Apocalypse: becoming the hidden Ruler[English]

Sure enough, Axel quickly realized that although he was faster than Marcus, Marcus’s agility was on another level. The guy was slippery—always a step ahead, always dodging just in time.

“So, you’re forcing me to show my hand, huh?” Axel thought.

Up until now, he’d only revealed three things: his overwhelming Force, monstrous physique, and his healing-type awakening skill.

Swish. Swish.

Marcus was adjusting, adapting to Axel’s speed. And now, not only was he dodging, but he was lashing back with sword intent while on the move. The blade of Force only grazed Axel’s skin, barely drawing blood. Each time, his wounds sealed up almost instantly.

Axel narrowed his eyes and smiled. “So that’s your game. A war of attrition.”

The crowd caught on to Marcus’s strategy too.

“I’ve never seen Marcus fight like this,” someone murmured.

“This guy is such a bastard,” Colt growled. “A damn coward.”

“Winning’s winning.”

“Zara’s right,” Luke agreed, calm and collected.

But on the battlefield, Axel still didn’t change his approach. He kept charging in, reaching for Marcus.

Marcus, wary now, kept his distance. What is he waiting for?

Swish!

Axel came at him again, and Marcus instinctively swung his sword intent to intercept—but....

Suddenly, Axel accelerated.

Marcus’s eyes widened in alarm. His opponent blitzed right through his attack, ignoring the sweeping sword intent entirely.

Then came the fist. It was huge, fast, and aimed squarely at his chest.

Combat Technique: Inch Fist.

Boom!

It felt like he’d been run over by a freight train. His insides twisted painfully, and his body was sent flying backward.

He landed, skidding hard, barely staying on his feet. His vision swam. A coppery taste filled his mouth.

He coughed and looked up at Axel with a mixture of shock and grudging admiration. “You’ve got two awakening skills!”

Axel pulled his fist back and tilted his head. “Awakeners come in all flavors,” he added with a smirk. “You’ll see a lot worse down the road.”

Around the ring, the audience was in stunned silence—a few of teachers started muttering. “Did he just use a recharge-type awakening skill?”

“Could’ve been combustion, but paired with Inch Fist? Nah—way more likely it’s Recharge.”

“Shit… could he be a Simulation-type?”

“Captain Luke, so many real monsters in Whisper Syndicate.”

......

Marcus, for his part, forced a slow breath through his nose, steadying himself. That strategy’s done, he thought. If he hits me again like that, I’m finished.

His stance changed—no more retreat. This time, he held his ground.

The wind howled through the snow-drenched arena as Axel stepped forward again. Marcus didn’t budge.

Then suddenly, the Force around Marcus erupted, like a dam breaking. It wrapped around his body, swirling like a storm. The snow twisted violently in the air, spinning into a vortex centered on him.

For the first time, Axel slowed. A deep, primal warning sounded in his instincts.

Marcus didn’t say a word, but his skin was flushed, veins pumping with energy. He looked like he was burning from the inside out.

In the crowd, both Brandon and Varric rose to their feet simultaneously.

“He’s using that move…” Brandon muttered, his face darkening.

He’d told Marcus many times—don’t use that skill until you’re at least a third-tier awakener.

Swish!!

A piercing metallic screech echoed across the field—like a sword being unsheathed, only it was Marcus’s body making the sound.

Force condensed around him until his entire figure shimmered like a blade. The air warped. The snowflakes swirling around him were slashed apart, exploding into dust.

Axel’s pupils contracted. What the hell...?

He hadn’t expected Marcus, a level-two awakener, to unleash something this powerful.

“Genius,” Axel murmured. “A real fu*king genius.”

Even Luke, watching from afar, could feel the sheer sharpness cutting through the space between them.

Swish!

With another slicing screech, Marcus moved. Or rather—vanished.

He pierced forward like a living sword, crossing ten meters in an instant. The surrounding Force shaped itself into a spectral blade, descending from abovelike divine judgment.

“AXEL, MOVE!” both Luke and Varric shouted in unison as they rushed toward the stage. This attack could kill him.

In that moment, Axel was calm.

The air around him screamed with sword energy so intense it felt like his skin might peel off. Marcus’s blade was coming fast—less than five meters away now.

Axel didn’t flinch.

Recharge.

Phantom Step.

Force surged under his feet as Axel unleashed the newly-mastered movement skill.

Boom!

A shockwave exploded through the arena, ripping through the falling snow like a cannon blast. The ancient cold of Shiverstone, unmoved for centuries, howled with a strange, guttural cry. Even Luke and Varric, who had been rushing forward, stopped in their tracks.

As the smoke and snow slowly cleared, Marcus opened his eyes. His gaze landed bitterly on Axel, who now stood a few meters away, clothes tattered and flapping in the wind.

“So you’ve mastered three combat techniques...” Marcus’s voice was hoarse, there was no regret in his eyes—only the grim clarity of realization.

The moment Axel activated **Phantom Step**, Marcus knew he had lost.

His final attack had struck the energy barrier around the ring, not Axel. The recoil alone forced the blood he’d been holding in his chest to burst out from his mouth.

Axel approached with a quiet respect in his eyes. “Healing.”

Warmth radiated from his palm as he activated the skill on Marcus. The internal damage began to ease, color slowly returning to Marcus’s pale face.

Marcus looked up, his voice quiet but steady. “You’ve still got Force left?”

Axel nodded. “More than half, actually.”

Marcus went silent for a beat. Axel hadn’t meant to boast—but it hit like a hammer anyway.

“Any more trump cards?” Marcus asked after a moment.

Axel shook his head quickly. “No. Honestly… I was close to losing.”

“AXEL! HELL YEAH!”

Colt and Juno jumped up the moment the referee declared the match over. Their cheers echoed across the stunned arena.

Zara sat quietly, her eyes on Axel and Marcus, something close to envy flickering behind her calm expression.

The audience, though, remained dead quiet.

Marcus’s defeat was a bitter pill—one that not many could swallow.

Axel stepped to the center of the ring, the spotlight now fully on him.

“I’d like to say something.” He hadn’t forgotten his real mission: recruitment.

On the sidelines, Varric leaned toward Luke. “Captain… maybe just let it go this time? If Axel turns out to be another Quade, we’re screwed.”

Luke shook his head. “Let them decide for themselves.”

Quade, still brooding, muttered, “These people don’t even want to join the Whisper Syndicate. Why waste time?”

As if on cue, some students in the stands began to rise, heads down, silently walking away.

Brandon stood abruptly. His voice cracked across the arena. “Losing is losing! What the hell are you doing? SIT. BACK. DOWN!”

Those already standing reluctantly lowered themselves back into their seats, heads bowed.

The arena fell silent again, save for the wind whistling through Shiverstone’s peaks.

Axel took a breath, then began.

“Let me introduce myself. I’m Axel—a new member of the Whisper Syndicate.”

He spoke calmly, without arrogance, and that alone made the room shift. The wariness in many eyes softened slightly.

“Our mission here was simple—recruit talent to join the Syndicate..”

He paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment.

“And yes… the plan was to beat you all in combat.. A lot of us believe Warfare Academy students are full of pride—big dreams, small skills.”

The crowd stiffened. Faces hardened again.

“But…” Axel raised a hand. “After spending a few days here at Shiverstone, I started to question that mindset.”

His voice was clear, unwavering.

“I’ve never seen students training shirtless in subzero temperatures, willingly pushing themselves to the edge. I’ve never seen kids fighting mutant beasts on the regular—living every day on the razor’s edge between survival and death.”

He swept his gaze across the silent arena.

“And I realized—who the hell are we to judge you?”