CHAPTER 133: SHADOW ABILITIES~

Sylva’s grip tightened around the hilt of her sword as she stared at him, disbelief etched across her face.

"Do you... not feel the pain?" she demanded, voice wavering between outrage and confusion. "And wait did you just call me baby girl?"

The sheer nerve of him left her momentarily at a loss. She had struck with one of her strongest techniques her rainbow sword, forged entirely from elemental energy, capable of piercing even the armored hide of an eighth-ranked beast and he had stopped it. With one hand. Bare.

Not to say forty thousand times the pain sensitivity. With even the slightest scratch, most people would collapse screaming. Many would black out instantly. The pain from this kind of deep wound should have dropped him to the ground, writhing or unconscious.

Yet here he was.

And now, instead of grimacing in agony or showing any sign of weakness, he was smiling at her. A cocky grin stretched across his face as though he were enjoying himself.

"Ohhh, that isn’t the thing you should be worried about..." Razeal’s tone was maddeningly casual, his voice carrying a low confidence that dug under her skin. "You see... it’s my turn to attack."

His words made her stomach clench, but in the back of her mind the questions kept scratching. How? How did he stop that strike? Even with his bare hand bleeding, he hadn’t so much as flinched.

The truth, though she couldn’t know it yet, was this:

When her rainbow blade had clashed with him, he’d relied on his Obsidian Skeleton to absorb the brunt of the impact. It bore the cutting force without buckling.

But that was only half of it.

The force of her blow should have blasted him backwards, sent him crashing into the arena wall, maybe even broken his body from the sheer transfer of kinetic energy. Yet he had stood still. That was the work of his Flow Ability. He’d guided the massive surge of potential and kinetic energy through his body, channeling it harmlessly into the ground beneath his feet and even dispersing some behind him. To the spectators, it looked as though he’d simply absorbed the blow. In truth, he’d let it pass through him.

Without the obsidian skeleton, his mere B-rank physical stats wouldn’t have stood a chance. But with it? He could bleed from the skin and still grin in her face.

And now, apparently, he wanted to show her something.

"Let me show you... my Absolute Defence 2.0," Razeal said, his grin widening. "It matches yours but believe me... it’s better."

The ground beneath her seemed to... darken.

Sylva glanced down and froze. Her own shadow was flickering.

Her instincts screamed as the darkness warped and bulged, sprouting jagged, reaching shapes. Then they took form. Fingers. Dozens of them. Twisted, inky-black hands forcing their way up from the ground, stretching toward her neck from behind.

They moved like something out of a nightmare silent, fluid, inevitable.

Her wings flared instantly, massive and radiant in the dim light. "No!"

With a single powerful beat, she shot backward. The air vibrated in the space she’d just been standing, the sound of displacement sharp and violent. In less than a second, she was two hundred meters away, hovering high above the arena floor.

She kept her eyes on him, her breathing heavy. Her mind spun at impossible speed.

That black thing again. Where did it come from?

Her first thought was a magic spell. But no she hadn’t felt the slightest shift in mana, hadn’t sensed even a trace of particles moving in the air. Her perception was too refined to miss something like that.

Which meant... whatever it was, it wasn’t magic.

Her brows knit as she considered the possibilities, but she had nothing concrete. What had just happened?

While Sylva worked through the puzzle, high above her in the spectator stands, Selphira’s reaction was entirely different.

High above the battlefield, Selphira hovered in the air, her long coat fluttering in the wind. Her body was trembling not from cold or fear, but from the overwhelming rush of discovery. Goosebumps ran across her skin like a thousand tiny sparks.

"A... a new element..." she whispered, her voice caught between awe and disbelief.

Her sharp eyes remained locked on the black substance that had erupted moments ago, right behind Sylva’s back. This time, she hadn’t missed it. The first time it had appeared as a wall stopping Sylva’s rainbow sword strike she’d thought she might be hallucinating. After all, she had been too stunned by the absurd sight of Razeal stopping that world-cutting slash with one bare hand.

But now, seeing it manifest again, she knew it was no trick of her mind.

Selphira’s thoughts raced. She had already run the calculations the moment it appeared. She had felt no mana fluctuation, no arcane particles stirring in the air, no magical current shifting around them. For someone like her, with senses trained to detect the faintest whiff of magic, that absence was screaming.

Whatever he used it wasn’t magic.

And if it wasn’t magic, then there was only one possibility left.

"It’s... an element affinity," she breathed, voice almost shaking from the weight of the realization. "A brand-new elemental affinity... one that’s never been documented before."

The shock hit her so hard that she didn’t even spare a thought for how he had taken Sylva’s blow without blasting up or collapsing from the pain. The question of his endurance, his pain tolerance none of it mattered in that moment. Her focus was singular. Consuming.

That black gas, that viscous liquid, that solid mass it had shifted forms seamlessly, like it obeyed only his will. It had come straight out of the ground. No, more precisely it had emerged from a shadow.

Selphira’s hands were trembling so badly that her glasses kept sliding down her nose, and when she tried to push them back up, the motion only made them wobble more. She didn’t care. She left them crooked, her gaze glued to the battlefield.

"From shadow..." she muttered rapidly to herself. "Yes... I’m certain... it came from shadow."

The closest guess her mind could land on was Shadow Affinity. But even as she thought it, the term felt too small. Too simple. It wasn’t making much sense as it could be something else? Since she wasn’t fully sure of.. But from that it seems like it.

Her lips curled into a faint, hungry smile. "I need him... I need him so badly..."

While the arena’s chaos unfolded, the reactions from the spectators rippled through the stands like a silent wave.

Most people had the same general expression a blend of shock, disbelief, and that strange excitement that irritation but excitement which they hate from all within from watching something you know you’ll be telling stories about for years. But even within that shared reaction, there were layers and differences.

Maria and her mother were no exception. Their faces were stiff with astonishment, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, unable to comprehend what was unfolding below. Even among the chaos of battle, they could not look away from the duel.

Celestia sat in perfect composure. Outwardly, she was the calmest person in the colousium. Not a muscle in her face shifted, not a single gasp escaped her lips. But her stillness was deceptive her eyes were razor sharp, tracking every movement, every flicker of energy. She was not relaxed; she was studying. And whatever conclusions she was reaching, she kept them locked tightly behind her unreadable expression.

Nova was much the same calm on the outside, yet there was an almost predatory focus in her gaze. No one could tell what either of them was truly thinking. And perhaps that was for the best.

Then came Arabella. The moment the black material had appeared again, she had simply let out a sharp whistle.

"Now this," she murmured to herself, "is getting interesting."

Her tone was casual, almost lazy, but anyone who knew her well would see the slight gleam in her eye. She might have looked like she didn’t care, but the truth was she was more than a little impressed. Shocked, even though she’d never would admit it outright.

If there was one person in the stands whose reaction was far more intense than the rest, it wasn’t because of the strange new element or the black wall. It was Selena.

Her gasp had been sharp, almost painful to hear, when she saw Sylva’s sword connect with Razeal’s bare hand. She had been braced for the blow to tear through him, for him to stagger back, screaming in pain. Instead... he had stopped it. Injured, yes but standing.

But that wasn’t what shook her most.

Selena’s blessing was still active on Sylva. That meant the moment Razeal was injured, he should have felt it forty thousand times worse than the original wound. he should have been writhing in agony, barely able to breathe. Instead... nothing.

At first, she wondered if her skill had failed. But no the magic was still flowing, still doing exactly what it was meant to do. It was working.

And that was the problem.

If her blessing was functioning perfectly, and he still wasn’t reacting... it meant one thing.

He had felt the pain. He just didn’t show it.

Her shoulders trembled as she lowered her head. This wasn’t the relief she had expected to feel if her blessing hadn’t hurt him. Instead, it made her chest ache with something she couldn’t name. Why didn’t he react? What was wrong with him? What wasn’t he feeling pain? Or was he feeling pain?

Her thoughts tangled together until she couldn’t make sense of them anymore. All she could do was watch, and wonder, and feel that gnawing unease grow stronger.

Down in the arena, Sylva’s sharp green eyes were fixed on the strange, swirling black pool where she had stood just moments ago. It was thick and heavy, condensed into a strange, oil-like shadow. Small, crooked hands formed entirely from the darkness still reached upward from it, grasping at nothing now that she had moved away.

The thing didn’t disappear when she moved. That was wrong. A shadow should be tied to the body casting it. But this one remained rooted in place, like it had been severed from her and made into something entirely separate.

Unbeknownst to her, Razeal knew the truth though even he didn’t fully understand the limits yet. If he used too much of another person’s shadow, it could detach from their body entirely, becoming his. The moment that happened, the victim’s shadow would reform naturally beneath them, behaving as normal but the stolen shadow would remain wherever he left it, under his complete control.

And once he owned a shadow... it didn’t let go.

"Oh, no, you can’t run away from my attack," Razeal called across the arena, his voice carrying that infuriating, self-assured tone. His smirk made Sylva’s blood boil.

Her eyes narrowed. She had already put distance between them nearly two hundred meters and yet his confidence didn’t waver.

Then she felt it.

A flicker beneath her feet. A shift in the air that had nothing to do with the wind from her own wings. She glanced down and saw it a new shadow spreading from her feet, long and black against the pale arena floor.

Her own shadow.

The other one the severed one still sat in the center of the battlefield, its claw-like hands writhing.

Her instincts screamed, and in the same instant, jagged black spikes erupted upward from the shadow beneath her. They tore through the ground like spears, aiming straight for her chest and throat.

With a sharp snap of her wings, Sylva vanished in a blur of wind and lightning, reappearing dozens of meters away.

But even as she landed, the shadow beneath her stretched and shifted again, and more black spikes shot upward, forcing her to leap once more.

Her teeth clenched. "What is happening? Where are these attacks coming from?!"

It was as if no matter where she moved, the ground beneath her betrayed her, sprouting death from her own silhouette. It wasn’t just magic it was something far stranger. And the most terrifying part? She couldn’t sense the energy source. There was no telltale signature to follow, no current of power to trace back to him. It was as if the shadows themselves had decided to hunt her.

Above, Selphira’s trembling had only worsened. The black substance, the constant shifting of form between liquid, solid, and vapor it was the most terrifyingly beautiful thing she had ever seen. And the fact that it emerged from shadows only deepened her obsession.

"I call it... Automatic Defense Mechanism," Razeal whispered under his breath, his lips curling into a faint grin. "It’s like forcing your enemy to become their own worst enemy. What can they do? Keep running forever?"

"I mean... it’s your shadow shooting bullets at you. You can’t outrun it. You can’t hide from it. And the range?" He raised his hand and pinched his fingers together. "Almost zero. It’s always with you."

He tilted his head slightly, watching Sylva dance through the air in frustration.

How is she even supposed to defend herself?

Sure, she could throw up a wall of earth or some kind of barrier to block the attacks maybe the spikes wouldn’t pierce through. But the real question was... would she even do it? And even if she did, could she maintain that defense forever?

Her movements were swift, but her eyes told the truth. She was trying to figure it out. Not how to survive it which looks not so much problem for her.. was as what this was. The pool of shadow in the center of the arena was growing. Every time she moved, more of that tar-like darkness collected where she’d once been standing.

Razeal couldn’t help but admire it himself.

Honestly... these shadow abilities are absurdly convenient.

Attacking someone from their own shadow it was the perfect ambush. A cheat code, really. And the best part? It wasn’t even a high-effort skill. This was one of the simplest applications of shadow manipulation he’d ever thought of. All it required was a basic grasp of shadow control and close to medium range.

The only limitation was distance. At the moment, he couldn’t influence shadows that were too far away from him. But right now, in the confines of this arena, that wasn’t a problem.

He was still thinking about the next step when Sylva’s voice cut through the air.

"This ability of yours..." she said, hovering just far enough to avoid the grasp of his spikes. "It’s quite an annoyance. Attacking from someone’s own shadow? And what is this new affinity of yours?"

She spoke casually, but her eyes gave her away. They weren’t just curious they were fascinated. She had studied elemental affinities her entire life, and even in the middle of a duel, she couldn’t help herself. Part of her mind itched to tear apart this mystery and understand it.

But she was still in a fight. She couldn’t stop not to say he was attacking her not even letting her concentrate.

Her expression hardened, and her tone shifted, regaining its sharpness. "It’s not that complicated to counter, you know. In fact, it’s quite simple stay away from my shadow."

Her lips curled into a smirk. She looked him in the eye, her wings giving a slow, deliberate beat. "You seem proud of yourself with this little trick of yours. But I think you’ve forgotten something."

The wings behind her flared, vast and radiant woven from wind and crackling lightning. "These wings aren’t for show."

With one powerful flap, Sylva lifted higher, the ground dropping away beneath her. Her shadow on the arena floor shrank smaller and smaller with every meter she climbed.

From her new vantage point, she crossed her arms smugly. "And also from up here, I can attack freely. There’s not a thing you can do about it."

Without warning, she extended her hand, pointing a finger directly at him. A bolt of lightning snapped into existence and hurtled toward him, its path slicing through the air like a jagged spear.

Razeal tilted his head, smiling faintly. "Oh, you’re quite mistaken."

The bolt reached him but he shifted slightly, letting it tear past. His voice carried upward toward her as he spoke, calm and steady. "If you think you’re the only one with wings... you’re wrong."

The shadow behind him began to swell and twist. Darkness rippled outward, condensing into a massive pair of wings matte black, with an oily sheen that drank in the light around them. They were beautiful in a predatory way, each feather sharp and defined, spreading wider than Sylva’s own.

They didn’t shimmer. They didn’t glow. They devoured.

And as the final feathers formed, the air around him seemed to grow heavier, colder.

"Oh," Razeal added almost casually, "and you’re not the only one with weapons, either."

From the darkness at his side, something long and rigid began to take shape. A blade emerged straight, with no curve, almost unnaturally perfect at a ninety-degree angle. Its handle was plain, but the entire thing was forged from pure shadow, so black it was as if the air itself refused to touch it.

He bent his knees slightly, his body lowering into a launch stance.

Then

BOOM.

The shadow wings flared open and slammed downward, unleashing a shockwave that cracked the arena floor beneath him. In an instant, he was airborne, streaking upward like a meteor shot from the ground. The air rippled in his wake, a dark blur aimed directly for Sylva.

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3k words

Sorry guys, maybe only one Chapter for today. Honestly, I finished this one so slowly I almost fell asleep so many times in the middle. Barely stayed alive through it.

Well... today I won’t say much. I was just tired, so yeah... I slept most of the day. It was free, gomenasai 🙏

Though I won’t say I’m lazy 😭😭 but maybe... just a little today.

Thanks for reading, guys!

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