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

A while back, in the Beyond...

Within the vast training grounds of Human City, spectators had assembled around a spacious arena, their attention fixed on the intense duel unfolding between a female fighter and a male opponent.

These onlookers were far from ordinary folks. The weakest among them held Rank 3 Practitioner status. Numerous Rank 4 experts mingled in the crowd, such as Zephan, Liora, and Throgar.

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

Arvyn positioned herself on one end of the arena, a wicked smile curling her lips as she unleashed her dominating Rank 4 presence. It bore down on the audience like an invisible force, stirring pulses with a mix of trepidation and thrill.

Opposite her waited a man boasting hair and eyes as white as fresh snow. Rhys Graves remained composed and unmoving, gripping a pair of golden daggers in his hands.

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

Up to this point, she had been challenging various worthy individuals across the city to spars, all in an effort to alleviate her tedium.

Yet every adversary proved too feeble. They failed to even occupy her briefly. Not a single one proved engaging enough to spark real enjoyment in the exchanges.

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, the current state did not intrigue her. Rather, it was the promise of growth. She yearned to glimpse the heights this mysterious Path might ascend to.

She also sought to determine if that Path justified her lingering in the city, enduring this imposed restraint—patience clashed with her very essence. Even worse, her craving for bloodshed intensified daily without satisfaction.

Until recently, all had rebuffed her requests to confront Rhys in combat. They delayed her repeatedly, postponing the inevitable, but such evasion could only endure for so long.

Arvyn's impatience had mounted steadily. She began revealing her feral side, wounding foes in spars and almost slaying several. Ultimately, Rhys relented and agreed, knowing that persistent denial would prompt her to seize rather than seek. Should she snap, the entire city would suffer the consequences.

Selina stood among the observers as well. She lingered at the arena's boundary, scrutinizing the pair with keen, analytical gaze, noting every subtle change in bearing and temperament.

She recognized Arvyn as a madwoman unlikely to remain restrained much longer. That realization drove her to ready all measures beforehand.

The STF had already secured the full circumference of the training zone. Hidden beyond the throng and beyond detection by any sense or sight, they encircled the area firmly, arms poised and aimed at their mark.

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

It transcended mere possibility—they had no alternative. They needed to restrain her by any means before she evolved into the city's cataclysmic scourge.

Another figure observed the clash from the stands: an individual called Kaelor. Yet, following extensive deliberation, Selina viewed him not as a threat but as steadfast ally.

The Mechari shared no bond with Arvyn. No camaraderie linked them. Selina trusted he would refrain from meddling if conflict ignited. On the contrary, he could assist in subduing her, perhaps even eliminating her.

A tense hush descended upon the arena, the prelude that invariably precedes bloodshed.

Rhys shifted his footing and secured the dual daggers in his hold. The edges gleamed as he tilted them ahead. "Lady Arvyn, may I have the first strike?"

Arvyn chuckled, visibly amused. "Certainly." She hesitated, savoring the notion, before her gaze sparkled with a superior suggestion. "Actually, let's make it this way. I'll allow you 10 strikes. Should you inflict a lethal blow that forces my defense, I'll deem this bout your victory. What do you say?"

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

With that, he initiated his initial Spark skill.

Lightning arcs burst from his palms. They enveloped the golden daggers at first. Then the energy climbed, encasing his entire form, snaking across flesh and fabric in erratic patterns. His brief white locks bristled as electric pops flared in vivid bursts.

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

Following that, he layered on another Spark skill.

His eyes ignited with azure radiance. This gift originated from Throgar. It amplified his perceptions and bolstered his cognizance of environment and physique, refining precision and mastery. It aimed to curb errors and maximize utilization of surroundings and personal capabilities.

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

This one hailed from Liora. In a flash, his sinews expanded further. His bodily prowess surged manifold.

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

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

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

Arvyn’s demeanor shifted 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 Blood Path Sparks alone, which proved scarce since they did not occur naturally in the realm.

Locating such Sparks posed a challenge, and assembling a combination like this from limited options was even tougher.

Rhys, leveraging the prime benefit of the AXION Path, by incorporating Spark skills from diverse Paths and weaving them into such a perfect synergy, demonstrated the unmatched promise of this Path.

Yet that was merely one edge. His subsequent action held greater significance.

Gradually, a slender dark vapor emanated from his frame. It expanded briefly, then contracted, swiftly enshrouding him in delicate ebony haze that gathered at the dagger points he clutched.

"Is that your bloodline ability?" Arvyn inquired, instantly identifying the essence of the energy.

Though uncertain of its effect, the mere sight of the dark vapor constricted her chest. An unexplained primal dread welled within her.

"Truly befitting of Lady Arvyn," Rhys complimented her, maintaining a courteous and steady voice. Then he adopted his ready pose, shoulders dropping, equilibrium firming. "Here I come."

"Don't hold it against me if I lose restraint," Arvyn responded. Her grin broadened as she restrained herself, scarcely curbing the impulse to lunge ahead and sample his blood's essence.

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

The earth splintered under his feet. His figure hazed and disappeared, trailing dim, sizzling remnants of blue lightning.

The instant after, he materialized at her rear, daggers targeted at both flanks of her throat.

"Impressive speed," Arvyn remarked, remaining stationary as she permitted the twin daggers to pierce her skin.

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

"Your blades cut keenly too," Arvyn observed once more, her face unaltered even as the daggers plunged fully to their guards.

Yet no blood emerged.

Despite the weapons lodged within, the gashes were mending. Tissue knit snugly around the edges at unnatural velocity, as if her form denied any harm inflicted.

Rhys attempted to withdraw his daggers but encountered opposing resistance. He couldn't budge them in the slightest.

He had anticipated as much.

A elevated [Vigor] attribute paired with extraordinary recovery ensured this assault wouldn't suffice. Thus, he deployed his following Spark skill, the one tailored for this scenario.

He directed his burst skill via the daggers, generating an explosion within her larynx, aiming to sever her head from her torso.