Deus Necros

[Your Tyrant Blade Swordsmanship Proficiency has increased!]

Ludwig waved off the notification with a flick of his wrist, his focus razor-sharp as he parried another devastating strike from Haku. The clash of steel against steel reverberated through the arena, each blow sending shockwaves up Ludwig’s arms. His muscles burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, and yet his undead body refused to falter.

This was the first time he had seen true progress in his swordsmanship since he first wielded the one-handed scythe and chain. Every student he had faced before had been a stepping stone, but Haku was a mountain—a relentless, unyielding force that pushed Ludwig to his limits.

The notification flashed again, and Ludwig couldn’t help but smirk despite the dire situation. In just ten minutes of combat, his proficiency had increased three times. It was a testament to Haku’s skill, but also to Ludwig’s ability to adapt under pressure. Each strike, each dodge, each counterattack was a lesson, and Ludwig was learning fast.

But it wasn’t without cost.

Ludwig’s academy uniform was in tatters, the fabric torn and bloodied from countless near-misses. A deep gash ran along his left arm, and a fresh cut marred his right cheek, the warm slime that disguised his undead form oozing out like blood. His chest heaved, not from exhaustion—his undead body didn’t tire—but from the sheer intensity of the fight. Haku, on the other hand, looked almost pristine. His breathing was slightly irregular, but not a single scratch marred his clothes or skin. The difference in their appearances was stark, a visual representation of the gap in their skill.

“Fighting you with swordsmanship alone feels like a losing battle,” Ludwig muttered, his voice low but laced with determination. He stomped his foot down, the ground beneath him cracking as he channeled his mana. “Bounds of Latvia!”

Chains erupted from the ground, coiling like serpents as they shot toward Haku. But the second-year student was already moving, his reflexes honed to perfection. He leaped backward, the chains snapping at empty air. Ludwig didn’t hesitate. He flicked his wrist, sending the chain lashing forward like a whip. Haku raised his sword, deflecting the chain with a casual swipe, the force of the parry sending a jolt through Ludwig’s arm.

Haku didn’t give him a moment to recover. He charged forward, his sword gleaming in the arena’s light. The blade came down in a brutal arc, aimed straight for Ludwig’s head. Ludwig twisted his body, the sword whistling past his ear as he narrowly avoided the strike. He saw an opening—Haku’s wide swing left him momentarily exposed—and Ludwig moved to counter. But before he could strike, Haku did something unexpected.

He let go of his sword.

Ludwig’s eyes widened as Haku’s fist shot forward, connecting with a sickening crunch against his underjaw. The force of the blow lifted Ludwig off his feet, sending him sprawling several meters across the arena floor. His vision blurred, the world spinning as he hit the ground hard. For a moment, all he could see was the sky above, the clouds drifting lazily as if mocking his predicament.

[-258!]

[As an Undead, you cannot suffer unconsciousness!]

“That should be match,” Haku said, his voice calm but tinged with satisfaction. He stood tall, his sword now back in his hand, as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than a warm-up.

But Ludwig wasn’t done.

He blinked a few times, his vision clearing as he pushed himself up from the ground. His jaw ached, and he could feel the warm slime oozing from the damage. To anyone watching, it looked like blood, the Soul Letting Lantern masking his true nature. He spat out a glob of the substance, his grin widening despite the pain.

“Not so fast,” Ludwig said, his voice steady. “I’m not down yet.”

Haku raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “That’s… impressive,” he admitted. “Anyone else would have been knocked out cold. You’re a monster.”

“I’ve been hearing that a lot,” Ludwig replied, his tone light but his eyes sharp. He charged forward, his chain whipping through the air as he aimed for Haku’s sword. The chain wrapped around the blade, but Haku was ready. With a twist of his wrist, he slammed the sword into the ground, pinning the chain beneath it.

“Now you can’t use that chain anymore,” Haku said, his voice confident. He shifted his stance, his posture changing as he dropped into a martial arts stance. His fingers curled like the claws of a pouncing tiger, his movements fluid and predatory.

Ludwig’s mind raced. He still had his scythe, but he knew that getting close to someone as skilled in hand-to-hand combat as Haku was a death sentence. Yet, instead of retreating, Ludwig did the opposite. He charged forward, his scythe swinging in a wide, vertical arc.

Haku frowned. The move was reckless, almost foolish. It was easy to read, easy to avoid, and left Ludwig wide open for a counterattack. Trusting his instincts, Haku took half a step back, letting the scythe’s blade pass harmlessly in front of him. As the weapon descended toward the ground, Haku prepared to strike. Once the scythe hit the ground, Ludwig would be defenseless, and Haku would close the distance, ending the match with a decisive blow.

But something felt off.

As the scythe neared the ground, Haku’s eyes met Ludwig’s. The first-year student was grinning, a look of pure confidence on his face. Haku’s instincts screamed at him, but it was too late.

The moment the scythe’s blade touched the ground, three glowing orbs materialized at its tip. Explosive mines.

Haku’s eyes widened as realization dawned. He tried to move, but the mines detonated before he could react. The explosion was deafening, the force of the blast throwing Haku several meters backward. He hit the ground hard, his body skidding across the arena floor before coming to a stop.

Ludwig didn’t waste a second. He yanked his chain free from Haku’s sword, the weapon spinning through the air before landing neatly in his hand. He glanced at Haku, who was already pushing himself up, blood dripping from his nose. The second-year student pressed a thumb to one nostril, snorting out a chunk of blood before grinning.

“That was tight,” Haku said, his voice filled with admiration despite the pain.

Ludwig tossed Haku’s sword back to him, the blade spinning through the air before Haku caught it mid-flight. “Let’s keep going!” Haku shouted, his grin widening as he charged forward.

Ludwig met him head-on, his scythe and chain whirling as the two clashed once more, the arena echoing with the sound of their battle.