Chapter 38: Lucian VS "Simon" (1)
The battlefield stank of burnt mana and hot iron, the air thick with ash that fell like gray snow over the cracked ground. Broken armor and shattered weapons lay scattered, glinting dully under the smoky sky, where mana residue twisted the clouds into unnatural shapes. The Simulation Exam had gone way past a school test—it was a war zone now, the kind of place where you could feel the fight in your bones before you saw it.
Lucian, Celestia, and Christopher moved careful through the debris, their senses sharp as knives, eyes scanning for any sign of life. The clean, orderly academy grounds they'd started in were gone, twisted into something dark and wrong—half illusion, half real, like a nightmare you couldn't shake. The ground crunched under their boots, each step kicking up dust that hung heavy in the air.
A faint voice broke the quiet—hoarse, desperate, pleading from the distance. "P-please! Please let me live! I'll surrender, I'll quit the exam! Just—just don't kill me like the others!"
A cruel laugh cut through, sharp and mean. "Hah?! You really think you'll get lucky? Dumbass."
Lucian's face darkened, his deep black eyes narrowing. That voice—mocking, full of itself—belonged to Simon, one of Prince Silvan's crew. Or at least, it sounded like him.
"Fuck that!" "Simon" went on, his tone dripping with ugly glee. "This is a competition, not a charity event! The weak die first! Goodbye, trash! Hahahahaha!"
A silver blade flashed down toward the terrified student, fast and final—
CLANG!
The strike stopped dead. A black-silver saber blocked it clean, no shake, no give, just pure precision. Sparks flew between the blades, and a gust of mana burst out, kicking up ash and dirt.
Lucian stood in front of the student, his ashen-white hair fluttering in the wind of his own mana, his deep black eyes glowing faint in the dim light, cold and unreadable like a storm waiting to break. The air around him felt heavy, like it was pressing down on everyone nearby.
For a moment, everything froze—time, sound, even the ash in the air.
"Simon's" grin faded, his sword hand shaking just a bit. "You—how did you move that fast…?" he asked, voice low, like he wasn't sure he wanted the answer.
Lucian didn't say a word. His presence alone was enough—suffocating, like standing too close to a fire you couldn't see.
The fake Simon took a slow step back, his eyes narrowing as he felt something strange coming off Lucian. 'This aura… this isn't mana. It's something else,' he thought, his mind racing. 'Terrifying… ancient… suffocating.'
Lucian finally spoke, his voice low and steady, like a blade drawn slow. "Simon," he said, pausing just long enough to let the name hang. "Or should I say—Mr. Shapeshifter of the Dark Mage Organization. Where's the real one?"
A single drop of sweat slid down the imposter's cheek, glinting in the smoky light. Then, out of nowhere, he laughed—loud and sharp, like he was trying to shake off the pressure. "Hahahahaha! What are you talking about, Blackstar? You accusing me of being a Dark Mage now? You finally lost your mind?" His grin twisted, darker, uglier. "Hah. What did I expect from a villainous bastard like you?"
Lucian's eyes narrowed, his saber twitching just a hair in his grip. The air got colder, heavier, like the world was holding its breath.
The imposter's smile slipped, his face paling as he felt it—Lucian's killing intent, cold and deep, like staring into a pit with no bottom.
---
Christopher vs Prince Silvan
Not far off, Christopher charged toward Prince Silvan, his boots pounding the cracked ground. Silvan stood tall, his golden hair catching the faint light, his pristine armor glowing with divine energy that made the air hum. He swung his Lumina Royal Blade, trailing a streak of white-gold light like a comet. "You should've stayed out of this, Christopher!" he shouted, his voice sharp with royal pride. "You're not my enemy—but if you stand in my way, I'll cut you down!"
Christopher blocked the blow with his gauntlet, the impact ringing out like a hammer on steel, shaking the air around them. "You talk too much, Your Highness!" he shot back, throwing a punch that cracked the ground under Silvan's feet. "You think being royalty gives you a free pass to act like a damn tyrant?!"
Silvan parried with a flash of light, his Lumina aura bursting out like a small sun, pushing Christopher back a step. The two clashed again and again—blade meeting fist, sparks flying, shockwaves rippling across the battlefield, kicking up dust and ash.
"Your brute strength won't win against divine mana!" Silvan taunted, his eyes blazing with confidence.
Christopher smirked, wiping a smear of dirt from his cheek. "Maybe not—but it's enough to make you bleed!" He grabbed Silvan's sword arm mid-swing, yanking it down and slamming his knee into the prince's ribs. Silvan stumbled back, coughing hard, but spun quick, releasing a burst of Lumina Light that forced Christopher to jump back or get burned.
Silvan's eyes burned brighter, his pride flaring. "I'll show you the difference between a peasant and a prince!"
Christopher spat blood from a cut lip and laughed, loud and rough. "Oh, I'm gonna enjoy shutting you up, Your Royal Pain Ass!"
---
Celestia vs Serene
A short distance away, Celestia faced off against Serene, their boots kicking up ash as they circled each other. Serene's crimson eyes glinted dangerous, her mana pulsing like a fire you could feel from across the field. "My, my, Lady Celestia," she teased, her lips curling into a sharp, sinister smile. "Fighting me personally? Shouldn't you be protecting your darling Lucian instead?"
Celestia's gray eyes hardened, her grip tight on her sword. "You talk too much, Serene," she said, voice cold and steady, like she was done with games.
She dashed forward, her Lumina Sword glowing with holy light, bright enough to cut through the smoky air. Serene met her head-on with her crimson rapier, the clash of their magic sending streaks of white and red sparking through the haze. The air hummed with the pressure, like it was about to break.
"Still playing the holy princess, I see," Serene taunted, their blades locking tight, metal screeching. "Tell me, do you even know how to kill?"
Celestia gritted her teeth, pushing forward to break the lock, slashing diagonal in a flash of light. "If it means protecting him and everyone else—then yes," she said, her voice sharp with resolve.
Serene laughed, spinning out of the way, her rapier slicing through Celestia's sleeve, just missing her skin. "That's the spirit, princess! Let's see how long that conviction lasts!" she said, her voice dripping with mockery.
They clashed again, sparks flying as Celestia's Lumina Art flared brighter, filling the air with a clean, radiant glow. Serene, grinning, channeled her crimson mana into her rapier, the blade twisting into the shape of jagged fangs. "Let's play, Celestia! Ardenia Sacred Art: Vampiric Waltz!" she shouted, lunging in a blur of red, her strikes fast and sharp like a snake striking.
Celestia blocked every hit, her sword moving quick, the air vibrating with the force of their clash. Her arms ached, her breath came hard, but she didn't back down, her eyes locked on Serene's. "Lumina Divine Art—Heaven's Edge!" she called, unleashing a vertical beam of light that tore through the ground, blasting Serene backward in a burst of dust and smoke.
Serene hit the ground hard, coughing blood but laughing through it, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Hah… hahahaha! You're finally showing your fangs, princess!" she said, her voice wild with excitement.
---
Lucian vs "Simon"
Back at the center, Lucian and the imposter stood still, the tension between them so thick it felt like the air was choking. The ash stopped falling, the wind went quiet, like the battlefield was holding its breath.
Then "Simon" smirked and lunged, moving fast, his blade coated in black mana that smoked and hissed. The ground cracked under his steps as he aimed for Lucian's neck, the strike meant to end it quick.
Lucian tilted his head just enough, the blade missing by an inch, the air whistling as it passed. He countered in one smooth motion—one swing, perfectly timed, cutting the imposter's cheek and sending black ichor spraying across the dirt.
The imposter hissed, leaping back, clutching his face as the dark goo dripped between his fingers. "You… bastard!" he spat, his voice shaking with pain and anger.
Lucian's gaze stayed cold, his saber steady. "You're slow," he said, voice flat, like he was pointing out the weather.
"Don't get cocky, boy!" The imposter's voice dropped deeper, his disguise flickering, the edges of his face blurring like a bad illusion. "You've no idea who you're dealing with!"
He slashed again, faster now, his sword twisting unnaturally, like liquid shadow stretching and bending. Lucian parried each strike without effort, sparks bursting around them like fireworks, the air humming with mana. Then, under his breath, Lucian whispered, his breathing steady, refined, like he was pulling every move from memory. "Hybrid Blade Demonic Art… First Form: The One That Cuts the Tides."
The movement was perfect, like water flowing smooth. His saber drew an arc of pure black energy, sharp and clean, hitting the imposter square in the chest. The force sent him crashing into a stone pillar, dust exploding around him as he coughed up more black goo, grinning through the pain like it was a game.
"Heh… not bad… not bad at all," the shapeshifter said, his voice deeper now, rough and corrupted, his disguise peeling more to show dark veins crawling up his neck. "You caught me off guard, Blackstar—but playtime's over."
Lucian raised his saber again, his eyes narrowing. "Then stop talking."
The imposter laughed, loud and wild. "As you wish."
He spread his arms wide, and his aura erupted like a black storm, swallowing the light around them, the air turning thick and heavy. The ground shook, cracks spreading out from where he stood.
Celestia, mid-fight with Serene, turned her head quick, her eyes widening. "Lucian—!" she called, her voice tight with worry.
Lucian stood firm as the black waves of mana surged toward him, his own aura rising to meet it—demonic energy mixing with mana in a perfect balance, like fire and ice holding steady. The air screamed, the ground split, and the Simulation Room's illusion started to flicker, the edges of the world blurring like a bad dream.
'Tch… if he goes full form now, this place will collapse,' Lucian thought, his mind grim but focused. 'I'll have to end this fast.'
The two clashed again—saber against dark blade, sparks and explosions tearing through the battlefield, shockwaves kicking up dirt and ash. Christopher and Silvan paused their fight, both turning to watch the chaos at the center, their own battle forgotten for a moment. Even Serene stopped, licking blood from her lip, a faint smile curling her mouth as she watched. "Haah… now that's a real monster," she said, her voice low with awe.
Celestia's heart pounded, her grip tightening on her sword. "Lucian…" she whispered, her voice shaking but determined.
Lucian blocked another wild strike from the fake Simon, the shapeshifter's body cracking open, the disguise falling apart to reveal something twisted underneath—a hybrid of man and shadow, grinning with jagged, fanged teeth that gleamed in the dark.
"Let's see if you can handle my true power, Blackstar!" the shapeshifter roared, his voice echoing through the crumbling ruins, shaking the ground.
Lucian tightened his grip on his saber, the black mist coiling around him like a snake, his deep black eyes flashing with a demonic light. 'Fine then,' he thought, his voice steady in his mind, sharp with resolve. 'Let's end this.'