The wasteland had become a stadium of death. The eight demon commanders stood tall, their skills shaping the battlefield itself. I had no escape, no allies—only my sword, my mask, and catastrophe.
The Eighth Commander, Ressee Noyle, struck first. Lightning surged across the arena, spheres of crackling energy raining down. I raised my Holy Shield, absorbing the storm. My Holy Steps carried me behind him, but his sphere struck, burning my side. I invoked Holy Recover, my wounds knitting instantly, the immortal effect keeping me alive. My sword flashed. Holy Slash cut through his chest. Ressee fell, his lightning fading into silence.
The Seventh Commander, Sabot Kathe, rose next. The ground split, pillars of stone erupting. I dodged with Holy Path, my speed unmatched. Sabot's earth nature tried to divide the arena, but I invoked Holy Immune, canceling his skill. His spikes shot upward, but I leapt aside, circling him. My blade struck true. Sabot collapsed, the earth swallowing him.
The Sixth Commander, Cartin Alfred, summoned a flood. Water surged, drowning the arena. Few in this world could swim—but I had learned long ago. Alfred conjured a vortex, a whirlpool meant to drag me under. Last Minute Luck activated. My Holy Immune expanded into a field, dispelling the vortex. I created clones with Holy Path, striking from every angle. Alfred drowned in his own flood.
The Fifth Commander, Noxet Naval, appeared with leaf clones, illusions swirling. His leaf sword slashed, but I invoked Holy Immune, my holy field burning away the trick. Naval's body fell, lifeless, his illusions scattering like dust.
The Fourth Commander, Yatsu Natsu, brought fire. A blazing field engulfed the arena. My luck's minute had ended. Flames pressed closer. I circled with Holy Path, creating a vortex of speed. Yatsu controlled the fire with cryokinetics, twisting it to strike me. I raised my shield, absorbing the blast. In that moment, I struck from behind, stabbing deep. "My sword grows bloody," I whispered. "Let's finish this quickly." Yatsu fell.
The Third Commander, Kanish Kannan, smirked. "We are equals in level, but our skills make us superior." He invoked Tick Tick Tock, freezing time. His Aging Skill surged, meant to kill me. But Narrate explained: You used Lucky Looter. You stole not his weapon—but his heart. His skill cannot function without it. Kannan gasped, clutching his chest. He fell, dead before his power could strike.
The Second Commander, Gevan Atone, entered with a void aura. His Void Suck pulled at my lifeline, draining me. I invoked Last Minute Luck and Holy Recover, my immortal effect saving me. He unleashed Void Disk, unstoppable by any skill. I countered by throwing his own Void Suck against him. The void gate opened, dragging Gevan inside. His screams echoed as the gate closed forever.
The First Commander, Utham Manna, strode forward, laughing. "No enchant. No skill. Within three hundred meters, none can use powers. I am strongest in raw strength."
I raised my Holy Shield, turning invisible. My Holy Path created clones. My sword struck from every angle. Utham staggered, confused. "Impossible! My skill blocks yours! What monster are you?" My blade pierced his chest. He fell, silence claiming him.
The stadium dissolved. Eight commanders lay dead. Their armies had already perished. I stood alone, my companions unconscious, my sword dripping with blood.
Narrate's voice whispered. "You have defeated the Eight Commanders. The path to the Elite Four now opens. Catastrophe grows stronger. But beware—your companions plot against you, and the Demon King waits."
I looked at the castle in the distance. Its gates loomed, its aura suffocating. My mask pulsed, whispering catastrophe.
This is the path. No return. No mercy. Only destiny.
Thus, Dransart defeats the Eight Commanders, his catastrophic skills bending fate itself. The next trial awaits—the Elite Four Demons, guardians of the Demon King