Five days.
That's all it took for the numbers to collapse.
From two hundred players down to ten—like leaves falling from a diseased tree. Every remaining survivor was a legend carved through blood and soul.
The five known killers remained:
—Vehras, the Bloodforged
—Sereia, the String Queen
—Haldras, the Frost Tyrant
—Clown 47, the Metal Jester
—Asuro, the Bone-Fanged Monk
Then there was Lilisha, the succubus girl—hovering between desire and death.
And Yamino, silent, steady, hunger burning in his veins.
The other three? Unknown. But if they were here now, then they were no less monsters.
---
A red dusk blanketed the battlefield—a fractured world made of floating ruins, broken terrain, and shifting platforms suspended mid-air.
This was the last arena. The Heaven's Scar.
As soon as the clock struck zero, the final battle royale began.
Yamino didn't run. He walked.
His boots echoed across a cracked stone bridge, fire drifting from the ruins below.
He felt it before he saw it.
Stillness. Silence. Peace.
Asuro stood at the other end of the bridge, barefoot, clothed in his tattered monk robe dyed crimson with the blood of dozens. Eyes still closed. Hands calmly folded.
He stood on nothing—just air, suspended like the rules no longer applied.
"You are Yamino," Asuro spoke, voice gentle as a breeze. "The devourer."
Yamino's eyes narrowed. "And you're the one who thinks silence is a weapon."
Asuro offered a nod. "It is the only true one."
Without further talk, the world itself held its breath.
---
Yamino moved first.
He burst forward, faster than sound, sovereign flames coating his arms as beast claws erupted from his gauntlets. His instinct screamed to kill fast—Asuro's presence was unnatural.
He slashed down.
Asuro raised a single finger and tapped the air.
BOOM.
An invisible wall shattered the air between them. Yamino was thrown back, skidding across the broken bridge.
He was up in an instant, already shifting—the grim weapon skill activating. His sniper morphed into a twisted beast rifle with red sigils. He fired point blank.
Silent bullet. Soul-forged.
Asuro turned his head a centimeter.
The bullet vanished midair.
No distortion. No trick. Just gone.
"You aim with fury," Asuro whispered. "But your center is still shaken."
"Shut up," Yamino growled. "Let's see if you preach after I rip your soul out."
He activated Death Night—his aura turned pitch black, like a cloak of the underworld. The sky around him dimmed.
He charged again, claws crackling.
Asuro… smiled.
---
This time, Asuro moved.
One step.
The bridge shattered from the pressure.
He appeared behind Yamino in a blink, fangs gleaming unnaturally from his mouth.
Yamino twisted just in time, parrying with his spear. Asuro's palm struck the weapon—and turned it into dust.
Before Yamino could react, a bite slammed into his shoulder.
Pain lanced through him.
He jumped back, black blood hissing from the wound.
Asuro wiped his lips.
"Taste of lost divinity. You're not fully soul anymore," he said. "Half-grim. Half-heart."
Yamino didn't respond. His wound sealed, beast regeneration surging.
He raised his hand. "You talk too much."
He called on his grim beasts.
Ten monstrous hounds made of soul-steel and fire erupted around him, lunging at Asuro in a synchronized assault.
Asuro exhaled.
Then, he sat down cross-legged—mid-battle.
One breath.
One hum.
The hounds froze in the air.
Yamino's eyes widened. They weren't paralyzed—they were being undone, soul by soul.
"This is my domain," Asuro whispered.
[ Skill: Bone Temple of Silence – Activated ]
The entire arena around them turned quiet. Wind died. Light dimmed. Sound stopped.
Yamino couldn't even hear his own heartbeat.
He gritted his teeth. His vision blurred.
But then—
King's Will roared within him.
Even locked away, the essence of dominance flickered.
Yamino raised both arms, crossing them into an X.
BOOM.
He broke the silence field.
His eyes glowed red.
Beast tattoos slithered across his skin.
"You're not the only one with a domain," Yamino growled. "I don't need to hear to kill you."
He summoned the spinal cannon of a chimera beast and fired a blast of soul-bile.
Asuro stood midair, unfazed.
He caught the soul energy in his mouth, drank it, and descended again.
"Your hatred is pure," he said softly. "But your mind is chaotic."
Then, he came at Yamino.
---
They clashed a thousand times in a second.
Claws against palms. Fangs against will. Silence against death.
The battlefield warped around them. Each strike sent ripples through space.
Yamino's eyes bled as he pushed himself past the threshold.
He began using his soul like a weapon. His aura turned into tangible spikes, impaling the air.
Asuro bled. Just a little.
And he smiled.
"I see now," he said.
Yamino, panting, stood tall. "What?"
"You're already dead. But somehow… still alive. Fascinating."
He bowed. "Then I shall kill the idea of you."
He opened his arms.
"Bone Dharma – Fangs of the Lotus."
A massive spectral beast formed behind him—a hybrid of lion and monk, glowing with serene fury. Its mouth opened, and Yamino felt his soul being pulled into it.
He screamed.
His soul form began to fracture.
Yamino fell to one knee.
Blood and mist poured from his mouth.
Then—
"GRIM WEAPON: REAPER'S HALBERD."
A scythe twice the size of his body formed in his hands, curved with infernal runes. He slammed it into the air and cut the soul attack in half.
Asuro's avatar vanished.
He looked shocked. His eyes opened for the first time.
They were black voids.
Yamino grinned through his blood.
"You blinked."
And threw the halberd.
Straight through Asuro's chest.
The monk staggered.
Fell to one knee.
"Death… at last," he whispered.
Yamino walked up to him.
"Silence that."
He devoured his soul.
[ Soul Consumed: Asuro – Bone Monk of Stillness ]
[ Skill Gained: Bone Dharma Lv. MAX ]
[ Level Up: 46 → 51 ]
Asuro's body turned to dust.
Yamino stood in the red twilight, bleeding, exhausted, triumphant.
Nine enemies left.
And he was just warming up.
.
.
.
The death of Asuro left an eerie calm in the scarred battlefield. Yamino's breath steamed in the cold wind, his soul form flickering with each pulse. He had gained a fragment of bone serenity, a part of the monk's silent terror—but the cost was heavy. His body was cracked, soul stained. A battle like that wasn't just a fight—it was a ritual of ruin.
But there was no time to rest.
From the floating plateau above, a sound shattered the silence.
CLANG!
A thunderous metallic crash echoed through the Heavenscar.
Two players were already at war.
Vehras, the Bloodforged, towered in his armor of living metal and blood-pumping sigils. Each swing of his axe tore the sky. His body pulsed with molten veins, and every hit fed his weapon.
His opponent? Sereia, the String Queen.
She danced between attacks, her fingers weaving translucent threads in the air. Her eyes shimmered with madness and precision. Her dress looked like stitched skin and silk, and from her back trailed seven puppet arms, each holding a different weapon—rapier, dagger, claws, needles.
Yamino's eyes locked on them.
He was still aching.
He was still bleeding.
But he jumped.
---
He landed between them just as Vehras slammed his axe toward Sereia.
CLAAAANG!
Yamino intercepted it with his halberd—metal groaned and soul sparks flew.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Vehras roared, eyes wide behind his spiked helmet.
Sereia tilted her head, amused. "Ahh… the soul-eater joins the waltz. How romantic."
"I'm not here to dance," Yamino growled, stepping forward, blood leaking from his cracked arms. "But I'm not letting either of you win."
Without warning, Vehras roared and swung again, this time with blood-thirst channeling from his armor into the axe. The weapon screamed—a blade forged from souls of hundreds. It split the earth beneath them.
Yamino dodged, barely.
Sereia launched her strings—invisible until they struck. One coiled around Yamino's arm, pulling tight like a piano wire slicing flesh.
Another grabbed Vehras' shoulder, twisting him mid-swing.
"Don't you love the way tension binds us?" she purred.
Yamino snarled, yanked the string forward—and pulled Sereia herself straight into his knee. Her face cracked under the impact, but she laughed.
"Pain is part of the rhythm!"
She flipped back, dozens more threads spiraling from her fingers. A puppet hand holding a chakram sliced at Yamino's throat.
Vehras didn't wait.
His armor pulsed—[Skill: Blood Reforge] activated. Metal spikes jutted from his body and he charged like a locomotive beast.
Yamino was caught between the hammer and the harlot.
---
He turned to the side—too slow.
Vehras's axe tore across his ribs, slicing deep into his side. Soul blood sprayed like black mist.
Before he could react, Sereia's strings tightened.
Pop.
His left shoulder dislocated.
Yamino howled—his soul body nearly unstable from the damage.
He staggered, halberd slipping.
Sereia grinned and sent a thread straight for his eye.
But something inside Yamino twisted.
His beast instincts awakened.
[Sovereign of Grim Beasts – Passive: Enduring Wild]
A sudden surge of primal rage filled his bones. Even with broken limbs, his core howled.
He caught the string mid-air—with his teeth—and yanked.
Sereia fell toward him again.
But this time, she was met with a headbutt that cracked the air.
Vehras lunged once more, but Yamino rolled forward, slid under his legs, and tore upward with a clawed hand.
Vehras screamed—his calf split open, armor breaking. Blood flowed, feeding the arena.
---
But Yamino was not unscathed.
His vision blurred. His soul core wavered.
This was different from Asuro. Vehras was raw power. Sereia was unpredictable and cruel. Their synergy—even if accidental—was breaking him.
Yamino fell to one knee, panting.
His halberd broke.
His beast claws flickered.
And then…
Sereia's thread wrapped around his neck.
She pulled tight, laughing. "Let's see if the king can die again."
But in her glee, she missed something.
Yamino's hand wasn't still.
He had summoned one of the beast weapons that rained from the sky.
A dagger infused with hydra venom. Grim-forged.
He stabbed it backward, into her gut.
Sereia gasped.
And Vehras, mid-charge, realized he was too close.
Yamino pulled Sereia into his arms—just as Vehras's axe smashed down on both of them.
The ground cracked. Dust exploded.
Silence followed.
Then…
Vehras stepped back, blinking.
Yamino rose from the crater, bloodied, broken, but alive. Barely.
Sereia lay unconscious, threads twitching like dying worms.
Vehras growled. "You're insane."
Yamino wiped blood from his mouth, smirking weakly.
"Takes one to know one."
---
[ Soul Consumed (Partially): Sereia – String Queen ]
[ Skill Acquired: Puppet Nerve Lv. 1 ]
[ Status: Critical. Soul Core at 22%. Grimform Unstable. ]
He didn't kill Vehras.
Not yet.
But now they both knew something had changed.
For the first time, Yamino nearly died.
And he liked it.
Because it reminded him: he was still alive.