The Shadow Beast looked even more terrifying than before. The darkness around its faceless form deepened, the shadows thickening as if the creature itself was made from the void. It towered over Alan—nearly ten times his size. Compared to it, Alan was nothing more than a bottle at its feet.
The flaming sword in its hand was enormous, far larger than anything Alan could have ever imagined wielding himself.
The beast slowly raised the massive blade, lifting it so high it nearly touched the ceiling of the frozen ruins. Then, with a brutal motion, it brought the sword down in a straight vertical slash aimed directly at Alan.
The blade tore through the air with merciless speed, crashing down on the exact spot where he stood.
Alan barely avoided the strike.
He rolled across the icy ground, narrowly dodging the flaming blade as it slammed down, cracking the ice and shattering the frozen floor beneath it.
Without wasting a moment, he pushed himself back to his feet, his instincts guiding his movements. Pain shot through his body—his shattered teeth throbbed, and the wound on his abdomen burned fiercely—but he forced himself to endure it.
Gritting his teeth, he slid one of his blades back into his broken, blood-stained mouth, clamping it between what remained of his teeth. With his left hand, he tightened his grip on the other blade, preparing to continue the fight.
Within seconds of Alan's movement, the Shadow Beast swung again. The flaming sword in its left hand dragged across the icy floor in a wide horizontal arc, cracking the frozen ground as it tore toward him.
I have to block this, Alan thought.
He raised the blade in his left hand to defend, but the moment the flaming sword collided with it, the sheer force overwhelmed him. The impact sent him flying backward.
Alan slammed hard against the icy wall behind him.
The freezing surface bit into his skin as pain exploded through his body from the brutal fall. For a brief moment, the shock left him unable to move.
Alan shivered as the freezing air gnawed at his skin. Ignoring the cold and the agony coursing through his body, he quickly raised the blade in his left hand and pressed it against the deep wound on his abdomen.
That was exactly what he wanted.
The heat that had transferred to his sword from the Shadow Beast's flaming blade began to sear the wound shut.
"Arghhh… it hurts… it hurts really bad," he groaned, forcing the blade harder against his belly as the burning pain intensified.
As he continued, a sudden shadow and wave of heat fell over him. Alan slowly looked up.
Above him, the Shadow Beast's flaming sword was descending in a brutal vertical strike.
"Move… move!" Alan urged himself.
He barely managed to dodge as the blazing sword crashed down, splitting the frozen floor apart. The flames brushed against his forehead, carving a painful scar across his skin. Cracks spread across the ice like a spider's web beneath the blade.
When the Shadow Beast lifted its sword, chunks of ice came up with it. The intense flames instantly melted the ice into water, and the heat was so fierce that the water evaporated into steam in a heartbeat.
Alan ran.
His feet slammed hard against the frozen ground, pushing forward as if his body already knew what was coming next.
And it did.
Another flaming sword swept toward him in a wide horizontal slash.
Alan closed his eyes as he kept running across the icy floor, waiting—counting the seconds—until the attack was close enough.
I understand its pattern, Alan thought as everything around him seemed to slow.
Fragments of ice drifted through the air while he dashed across the circular arena. Unlike before, the Shadow Beast's attacks no longer felt impossible to read.
The beast is Rank C, he analyzed. But judging by the design and mechanics of those flaming swords… the weapon itself must be Rank A. Maybe even S Rank.
His eyes sharpened as he continued running.
I've noticed its movements.
The beast always struck vertically with the sword in its right hand… and horizontally with the one in its left. Every swing followed the same pattern.
And every time it attacked—
its left chest was left completely exposed.
That can only mean one thing, Alan realized.
Its core must be in the right chest… or the shoulder.
All he needed now was a single opening.
Just one moment that could lead him to victory…
—or to his death.
Alan heard it—the sharp creaking sound of the flaming blade slicing through the ice as it rushed toward him at tremendous speed.
The moment it came close enough, he spun around, his eyes snapping open. With perfect timing, he thrust the blade in his left hand through a narrow gap in the Shadow Beast's flaming sword.
But the beast didn't stop.
Its massive blade kept pushing forward, dragging Alan across the icy ground. The frozen surface scraped violently against his back as he was forced along with the attack.
This time the cold pierced deep into his body.
At the same time, the intense flames scorched his hands and legs.
"AHHHHRGH!" he screamed with all the strength he had left.
Yet even through the agony, his grip never loosened. His left hand clung desperately to the sword.
The blade clenched between his teeth continued to grind against what remained of them, cracking them further. Blood sprayed across his face and body as the strain grew unbearable, and he could feel his bones beginning to fracture under the brutal force.
[ LP: 13 ]
The beast finally flung him away.
Alan's grip on the sword slipped as he was launched high into the air, rising toward the top of the ruined arena. The blade in his left hand tore free from the Shadow Beast's flaming sword, leaving him drifting helplessly in midair.
The previous attack had drained nearly everything from him. His body hung limp, barely conscious, pushed to the edge of death.
"At this point… he's going to die," Michael Lee said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair as disappointment spread across his face in the office.
"Maybe I overdid it," he muttered. "He did try his best… didn't he?"
Michael's assistant folded her arms and turned her gaze away from the screen in front of her. She couldn't bear to look at Alan's condition any longer. Watching this unfold only made her see Michael Lee less as a human… and more as a psychopath.
Alan's body was in a horrific state.
His clothes were completely tattered, leaving him covered in blood and dirt. His jeans were torn down to the knees, and parts of his skin had peeled away while other areas were badly burned by the beast's flaming blade. It was a sight no one could endure for long.
Back inside the game, a voice suddenly pierced through Alan's fading consciousness.
'Stand up and fight.'
It was his father's voice.
Alan's eyes snapped open instantly. He could barely move his left hand or even his legs, his body refusing to respond.
Above him, the Shadow Beast raised its sword once more, preparing to bring it down in a brutal vertical strike—an attack so powerful that even it seemed dangerous for the creature to unleash.
Alan raised his left hand in a desperate attempt to block the attack, the second sword still clamped in his blood-soaked, toothless mouth. The flaming blade crashed against his weapons with overwhelming force.
The impact slammed Alan onto his back against the icy floor, shattering the frozen surface beneath him. Blood spilled from his mouth as the strength left his body. Both swords were knocked away—one slipping from his left hand, the other falling from his mouth—skidding across the arena and landing on opposite sides of him.
[ LP: 5 ]
The Shadow Beast immediately shifted its stance. Without hesitation, it extended its other flaming blade in a wide horizontal strike, rushing straight toward Alan.
He lay there, bleeding heavily across the frozen ground.
Pain surged through every part of his body—bones twisted, cracked, and broken. His strength was gone.
All that remained now… was death.
Alan tried to move, but the agony in his body made even the smallest motion unbearable. With trembling effort, he planted his left hand on the icy floor and began to crawl, dragging himself forward with just that one hand. Blood traced a dark path across the frozen ground as he moved. Tears welled and streamed down his face, regret crushing him. What have I done to deserve this? he thought. I just wanted to play a normal game… why this? Why me?
"I hate this… I hate this…" he whispered, the sound faint and broken, barely audible through his missing teeth.
Then the blade struck his right leg, severing it instantly. Flames licked his wounds, burning painfully as he cried out, his vision blurring. I give up… I'm sorry, Mum. I can't survive… I guess… it's over…
But then, his father's voice echoed in his mind: 'Fight, Alan… Fight until you die.'
"What?" Alan murmured, panic and disbelief overtaking him. "What… what can I possibly do?"
The voice returned, clear and commanding: 'Fight until your last breath. See this battle through to the end. Sometimes breakthroughs come in the heart of hopelessness—that's why we must keep fighting.'
At that instant, Alan saw his father's face—long brown hair, piercing crimson eyes—etched vividly in his mind. The memory ignited something deep within him, sharpening his focus faster than he thought possible.
The shadow beast's blade descended vertically, aiming for the final strike. Alan screamed silently, pushing his body just enough to narrowly evade it. No sooner had he moved than a horizontal slash followed, cutting through the icy air. Alan's eyes locked on it, his father's face burning in his memory, guiding his every reflex.
"I won't die—not now. I'll survive, I'll clear this game," Alan screamed silently in his mind as pain tore through his shattered body. Ignoring the agony and the blood streaming from his scattered bones and severed right leg, he forced himself upright, gripping one of his blades with trembling strength.
The shadow beast's flaming sword descended, slicing into the ice beneath him, burning his flesh almost to the point of death.
[LP: 1]
As the sword rose high for another strike, Alan seized the moment. This is my ace, he thought, forcing his left hand into motion. The three-two-five strike: three straight swings forward, two diagonal cuts, and five unpredictable, lightning-fast strikes—his final, desperate gambit.
The crimson edge of his blade flared bright red, the tip still pitch black. He pointed it straight at the beast. I'm going to win… I won't die—not again! he thought.
DING!
[ You have successfully initiated the Dual-Blade Combo ]
[ Effect: One blade strike delivers double attack. Two blade strikes deliver quadruple attack ]
DIE! Alan screamed in his mind as he drove his blade toward the beast's right chest. The flaming sword came down vertically, grazing past him but severing his left leg, leaving him legless.
He closed his eyes, focusing entirely, and drove his blade through the beast's core, shattering it with double force. The strike propelled him downward, crashing to the icy ground with full speed.
[ LP: 0 ]
DING!
[ You are the Verdict ]
[ You have successfully defeated the Shadow Beast ]