Cercius sprinted forward at remarkable speed, covering several dozen meters in mere seconds, then leapt high into the air—almost as if he were gliding through the sky.
This time, he had decided to go on the offensive right from the start, to hold nothing back, strike down the leader immediately, and end the round as quickly as possible.
From his elevated position, Cercius descended upon the skeleton that appeared to be the commander of the undead horde. He swung his mana-infused sword, intending to decapitate it in one precise, direct strike.
The skeleton, however, did not appear impressed or even threatened. It merely raised its bony right hand in a relaxed motion.
Suddenly, the dark aura surrounding the skeleton surged, spreading across the entire arena and exerting a pressure so heavy it seemed to crush all life beneath it.
At the same time, a dense mass of dark mana gathered around the skeleton and shot toward Cercius.
Hands of Death!
The black mass quickly took the shape of two enormous hands that sought to crush Cercius between their palms while he was still midair.
Cercius looked slightly surprised upon seeing this strange form of magic, but he did not lose his composure—his focus remained firm.
He swung his sword just a little earlier than intended, slicing the two giant hands apart with a crescent-shaped strike. Yet, as the dark hands dispersed into nothing, he saw that many smaller, black hands had already appeared and were shooting toward him.
At the same moment, the skeletal mages on the ground began chanting, their magic circles glowing as they fired dozens of small fireballs that chased after Cercius.
"Tch." Cercius clicked his tongue in irritation. I underestimated them—they're stronger than I thought. So they leave me no other choice…!
Huu~ He exhaled deeply, eyes closing for a moment as he centered himself.
Then, when he opened them again, golden pupils gleamed within his gaze—and suddenly, time itself seemed to stop. Everything froze midair: the black hands, the fireballs, and even Cercius himself.
But there was one thing that still moved within that frozen time—Cercius's eyes.
They opened and closed with astonishing speed, so fast that one could barely tell the difference between open and shut, as he scanned the entire arena, observing everything and absorbing every detail.
This lasted only a few seconds before he finally stopped and closed his eyes. When he reopened them, the golden pupils were gone, and time began to flow again as if nothing had happened.
Still suspended in the air, Cercius started to fall, and the undead attacks resumed their advance toward him.
He remained perfectly calm, slowly raising his sword as mana erupted along the blade. He swung once.
Knight's Sword – First Form: Direct Strike!
Cercius's mana burst forth, forming a massive wave aimed straight at the undead leader, followed by several smaller arcs of energy that sliced through the incoming fireballs and dark hands.
When the undead leader saw the attack threatening to destroy him, he reacted swiftly. Waving his hands, he gathered dark mana and formed a circular barrier around himself, which seemed to absorb Cercius's attack.
Cercius landed after his failed direct assault, right in the middle of the undead horde, and immediately began to fight. He lunged at the skeletal warriors, who met his charge, and a fierce battle erupted in the arena.
The clash of swords rang out—the sound of colliding steel echoed throughout the entire Colosseum, drawing roars of excitement from the illusory crowd.
The skeletons surged toward Cercius like an endless wave, besieging him from all directions with relentless strikes, which he parried with precision. At the same time, he had to evade the magical attacks raining down from the skeletal mages.
His movements through the swarm, his swift steps and flowing strikes, resembled a dance within the arena.
While he fought his way through the tide, barely managing to cut down even a handful of skeletons, Cercius caught sight—out of the corner of his eye—of the undead leader's actions.
That bothersome skeleton had begun casting spells every time another skeleton was shattered and fell, reviving them over and over again.
Thus, the dozen or more undead truly became an endless wave.
He had been uncertain before—but the immense presence of death mana and that strange magic could mean only one thing: it had to be a lich. At first, he had doubted it, but now Cercius had identified the skeletal figure beyond any doubt—a lich.
A lich was a special form of skeleton that not only possessed tremendous mana reserves but could also summon and command other undead while wielding powerful dark magic.
It was clear: he had to deal with the lich first, or this fight would never end—and eventually, exhaustion would consume him.
Cercius charged through the mass of skeletons, now dodging the warriors' blows instead of blocking them.
He was incredibly fast and soon managed to put some distance between himself and the undead horde.
Huu~ He exhaled deeply, raising his sword over his shoulder, preparing for a swing. His mana began circulating rapidly, even flowing into the blade itself until it seemed to dissolve within it.
When ready, he swung his sword—infused with mana—toward the oncoming flood of rattling skeletons.
Cutting Wind!
The motion of his blade, combined with his mana, created a tearing gust of wind that surged forward with overwhelming force, cleaving through over two dozen skeletons in a straight line and carving a wide path through the horde.
That, of course, was exactly what Cercius had intended. As soon as the opening appeared, he rushed through it without hesitation. Since the revived skeletons did not return instantly, he had enough time to slip behind the horde, passing even the mages—half of whom had already been destroyed by his previous attack.
The strike he called Cutting Wind was a unique ability he had developed himself during training. It was a technique that charged his sword with mana, which, through a powerful swing, influenced the surrounding air and created a slicing wave of wind that annihilated everything in its path.
He could perform this ability only thanks to his affinity with the wind element.
Cercius dashed swiftly through the breach he had carved into the undead ranks, heading straight for the lich. At his speed, he reached it within mere seconds.
By that time, however, the lich had already reanimated the fallen undead—if one could even call them "alive."
"Got you!"
During the act of resurrection, the lich was briefly paralyzed, unable—or at least unwilling—to cast other spells. It was focused solely on reviving its subordinates, leaving itself defenseless against the coming attack.
Cercius swung his mana-charged sword horizontally at the lich's neck.
Knight's Sword – Second Form: Righteous Execution!
His sword drew a perfect line, radiant with the brilliance of swordsmanship taught to him by the King of Knights, threatening to sever the lich's head.
Yet, strangely, the lich did not appear fearful of death. It extended its bony hand toward the horde, and suddenly a dark aura erupted from its body.
Tribute to Death!
Cercius's eyes widened. Impossible—how can he still cast? He should be paralyzed!
A thunderous crash resounded through the arena—the sound of colliding steel, louder and more violent than ever before, shaking the Colosseum to its core.
When Cercius looked up, his eyes widened once more at the sight before him. His sword had indeed been stopped—but not by the lich itself.
Standing beside the lich was a massive knight clad in dark armor, mounted upon a sinister steed composed entirely of bone and black energy. In one hand, the knight wielded a colossal greatsword that no normal being could lift with one arm—yet he did. In the other hand, he held a head, still encased in a black helmet—the missing head from his own shoulders.
Out of the corner of his eye, Cercius noticed that the skeletal horde had all collapsed, lifeless once more. They had simply fallen dead where they stood.
That explained the sudden surge of dark mana earlier and the spell the lich had cast in that final moment.
It was unsettling—not because the horde had perished, but because of the dark knight's sudden appearance, and the fact that he had protected the lich.
Moreover, this dark knight emanated an immense aura that far surpassed even that of the lich. The power of death swirled around him like a heavy mist, devouring all it touched.
This undead knight upon his skeletal steed was a Death Knight—but not an ordinary one. He was something far greater, a superior form known as a Dullahan—the Headless Rider.
The Dullahan was among the highest of undead entities, its strength exceeding that of a simple lich and rivaling even that of an archlich.
Unlike a lich, however, a Dullahan was clearly a close-combat unit—not to be underestimated. Not only did it possess tremendous physical strength, but its mana reserves—both in quantity and purity—surpassed the B-rank standard.
Hmph, the Dullahan's contemptuous snort echoed directly in Cercius's mind.
Cercius stepped back, halting his advance, and assumed a defensive stance. His demeanor had completely changed from how he'd fought at the start of the trial.
This opponent was different—far more powerful and dangerous than any before. He knew he could no longer take it easy; he had to treat the Dullahan as a serious threat.
Just as he prepared to lunge forward and test the knight's strength, his mana flared—but what happened next, he hadn't expected…
Cercius's charge was abruptly interrupted when the lich behind the Dullahan began casting dark magic again.
Embrace of Death!
Out of nowhere, darkness surged around Cercius in the form of dozens of black hands—born from shadow itself—that grabbed hold of his body faster than he could react, restraining him completely.
His expression showed shock at first, then anger—rage at his own carelessness and at the sudden turn of battle. His mana erupted from within him like a raging storm, tearing the black hands apart and scattering them into dust.
But in that brief moment, the Dullahan had already closed the distance and swung his massive greatsword at Cercius as though it weighed nothing.
At the same time, the weapon radiated the Power of Death, pressing down on him with overwhelming force.
Cercius endured the crushing pressure through sheer willpower, refusing to yield, and countered with all his strength. With great effort, he managed to deflect the Dullahan's strike and immediately launched his counterattack.
His blade slashed toward the knight's body—but unexpectedly, the Dullahan moved with blinding speed atop his skeletal horse, blocking the attack effortlessly.
Spikes of Death!
From nowhere, two large bone spears burst from the ground, flying toward Cercius's back. The Dullahan took advantage of the distraction, swinging his sword once more.
It was the lich again—interfering in the duel between Cercius and the Dullahan with his dark spells, hindering Cercius's movements.
"Damn it!" cursed Cercius.
Instead of dodging the incoming sword or the bone spikes, he suddenly drove his own blade into the ground.
Earth Pillar!
The ground beneath Cercius rose sharply, forming into an oval column that shot upward into the sky.
He narrowly escaped both attacks from the undead.
With a thunderous crash, the Dullahan cleaved the rising stone pillar in half, while the bone spikes shattered against it.
Cercius reacted quickly—before the pillar crumbled and he fell. Pulling his sword free, he leapt off, soaring over the Dullahan and straight toward the lich. As his mana flared, he swung his blade once more, unleashing a technique.
Cutting Wind!
Cercius's slash generated a raging current of wind that hurtled toward the lich.
The Dullahan, moving at incredible speed upon his steed, appeared instantly before the lich. He swung his greatsword and released the dark mana of death.
His blow snuffed out the roaring wind in an instant, perfectly countering Cercius's attempt to strike down the annoying lich and end the interference of his spells.
Damn it, there's no use! I'll have to face him head-on! Cercius realized his dire situation—that he would have to defeat the Dullahan first before he could reach the lich, since the undead knight never left its master's side.
At the same time, though, he knew that while fighting the Dullahan, the lich's spells would continue to hinder him. It was a dire and complicated position to be in.
But that didn't mean it was impossible.
After landing back on the ground, Cercius immediately dashed toward the Dullahan again. He spread his mana throughout his entire body and used a skill he had learned during training—one he had mastered after gaining full control over his internal mana flow.
Body Reinforcement!