Chapter 33: Simulation Exam (4)
The ruins rose around them like the skeleton of some old, forgotten thing—towers of pale stone cracked and crumbling, half-sunk in drifts of sand and tangled thorns that snagged at their boots. The air felt thick, heavy with a pressure that wasn't just weight but something older, like the place remembered pain and held it close. It made your skin itch, your neck prickle, like eyes watching from the dark. The map they'd been given pointed here, to the sanctum's heart, where the mana core was supposed to be locked away—a faint blue glow pulsing somewhere deep, calling them in.
Lucian Azrael Von Blackstar stepped through the broken archway first, his boots barely making a sound on the worn stone, swallowed by the low hum of power sleeping in the walls. The air was cooler here, but still wrong—sharp with the tang of old mana, like rust and ozone mixed. His ashen-white hair caught the dim light filtering through cracks above, and his deep black eyes scanned the shadows, calm but sharp, like he was reading a book he already knew the end to. Celestia Silveria Van Lumina and Christopher Davenson followed close, her sword gleaming faint in her hand, his fists clenched and ready, both watching the dark corners like trouble was a sure thing.
The second they crossed into the central hall—a big, open space with pillars leaning like drunks and a ceiling half-gone to the red sky outside—a low growl rolled out, deep and mean, shaking the dust from the stones. Ten shapes slunk from the shadows, crawling out slow like they'd been waiting all along. Monsters made of bad mana, their bodies twisted—reptilian legs stuck with black scales that shone like wet rock, veins pulsing red-hot under the surface, like lava trapped in skin. They weren't as tough as the beasts from before, each one marked Class C+—small fry compared to the Class S nightmares—but there were too many for most kids to handle without shaking in their boots.
Christopher cracked his knuckles loud, a grin splitting his face despite the sweat on his brow. "Finally, something easier than those damn beasts earlier. Time for payback! Let's break these things and grab that core!"
Celestia tightened her grip on her sword, her silver hair swaying as her mana flared up, bright and cool like moonlight on water. "Let's finish this quickly," she said, voice steady but with that edge of someone ready to get it done and move on.
Lucian didn't say a word. His black eyes gleamed faint in the half-light, picking up the glow of the monsters' veins, and the air around him started to move—like it was answering a beat only he could hear. When the first monster lunged, all claws and teeth snapping for his throat, his blade moved—not fast like panic, but sure, like it was always meant to land right there.
One clean stroke cut through the thing's chest, and it burst into blue sparks, gone like smoke in a breeze.
'It's been awhile since I've killed monsters,' Lucian thought, calm even as the others hissed and circled. 'Haah, I miss this feeling—this thrill. It's been so long since I've used the Hybrid Blade Demonic Arts. My master, the Fourth Heavenly Demon God of the Heavenly Demonic Cult, Cheon Mugyung, taught me this hybrid art in my third life as Seonin. He forged it through blood and discipline—each form a hymn of destruction and harmony.'
Another monster came at him from the right, claws glowing with a dull red pulse. Lucian spun smooth, his breath matching the blade's swing like they were one thing. The edge sang—a low hum that cut the air—and sliced through two necks in one clean sweep, both beasts dissolving into motes that floated down like ash.
'And Seoryeon… she's the one who taught me refinement,' he thought, stepping back as another lunged. 'She said, "Your breath is your sword, your sword is your will. If one falters, both shatter." That's how I learned to breathe—not just with lungs, but with every fiber of my being.'
He pulled in a breath, deep and slow, feeling his lower dantian hum like a drum hit soft. Mana folded inward, circling perfect, matching his heartbeat like it was part of the same song. He let the breath out measured, no rush, and the mana in him buzzed, alive and ready. The Hybrid Blade Demonic Arts needed that kind of control—one slip, one uneven breath, and the whole thing could collapse, eating the one holding the blade.
'Even now, though I use mana instead of qi, the art obeys me… no, it bows to me. It knows its Monarch. It knows its Master.'
A bright flash cut through the gloom—Celestia's sword lit up like a star, white-gold light spilling out. "Lumina Divine Art: Silver Radiance!" she called, voice sharp and clear, ringing over the growls. Her swing sent an arc of light slicing through the air, hitting two monsters at once. They burst in a rush of heat and clean mana, like burning away a stain, their forms gone in a blink, leaving only a faint shimmer in the air.
Christopher slammed his gauntleted fist into the ground hard, cracking the stone under him with a sound like breaking wood. "Ha! You take that side, Princess! I'll clean up here!" He charged forward, punches moving so fast they blurred, each hit landing like a hammer on nails. Where his fists struck, the monsters turned to mist, his raw strength shaking the old walls so dust rained down from the ceiling.
The last few beasts tried to circle Lucian, their claws glowing with tight-packed mana, red veins pulsing faster like they sensed he was the one to watch. He just smirked, small and quiet, letting the mana in his core churn like water getting ready to boil. He whispered inside, the words clear in his head:
'Hybrid Blade Demonic Arts—Second Form: The Tide's Flow.'
His blade turned into a streak, moving through the monsters like a shadow sliding over water. Every strike sent out ripples of black-silver light, cutting clean through the pack. The beasts howled, loud and desperate, their bodies collapsing into shimmering dust that settled on the stone floor. The hall went quiet again, just the sound of their breathing and the faint hum of the ruins.
Lucian sheathed his blade with a soft click, letting out a light breath. His mana settled fast, the technique fading like smoke curling off a fire that's gone out.
Christopher leaned against a pillar, panting hard but grinning wide, sweat dripping down his face. "Man, remind me to never piss you off. You didn't even break a sweat. That was like watching someone cut butter with a hot knife!"
Celestia wiped her blade clean on her sleeve, her crimson-tinted eyes flicking to Lucian with a look that was soft but heavy, like she saw more than just the fight. "You really haven't lost your touch… have you, Lucian?" she said, voice quiet but warm.
He didn't answer straight, just let a faint smirk pull at the corner of his lips, quick and gone. "Let's move. The mana core should be deeper inside."
Celestia nodded, her face softening more, like she was holding onto something she didn't want to let go. "Hurry, Lucian. We need to go inside before the next wave spawns."
Lucian glanced once at the dark corridor ahead, its faint blue glow pulsing like a heartbeat calling them deeper. "Alright," he said, voice low and calm, like he was just stepping out for a walk.
The three moved forward together—Celestia's light steps steady beside him, Christopher's heavier ones echoing off the stone—heading deeper into the ruins, toward the heart of the exam and whatever fate had waiting next.