The arena was silent but alive with tension. The battlefield bore the scars of the duel—broken stone, fractured wards, flickering protective barriers struggling to hold. Dust drifted across the air like the aftertaste of violence.
Cassian Drexhart, hair wild, lips drawn back in a snarl, stood defiant. His family's noble crest glowed across his chest, pulsing with unstable energy. Every vein on his arm bulged as mana surged through him in unnatural currents.
Cassian: "You think you can humiliate a Drexhart? I'll grind your pride into ash!"
He raised his sword high, embedding the tip into the earth. The ground cracked, a circle of glowing azure sigils searing into existence beneath him. The symbols flared brighter, feeding his body with stolen vitality.
Above him, six translucent blades of pure mana formed like the wings of a wrathful archangel. Lightning crackled across them, arcs burning blue into the sky.
Crowd:"He's activating the Drexhart Phantom Mirage Technique!""That art drains life-force! He's risking his body!""Is he insane?! He could die!"
Cassian launched upward, propelled by the storm at his back. The six blades aligned with him, ready to spear through Eron in a storm of aristocratic fury.
But Eron did not move.
His grip on his weapon was steady, his breathing calm. His eyes, however, burned with an inner light. The faint shimmer of shadows coiled around him, twisting upward like a storm of ink ready to consume the sky.
As Cassian descended, fury and power behind him, Eron lowered his katana slightly. His lips moved—not shouting, not roaring, but uttering one word with chilling clarity.
Eron (calmly, yet echoing):"Bankai."
The syllables rolled through the arena like thunder under water. At first soft, then magnified, as though the word had been branded onto the very bones of reality.
"Bankai… Bankai… BANKAI…"
It echoed through the walls, through the stands, through the very sky above. Every person felt the weight of it in their chest—the heaviness of something ancient, forbidden, absolute.
The very barriers protecting the audience trembled. Some weaker students clutched their ears, not from sound, but from the spiritual pressure that word carried.
The ground erupted beneath Eron. A black circle spread out from his feet, glowing red inscriptions burning into existence like an executioner's seal. The air thickened, wind spiraling upward into a cyclone.
His katana dissolved into shards of shadow and reformed, longer, darker, lined with crimson veins. His armor shifted—phantom scales layering across his arms, shoulders, and chest as if he wore the shroud of a war god. His presence expanded until it swallowed the arena whole.
System Notification▸ Bankai: Second Phase – Phantom Sovereign Form
Passive Effects:– Enemy speed reduced by 30%– Continuous mana decay (8% per second)– Phantom Aftershock: Every strike produces a delayed spectral slash
Active: Judgment Arc – Execution Bloom
The crowd was frozen.
Even nobles in their private booths leaned forward in disbelief.
"His… aura is crushing the air itself!""This isn't just a skill—this is a transformation!""That word… that word won't leave my head…"
But Cassian refused to relent.
Cassian (screaming): "I'll end you before you can breathe!"
He dived like a falling star, six spectral blades spinning around him. The sky ripped apart, blue streaks descending with him. His final attack was suicide-tier—a strike that could end a small army if unleashed outside the barriers.
The crowd rose, holding their breath.
Eron stepped forward, calm in the storm. His body blurred, vanishing from the ground in a streak of black light.
In the next instant, he appeared above Cassian, katana drawn back, shadows coiling along its edge.
Eron: "Judgment Arc—Execution Bloom."
With one effortless slash, his blade carved an arc across the sky.
And then—phantoms bloomed.
Dozens of spectral blades unfolded behind him like a colossal flower of darkness, each petal a weapon, each carrying the resonance of his strike. They spiraled inward toward Cassian, collapsing his six-blade storm as though it were nothing but brittle glass.
The explosion was silent at first, then roared outward with such force that the arena's wards flared bright white to keep the crowd alive. A flower of annihilation blossomed in the sky, petals of pure destruction consuming Cassian's ultimate technique.
When the light faded, Cassian lay in the center of the crater, body intact but aura extinguished, unconscious. His sword was shattered, fragments scattering like dust.
Eron descended lightly to the ground, his katana dissolving into gold flecks that vanished into the air. His Bankai state faded, leaving him calm, collected—as if he had simply taken a stroll.
The silence was crushing. No one dared to breathe.
And then, as if reality snapped back, the arena erupted in chaos.
Crowd:"WHAT WAS THAT?!""He ended the Drexhart Phantom Mirage in a single strike!""That word—Bankai—it's carved into my soul!""I couldn't even see him move!""He's not… human."
Even the faculty—mages and knights who had seen wars—were left pale.
High above, the headmaster clenched the rail of his balcony.
Headmaster (low): "…What have you become, Eron?"
System Notification
[Victory – Duel Complete]Opponent: Cassian Drexhart – Defeated
Bonus Exp: +2,300Skill Proficiency Increased
Hidden Title Acquired: "Phantom Blade of the Arena"
The word still echoed in the minds of all who heard it.
Bankai.
A word that shifted the balance of the tournament. A word that marked the rise of a new terror.
And as whispers spread, one thing became certain—Eron was no longer a mere student.
He was a sovereign in waiting.