I steadied my breath.
The pain didn't fade, but I stopped fighting it.
It was there, constant, a reminder of how far I had come and how much farther I had to go. But it was no longer something to escape. It was something to endure.
The flickering light overhead cast long shadows across the chamber.
The lightning chains curled around my body and the platform, crackling softly, and striking my body. But I didn't flinch. I didn't rush. I stood still, my sword resting at my side, my grip firm but relaxed.
For the first time in days, my mind was clear.
The task was simple.
Cut through the lightning. Find the moment when resistance faded, when the chains loosened just enough.
It was there, Arkas had said so.
I had spent days fighting blindly, thrashing against the pain, forcing my body to move with brute strength instead of precision. But now, I wasn't just fighting.
I was waiting.
A surge of electricity shot through my body, but I didn't react. My breathing remained steady, my muscles still. The pain came and went in waves, but I let it pass through me.
My mind wasn't on the pain. It was on the sword. On the edge gleaming under the dim light.
Another surge. Then another.
I waited.
Then—there.
For a split second, the lightning dimmed. The weight of it lessened. It was small, almost imperceptible, but I felt it. My instincts screamed at me to move, and this time, I listened.
My body reacted before my thoughts could catch up. My right arm slashed forward in a smooth, precise arc. Not forced. Not rushed.
Perfect.
The blade cut through the lightning like paper. The golden chains shattered, flickering out of existence as my sword followed through. Sparks burst into the air, but I had already finished the motion. I stood still, my sword extended, my chest rising and falling in quiet, controlled breaths.
Silence.
I watched in slow motion as the lightning faded away, my eyes tracking its movement. It all felt distant, as if I were watching a memory unfold from long ago.
I exhaled and closed my eyes. A notification rang in my head, but I stayed silent, reliving the moment my sword sliced through the chains.
I felt free, as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
Opening my eyes, I looked at Arkas.
Finally, he stood up and stepped toward me.
"I'll be honest with you, Steve. I didn't have high expectations," he said.
I chuckled.
I understood why. Even I had given up on myself then why wouldn't he?
"But I'm glad you proved me wrong," he continued.
Arkas smiled. "Did you get the skill?"
I pulled up the notification and checked.
[Skill Acquired]
[Final Severance - Level 1]
[Final Severance] – A sword technique that harnesses precise timing and absolute focus. By waiting for the perfect instant when resistance is at its weakest, the user delivers a single, flawless strike that severs through obstacles, whether physical or not, with minimal effort.
A grin spread across my face as I nodded at him.
He nodded back.
"This should help you get an Epic Class. Rest for a day, then we move on to acquire your class."
I replied.
"Yes Commander."
*****
Capital of Vaythos - Astra
Royal Palace - Throne Hall
[Emperor's PoV]
I sat on my throne, eyes closed, lost in thought about the war looming on the horizon.
A disturbance pulled me from my contemplation, and my eyes opened slowly.
Shadows swirled beneath the steps of the throne as Edgar materialized before me.
He knelt and greeted me with a single word.
"Emperor."
I smiled.
"Rise."
He nodded and stood, a silly grin tugging at his lips. I knew he wanted me to ask about it. Shaking my head, I indulged him.
"What brings you here, Edgar?"
He coughed lightly before speaking.
"The Ferans have agreed to the meeting, Emperor. There are some new conditions and changes in the agreement, but nothing the Empire can't handle."
That surprised me. The Ferans agreeing to our plan? My brows furrowed as I considered if I was overlooking something, if there was another game at play. But nothing came to mind.
I looked at Edgar and said.
"Thank you. I appreciate your efforts."
He bowed slightly.
"It is my duty to serve the Empire for as long as these old bones last."
I chuckled at his reply.
"But I have more news for you, Emperor," he continued.
I nodded.
"Go ahead."
His grin widened as he recounted the latest exploits of the new, talented recruit. I listened intently, impressed by the boy's dedication and skill.
"So, what exactly is he trying to do?" I asked.
Edgar shrugged.
"Arkas won't tell me. He said to wait for the boy to either succeed or fail."
I nodded. Typical Arkas. Then a small smile formed on my face.
"So, he's interested in North?"
Edgar laughed.
"Oh yes. He is. And North is showing interest as well."
"That's good. They're both good kids."
Edgar fidgeted slightly, and my eyes narrowed.
"What is it? Speak."
He hesitated, then took a deep breath.
"Steve got the skill."
I tilted my head.
"Skill? Which skill?"
Edgar stayed silent, his gaze met mine. Realization dawned on me.
"Arkas?" I asked.
He nodded.
Thoughts churned in my mind—anger, relief, excitement. Even I wasn't sure what I felt in that moment.
I met Edgar's eyes. "No one other than Arkas would dare."
"I agree with what he did, Emperor," Edgar said, his voice resolute.
I studied him for a moment, then exhaled.
"I understand. I suppose it's time to let the past remain in the past and plan for the future."
I turned to the right, my gaze landing on the grand map of the Empire carved into the wall. But the map was no longer whole. The Empire was not complete. We had lost, and we had lost much.
Looking back at Edgar, I said, "Inform Dante to start recruiting."
His body tensed slightly before he nodded.
"You may leave."
"Yes, Emperor."
Shadows swirled around him, and he was gone.
I closed my eyes again, but Edgar's words echoed in my mind.
'The skill. Final Severance.'
My eyes snapped open, and I stood up. The world shifted around me, and in an instant, I found myself in the Royal Kitchen.
The chefs dropped to their knees as soon as they saw me.
"Emperor."
I met Viktor's gaze, the head chef, and spoke. "Viktor. Food."
He raised his head slightly, reading my expression. I nodded. He knew what I wanted.
"Yes, Emperor," he answered, and the kitchen bustled with activity as the preparations began.
I stood in place, watching.
Before long, Viktor approached with a tray.
"Emperor, the food is ready. Would you—" He hesitated, looking at me.
"Yes, give it to me."
He turned and placed the tray in my hands. Two simple dishes rested on it, nothing extravagant.
"Thank you, Viktor."
Before he could reply, I moved. The world shifted again, and I found myself standing before a massive metal door. It was strong enough that even I would need effort to destroy it.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and pushed the door open.
Inside was a small, clean room—light blue in color, refreshing to the eyes. A flower pot sat in the corner, new blossoms just beginning to bloom.
But at the center was a bed.
At the center of the bed, she sat cross-legged, eyes closed. Chains bound her wrists and ankles, locking her in place.
I looked at her and could see that she had been recently bathed and dressed. Her hair was neatly combed. That brought a small smile to my face.
I stepped forward, carrying the tray with me, and sat on the bed in front of her, setting the tray down carefully.
Then, as gently as I could, I spoke.
"Hazel, I brought food for you."
She didn't move.
I sighed.
"It's your favorite. Viktor made it himself."
Still, no response.
"Hazel, I know you can hear me. Why won't you talk to me? If you're angry, you can scold me. Hit me if you want. But please—" My voice dropped to a whisper. "I beg you, talk to me."
Finally, she opened her eyes.
Fury burned within them.
Through gritted teeth, she spat, "Get out."
I met her gaze, searching for something, anything, but unfortunately nothing had changed.
Sighing, I stood and turned to leave.
At the door, I paused. Without looking back, I spoke the words that had brought me here.
"Someone acquired your skill...Sister."
I tilted my head just enough to glimpse her reaction. Her eyes widened, just slightly.
Closing the door behind me, I walked away.