Unholy Player Chapter 548: The Descent of Gods (Part 1)

A while back, within the Beyond...

Upon the expansive training fields of Human City, spectators clustered around a vast arena, their gazes locked on the intense duel unfolding between a female fighter and a male opponent.

These onlookers were far from ordinary folks. The weakest in the bunch were still Rank 3 Practitioners. Plenty of Rank 4s dotted the crowd too, such as Zephan, Liora, and Throgar.

To captivate powerhouses at the ruler level like them, the combatants in the ring had to be exceptional as well.

Arvyn positioned herself on one end, a wicked smirk playing on her lips while she unleashed her crushing Rank 4 aura. It bore down on the audience like an actual burden, causing pulses to race with a mix of dread and thrill.

Opposite her waited a man boasting hair and eyes as white as fresh snow. Rhys Graves remained composed and steady, gripping golden-hued daggers in each hand.

"Show me just what your Path entails," Arvyn declared, treating the bout as mere amusement.

Up to this point, she had been challenging anyone she spotted and considered capable within the city to spar, all in an effort to alleviate her tedium.

Yet all her opponents proved too feeble. They failed to even make the moments drag on enjoyably. Not a single one held her interest enough to savor the clash.

Finally, she set her sights on Rhys, famed for pursuing a Path utterly unfamiliar to all.

Although he lingered at Rank 3 and lagged behind Rank 4 in sheer strength, her curiosity lay not in the now. It dwelled in the possibilities. She yearned to glimpse the heights this mysterious Path might scale.

Moreover, she needed to gauge if that Path justified lingering in the city, enduring this imposed restraint, for impatience defined her core. Even worse, her craving for bloodshed intensified daily without satisfaction.

Until recently, all had rebuffed her calls to pit her against Rhys in the arena. They delayed her endlessly, postponing the inevitable, but such evasion could only persist briefly.

Arvyn's agitation mounted with each passing day. She began revealing her feral side, harming foes in matches and almost slaying several. Ultimately, Rhys relented and agreed, for continued denial would lead her from requests to seizures. Should she snap, the city would suffer the fallout.

Selina lingered among the watchers too. She positioned herself at the arena's border, scrutinizing the pair with keen, perceptive eyes, noting every subtle change in stance and temperament.

She recognized Arvyn as a madwoman unlikely to remain leashed for long. Thus, she had orchestrated preparations beforehand.

The STF had sealed off the whole training zone's boundary. Outside the throng and beyond any detection by senses or sight, they encircled it firmly, arms at the ready and aimed at their mark.

The strategy was straightforward. Should Arvyn show the faintest hint of hostility or peril amid the exchange, pandemonium would erupt. The arena would transform into a warzone, and the objective would pivot from monitoring to chasing. They would pursue Arvyn relentlessly.

Doubt about success no longer mattered. Success was imperative. They needed to restrain her before she erupted into a catastrophe for the city.

Another figure observed the duel from the stands: an individual called Kaelor. Yet after deep deliberation, Selina viewed him not as a threat. She regarded him as steadfast aid.

The Mechari shared no bond with Arvyn. No camaraderie linked them. Selina felt confident he would abstain from meddling if conflict ignited. Quite possibly, he would assist in subduing her, or outright eliminate her.

A brief hush enveloped the arena, the tense quietude that precedes bloodshed.

Rhys shifted his footing and secured the pair of daggers. Sunlight glinted off the edges as he tilted them ahead. "Lady Arvyn, may I have the first strike?"

Arvyn chuckled, obviously delighted. "Certainly." She hesitated, savoring the notion, before her gaze sparkled with a superior inspiration. "Actually, let's make it this way. I'll allow you 10 strikes. Should you inflict lethal harm forcing me to block, I'll deem this bout yours. What do you say?"

Rhys grinned upon hearing the proposal. At least she grasped the disparity between their levels. "I'll accept with pleasure."

With that, he initiated his initial Spark skill.

Electrical surges erupted from his palms. They enveloped the golden daggers at first. Then the energy climbed, sheathing his entire form, snaking across flesh and fabric in agitated patterns. His brief white locks bristled as sparks crackled in vivid, rapid bursts.

This Spark came as a gift from Zephan earlier, a staple among Lunari Practitioners. A enhancement skill designed to boost velocity and reactions.

Following that, he layered on a second Spark skill.

His eyes ignited with azure radiance. Throgar had bestowed this one. It amplified his perceptions and expanded his consciousness of environment and physique, honing precision and mastery. It aimed to reduce errors and maximize utilization of surroundings and personal capabilities.

Naturally, it fell short, so he incorporated his third skill into the sequence.

This particular one originated from Liora. Suddenly, his sinews expanded further. His bodily prowess surged manifold.

Finally, he triggered the Spark acquired from the Obsidren race, among their prized Spark abilities.

His epidermis shifted to a bronze metallic sheen, enhancing resilience and protection while adding mass to intensify the impact of his blows.

As Rhys invoked Spark skills successively from four distinct Paths, seamlessly fusing them into unified might, the audience stared in astonishment, as though beholding an impossibility.

Arvyn’s face altered too, and for the first time in ages, she seemed truly eager for the fray.

The primary drawback for Blood Path Practitioners lay in their restriction to Sparks solely from the Blood Path, which were scarce since they didn't occur naturally.

Thus, even locating Sparks proved challenging, and assembling a combination like this from limited options was tougher still.

Rhys, leveraging the prime benefit of the AXION Path, incorporating Spark skills gathered from various Paths into this impeccable synergy, demonstrated outright the Path’s superior prospects.

Yet that wasn't its sole edge. His subsequent action held greater significance.

Gradually, a slender dark vapor emanated from his frame. It expanded briefly, then contracted, promptly enshrouding him in delicate black fumes that gathered at the dagger points he wielded.

"Is that your bloodline ability?" Arvyn inquired, instantly identifying the power's essence.

While uncertain of its function, merely observing the ebony vapor caused her chest to constrict. An inexplicable primal dread welled up within.

"As anticipated from Lady Arvyn," Rhys praised her, maintaining a courteous and steady voice. Then he assumed his ready pose, shoulders dropping, equilibrium firming. "I’m advancing."

"Don’t fault me if I grow overly thrilled," Arvyn responded. Her grin broadened as she restrained herself, scarcely curbing the impulse to lunge first and sample his blood's essence.

Rhys sensed her bloodthirst escalating and surged ahead with all the enhancements he had amassed.

The earth splintered underfoot. His form hazed and disappeared, trailing dim, sparking remnants of blue lightning.

Instantly after, he materialized at her rear, daggers targeted at her neck's both flanks.

"Your quickness impresses," Arvyn remarked, staying utterly still to permit the daggers to pierce her skin.

The blades struck solidly against her neck sides, overcoming initial opposition with Malice more than doubling their keenness, ripping through tissue and embedding deeply into muscle.

"Your blades cut exceptionally well too," Arvyn noted once more, her face impassive even as the daggers plunged to their full length.

However, no blood flowed.

Despite the daggers remaining embedded, the gashes mended. Tissue knit snugly around the metal at bizarre velocity, as if her form denied any harm inflicted.

Rhys attempted to withdraw his daggers yet encountered resistance. He couldn't budge them an inch.

He had foreseen as much.

A towering [Vigor] attribute paired with phenomenal healing ensured this assault wouldn't suffice. Thus, he deployed his following Spark skill, reserved for precisely this scenario.

He funneled his blasting skill via the daggers, igniting an explosion within her gullet, aiming to sever her head entirely.