In the past, the Symphony and the Root had operated as separate entities, both connected to Isaac in some way. The first one offered him a slowly ramping-up but limited enhanced battle prowess and constant warnings about danger. The other, meanwhile, was an extension of his arm, one that always whispered in his ear, teaching him how to strike harder, move faster, survive longer.

  With just that, the two were a great addition to his arsenal. He would have never made it this far without them.

  Yet… in the last few days of torturous training, Isaac had realized something important. The way they functioned wasn’t efficient. No synergy. Too much delay between the guidance they offered.

  So, he came up with a plan.

  What if the two could work together? What if they shared their instincts, senses, and feedback not just with him, but also with each other? What if they all—Isaac included—became one? No hesitation. No lag between guidance or warnings. Just a single entity fighting in tandem to survive.

  At first, it was just an idea, but as the days flew by, he slowly turned it into reality.

  The Symphony was the easiest to convince to help him. It was just a skill, a powerful one, but still a skill. Whatever Isaac ordered, it obeyed with just a little struggle.

  The Root, though, was another matter.

  It wasn’t just a skill, but a half-sapient weapon. It had a sense of self and, at first, simply refused to share its power with anyone but Isaac. How that made any sense, he had no idea. The Symphony was still a part of him, wasn’t it? And besides, the blade certainly hadn’t had such a problem when it forced the creation of Maker’s Shell.

  Still, the weapon resisted for two full days. It wasn’t until Isaac had been forced to fight ten opponents at once during a spar that it began to give in. Then, a promise of more bloodshed and slaughter shattered its remaining resolve.

  The rest, as they say, was history. As shown by what happened when Nak’Lin finally pounced on him with all eight blades.

  The Symphony surged and bled into the Root. At the same time, the Root roared back and offered its strength to the Symphony. When they merged, Isaac grabbed the amalgamation of power coursing through him and anchored it right to his Virus Core.

  The world slowed. The cheering of the crowd vanished. Only the alien before him remained.

  “Symbiosis,” he muttered. Not an official skill. Just a name he came up with during training.

  It definitely fit.

  The moment Nak’Lin reached him, his blades were no longer a blur that Isaac couldn’t track. The Root came up, moving faster than ever to block the first strike, then the next, and the one after that.

  A few blades still slipped through, leaving shallow cuts across his body, but Isaac ignored them. Only the opponent before him and the power of Symbiosis mattered now. With each passing second, his movements grew faster, sharper, more precise.

  But it still wasn’t enough.

  Even after more than a minute of ramping up, there was still too much to focus on, too many blades to keep track of. Isaac simply had no time to search for an opening. All he could do was defend, even as more and more of his blood dripped to the ground.

  Not gonna outlast him this way, he thought, chancing a look at the Viron counters above. He was in the lead by a few percent, but that wouldn’t matter soon. Not when the numerous cuts scattered across his body refused to regenerate at their usual pace.

  A skill of some kind. Just like what I have. Not good… Figures they would pick someone who could counter me.

  With a low growl, Isaac reached for his Viron. A low-powered Cursed Draw burst out of the Root, pushing back a few blades at once. Another swing bought him just enough time to trigger Burst, propelling him away from Nak’Lin.

  Only this time, the alien refused to leave him alone.

  A lone floating blade shot toward him like a bullet. Eyes narrowed, Isaac raised his sword to block, but the impact never came.

  Thanks to what had to be another skill, Nak’Lin switched places with the projectile mid-flight and descended upon him like a tiger. This time, though, all of his eight blades glowed with a pale silver light.

  Not good, Isaac realized when Cursed Draw failed to push the alien back. But maybe I can use this.

  Putting a bit more Viron into his next swing, he turned his blood into a thick crimson smokescreen, then used Burst again. Nak’Lin followed, switching with yet another blade.

  But Isaac didn’t give him the chance to land a hit. No, instead, he escaped again and again, dragging the alien all across the arena in a wild goose chase.

  All the while, his gaze flicked between the Viron counters and Nak’Lin’s movements, searching for anything he could use. Maybe a mistake. Or a weakness.

  Spoiler: There were barely any.

  Whatever skill Nak’Lin used to teleport, it took almost no Viron to activate. In fact, Isaac’s own Burst seemed to drain more, judging by the counters above. Worse yet, the alien’s technique wasn’t limited to teleporting exactly where his blade had been. No, he could appear anywhere within a certain radius from the projectile. Predicting or countering this was nearly impossible.

  Or so Isaac had thought at first. Then, Symbiosis gave him an idea.

  Can’t outlast you. Can’t outskill you. So I will just overpower you.

  Mana Surge combined with his blood and Viron just as another blade flew his way, ready to teleport its user. And Isaac, he didn’t run this time. He turned on his heel and met the incoming projectile with a glowing fist.

  Obliteration.

  A chunk of his Viron reserves vanished as blood consumed everything before him. The shriek of shattering metal filled his ears, and a grin found its way back to his face. It vanished a heartbeat later.

  When the crimson smoke cleared, Nak’Lin was still standing, guarded by a fan-shaped barrier made of blades and silver energy. The shield, however, wasn’t whole. Several blades lay shattered on the ground, giving Isaac an idea of just how large the barrier must have been before his skill struck.

  “A mighty ability,” the alien rasped as the broken blades reformed around him. “A shame it’s so predictable.”

  If Nak’Lin expected Isaac to take the bait, he expected wrong. He must have realized it too, as in a blink, he dashed forward again, his blades resuming their deadly dance.

  Annoying, Isaac grumbled inwardly, burning a bit more blood to enhance himself. Even so, the tip of another sword grazed his arm. He hissed and triggered Burst again. Time to see how you deal with this.

  Before his opponent could reach him, he transformed and shot into the sky. For a moment, it looked like Nak’Lin had no way to reach him there. Then, his body also shifted.

  Isaac had expected a beast of some kind. What emerged instead was a silver-gray wraith, a being made of countless shards of broken swords fused together. It had four arms and no legs. Worse still, it could fly. Oh, and the six floating blades were still there, following the being closely behind.

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  They really went all out to find someone who could beat me, huh? No matter. Let’s see if you can keep up.

  Without a sound, he dove.

  Countless Blood Daggers manifested around him and shot ahead. Nak’Lin deflected them all, while also dodging the crimson blur of feathers.

  That didn’t stop Isaac. He continued flying in circles, firing more low-powered projectiles. At this point, they cost almost nothing to create, so he didn’t hold back. He probed, struck from every angle, searching for a weakness.

  As expected, there were none. Even when Nak’Lin’s back was turned, his floating blades moved on their own to defend their master.

  All this led to quite the stalemate. Isaac couldn’t harm Nak’Lin, and Nak’Lin couldn’t reach Isaac, not with how slow his Legacy was. Even his blade-switching trick failed to create an opening.

  And our Viron is barely going down… Need to kick it up a notch. Hopefully, he doesn’t have too many tricks left.

  It was wishful thinking, but one Isaac had to entertain if he wanted to win. Outlasting Nak’Lin clearly wasn’t an option, not with his wounds refusing to heal. That left him only one path.

  Plan B.

  Overwhelming raw power.

  So be it. Freedom mode. Blood Moon.

  The dark void above bled red as his ultimate took shape. Not wasting a second, Isaac returned to the ground and transformed. A thrown blade shot toward him, but before it could reach him, he triggered Burst and grabbed half of his remaining Viron.

  “Crimson Cataclysm.”

  The arena flared red. A thunder rolled across the sky. The previously nonexistent wind picked up, ruffling Isaac’s barely there hair. Then came the rain—crimson rain.

  Countless droplets fell from the empty sky, each bursting apart the moment they hit the ground. Not that the explosions were particularly strong. No, not yet. For now, they were just a distraction.

  Let’s go.

  Burnout surged in his veins as Isaac charged. Nak’Lin, who was already back in his normal form, saw him coming. That said, with most of his floating blades busy deflecting the rain falling on his head, there was little he could do.

  Sparks scattered as their blades clashed. Empowered by Blood Moon and Burnout, Isaac went fully on the offensive for the first time, his strikes a blur that Nak’Lin struggled to match.

  Even when the six floating blades turned into ten, the odds didn’t change.

  Good. Isaac grinned, and blood followed after his next swing. One of the many blades shattered, so he pressed on, activating another Cursed Draw. This one, though, wasn’t normal, and judging by Nak’Lin’s widening eyes, the alien knew that.

  Sacrificial Cursed Draw.

  A tidal wave of blood slammed into a familiar fan-shaped barrier that wasn’t there a second before. The edges splintered, spiderweb fractures spreading across its surface. Still, it held.

  No matter. Isaac was ready.

  Obliteration.

  He drove his free hand into the shield. Blood slipped into the cracks and exploded, taking away the only barrier between them. Two of Nak’Lin’s surviving blades darted forward to defend him, but Isaac swatted them aside and launched an Obliteration-infused kick straight into the alien’s chest.

  Nak’Lin went flying.

  Isaac could have followed, but he didn’t. Instead, he ordered Crimson Cataclysm to direct all of its rain toward the fallen alien. At the same time, he transformed with Freedom mode active from the get-go.

  Crimson Fury.

  Ravens, easily over a hundred of them, joined the rain, diving toward Nak’Lin, who struggled to rise to his feet. Black ichor dripped from his chest, yet he still fought, still summoned more blades to defend against the continuous onslaught. He couldn’t move, though, couldn’t escape.

  Isaac would have smiled if he could.

  Time for the finale.

  Reverting to Hybrid mode, Mana and Viron bled into each other, forming a massive red-black spear right above his head. The nearby falling droplets shifted midair too, joining the growing construct. A few blood ravens followed, adding even more power to the mix.

  Once the spear grew to three times the size of his Legacy form, Isaac let it fly.

  Come on. Stop the battle. It’s over.

  But no winner was announced. Not even when the spear reached its target and covered a good chunk of the arena in blood and dust.

  Isaac landed heavily and transformed, his breath ragged as every skill except Symbiosis faded. He considered rushing into the cloud of dust and blood in the distance, but stopped himself. Why? The Viron counter above.

  Isaac: 13% — Nak’Lin: 11%

  His own number was to be expected. The alien’s, though… that was troubling.

  Just before his spear hit, Nak’Lin had been sitting at roughly sixty percent. And considering that there was no winner yet, the alien must have used some skill to survive the blast.

  Isaac’s grip over the Root tightened, his remaining energy stirring.

  Come on. Come on…

  Slowly, the dust began to settle, revealing a large silver dome formed from hundreds of swords stacked on top of each other. Isaac held his breath, but just then, the first blade shattered, starting a domino effect.

  The shards fell to the ground, revealing Nak’Lin’s Legacy to the world. Three of its four arms were gone. The last clutched a half-broken sword.

  Nak’Lin’s glowing green eyes met Isaac’s crimson gaze. Unlike before, there was something more than just indifference and boredom there.

  Anger. Maybe even hate.

  Not so confident now, are you? Isaac thought, drawing on the last of the liquid within his Blood Core. He didn’t use it. Not yet. He could wait. The alien was wounded and furious. He just might slip if given the chance.

  Unfortunately, despite the visible anger, Nak’Lin didn’t rush him. The skeletal warrior just lifted his shattered weapon high. The shards scattered around him began to tremble, then surged toward the broken blade, reforming it into something else.

  A greatsword, if one could even call it that.

  The thing was massive, easily taller than Isaac. It was also as thick as a club, while its edges became jagged and uneven from the countless fragments fused into its surface. Still, Isaac didn’t dare underestimate it. If those shards came from an ultimate, then this sword could easily be one too.

  No other way then, Isaac thought, glancing at Root of Blood. You ready?

  The blade pulsed in his grasp. He smiled.

  Maker’s Shell.

  Normally, this skill would have twisted him into a monster of blood. Isaac didn’t let it, though. Instead, he followed the few steps he had tried only once before.

  Blood spilled over his skin, forming a tight crimson suit of armor. His right hand liquefied, merging with the Root until sword and body became one. The veins of fire across the weapon lit up, while blood spilled over its edge.

  This was it, the compressed form of Maker’s Shell. A bit weaker, yes, but also much easier to use. And unlike the full version, it didn’t lock out his other skills.

  Isaac raised his blade, pointing it straight at the alien.

  Nak’Lin took the invitation and charged. Still in his Legacy. Still with only one arm and one massive blade.

  They met in the middle, a gasp leaving Isaac’s lips as their blades connected. He twisted his sword, deflecting the blow, then struck again, only to be met with another block. His knees trembled. He drew some blood from his body for Burnout.

  That evened out the odds, even if every inch of his being screamed in protest.

  Parry. Duck low. Step in. Block.

  It was a dance. A familiar one, even if a bit slow. Isaac lost himself in it, ignoring the growing pain, ignoring the fading Viron. Symbiosis helped, but he knew that soon, even it would vanish. It was only a matter of time now.

  Isaac: 7% - Nak’Lin: 6%

  After another clash that pushed them both back a couple of feet, he saw the wraith’s eyes narrow. Then, the massive greatsword began to glow bright silver.

  Isaac understood right away.

  Very well.

  He gathered all of the energy inside Maker’s Shell as well as the little bit of Viron remaining in his Virus Core. He left a sliver untouched, though. He couldn’t afford to run out. Not now.

  One last time. Mana Surge. Cursed Draw.

  The crimson armor peeled away from his skin, all of its power going straight to the Root.

  Isaac swung.

  Nak’Lin matched it.

  A wide arc of blood met a torrent of silver blades. For a single heartbeat, the two skills clashed, with no clear winner. Then, they both exploded.

  The shockwave slammed into Isaac, hurling him across the arena. He groaned as he hit the ground, the cracking of bones filling his ears. He ignored the noise and climbed to his feet, holding onto the fading pieces of Symbiosis.

  Can’t lose. Not now.

  His legs shook, his vision blurred. But he still moved, his eyes falling onto the lone figure in the distance. Nak’Lin, back in his normal form, one arm gone, the other still clutching a shattered sword.

  They both took a step.

  Then broke into a slow run.

  Only, they never reached each other.

  Halfway there, the light in Nak’Lin’s eyes flickered out. He fell and stayed there.

  Isaac dropped to his knees as the cheering of the crowd finally registered in his mind. This was followed by one crucial announcement made by Fisk.

  “And give it up for our winner! Isaac Walker of Earth!”

  Read 20 chapters ahead (Book 2 finished):