Riven and the Lord of Frostfell faced each other across the massive crater, the ground between them littered with the mangled corpses of players.
In the eyes of those players, now floating as ethereal ghosts, this was a cutscene of epic proportions. It was the destined showdown between the protagonist and the world boss, a moment brimming with drama and visual splendor.
The two men at the center of it all, however, saw things differently.
Riven quickly analyzed the situation. With his breakthrough ability, he could match the Lord's Tier, and his level would even be slightly higher. And besides, who was he? He was the Child of Destiny, chosen by two gods! With his arsenal of top-tier skills, this so-called Lord of Frostfell was nothing but an insignificant clown.
A complex smirk spread across Riven's face—a cocktail of three parts amusement, three parts confidence, three parts wild arrogance, and one final part genuine appreciation.
"Lord of Frostfell. My name is Riven. You may not know me now," he began, his voice calm, "but I assure you, it is a name you will soon come to fear."
"I admit, you are powerful. These Awakened are no match for you. But you cannot possibly imagine what kind of being stands before you now." His voice began to rise, gaining intensity. "Nor can you comprehend the magnificent destiny I carry on my shoulders!"
A blinding white light erupted from his eyes, followed by brilliant pillars of energy that burst forth from within his body.
"Unleash, my power!"
A cocoon of light around him shattered, revealing a figure bathed in divine radiance. His armor had become even more ornate, his longsword now pulsed with a potent Aura, and his raw power climbed higher and higher.
From Alistair's perspective, Riven's information panel had transformed completely.
[Name: Riven]
[Identity: Child of Destiny, Civilian]
[Power Level: Earth Knight Lv. 45 (Temporary)]
[Skills: Shattering Cross of Light (Temp), Intermediate Magic Immunity (Temp), Aura of Sanctity (Temp), Aegis of Everlasting Day (Temp), Master-grade Combat Proficiency (Temp)]
[?? Skill 1: ???]
[?? Skill 2: ???]
[Equipment: The Sighing Armor (Masterwork) (Temp), The Sighing Sword (Masterwork) (Temp)]
[Reputation: Omitted]
Well, he certainly is the protagonist, Alistair thought with a dry whistle. The moment he powers up, he's a level higher than me. If the previous, shameless lord of this domain were here, he'd probably be on his knees already. But Alistair was not him. Whether he could win or not remained to be seen. And if worse came to worst, there was always Thorne.
The surrounding players were flushed with excitement. They had already guessed what was happening. It wouldn't make sense for the game to introduce an unbeatable boss this early. Now, their theory was confirmed: the Lord of Frostfell was a story boss, meant to be defeated in a scripted event. The trigger, they deduced, was for the boss to kill all the players, which would in turn cause the protagonist, Riven, to unleash his true power.
They boldly predicted that Riven would now proceed to beat the Lord of Frostfell into the ground and claim victory.
"Okay, that power-up was seriously cool!"
"A shame, though. A badass boss like the Lord is about to get written out of the story right after his debut."
"A huge fight is coming! Everyone get ready to record, this is perfect montage material!"
"Popcorn, peanuts, and soda for sale! And you, sir, could you please move your corpse? You're blocking the view. Thanks."
Feeling the immense, surging Aura within him, Riven closed his eyes in ecstasy. He was even stronger now than he had been in his past life on Earth. He had assumed breakthrough was a simple level boost, but this was a comprehensive, full-body enhancement.
When he opened his eyes again, they held nothing but cold indifference. He leveled his longsword at Alistair.
"Alistair Goldenlion, let me show you what true power looks like! You are nothing! Aura of Sanctity!"
With a thunderous roar, Riven's body blazed like the noon sun. A new, arcane aura formed at his feet. In a blur of motion, he vanished, reappearing instantly before Alistair and unleashing a furious flurry of sword strikes.
Alistair's expression was grim. He met the assault with his greatsword, blocking each strike, but a tremendous force, laced with strange, hidden shockwaves, traveled up the blade, making his arm tingle with numbness.
"What's the matter? Feeling a bit numb?" Riven taunted, a smug, protagonist's grin plastered on his face. He never shut up, even in the heat of battle. "Hahahaha! This is a secret art of my family! I have integrated its principles into my swordplay! Only a genius such as myself could master such a fusion in so short a time!"
He pressed his attack, each slash, cut, and thrust hammering against Alistair's block, the light from his sword so bright it nearly blinded the ghostly onlookers.
Alistair, however, would have sworn the numbness lasted only a moment before his own Aura adapted and neutralized it. The discomfort vanished completely.
It seems, he mused, that whatever power-up he just received, it didn't do anything for his IQ. This is a world of swords and magic. A knight's body is protected by Aura, down to the last hair. What good is a subtle vibrating force against that?
Misinterpreting Alistair's silence as a sign that he was suffering from devastating internal injuries, Riven redoubled his efforts, focusing even more on channeling the 'internal force.' With every chop, slice, and thrust, he would add a subtle, vibrating twitch of his body, sending what he thought were crippling shockwaves into his opponent.
Because the two were exchanging blows at such an incredible speed, this had an odd side effect. To the players watching, Riven's movements began to look increasingly bizarre.
"What kind of skill is the protag using???"
"I'm just gonna say it, it looks like he's dancing. I mean, look at that hip action…"
"My god, he's twitching worse than my neighbor with epilepsy."