Chapter : 1379

But four was enough. Four gates gave him the strength to damage a golem. It gave him the speed to dodge a laser. It gave him a fighting chance.

He lay there, letting the energy settle. The pain receded to a dull ache, a reminder of the power he now held.

He looked over at the tent. Mina was still inside, safe. He had done this for her. For the mission. For survival.

"I am a monster now," Lloyd thought, looking at his hand again. "A human monster. But that's what it takes to kill the real ones."

He sat up. He was exhausted, but his mind was clear. Strength was good. But strength without skill was just flailing. He was strong now, but he was still just a brawler. He needed a technique. He needed a way to apply this massive power without just punching things.

He opened the System Shop again. He had coins left.

"Administrator," Lloyd thought. "I have the hammer. Now sell me a scalpel. Sell me a sword art that no one has seen in a thousand years."

The shop interface flickered. A new list appeared. Lloyd scrolled down, his eyes scanning the descriptions.

And then he smiled.

"Perfect," he whispered. "Confusing. Deadly. And very, very unfair. I'll take it."

The night was far from over. And Lloyd Ferrum was just getting started with his shopping spree.

Lloyd stood in the center of the clearing. The fire was just a pile of glowing coals now. The moon was high, casting silvery light through the trees. It was the perfect setting for ghost stories, or for learning how to become a living nightmare.

He held a simple practice sword he had carved from a branch. It was balanced poorly, but it would do.

He had purchased the [Obsolete Sword Art: The Ten-Armed Asura].

The name was dramatic. Lloyd liked dramatic. But the description was what sold him. It wasn't about swinging a sword fast. It was about deception. It was about convincing the universe that you had more limbs than you actually did.

"Okay," Lloyd muttered. "Let's try this. Stance one."

He closed his eyes. The knowledge of the art flowed through him. It wasn't just muscle memory; it was a mental state. He had to fracture his intent. He had to want to strike from ten different directions at the exact same time.

He opened his eyes. He focused.

He swung the sword.

To a normal observer, it would have looked like a blur. But to Lloyd, it felt weird. He felt a phantom sensation. He felt arms that weren't there extending from his shoulders.

Whoosh.

Suddenly, the air around him shimmered. For a split second, it looked like he had three arms. Two were ghostly, translucent afterimages. One was real.

"Not ten," Lloyd critiqued himself. "Three. I am a Three-Armed Asura. That is less impressive. That sounds like a mutant starfish."

He tried again. He channeled his Void energy into the movement. He synced his breathing.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.

Five arms. Five swords slashing through the air. It was disorienting. He could see the phantom blades cutting the air. They looked real. They cast shadows.

"The trick," Lloyd realized, reading the mental manual, "is that I decide which one is real at the moment of impact."

This was the terrifying part. He could swing a phantom sword at an enemy's neck. The enemy would block. But at the last millisecond, Lloyd could switch reality. The phantom sword would pass through the block, and the real sword would materialize in a different arm, stabbing the enemy in the stomach.

It was quantum swordsmanship. It was cheating.

"I love it," Lloyd grinned.

He practiced for an hour. He sweated. He stumbled. It was mentally exhausting to keep track of ten potential limbs. It gave him a headache right behind his eyes.

But slowly, he got it. Seven arms. Eight arms.

Finally, he hit the flow state. He spun, his body moving with the enhanced speed of the Fourth Gate.

SHING.

Ten arms fanned out around him like the petals of a deadly flower. Ten swords gleamed in the moonlight. He looked like a god of war.

He slashed at a bush. All ten swords moved. The bush didn't know which one to dodge (mostly because it was a bush).

Lloyd focused. That one.

The third sword from the left solidified. It sheared through the branches cleanly. The other nine passed through like smoke.

"Yes," Lloyd hissed. "That's it."

Chapter : 1380

He had the strength. He had the technique. Now he just needed to put it all together. He needed to combine the raw power of the Demon Gates with the deception of the Asura Art and the mobility of his Void Steps.

"The ultimate combo," Lloyd thought. "I need a name for it. The 'Blender'? No. The 'Food Processor'? No. I'll work on the name."

He wiped sweat from his brow. He was tired, but he couldn't stop. He had to master this. Wilfred had a laser. Lloyd had to be the thing the laser couldn't hit.

He took a deep breath. "Again. Faster. More arms. More confusion."

Lloyd began to move. He activated [Void Steps].

He vanished.

He reappeared ten feet away. But he didn't just reappear. He arrived with the [Ten-Armed Asura] active.

To any observer, it would look like he teleported and exploded into a whirlwind of blades.

Flash-Slash. Flash-Slash.

He bounced around the clearing. Blue sparks from his Void steps mixed with the silvery blur of the phantom swords. It was a beautiful, chaotic dance.

He imagined he was fighting a Curse Knight.

Teleport behind.

Deploy ten swords.

Knight blocks high.

Switch reality to low sword.

Slice legs.

He imagined he was fighting the Golem.

Teleport to the knee.

Gate Four Strength.

Ten swords strike one point.

Impact.

He was moving faster than he ever had. The world was a blur. The wind roared in his ears. He felt powerful. He felt dangerous.

But he also felt the strain. His muscles were burning. His mana reserves were draining. This style was a sprint, not a marathon. He had maybe three minutes of this peak performance before he collapsed.

"Three minutes is enough," Lloyd panted, coming to a stop. "In a duel, three minutes is an eternity."

He dropped to his knees, gasping for air. The phantom arms faded. The branch-sword in his hand was splintered from the force of his swings.

He looked up at the moon. He was ready. Or as ready as he could be.

He had the intel. He knew about the Quartz. He knew about the Golem Heart's history.

He had the power. Four Demon Gates open.

He had the skill. The Asura style.

"We can do this," Lloyd whispered. "We can take him."

He stood up and walked back to the fire. It was dying. The night was ending. The sky to the east was turning a pale grey.

He looked at the tent. Mina was still asleep. She had no idea that while she dreamed, he had turned himself into a human meat-grinder.

"Sleep well, Librarian," Lloyd thought. "Tomorrow, we go to war."

He sat down on his log and picked up the splintered sword. He tossed it into the embers. It caught fire, flaring up for a moment before turning to ash.

He felt a strange sense of calm. The panic was gone. The uncertainty was gone. He had a plan. He had the tools. Now, all that was left was the execution.

He closed his eyes, resting for the first time that night. He visualized the fortress. He visualized Wilfred. He visualized the purple beam.

"I'm coming for you," Lloyd promised the darkness.

Lloyd stood in the absolute silence of his personal pocket dimension. It was a white void, empty and endless, a perfect contrast to the chaotic storm of violence he was about to unleash. He adjusted his collar, checked his sword, and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to ride a horse this time. He wasn't going to sneak in through a sewer. He was going to knock on the front door. Or rather, he was going to teleport into the living room and kick the furniture over.

"Target location: Wilfred’s Fortress. Main Courtyard," Lloyd visualized the destination in his mind. The white void rippled. He took a step forward, not through space, but around it.

The world shifted. One moment, he was in nothingness; the next, the smell of ozone and burning mana hit him like a physical slap. He was standing in the center of the fortress courtyard in Ramos. The air was thick with tension. Soldiers were running back and forth, shouting orders, unaware that the enemy was already inside the perimeter.

Lloyd didn't draw his sword immediately. He just stood there, letting his presence be felt. He looked up at the central tower where the purple beam had originated. Standing on the balcony, looking down at the chaotic preparations, was Lord Wilfred. The man looked like a conductor getting ready for a symphony of the apocalypse. He was wearing robes embroidered with quartz dust that glittered in the magical light.