Zarek didn't look back; he didn't try to find where the boy-man was. It was as though he had completely blocked out the world.
There was no anger in him, not sudden, abrupt rage. There was just focus. His mind was so trained on the task that one would have thought he had already forgotten what just happened.
An eruption of light came from the Perfect Challenge Hub, and then a figure slowly manifested—a ring of Godfall protecting them. The aura they radiated alone made Zarek's knee bend.
When he moved to resist it, he crashed to the ground, barely able to stop himself from losing control of a single knee, but unable to do anything else about the other.
It was the sort of power gap that ignored everything else, that made the world pale in your vision, as though the only color you were allowed to see was the one left in the wake of the strokes of the existence before you.
Zarek couldn't even raise his head to see what it was. But the boy-man did. He saw exactly what he had wanted to see all this time.
Warrior. Master. Elite.
These three were the tiers most often seen at every Class level. Roughly, they translated to some with an average of F- stats, then F stats, then F+ stats. This was the same for every tier above as well.
For an existence that came from this A Class Challenge Hub, it would be A-, A, and finally A+.
However, above that, there was still…
Ascendant. Warlord. Champion. Mythic. Paragon.
And only then was there Eclipse.
These rankings were almost entirely unheard of throughout the galaxy. Geniuses on such a level were the cream of the crop of the crop.
However, in this Hero Trial, their existence wasn't so measured at all.
It was said that if you weren't an Ascendant, even thoughts of surviving here were nothing short of foolish. To even think of it was ridiculous.
Zarek wasn't a complete fool, nor had the system gone out of its way to trick him. The Godsfall Tear he had entered was, indeed, C Class. It was just that it was designed for the best C Classes across the galaxy—C Classes that ate B Classes for breakfast, and when given enough opportunity and time to grow, could become B Classes capable of killing A Classes.
That was the true purpose of this Godsfall Tear.
However, these Challenge Hubs were like honey traps for the foolish. How many geniuses who overestimated themselves would find themselves in Zarek's position, pressing down on a Class Grade they had no capability of facing?
Too many.
To Zarek's credit, he didn't seem to be one of those fools and had understood his limits well. But for the boy-man, a genius who stood near the pinnacle himself, it took every fiber of his being not to make this foolish decision.
But his pride, his eagerness—both—got the best of him.
He wanted to see what the gap was. He wanted to know what an Eclipse Class Threat was, he wanted to see just how tall the mountain he aimed to climb was.
The Hero Association hadn't even produced a Mythic in countless generations. But the boy-man's ambitions went beyond even that.
He was Thalion Veyrath of the Imperial Wind Lineage. He was destined for greatness beyond this. And he wanted to see what mark he would one day reach.
But the moment he saw it—that figure, formed of light yet seeming to descend from darkness…
All the blood in his body drained away.
He fell from the skies, collapsing. Even with all his Godsfall Talent, he couldn't manage to continue controlling his energy at all.
It fluctuated within him, his Charisma waning.
BANG!
He slammed into the ground below, huffing for breath. Fear dotted his eyes, and his small hands clutched the soil.
He tried to regather the strength to look back up—to see what he was facing—but he couldn't manage it, no matter how hard he tried. The fear… it consumed him.
All he could see were those flashing images.
It wasn't too tall, not too broad, and seemingly not too imposing. It was covered in black armor from head to toe, rings of gold energy hanging around it.
To its back, a great sword taller than itself was strapped, its jagged edges carrying hints of something that was impossible to decipher—between blood and rust.
As it stood, the world around it was completely still. The grass didn't sway, the Godsfall didn't churn, and the stars even seemed to stop twinkling in the sky.
The world fell to silence as a barrier rippled into existence.
It was somehow slow—as though the Hub itself didn't have much power remaining after summoning such a thing. Maybe even the Hub wasn't truly able to reflect the menace of the Eclipse Class.
But it hardly seemed to matter.
Zarek had collapsed.
The boy-man, who wasn't even the target of what was happening, couldn't lift his head, trembling. At that moment, the so-called Hero Thalion was far more boy than man—his small body unable to stop himself from peeing.
The gap was far too large, the chasm far too all-consuming.
The black knight didn't have a special race, nor did it seem to have some broken, shocking ability. It hardly even seemed to breathe, but its presence alone was enough to cause the world to cull itself.
This was the true meaning of Eclipse: to have a presence that suppresses the world and cuts off even the moon and stars themselves, to have a domain not decided by Talent, Skill, or Profession, but by your very life.
And then the black knight reached for its sword. Maybe it was aware that it didn't need it and simply didn't care, or maybe it didn't even have such complex thoughts.
But the moment it unsheathed it, trees for dozens of miles were sliced apart by just the slightest nudge.
Zarek himself became a bloodied mess—the wind blades lashing against his face and body, casually severing an arm and a leg as though his limbs were no different from the piles of wood gathering in the distance.
It had only unsheathed its blade, and yet the battle was already over.