Journey to Become the Zenith

Cloaked in Death

A gesture began as fingers stretched forward. The palm faced outward, slow and steady.

Faint light crept through the lines carved into his flesh, signs of a deal made long ago. A rhythm passed through the ink - one pulse, another - then sudden brightness swelled. Darkness pooled above his hand, drawn by energy rising from within.

A shape began to form out of the blackness, piece by piece. His weapon took its place without sound.

A stretch of black stone took shape slowly, smooth under the dim light. Following that came the edge - a sweep of metal mirroring the night sky’s curve, sharp but graceful in its form. Near where the pole met handhold, strands thinner than hair reached out, almost ghostlike in their delicacy. These held small red blades, slender as pins yet forged like tiny weapons, half a foot each in span.

Up above, they drifted near his shape like weightless things.

Something fragile held them fast - just breath, maybe, or memory.

He stood no taller than the blade beside him. Black through and through. Not a sound came from it. Just being near twisted what surrounded.

A single glint ran through each red-tipped needle. Blood-wet light caught their edges at dawn.

A stillness came over the great room on the Twenty-First Floor. The Void Tyrant Hydra stopped mid-motion.

Its multiple serpentine heads lifted slightly.

The hydra felt it.

Death.

Not metaphorical.

Not symbolic.

True death.

The energy radiating from Victor’s scythe was ancient and cold. The Hydra’s massive body instinctively shifted backward, claws grinding against stone.

Victor’s golden eyes gleamed.

”Hey, you lizard—don’t back away! Show me the dignity and might of a King!”

The hydra answered with a roar that shook the cavern.

Several heads snapped forward at once, maws glowing as void-fire gathered in their throats.

A torrent of black and violet flames surged toward him.

”That move again?”

Victor’s body blurred as he leapt upward, evading the converging streams of fire. The flames collided beneath him, detonating into an explosion that carved molten trenches into the ground.

With that single leap, he was now directly above the Hydra.

His eyes sharpened.

With a flick of his wrist, the seven crimson needles shot downward.

They pierced into scaled flesh.

The Hydra convulsed.

For the first time since its birth—

Pain.

Its scales were thick. Its hide reinforced by mana.

Yet the needles slipped through.

The Hydra’s heads shrieked, a higher-pitched roar splitting the air as dark blood seeped from the punctures.

The needles began to drain.

Mana.

Blood.

Vitality.

The Hydra thrashed violently, snapping at the wires that connected the floating blades. With a burst of force, it tore the needles free.

Wounds sealed almost instantly.

Regeneration surged.

Victor landed lightly on the ground behind it.

”What are you? A baby? Afraid of being pricked?”

The Hydra’s tail swept backward in blind fury.

Victor sidestepped effortlessly.

”So how was it, Diana?”

He spoke calmly while weaving through claw strikes and snapping jaws.

Inside his mind, a woman’s voice answered—low, smooth, edged with hunger.

”As I thought, Master. I can try to drain the opponent’s blood, but it does not grant me power. The only person whose blood can strengthen me... is you, my Master. Even a creature of this level cannot bypass that restriction.”

Victor clicked his tongue.

”Damn. I thought I could use the blood of a Void Tyrant Hydra to get around that irritating skill. No matter. It’s not like I’ll die even if I use it.”

The Hydra did not share in their casual tone.

It attacked relentlessly.

Claws tore through stone.

Tails smashed pillars.

Multiple heads lunged from different angles, spitting venomous mist and void-fire in chaotic patterns.

Yet Victor moved as if dancing.

His body was coated in his own mana, neutralizing most of the toxic mist before it could reach his skin.

Each strike missed him by inches.

Seeing brute force fail, the Hydra changed tactics.

Its wings spread wide.

Mana gathered deep within its massive core.

Victor felt it instantly.

The concentration.

The density.

It was gathering more power than at any moment since the battle began.

He smiled.

Now this was interesting.

The Hydra rose into the air, its many throats glowing as one.

Victor planted his feet firmly.

He did not intend to evade.

This time, he would meet it head-on.

”Now that’s better! Are you finally getting motivated?! Then I will respond in kind. Diana—this serpent is about to use its strongest attack. So how about we answer it with our own strongest attack?”

His grin was feral.

”Very well, Master.”

The seven crimson needles turned inward.

They plunged into Victor’s right arm.

Blood flowed.

As Diana absorbed it, black mana erupted around him.

It spiraled outward, forming a cloak of darkness that wrapped around his body. It swallowed his features. Even his face became shadowed beneath a hood-shaped veil.

The blade of the scythe glowed dark red.

This—

Was Diana’s true form.

Pure death energy.

The Hydra hesitated.

Fear.

Real fear.

But it committed.

All of its heads inhaled at once.

Then released.

A cataclysmic torrent of combined elements—void-fire, compressed wind, corrosive venom, and crushing force—merged into a single annihilating breath.

It tore across the cavern.

Strong enough to wipe out Fantom City in seconds.

Victor did not retreat.

He leapt forward instead.

Clad in death.

The Hydra’s many eyes widened.

This human—

Was insane.

The elemental torrent engulfed him.

Just before it struck fully, Victor swung.

The scythe carved downward through the center of the attack.

The breath split.

But not completely.

The force pressed against him mid-air, crushing.

His mana reserves plummeted.

The foothold of compressed air beneath his feet flickered.

He was reaching his limit.

His lips curled upward.

”Now this is what I was hoping for! Diana—take more of my blood!”

”Master... if I take any more, even you may not survive.”

”Who the hell are you talking to, Diana?!” he roared. ”Like I said before—I’m different from those weak fools! Take more! Don’t you dare sully this glorious battle with hesitation!”

Diana felt it.

His resolve.

His battle-lust.

His madness.

The needles sank deeper.

More blood flowed.

Victor’s skin grew pale.

The black cloak shifted—

Turning red.

Thick.

Violent.

Death energy surged like a storm.

With a roar, he swung again.

The scythe tore through the elemental torrent entirely.

The attack split apart, scattering into harmless fragments.

Victor stepped on compressed air once more—

And launched upward.

The Hydra, stunned that he survived, was too slow to react.

The scythe flashed.

Its wings were severed cleanly.

The massive body crashed to the cavern floor with a thunderous impact.

Victor descended with it.

One final arc.

The scythe passed through scaled neck.

Then another.

Then the central head.

The Void Tyrant Hydra’s body collapsed.

Its final sight—

Was Victor’s vicious smile beneath the red hood.

Its last thought flickered weakly:

Between the two of us... who was truly the monster?

—

Clara reached the edge of the chamber just as Victor landed.

She saw him standing over the Hydra’s fallen body.

Red cloak slowly shifting back to black.

The scythe fading.

The cavern silent once more.

She did not move.

Did not speak.

She simply stood at the edge of the stone stairs, breath caught in her throat.

He had faced that thing alone.

And won.

The red cloak fully faded.

Black once more.

And in the quiet aftermath, Clara thought—just for a moment—that she heard him murmur something softly toward the dissolving remains of the Hydra.

”Thanks for the battle.”