The Black Talon members, who had been jeering and celebrating just moments ago, suddenly hesitated.
They couldn’t explain it—
But something about the way Kei said that word sent a chill up their spines.
Even Orin stiffened slightly, though he didn’t loosen his grip.
"What?" he sneered, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping into his bones.
Kei didn't answer.
Instead—
He moved.
And for the first time since the fight began—
Orin felt like he had made a mistake.
[Skill Name]: Tempest Convergence
[Description]:
Harnesses wind currents and external Aether flow, allowing the user to momentarily merge with natural storm phenomena, enhancing movement speed, agility, and environmental adaptability.
[Additional Effect]:
- When utilized in combat, this skill amplifies projectile-based attacks, increasing their precision, speed, and impact force depending on surrounding wind conditions.
Kei darted backward, the wind whispering around him—then roaring as it carried him away.
To everyone watching, it was like he had vanished.
He simply wasn’t there anymore.
Orin’s eyes snapped around, his instincts screaming that something was wrong.
"Where did he—?"
Owen’s breath caught in his throat.
He hadn’t seen it.
He hadn’t even felt the moment Kei moved.
One second he was standing there.
The next—
Gone.
And then—
The wind howled.
It wasn’t just noise.
It carried something—something unnatural.
Something intentional.
For a moment, Orin lost all sense of Kei’s presence.
No matter where he looked, no matter how hard he focused, Kei wasn’t there.
Then—
A forceful gust pressed against his wrist.
A warning.
Orin’s eyes widened.
“Four.”
Bang!
"ARGHHH!"
A sharp cry tore from Orin’s throat as pain exploded in his wrist.
His greatsword slipped from his fingers, hitting the ground with a heavy clang.
His gaze snapped downward.
Blood.
Pooling.
Embedded deep in his wrist—a white projectile.
A bone projectile.
Kei’s friends watched in stunned silence.
Eyes wide.
Mouths slightly agape.
Not because Kei had landed an attack—
But because of what they just saw.
Or rather—
What they didn’t see.
To them, Kei had simply jumped backward.
And yet—
When he threw the projectile—
Orin’s eyes had passed over Kei multiple times.
But it was as if he never registered him.
Orin reeled, his wrist throbbing.
But before he could process the pain—
He felt it again.
The wind.
Pressing against his left shoulder.
By now, he realized—
It was a warning.
A signal for where Kei was about to strike.
"Three."
Orin reacted immediately.
He threw himself to the side, hoping to dodge.
Bang!
Pain.
Again.
"Arrghhh!"
Orin gasped, certain he had dodged.
Certain the moment he heard Kei’s voice, he had moved fast enough.
And yet—
The projectile still found him.
His left shoulder throbbed, another bone projectile lodged deep into his flesh.
He couldn’t understand.
How?
He was fast.
He had reacted immediately.
And yet—
Kei still hit him.
Kai, watching from the sidelines, shuddered.
The air felt thick. Heavy.
As if Kei’s mere presence was pressing down on them.
He forced himself to swallow.
"It looks like Kei is playing with him…" Kai muttered, voice quiet.
"Like he's trying to cause mental torture."
He shivered.
Even though he wasn’t the enemy—
Even though Kei wasn’t aiming at him—
A feeling of dread crawled up his spine.
He didn’t dare move.
Because for the first time—
He genuinely wasn’t sure if Kei would stop.
The Black Talon members panicked as they watched their leader get injured.
Their earlier cheers had turned into shouts of desperation.
"Stop hiding, you coward!"
"You're only capable of these cheap tricks! If you're a man, stop hiding!"
Then—
"One."
Bang.
Bang.
The two who had just spoken suddenly felt something pierce their kneecaps.
Sharp. Deep.
Their bodies collapsed, falling to their knees—
Burying the projectiles even deeper into their joints.
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An agony unlike anything they had ever felt surged through their bodies.
Their knees throbbed, twisted, and refused to bend properly.
Their breath came in ragged gasps, the pain overwhelming.
But just as their minds processed the injury—
Kei appeared behind them.
As if he had always been there.
His broken beginner sword in hand.
The other Black Talon members saw him—
Their eyes widened in horror.
"Wai—"
Slash.
Slash.
Two clean, effortless cuts.
Their Achilles tendons severed.
A pain far worse than the knee injuries coursed through their bodies, sending them crashing face-first into the dirt.
A brutal realization sank in.
Unless they used their first life—
Unless they chose to reset—
They would never walk again.
Orin watched it all unfold.
He watched as Kei moved behind his members.
Watched as their screams filled the air.
Watched as Kei walked forward casually, as if he had never disappeared in the first place.
As if he had been there the whole time.
His presence was suffocating.
The air felt thicker.
He couldn't understand what was happening.
His breath caught in his throat.
His thoughts spiraled into chaos.
"What the hell is happening?" he shouted in his mind, a frantic panic creeping into his chest.
Then—
Kei’s voice broke through the suffocating silence.
Cold.
Emotionless.
"You better thank these two."
He slowly turned his burning orange gaze back to Orin.
"Now I have less projectiles to torture you with."
A shiver crawled down Orin’s spine.
For the first time—
Orin felt afraid.
For the first time in this fight, for the first time since arriving in this world—
He felt genuine, soul-crushing fear.
But he couldn’t afford to show it.
He forced himself to stand.
He tried to breathe past the tightness in his chest, past the way his body screamed at him to run.
Then—
Kei’s voice cut through the air, flat and empty.
"Weren’t you so proud of your sword just now?"
Orin’s fingers twitched.
"You said you’d kill me and treat it like a comedy."
His legs wobbled slightly as he tried to ground himself.
Kei’s gaze bore into him, unblinking.
Mocking. Measuring. Judging.
Letting his rationality take over, Orin forced himself upright, his feet shifting toward his fallen sword.
His right wrist throbbed, the bone projectile still embedded.
His left shoulder screamed in protest, barely allowing his arm to function properly.
But still—
He needed his sword.
He lunged for it—
"Your legs still seem to be working."
Kei’s words froze him mid-movement.
"Don’t tell me you don’t know how to throw a kick with all that talking you were doing."
Orin’s breathing grew heavier.
Kei didn’t move.
Didn’t rush him.
He just watched.
Waiting.
Daring.
"Why don’t you use those skills you’re so proud of?"
Kei tilted his head, eyes still glowing that unnatural, burning orange.
"Your mouth still works. Can’t you use them?"
Orin’s jaw clenched.
Mockery.
It was mockery.
But not the kind meant to provoke a fight.
This was different.
This was a condemnation.
A judgment being passed down.
Kei’s tone didn’t carry anger.
Didn’t carry rage.
It was just cold. Unfeeling.
"So pathetic."
The words felt like nails hammered into Orin’s pride.
"You’ve been here for so long, thinking you were strong."
Kei’s fingers tightened around the bone projectiles in his hand.
"You named your group after your Pale Hand skill."
"You taunted others, thinking your Gravebind was invincible."
"You paraded your strength like it meant something."
Orin’s body shook.
From the growing weight in the air.
Then—
Kei’s voice dropped to a whisper.
Soft.
Barely audible.
"And after all of that…"
The world responded.
The wind died.
The air thinned.
The temperature plummeted.
So cold—
That everyone's breath became visible.
The Black Talon members shuddered violently, clutching themselves from the unnatural drop in warmth.
Owen, Kai, Talia, and Reese felt every hair on their bodies stand on end.
Like prey caught in the eyes of a predator.
Like they weren’t supposed to be here witnessing this.
Orin’s knees buckled slightly.
He couldn’t look away.
Kei’s glowing orange gaze pierced through him.
Empty.
Hollow.
And yet—
So full of something he couldn't understand.
Then—
Kei spoke again.
Quiet. Weak.
But unmistakable.
"A trash excuse for life… dares to steal my Aether away from me… and make it cry?"
Orin’s blood ran cold.
There was no hatred in those words.
Just a simple—
Undeniable.
Statement.
The weight in Orin’s chest grew unbearable.
His heart pounded.
His breathing hitched.
And for the first time—
He felt like he was going to die.
Then he felt it again.
The wind pressed against him.
Like a phantom touch, unseen hands pressing into his body.
A firm weight against his wrists.
A whisper against his ribs.
A pressure at his throat.
Warnings.
Orin sucked in a breath.
Kei wasn’t attacking.
Not yet.
But the wind told him exactly where the next strikes would land.
It was taunting him.
A silent promise.
The next move was already decided.
Orin looked down.
His gaze locked onto Kei’s hands.
One projectile.
Only one left.
The realization sank in.
Kei was playing with him.
This wasn’t a fight.
It was an execution drawn out for amusement.
And that—
That alone crushed him.
The contrast between Kei’s casual, teasing nature and the calculated way he was pressing into his mind was unbearable.
It was as if he was watching two completely different people at once.
One part lighthearted, almost playful.
The other—
Emotionless.
A face devoid of any warmth, any humanity.
To Kei, Orin wasn’t an opponent.
He was a toy.
Something to play with, to pull apart piece by piece.
Orin’s breathing came short.
His legs stiffened.
His body locked up.
Anyone watching him could tell—
He was breaking.
Kei’s friends said nothing.
They had been worried Kei would lose control.
But now—
Now they just pitied Orin.
This wasn’t a battle anymore.
It was a slow, deliberate dismantling.
And then—
A thought clicked in Orin’s mind.
The ones who started this.
His own members.
The ones who had lied.
The ones who had claimed the equipment and materials were donated to them.
And him?
He had blindly believed them.
Had foolishly thought himself in control.
Had questioned Kei’s strength.
Had mocked him.
Had threatened his life.
That was…
Funny.
No.
Hilarious.
His body still trembling, his blood still dripping onto the ground—
Orin threw his head back—
And laughed.
Hysterically.
Kei’s eyes narrowed.
He stood still, his expression unreadable—
Then, without a single motion, the wind answered his command.
Zephyr Wind surged.
The air compressed, sharpened, condensed into invisible blades that sliced through Orin’s body relentlessly.
Not in a single devastating strike.
Not to end it quickly.
But in small, precise cuts.
Bit by bit.
Orin’s body bled, his already dwindling HP ticking down further.
And yet—
His laughter only grew louder.
More unhinged.
More broken.
He wasn’t even mad at Kei.
He was mad at himself.
Because now—
Even he had to agree.
Had someone tried to take what was his—
Had someone mocked his strength—
Had someone looked down on him—
He would have done the same.
He would have destroyed them.
He would have erased them from existence.
So—
How could he blame Kei?
It was his own arrogance.
His own blindness.
His own downfall.
With the last of his sanity, he activated Death’s Breath.
A thick, decaying mist erupted from his mouth—
But not toward Kei.
Not toward his opponent.
But toward—
His own people.
"Wait—what are you doing?!"
"Please, no! Don’t do this!"
Panic.
Screams.
His own members’ faces twisted in horror as the mist engulfed them.
Their skin corroded.
Their armor rusted, cracking apart.
Their bodies decayed before their very eyes.
And for the first time since this started—
Orin felt at peace.
Watching their terror.
Watching their pain.
Watching them suffer.
It brought him pleasure.
"Consider this your expulsion from the group."
Orin grinned through the pain, his voice still laced with hysterical amusement as he watched his own members writhe and decay.
"And pray I never see you again—"
His eyes burned with cruelty.
"Or I'll make you walking skeletons."
His twisted laughter echoed, his body trembling from the sheer madness consuming him.
Kei wasn't amused.
He wasn't even watching.
With calm, steady steps, he walked toward Orin, his presence cold and unyielding.
Orin, still kneeling on the ground, barely noticed until Kei was right in front of him.
Then—
Kei spoke.
Flat.
Emotionless.
"In your next life, whether it be in this expanse… or our world…"
Kei’s gaze met his.
"Pray you have better judgment."
Orin’s laughter died.
Abruptly.
As if the very words had ripped the air from his lungs.
His mind scrambled.
Trying to process.
Trying to understand.
Then—
It clicked."Next life… from this expanse… from our world?"
His body froze.
His pupils shrank.
Kei wasn't just talking about killing him here.
He was promising him a permanent death.
A death beyond the free life granted by the system.
A death that meant—
No return.
No second chances.
No resurrection.
Kei didn’t give him time to react.
With one swift motion, he shoved his hand into Orin’s mouth.
The Black Talon leader barely had time to register the sensation before—
"Zero."
Kei’s muscles tensed.
A forceful, brutal tug downward.
Flesh tore.
Bone cracked.
A sickening rip.
Kei ripped Orin’s lower jaw clean from his skull.
Orin choked.
Or he would have.
If his deformed, mutilated head could still make a sound.
His body convulsed, blood pouring down his exposed throat, his eyes rolling back in horror.
His mind still understood what was happening.
But his body was already failing him.
His vision blurred.
The last thing he saw—
Was Kei.
Kei never looked back.
Never once acknowledged the enraged voice behind him.
As if Orin had already ceased to exist.
Then—
Bang.
A deafening crack split through the air.
Kei fired behind him.
A bone projectile cut through the wind, slicing toward the unseen threat with terrifying speed—
Clang!
The air shook as the projectile was intercepted mid-flight, colliding against an unseen force.
A blade.
A hurried figure, breathing heavily from an obvious full-speed sprint, had arrived just in time.
His sword recoiled violently, the impact from Kei’s projectile far heavier than expected.
The force rattled his arm, sending a sting up his wrist.
He had barely stopped it.
But before he could recover—
He saw it.
The scene before him.
Orin.
A mangled husk of a man, twitching, his jaw missing, his body leaking blood.
His own Black Talon members, rotting where they stood, their decayed screams still frozen in the air.
The suffocating weight of death still clung to the battlefield.
And Kei.
Standing calmly amidst it all.
Expression blank.
Eyes burning.
As if none of this mattered.
His presence was still.
And unshaken.
Then—
The figure moved.
Aether rushed to his blade.
A silent crescent slash tore through the air.
[Skill Name]: Phantom Crescent]
[Description]:
Harnessing the essence of Lunar Edge Force, this technique allows the user to unleash an invisible crescent-shaped slash from their blade. The attack travels silently, blending into the shadows, making it impossible to see or predict. The Phantom Crescent cuts before an opponent even realizes an attack has been launched.
[Effects]:
- Unseen Blade – The crescent slash is nearly imperceptible, blending into darkness and shadows, making it hard for enemies to react.
- Silent Execution – The attack makes no sound as it travels, preventing opponents from hearing its approach.
- Moonlit Precision – If used under moonlight or in dimly lit environments, the crescent's speed and sharpness increase by 20%.
- Shadow Rift – If an opponent is unaware of the incoming strike, the Phantom Crescent can pass through multiple targets, dealing reduced damage after the first hit.
- Aether Infusion – By charging more Aether, the crescent can curve mid-air, allowing for unpredictable angles of attack.
The silent slash raced forward, invisible to the naked eye.
It should have been impossible to react to.
But—
The wind shifted.
Kei tilted his body ever so slightly.
And the Phantom Crescent passed mere inches from his form, dispersing harmlessly.
Before the figure had time to react—
He moved again.
His body flickered.
Closing the distance in an instant.
[Skill Name]: Crescent Step]
[Description]:
A movement skill unique to those wielding Lunar Force, allowing for sudden burst movements and seamless repositioning mid-combat.
[Effects]:
- Allows an instant short-range dash up to 5 meters with no delay.
- Can be chained up to three times before a cooldown period.
- Lunar Force reduces the cooldown based on Aether infused.
His form blurred forward.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
His Aether burned, but he didn’t care.
His blade was raised.
His breath was ragged.
His mind screamed—
Stop this.
Before it went any further.
Before he saw something he couldn't take back.
His blade flashed—
The moment before he struck—
Kei’s gaze met his.
Not alarmed.
Not surprised.
Just… bored.
As if he’d already decided this wasn’t a threat.
Then—
He spoke.
Flat.
Emotionless.
"Who the hell are you?"
The figure froze mid-strike.
For a single second—
Just a single second—
His brain lagged.
And then—
His rage exploded.
"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?!"
Yelled Kaito Ren.