All around Earth and The Realm, people tuned in from everywhere to watch. There was not a single bar that did not display the projections from the tournament. was watching it live. Whoever was filming had been censoring a lot of the gory parts live. Making it palatable for most broadcasts. It was a masterclass of editing. Never before had such a brutal fight at the dragonslayer level been depicted so clearly before. That alone would have drawn billions to watch.
People stopped weddings to tune in. Even at funerals, there were people that said: ‘Hey they would want us to watch this’ and turned back to their phones.
–
Linda Robinson squeezed her husband’s hand.
“I hope Ryan’s not down there in that city.”
Robert Robinson squeezed his wife’s hand back.
“The Witch Tyrant is overlooking it. I’m sure she’ll keep everyone safe.”
–
Clara watched from the new apartment Ryan had rented. His peaceful body lay sleeping on the couch. She couldn’t help but keep looking back and forth, between the livestream on the screen and Ryan’s peaceful face.
Half of the screen was the Witch Tyrant throwing a curse to end all curses at Ryan.
Half of the screen was of Artigan laughing like a madman.
“Oh god, Ryan.”
Clara looked up, looking for comfort herself. She only found Milock furiously typing away on his laptop.
She lost her mind.
“Milock! What are you doing! Your friend is out there suffering and you're just on your laptop, typing away!”
Milock lost his shit too. He slammed his fist onto the glass table, startling her.
“What do you mean what am I doing?! I’m doing the only thing I can do!”
On Milock’s screen was a realmnet private messaging channel:
Jecharim had somehow been invited to Chief Ami’s watch party. It was an odd feeling and, after his kidnapping, he felt like he owed it to her to show up.
The other enforcers were having a ball.
“Go get him, Witch Tyrant! Whooo!”
“Yeah! This is what happens when you mess with The Realm!”
Chief Enforcer Ami seemed less than enthused. She looked a little uncomfortable at the display of a massive screaming skull heading down to smite a little blacklister in the fourth realm. She could tell that something felt off.
She noticed his gaze. “Jecharim, is something wrong? You’ve been a little quiet.”
“Ah? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Barry sat hunched over in his dinky apartment, looking at a tiny screen. He had refused the Clara girl’s request to have him watch the tournament together. The orc had a bad feeling about all of this and he didn’t like to show his emotions outside of combat.
Half the screen was taken by the Witch Tyrant. Her mask of righteousness hiding a deep seated madness. Two broken people facing off each other.
…For the first time Barry regretted not choosing to become Realmbound. The weary ex-[Berserker] stood up and stretched his back.
The orc headed for the door, then took one more glance at the screen. He took one more look at Ryan’s face and changed his mind.
–
Seffara the Sapphire was tied up in an alleyway in the city of Defiance. Magical bindings holding her down. She glared hatefully at an elf with a mohawk.
“Rodstead you little punk! You think coming back from the dead is going to get me to forgive this? Get these things off of me!”
“Chill it Seff. What are you going to do? Charge in there and save the villain Artigan? Take that hex for yourself? You’re outta your mind granny.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks.” Seffara spat, she then turned to the hooded dragonslayer, the one that had actually managed to bind her. “And you, who are you to be so cowardly here while an innocent kid suffers like that?”
The dragonslayer sighed, then took off her hood.
Cinnabon, [The Magelancer Extraordinaire] looked back at Seffara the Sapphire. For a moment the great heroine of Sapphire paused.
“”
“I’m already Fallen, Seffara. The Witch Tyrant can wave her hand and make me disappear. I’m just making sure you don’t end up in the same place as us.”
“Fuck’s sake, Cinn. .” Seffara gritted her teeth, she stared at the screaming skull in the sky, Artigan still laughing like a madman. “You think I’ll stay silent?”
[The Magelancer Extraordinaire] sighed. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that. I’m sorry Seffara. If I have to, I will keep you locked up until everything is over.”
Rodstead just clicked his tongue and stared at the sky.
“Why are we all doom and gloom, anyway? Maybe you should have a little faith.”
Both of them just stared at the elf with the mohawk. Then followed to where he was looking. Artigan was laughing like he had been broken, a singular sword in hand.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Rodstead just whistled, he saw something else in the little punk.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen a crazy [Rebel] like that. He’s madder than a [Berserker] that’s had a good fight taken away from them.”
–
Gamielle stared at the screaming skull in the sky. Her lower lip trembling.
“What have you done mother?”
If there was anything that could break her heart, it was this. A hex like that could only be crafted through truly dark deeds. It was everything she had dreaded come true. Her mother, her hero, had completely descended into madness.
She could do nothing but grit her teeth here. Her mother was far too focused on every single thing on the board, making sure nothing would get in the way. None of the other Tyrants could get here in time, not with all of the portal allocation used up.
A perfect checkmate.
Gamielle clenched her fists. She turned to the only piece that was allowed to make a move.
“Give me an opening, Ryan. Give me something, I can use.”
–
Ryan’s eyes blazed under the screaming clouds of a tortured hero’s soul. He could feel it with his aura, whatever the cloud was made of, there was something actually alive in there. If there was evidence for the Witch Tyrant’s sins, that she had gone long past the point of forgiveness, it was screaming down at them, for all to see.
He held his shattersword with his right hand and slapped the blade with his left.
”
The skill imbued itself onto each of the little fragments that made up the blade. Ryan could feel the Witch Tyrant’s sneer. It did, indeed, seem like a stupid gesture.
[Volatile Antimagic Throw] needed an imperfect mana structure to latch onto. A tenth tier ritual cast by the Witch Tyrant herself was going to be one of the last things that had any sort of imperfection in it.
He raised his sword in the air and began to cycle his aura.
The blade grew over eight times larger. A sea of red with sparkles of the blade’s fragments, connected in white lines. A constellation matrix.
Ryan took in a breath.
He activated [Unrelenting Aura of Intimidation]. It spiked the fear in the city below him. Aided by the giant skull in the sky, the blood splatters on the city barrier and the monstrosity in the cage of light. He took that fear and .
The sword grew until it was fifteen times bigger than the original. It was still nothing more than a lantern in a world of darkness.
The music was beating. The choir of string instruments and drums rising up.
Then Ryan called upon the class of the Aura Tyrant. His laughter grew.
For a moment, everyone was entranced at the sight of Artigan. A singular robed [Rogue] defying the heavens as it came screaming down on his head.
His arm rattled, the circulatory structure straining from the aura that was cycling through it. It was, indeed–just a little bit too much. The sword continued to grow. Aura bulging through the celestial matrix.
It was too much for the shattersword. System enhanced [Major Durability] or not. Realm five Epic of an arm or not. The aura being drawn from the city of millions was just too much.
The Witch Tyrant looked on, a mask of false apathy. Her head tilted slightly.
And Ryan laughed harder.
–
The logical choice would have been to keep training with the King’s orb. Experience more of what the king had done with aura and use it to power level [Resource Overdrive].
And had plundered a precursor skill.
–
[Ambient Resource Utilization: Aura]
The mana variant was a skill that [Mages] dreamed of obtaining. It was merely… a precursor skill to the Epic that One-Eyed Rick had.
All the aura Ryan was siphoning from the city, stretched towards the sky. It settled around the entirety of his sword. As it currently stood, it was just raw undirected aura. It was large and terrifying but it was diffuse, unfocused. If he tried to process it into his arm or sword, both would break. It could not do much on its own, it merely… looked intimidating.
As the skull descended faster, as the music reached its peak, blasting Latin words out, it no longer looked like Artigan was as hopeless before.
Which was insane on its own. No longer did Artigan look like he was laughing at his fate. It sounded like Artigan was laughing at the Witch Tyrant, laughing at the screaming skull. Defying them in a true challenge.
Ryan laughed at the world that had made a monster out of one of the most admirable people in the world.
For a moment, to both worlds, Artigan had become a force of nature.
And that was when he activated his skill.
[AURA OVERDRIVE]
All of the ambient aura flew into his arm and blade. The skill expanded both his capacity for and utilization of aura, far beyond anything anyone at his realm could do. When it kept going, it did something Ryan only dared hope would happen.
Like what had happened to Rick’s mana ritual. [Resource Overdrive] gave him perfect clarity on utilizing the aura based array etched into his blade. Then the skill did something he hadn’t realized was possible.
The blade was no longer a lantern, it was a surging inferno in the dark.
Ryan raised his left hand, right below where the pommel of his one handed sword was. Echoing a stance he’d practiced for millions of times.
And slashed downwards.
The enormous torrential blade of aura met the forehead of the screaming skull. The gas that it comprised of caved inwards, unable to stop the blade of aura. But it was gaseous in composition, it continued to rush down despite the parting of the skull.
[RESOURCE OVERDRIVE: CANCEL]
The mass of aura, unable to hold its shape, exploded out of the celestial matrix. It rushed out in all directions. Overwhelming the cloud’s tortured soul with a torrent of emotions.
And in the middle of it all, were sparkling fragments of his sword. Completely overloaded with more power than even [Major Durability] could handle. All it was now was a mass of volatile energy that could no longer hold its shape.
Where Ryan had imbued into the pieces a simple skill, [Volatile Antimagic Throw].
It was a skill that preyed on unstable mana structures, and while the original binding curse was likely too stable of a mana structure. That had only been the case before it had its structure caved in and scattered by a torrent of aura.
This was just like in Lazhen, where the spear of volatile mana had been wrapped up by his aura.
All of it had been a delivery mechanism to destabilize the mother of all hexes.
The skull exploded in the sky. Taking with it the curse, the tortured soul and the gray skies of Sector Four. The sun beamed down on Artigan and the city of Defiance. The Witch Tyrant’s curse no more.
The music was louder than ever. It reached beyond the peak, past the drums of war, past the Latin. The choir sang his name.
“!”
–
…
As the world settled down and the explosion of smoke poured out around them, Artigan spread his arms, grinning at the Witch Tyrant. Only the handle of his shattersword remaining in his hand.
The fabric of reality rippled for the slightest moment around Artigan.
Everyone at the highest realm had an understanding of what was happening. Even Pinkie in the cage, in her own moment of enlightenment, raised her great head to bear witness.
The greatest of this generation of fourthers stood below, unable to do anything but watch as Artigan reached heights they hadn’t dreamed was possible. Not at the fourth realm.
The world itself started to acknowledge the feat.
Title: Undisputed Apex of the Fourth Realm (Quasi-Legendary), obtained!
Legendary Title Upgrade Quest, obtained!
Ryan laughed.
END OF BOOK 2: The Undisputed Apex
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