Lucien's crystalline blade flashed under the moonlight as he lunged, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye.
Char barely managed to bring his daggers up in time. The force of the impact sent a painful shock through his arms, and he stumbled back, his feet kicking up dust.
Lucien didn't let up.
He pressed forward, his movements now faster, sharper—empowered by the shimmering blue crystal covering his body. Every strike came with terrifying weight, his new weapon cutting through the air like a phantom.
Char dodged left, twisting his body just enough to let the blade skim past his ribs. He retaliated, slashing at Lucien's exposed side, but before his dagger could connect, a crystalline gauntlet intercepted the strike with an earsplitting clang.
Lucien smirked. "Too slow."
Then his gauntleted fist crashed into Char's stomach.
The force was like being hit by a warhammer.
The breath was ripped from Char's lungs as he flew back, skidding across the ground. His ribs screamed in protest, his body searing with pain. He dug his daggers into the dirt, slowing himself just in time to avoid smashing into a stone pillar.
He coughed, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
Lucien was walking toward him now, rolling his shoulders, his glowing eyes gleaming with confidence.
"Come on," he taunted. "You were so eager to challenge me. Is this all you've got?"
Char forced himself up. His legs wobbled, but he didn't fall.
He gritted his teeth, assessing.
Lucien had always been a powerful warrior—but with this ability, he was overwhelming. Every attack was backed by crystal-forged strength, and his movements were almost seamless, as if the blade was an extension of his own body.
Char had enhanced speed and agility from his own awakening—but it wasn't enough.
Not against this.
Lucien charged again, his blade arcing toward Char's chest.
Char ducked at the last second, feeling the weapon slice through the air above him. He countered with a precise strike, his dagger aimed for Lucien's wrist.
Clang!
The dagger hit the crystalline gauntlet once more—useless.
Lucien pivoted and delivered a brutal kick to Char's side.
Pain exploded through his ribs as he was sent sprawling again.
He barely had a moment to recover before Lucien was upon him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and yanking him to his feet.
A powerful punch crashed into Char's face.
The world blurred. His vision darkened at the edges.
Another punch.
Then another.
Lucien was pummeling him.
The crowd watched in stunned silence, the brutal scene unfolding before their eyes.
Char struggled, but his strength was fading. Blood dripped from his nose, his lip was split, and his right eye was swelling shut. He could barely feel his legs.
Lucien slammed him to the ground and placed his boot against his chest, pressing down just enough to remind him who was in control.
He leaned down, his voice dripping with quiet menace.
"This is what happens when you challenge me," he said.
Then, for all to see—
He raised his crystalline fist.
And brought it crashing down.
*
As Lucien's crystalline fist hurtled toward Char's face, time seemed to slow. The crowd barely had time to gasp, and Char barely had time to think.
Pain screamed through his body. He was battered, exhausted, and barely clinging to consciousness. But even as he lay there, his instincts roared—survive.
And then—something ignited.
A sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
Deep in his chest, it was as if a lock had been shattered, something long buried bursting free. The world around him blurred and distorted, his thoughts momentarily consumed by an overwhelming surge of understanding.
A name surfaced in his mind.
Author's Note.
The air crackled with power.
Just before Lucien's fist could land, something exploded into existence above Char—
A book, wreathed in searing blue fire.
It fluttered open, its pages turning rapidly as if carried by an unseen wind. The flames surrounding it danced wildly, casting eerie, flickering light across the battlefield. The very air trembled with the force of its presence.
Lucien froze.
The crowd, previously breathless with anticipation for Char's defeat, now gasped in shock.
"What—" Lucien barely managed, stepping back.
Char's remaining good eye snapped open, glowing the same haunting blue as the flames.
In that moment, his pain faded. His exhaustion vanished. His mind was clear, and he understood.
This was his skill.
Author's Note.
The power to steal.
Char rose to his feet, his movements no longer sluggish or pained. His daggers had long since been knocked from his grasp, but they didn't matter anymore. He lifted a hand, palm open, and the flaming book's pages stopped turning.
Then—
Three glowing glyphs seared themselves into the air before him.
Three names. Three powers. Three stolen gifts.
Crimson Armor.Crystalline Manipulation.A third glyph where there was an empty space.
Lucien's eyes widened in horror. "No—"
But it was too late.
Char's form erupted into motion, his body now encased in flickering, red-hued energy—the same Crimson Armor that had made Benjamin nearly unstoppable. His hands flexed, and from his palms, shards of glowing blue crystal formed into jagged, deadly blades—Lucien's own Crystalline Manipulation, but wielded with perfect control.
Char exhaled, his breath curling like smoke in the frigid air.
Then, with newfound strength—
He lunged.
*
Lucien barely had time to react before Char was upon him.
The ground cracked beneath Char's feet as he surged forward, twin crystalline blades forming seamlessly in his grip. The red glow of Crimson Armor pulsed around him, absorbing the impact of Lucien's desperate counterattacks. Every strike Lucien threw was met with impossible resistance—his fists barely denting the shimmering crimson energy shielding Char's body.
Lucien tried to retreat, tried to think, but Char was faster. His movements were sharper, more refined, inhumanly precise. The stolen power was no imitation—Char wielded Crystalline Manipulation as if he had trained with it all his life.
Lucien barely brought up a defensive crystal barrier before Char shattered through it with a savage downward slash.
He's using my power better than I am…
Lucien ground his teeth, forming a jagged greatsword in his grip and swinging wildly. Char sidestepped at the last moment, the blade barely grazing his cheek before—
CRACK.
Lucien's arm yanked back awkwardly. He felt pain flood through his limb like rushing lava. He gasped against the agony, momentarily meeting Char's gaze and halting.
He gasped in pain, stumbling backward, trying to summon another weapon. A crystalline spear, sharp as a dagger, formed in his palm—only to be knocked away an instant later as Char's blade carved through it like paper.
Lucien's breath was ragged. The once-imposing leader of the Valkari was now on the defensive, struggling to keep up.
Char was relentless.
Strike after strike, he pressed forward, not giving Lucien a moment to recover. A vicious spinning kick sent Lucien reeling, his vision swimming. He barely caught himself before falling, rolling to the side just as Char's blade impaled the ground where his head had been a moment prior.
The entire battlefield had gone silent.
The crowd, the soldiers, even Flint watching from the shadows—all stared in stunned disbelief.
Lucien was losing.
He knew it now.
Char's skill wasn't just powerful—it was overwhelming. He wielded stolen abilities like a perfected weapon, not just copying them but mastering them in seconds.
It wasn't fair…
Lucien panted, spitting blood onto the ground as he struggled to his feet. His body was battered, bruised, his once-proud crystalline armor now riddled with cracks. He felt his mana supply being to shake with emptiness. The more crystal items he made, the more drained be became.
Char, by contrast, stood tall. His breathing was steady, his stolen armor still gleaming. The fiery blue book hovered beside him, its pages smoldering as if eager for more.
But his eyes—
His eyes weren't filled with rage.
They were pleading.
Lucien hesitated.
"Lucien," Char said at last, voice firm but not unkind. "This doesn't have to end like this."
Lucien clenched his fists. "You think I don't know that?" he spat, voice raw with pain. "You think I don't wish things had been different?"
"Then stop." Char took a step forward. "This isn't you. It never was."
Lucien's vision blurred—not from pain, but from something deeper.
Doubt.
Guilt.
His father's words echoed in his head. The last words Rhun had ever spoken.
"Violence was never our way."
Lucien's hands trembled.
But before he could answer, a voice whispered from the shadows.
Low.
Silken.
Flint.
"Keep fighting, Chief."
Lucien froze.
Flint's eyes gleamed in the dim light, his smirk barely visible beneath his hood.
"You back down now, and you lose everything," he murmured. "You hesitate, and the humans will ruin everything we've built. Your people will lose faith in you. Your father died for nothing."
Lucien's heart pounded.
He looked back at Char, whose face had darkened at the sound of Flint's voice.
For a fleeting moment—Lucien almost let his blade drop.
But then—
He raised it once more.
"Then it ends like this."
With a cry, he charged.