The system didn’t wait.
[Optional Advancement: Accepted]
[Commencing Rank XXX Trial]
The world broke apart.
Lucian felt the floor of his quarters dissolve, the air stripped from his lungs. He wasn’t falling. He wasn’t rising. He was unmade. For a breathless second, he was nothing but thought.
Then the void rebuilt itself around him.
He stood on a battlefield carved from shattered moons, glass plains floating in black oceans. Stars bled light from gashes in the sky. The air was thick, humming, heavy enough that even his skin tingled with resistance.
[Restriction: No Items. No External Aid.]
[Condition: Survive the Onslaught. Reach the Final Opponent.]
Lucian exhaled, low and steady. His body was still torn from the last fight, his ribs aching, his arm scarred with fresh cuts. But his eyes—those burned brighter than the broken stars above.
From the dark edges of the plain, they came.
Beasts taller than buildings, hide plated with obsidian armor, their eyes burning white. Their bodies twisted like nightmares—jaws splitting sideways, arms sprouting too many joints, tails bristling with spikes.
Lucian lifted his hand. Space warped at his fingertips. "Alright. Let’s start."
The first swung claws that could shatter mountains. Lucian folded space and reappeared above its skull, palm down. The air crumpled—Gravity Sever. The beast’s head smashed into the ground, its body thrashing as its spine bent the wrong way.
Two more lunged from behind. He snapped his fingers—Chrono Slow. The world around him bent, their claws dragging like syrup through air. He walked between them, calm, then opened both palms. Rift Rend tore reality open in two brutal arcs, slicing the beasts apart as their frozen motions caught up and they collapsed in pieces.
The ground split. Ten more climbed out.
Lucian’s jaw tightened. He spread his arms. Space screamed. Time howled. The battlefield folded in half like paper, crushing five instantly. The rest charged through the rift-storm, their roars shaking the broken moons above.
Lucian darted forward, his body bending reality itself with every step. A claw grazed his back—he twisted midair, reversed the flow of gravity, and slammed the beast into its pack. They collapsed in a heap of bones and broken armor. He crushed them with one palm downward.
But more kept coming.
Dozens. Hundreds. Each stronger than the last.
Lucian’s breathing grew sharp, his body a blur of Fold Steps and collapsing rifts. His hands dripped with blood—not theirs, his. The recoil of using pure spacetime raw was tearing him apart, but he didn’t stop.
Every strike had to count.
A leviathan rose from beneath the glass sea, wings blotting out the broken stars. Its maw glowed with red lightning, charging to swallow him whole.
Lucian crouched, teeth grit. Space bent under his boots. "Rift Crash."
He launched upward, body folding through a dozen points in an instant, appearing above the leviathan’s skull. He slammed both hands down. Space imploded. The beast’s head cracked like shattered crystal, blood geysering upward into the void.
The body collapsed, shaking the battlefield.
Lucian dropped to one knee, coughing blood. His vision blurred, his veins burning like molten fire. He dragged in air through clenched teeth. "Still standing."
[First Phase Complete]
[Phase Two: Elite Opposition Deployed]
The battlefield shook harder.
Figures rose from the dark. Not beasts this time. Warriors.
Armored, disciplined, weapons forged of light and bone. They moved like soldiers, ranks aligning. Their auras pressed heavy—each one carried the weight of an SSS beast at least. Rank XXX monsters.
Lucian smiled, faint and bloody. "Finally."
The first swung a greatsword, its arc splitting the void in half. Lucian ducked under it, his hand carving across. Time inverted—the soldier’s body moved backward against its own will, opening its chest. Lucian slammed his fist through, folding space inside the wound. The warrior exploded.
Two more struck from the sides, spears glowing with burning sigils. Lucian stomped once. The ground fractured upward, shards of space lancing into their bodies. They screamed static, collapsing into broken shells.
Arrows rained. He folded sideways through them, twisting midair, then bent time forward—every arrow accelerated past him, impaling the soldiers behind instead. Their armored bodies jerked and fell.
But the ranks didn’t thin. More pressed forward, endless. Blades, hammers, axes, each weapon carrying weight that could crack worlds.
Lucian’s cloak tore as a blade grazed his ribs. He snarled through his teeth, blood spraying. He thrust his hand up—spacetime collapsed into a swirling storm above, a singularity shrieking. Dozens of soldiers were ripped upward, their armor shredding as they were crushed into dust.
Lucian’s chest heaved. His body screamed in pain, every nerve raw. But his eyes... sharper than ever.
He bent the battlefield itself. Islands of glass folded inward. Gravity split into a hundred currents. Soldiers stumbled, crushed, torn apart by their own footing. Lucian moved through them like a ghost, palms tearing, fists collapsing. He was blood, blur, and distortion.
The glass plains were gone, reduced to fragments drifting in the void. His body was wrecked—blood dripping from his jaw, cloak shredded, hands trembling.
Then the system pulsed again.
[Final Phase: Initiating]
[Opponent Approaching]
Lucian staggered upright. His breathing was ragged, his vision blurred, but his stance didn’t break.
A shape stepped forward.
Not a beast. Not a soldier.
Lucian froze. His blood ran colder than the void around him.
The figure was his mirror, but not exact. Taller. Broader. His own face—but sharper, hungrier. His eyes burned violet-gold, brighter than his own, and his aura pressed like a mountain crushing the stars.
Lucian knew power. He had seen gods, monsters, titans. This was different. This was... beyond.
The system whispered, almost reverent.
The other Lucian tilted his head. His lips curved—not into a smile, but something colder.
Lucian’s jaw clenched, blood dripping onto the fractured ground. "Then you’ll see how wrong you are."
The figure raised its hand. Space bent without effort, the battlefield screaming, time cracking like glass.
Lucian steadied his stance. Every nerve burned. Every muscle shook. But his eyes locked on his own reflection, steady, unflinching.
The void between them rippled.
The trial had saved the worst for last.
And Lucian was about to fight himself.