ELENIUS began dragging Lin outside the room.
Everyone had already left—except for Oriana.
Once she was sure no one remained, she coughed violently, blood splattering into her hand.
"Damn it... this pregnancy is making me weaker," she muttered, then called her maid.
"Prepare the medical path... now."
Elenius stood in front of Lin, his eyes cold and unreadable.
"My sister told me to prepare you," he said, voice devoid of warmth. "And I won't disappoint her."
He pointed at the blade on the ground.
"Grab your dagger. That's the heir's blade. You need to learn how to wield it."
He stepped closer, his tone sharper:
"Try to learn quickly… because if you don't take it seriously, you might lose an arm. Or a leg."
Then he moved.
Blindingly fast, Elenius blurred around Lin before slamming his fist into his stomach.
Lin gasped, the air knocked from his lungs as he crashed onto the ring's floor.
Clenching his teeth, Lin reached for his dagger.
He focused his mana, coating the blade with a layer of poison.
Then, with a sharp breath, he launched a series of slashes.
He gathered pressure into his legs—and in a burst of speed, he lunged like lightning in a single, deadly strike.
But Elenius was no fool.
He dodged with precision, leapt into the air, and spun—
—delivering a powerful kick to Lin's shoulder. A loud crack echoed.
Lin's dagger flew from his hand and clattered to the ground.
With a casual flick of his foot, Elenius kicked the blade out of the ring.
Lin clenched his fists.
His eyes glowed a fierce blue.
His reflexes sharpened, strength surged, and speed intensified.
He attacked—this time using his hand like a blade, launching swift, clean strikes.
The atmosphere shifted. Lin was taking this seriously now.
Elenius smirked and began dodging again, weaving through each strike.
Then he retaliated—
A punch to Lin's stomach dropped him to his knees.
Without warning, Elenius flicked two fingers—
A poisonous gust slashed across Lin's cheek, leaving a thin, stinging cut.
Next, he stomped the ground, sending chunks of rock into the air.
With a quick motion, he batted one forward at bullet-speed.
Lin dodged the first—but the second slammed into his leg, drawing blood.
Growling, Lin spun, grabbing a large stone and using it as a makeshift shield.
"Lin," Elenius said coolly, "You're doing well."
Lin staggered to his feet, breathing heavily.
"Damn you…" he spat. "Are you trying to kill me?"
Elenius smirked.
"Maybe… I should stop toying now."
He raised his hand slowly.
The wind stilled.
The light dimmed.
Even the mana in the air seemed to recoil.
Around his arm, the white flames coiled—
—but not like fire.
They twisted, slithered, hissed.
A spectral serpent of light emerged, wrapping itself along his shoulder, then extending outward—floating above the ring like a divine executioner.
Elenius began to chant, his voice low and haunting:
> "O Serpent born of silent flame,
With hollow eyes and none to tame—
Awaken now, from void arise,
And stretch thy coils across the skies."
> "In sacred hush, the judgment calls,
Let rot be cleansed, let silence fall.
Through bone and blood, through soul and sin,
Let all unworthy burn within."
> "By fangs unseen and breath of white,
Devour stars, unmake the night.
Let heavens break, let ground ignite—
Explode, and drown the world in light!"
The serpent flared.
Its eyes opened—pure, soulless white.
Lin barely had time to react. He tried to raise a shield, but his mana scattered in fear.
The serpent launched downward—
—and at that moment, the world went white.
No sound.
No heat.
Just pure annihilation.
A heartbeat later, the light vanished—
leaving behind scorched stone, cracked pillars, and smoke drifting in silence.
In the center of the ruined ring…
Lin lay sprawled on the ground.
Blood poured from his wounds.
His skin was laced with pale, fading marks—not burns, but erasures.
As if he were fading out of life itself.
As if something was killing him from the inside out.
As if he were dying—not just in body, but in being.
And yet, thanks to his enchanted garb, he was still alive.
Without it, he would've been nothing but ash.
He wasn't dead.
But he wasn't far from it.
Elenius stood above him, his voice cold and quiet:
> "You felt it, didn't you?
The True White Flame doesn't destroy.
It reveals what was meant to stay hidden."
He turned and began walking away—
leaving Lin in the silence, his breath shallow, eyes dim, and the scent of purity and destruction clinging to the air.
A long, high-pitched scream pierced the silence—
"AaaaaaaAHHHH!!"
It came from Lin.
But it wasn't just Lin anymore.
Dark energy erupted from his body, surging like a wave of corrupted mana.
His eyes turned pitch black, the whites swallowed by endless void.
His breathing stopped—but his body moved.
He rose like a shadow given form, limbs twitching unnaturally—
as if the Whitefire hadn't burned him… but awakened something.
In a single flicker, he vanished.
Elenius barely turned when—
BAM!
A shadowy force slammed into him, sending him flying out of the ring.
He crashed hard, rolling across the floor, coughing blood.
A second later—
CRACK!
A punch—dark and ruthless—drove straight into Elenius's stomach, lifting him off the ground before slamming him back down.
Elenius groaned as he tried to rise, blood dripping from his mouth.
His legs trembled.
He looked at Lin—no, the thing Lin had become—
and for the first time since their meeting…
Elenius hesitated.
Not from pain.
But from something colder.
Fear.
He raised his hand again, summoning the Whitefire—
but instead of answering with its usual majesty, the flames sparked erratically…
shuddered.
As if the flame itself remembered something older.
Something buried.
Elenius's eyes widened.
"...You're not just cursed," he whispered. "You're... sealed."
But Lin didn't respond.
He just tilted his head slowly, like a predator studying a broken toy.
Then—
BOOM!
Lin vanished again, reappearing above Elenius with a spiraling axe-kick, crashing down like a meteor.
Then—out of nowhere—
Lin appeared again, standing over him.
With both legs, he launched a brutal stomp, slamming Elenius into the ground with such force that a sickening crack echoed from his skull.
Elenius's hand trembled as he tried to summon the Whitefire again—
but it flickered, unstable… almost afraid.
He looked up.
Lin stood there—barefoot, skin cracked with black veins, eyes hollow like the void.
No expression.
No soul.
No mercy.