Balance? Honor?

  Between light and darkness? The opposing forces that are, forever at odds?

  His features darkened, yet he remained composed, neither yielding to anger nor emotion. After all, he had endured the struggle and understood its weight.

  The only balance he had experienced between the light and the darkness was in their recognition because he understood them both—equally, without bias. Having borne witness to their essence firsthand, he was able to grasp their true nature.

  How could the light, which utters of endless opportunities he felt only for a brief moment, be equal to the darkness, which inflicted upon him and ate away at his own sanity for as long as he could remember?

  It was an undeniable truth—for the light to exist absolutely, it had to diminish the darkness, and for the darkness to prevail endlessly, it had to consume the light.

  As for the latter, there was indeed honor in the struggle between the light and the darkness, and even he agreed upon it.

  But all of that was not what his opponent had intended—it was all him. His enemy desired nothing but his complete devastation.

  Still, even now, standing before his opponent, that honor felt fragile.

  His opponent surpassed him in every possible way—strength, speed, experience.

  He already knew this. But now, he felt it. And yet, he had to fight.

  A familiar despair slithered through his mind, creeping in like a slow poison. The same suffocating weight that had always surfaced whenever he hit an unbreakable wall.

  His body knew it well. His mind had suffered it before. The doubt, the fear, the memories of pain and solitude clawing their way back from the past.

  After everything I had to suffer, I am still stuc—No. I don’t have time for this. All of this is below me now. I must surpass my limits.

  His hands tightened into fists, his knuckles white.

  If he kept letting himself be consumed by doubt and his past, he would never move forward.

  The only role the past will play in my life is as a teacher of its lessons.

  Now, I must purify myself of who I once was and become who I choose to be.

  My heart shall shine ever brighter for eternity.

  His mind had already taken in everything within a fleeting moment, perhaps due to the sharpness of his skill.

  Amidst the chaos, he closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and felt his heartbeat beneath the noise. And in that brief instant of peace, he whispered words meant for no one but himself.

  And then, he was ready.

  David lifted his blade, its surface gleaming with an icy blue hue as frost crawled along its edge. A mist, thick and chilling, unfurled around it in smoky tendrils, twisting through the air.

  But despite its frigid presence, he knew—it wasn’t enough. This cold, no matter how sharp, would never be enough to smother the relentless inferno of Azrikal’s power.

  He had already coated the blade with his darkness, yet it had failed to make a fatal dent. A different approach was necessary.

  A thought crossed his mind. Perhaps the system could help.

  "System, can I upgrade this blade using system units?" he asked, his tone even but laced with urgency.

  A moment later, several glowing windows burst into existence before him.

  ? ? ? ONLY ITEMS DESIGNED FOR UPGRADES CAN BE ENHANCED ? ? ?

  ? ? ? THIS BLADE DOES NOT MEET THE REQUIRED CRITERIA ? ? ?

  ? ? ? UPGRADE IS NOT POSSIBLE ? ? ?

  David clicked his tongue in irritation. So much for that idea.

  Before he could dwell on his disappointment, another set of notifications appeared in quick succession.

  ? ? ? HOWEVER, THE BLADE POSSESSES A LATENT ABILITY ? ? ?

  ? ? ? WHEN INFUSED WITH MANA, ITS CHILL EFFECT WILL AMPLIFY BEYOND NORMAL LIMITS ? ? ?

  David’s eyes flickered with renewed interest. So it can’t be upgraded, but I can push its effect further with mana?

  Azrikal, who had been watching David with growing impatience, finally spoke, his voice carrying a taunting edge.

  "What’s wrong? You seem... uncertain." Azrikal spread his arms wide, flames licking along his fingers. "Are you stalling? Or have you finally realized the futility of standing against me?"

  David let out a low breath, schooling his expression into something unreadable.

  "Stalling?" he repeated, tilting his head. "No, just giving you a fighting chance. Wouldn’t want this to end too quickly, after all."

  Azrikal narrowed his eyes, but this time, he didn't lose his composure. He was done waiting.

  A shift in the atmosphere sent a sharp spike of heat through the battlefield. The ground beneath Azrikal’s feet glowed red-hot, fissures forming as molten embers crackled within.

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  David’s eyes flickered toward his blade. There was no time to hesitate. Gripping his sword tightly, he let his mana flow into the blade. The moment his energy surged into the weapon, something changed.

  STATUS

  HP : ????? 23?

  DEFENSE : ????? 2?1

  MANA : ????? 222

  The ice along the blade's edge thickened, deepening to a shade of blue so dark it was nearly black.

  The mist that curled from it grew denser, twisting violently, and the cold it emitted turned sharp—biting, invasive, unnatural.

  Azrikal tilted his head, intrigued. "So, you finally decided to take this seriously." He smirked, the infernal glow in his eyes flaring. "Good. It would’ve been disappointing otherwise."

  And then, he moved.

  Azrikal closed the distance in an instant, his abyssal flames surging forth like a relentless tide. He swung his blade in a brutal arc, the black fire streaking through the air like a crescent of annihilation.

  David barely raised his weapon in time, the impact sending a violent shockwave outward. His feet skidded against the scorched ground, his arms rattling from the sheer force behind the attack.

  Before he could regain balance, Azrikal followed up with his molten fist. He lunged forward, thrusting it toward David’s torso like a hammer of destruction. The air around it shimmered from the sheer heat.

  David twisted his body, barely evading the direct strike. But even with the dodge, the radiating heat seared into his side. His skin burned under his clothes, pain lancing through him. He clenched his jaw, refusing to let out a sound.

  Azrikal didn’t stop. He spun, bringing his abyssal blade down once more. This time, David had no choice but to block head-on.

  The clash sent an eruption of embers and frost into the air, fire and ice battling for dominance. But Azrikal's raw strength won out.

  David was sent flying backward, slamming into the ground, leaving a trail of frost and scorched earth in his wake.

  STATUS

  HP : ????? 2?1

  DEFENSE : ????? 21?

  MANA : ????? 2??

  David exhaled sharply, pushing himself up with his blade as support. He steadied himself, eyes locking onto Azrikal, who stood tall, victorious—too soon.

  Without hesitation, David channeled more mana into his blade, and the cold intensified. The mist thickened into an ice-laden storm, spiraling violently around him. He kicked off the ground, closing the distance between them in a blur.

  Azrikal was ready for David’s strike when his blade swung upward, slashing toward his ribs. Azrikal dodged, but the chilling mist lashed out, grazing his exposed arm.

  A layer of frost spread instantly across his skin, cracking as soon as it formed against the heat of his molten veins.

  Then, David saw his opening. He feinted left before twisting right, driving his blade toward Azrikal’s chest. Azrikal let out a grunt, yet the blade failed to pierce—after all, David wasn't covering his blade with his darkness.

  It just wasn't enough.

  Azrikal was now losing interest. He planted his foot firmly and, with terrifying speed, his molten fist swung upward. David saw it coming, but it was too late. The strike connected—solid, crushing, and unrelenting.

  David’s body lifted off the ground, the force sending him hurtling through the air before he crashed into a jagged rock formation.

  The impact shattered ice, stone, and bone alike.

  STATUS

  HP : ????? 13?

  DEFENSE : ????? ??

  MANA : ????? 1?2

  A deep ache spread through his ribs, sharp and unbearable. He gasped, coughing up blood, his vision momentarily flickering.

  Azrikal rolled his shoulders, shaking off the frost. “You’re strong-willed,” he admitted, his voice still mocking. “But persistence alone is not enough.”

  But Zephiron remained the most patient of them all. He stood in silent observation, fully aware that the moment he freed Azrikal from the Shard’s influence, David would suffer an utterly crushing defeat.

  David stood motionless, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. Defeat loomed over him, pressing down like an iron weight.

  A fury burned within him—not of recklessness, but of defiance. No, this was sharper, colder—a fire that refused to be extinguished.

  And the pressure that sought to break him?

  It only fueled the blaze.

  His hands clenched around his blade. The mana he had poured into it had failed him. Even the enhanced cold had not been enough to match Azrikal’s overwhelming might.

  Fine. Then he would return to what had worked.

  Darkness swirled around him as he abandoned the failing technique. He let his light surge outward, weaving through his wounds, sealing the worst of them.

  His movements were still sluggish—Azrikal’s earlier strikes had done their damage—but the light was mending him, restoring him piece by piece.

  STATUS

  HP : ????? 1?1

  DEFENSE : ????? ??

  MANA : ????? 1??

  With a sharp exhale, David lunged forward, darkness trailing him in tendrils. He met Azrikal head-on.

  Azrikal barely moved, his stance shifting slightly as he deflected David’s first strike. His molten veins pulsed with a fiery glow, his abyssal flames surging around his blade.

  With a flick of his wrist, he redirected David’s attack, stepping aside effortlessly.

  Then, he countered.

  A burst of speed—David barely caught a blur of motion before Azrikal’s fist slammed into his side. Pain exploded through his ribs, sending him stumbling back.

  STATUS

  HP : ????? 111

  DEFENSE : ????? ?3

  MANA : ????? 13?

  Azrikal gave him no time to recover. He was already there, his blade carving through the space between them with blistering speed.

  David dodged, twisting his body at the last moment, the tip of the burning sword grazing his shoulder. He gritted his teeth. Azrikal wasn’t just stronger—he was faster, sharper. His attacks carried precision, every movement honed to perfection.

  It was a losing battle.

  Then, just as he prepared to block the next strike, he felt it.

  A violent wave of energy erupted within him. Darkness, raw and untamed, surged through his veins. A sudden system notification blinked in his vision.

  ? ? ? UPGRADING DARKNESS POWER ? ? ?

  David’s breath hitched. He had felt this before—when he had upgraded his light using system units. Back then, it had been as if an endless well of vitality had opened inside him. If the same applied to his darkness…

  But he wasn’t upgrading now using the system units—was it because he had been exerting his darkness power for a while now?

  He had mere seconds before the upgrade completed. He had to act now.

  Azrikal came at him again, but David was already moving. He stretched out his hand, darkness swirling from his fingertips, weaving itself into an intricate form—the skill he had developed against the scorpion.

  The Swirling Chains.

  Tendrils of darkness shot out, latching onto Azrikal’s shadow. The effect wasn’t absolute—the scorpion had been far weaker than this monster before him—but it was enough. Azrikal slowed, his body resisting the unseen force binding his movements.

  It was time to finish this.

  With his newfound surge of darkness, David gathered every ounce of power he had left. His light flared around him, merging with his shadows, a paradox of energy colliding within him.

  He raised his blade—this time not as a weapon of ice, but as a conduit for his true power.

  Then, he unleashed it.

  A devastating arc of twilight energy erupted from his blade, cutting through the air like a jagged crescent. It was neither pure light nor complete darkness—it was both.

  The attack slammed into Azrikal with unstoppable force, the collision sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield.

  For the first time since breaking free from the Shard’s influence, Azrikal faltered.

  His molten veins flickered. His abyssal flames dimmed. He dropped to a knee, his body barely holding itself together.

  David, panting, took a single step forward. He leveled his blade at Azrikal.

  “This,” he muttered, “is the end.”

  And with one final slash, he cut through Azrikal’s defenses, his blade striking true.

  A deafening silence followed. Then, Azrikal collapsed.

  "Hahh... Hhh... Hhh..."

  David's breaths came ragged and uneven as a fresh set of windows flickered into existence before him.

  ? ? ? UPGRADE SUCCESSFUL ? ? ?

  POWERS

  LIGHT POWER : D Class [ ? 30 SU ]

  ? Healing Bursts [ ? 1 SU ]

  ? Light Blade [ ? 1 SU ]

  DARKNESS POWER : C Class [ ? 75 SU ]

  ? Swirling Chain [ ? 1 SU ]

  But it wasn’t over. Not yet.

  David turned, his body protesting with every movement. His fight with Azrikal had drained him—he had poured everything into it. And now, he had to face another.

  Zephiron stood before him, unshaken, untouched. Unlike Azrikal, he had waited. He had watched. And his eyes locked with David’s.