stands, the announcer’s voice rang out, confident and clear:

"Victory goes to Noel Thorne, of the Imperial Academy of Valor!"

Cheers erupted, the audience oblivious to the truth.

High above, Torwan leaned back in his seat, still smiling—but his eyes, sharp and glinting, never left Noel’s motionless form on the ground.