Reborn as a Hated Noble Family, We Start an Industrial Revolution

​THUD!

​Rianor landed heavily in the center of the arena. White sand kicked up into the air, forming a curtain of dust. His knees bent slightly, absorbing the momentum of the drop, before he straightened his posture.

​On his right hand, the pulsing Mana Glove had turned completely white. An absolute, blinding white.

​”What in the...” Liana stared at the man’s back from a distance. Her voice was nearly swallowed by the thunderous roars of the demons.

​Rianor’s presence triggered an instant reaction. The three demons surrounding Liana abruptly stopped. Their burning red eyes shifted in unison toward this new figure. One of them—the most massive of the trio—let out a low, vibrating growl.

​Vrrrrnggg... The sound did not originate from normal vocal cords. Rather, it was a foul, psychic vibration that crawled through the air, drilling directly into the skull of anyone who heard it.

​Rianor didn’t flinch. His eyes darted rapidly left and right, scanning the threat level of the three monsters in a fraction of a second.

​Then, his gaze fell upon Razan.

​The youth was struggling desperately to get up. His knees shook violently; his palms clawed at the sand. His body convulsed as he fought through the agonizing pain tearing at his chest. Tiny sparks of lightning still tried to ignite at his fingertips—bzzzt... bzzzt...—but it was nothing more than the residual embers of despair. There was no destructive power left behind them.

​”Razan! Stay down!” Liana screamed, her voice cracking.

​Too late.

​The demon on the left folded its wings and lunged. Its pitch-black claws, wreathed in dark energy, slammed squarely into the unfortunate youth.

​CRASH! Razan’s body was violently launched through the air, smashing into the arena’s boundary wall hard enough to crack the stone. Fresh blood sprayed from his mouth, staining the white sand crimson. His body rolled once, then... went entirely still.

​”RAZAN!!” Liana forced her legs to run toward her former student, but the second demon instantly darted in to intercept her. It spread its black wings arrogantly, completely blocking Liana’s path.

​Rianor recorded everything. The pool of blood seeping into the sand around Razan. Liana’s desperate scream. The arrogant roars of the hellish monsters.

​Inside his head, strings of code began to fall like digital rain.

​Demon claw frequency: Unstable. Fluctuation range between 3.1 Hz and 4.7 Hz. Mana density structure: Condensed at the base, spreading corrosively at the trajectory’s edge. Characteristics: Similar to melting steel. Status: Copiable.

​The third demon—the largest of the three—dive-bombed straight toward Rianor. It raised its right claw high, concentrating a swirling vortex of pitch-black energy at its fingertips. Ready to cleave Rianor’s body in two.

​Expressionless, Rianor raised his Mana Glove to meet the strike.

​The demon’s claw code flowed into the Mirror Attribute—absorbed, processed, reconstructed, and expelled back out. The Mana Glove acted as a catalyst, exponentially amplifying the raw output.

​The very next second, an identical, jet-black claw erupted from Rianor’s right hand. It wasn’t some cheap, transparent imitation. It was an exact replica. In fact, its aura was vastly larger and denser.

​The demon swung its claw. Rianor countered with an upward swing of his mimicked claw. The two dark energies collided brutally in mid-air.

​KABOOM!!

​A black shockwave exploded with devastating force. The sand around them was swept completely clean, exposing the bedrock of the arena floor. Rianor was pushed back three steps by the recoil, while the giant demon staggered one step back.

​Original Power vs. Replica: 100% vs. 120%. Mathematically speaking, I am stronger, Rianor noted coldly.

​But the monsters didn’t give him a moment to breathe. The second demon ambushed him from his lateral blind spot. It didn’t use a physical claw attack; instead, it unleashed a Void Roar.

​SKREEEEECH!!

​The invisible psychic shockwave slammed squarely into the side of Rianor’s head.

​Roar frequency: 11.3 Hz. Wave structure: Dispersed, AoE, unfocused. Difficulty: High to copy due to non-physical manifestation. Status: Still copiable.

​Rianor squeezed his eyes shut. Behind his closed eyelids, strings of numbers danced frantically. He wasn’t copying the Void Roar to attack back. He copied it with one singular objective: Wave Phase Cancellation.

​Two psychic waves with precisely opposite frequencies collided in the air. The result? Absolute noise cancellation. They negated each other down to zero.

​The second demon froze abruptly in mid-air. It tilted its head to the left, visibly confused. Throughout their entire existence, no human race had ever neutralized a Void Roar in such a peaceful manner.

​”W-what did you just do?” Liana whispered in disbelief. The woman was still trapped behind the first demon, powerless to reach Razan’s body.

​Rianor didn’t answer. He opened his eyes, staring straight at the three demons. Then, slowly, he looked up at the torn sky above the Colosseum.

​Up in the stands, hysterical screams and desperate evacuation struggles still raged wildly. But inside Rianor’s mind, absolute silence had been achieved. All the fragments of code had gathered. All the frequencies he had harvested from everything he had witnessed... were now neatly compiled.

​Fire: 4.2 Hz. Lightning: 7.8 Hz. Ice: 1.3 Hz. Earth: 0.9 Hz.

​Dark Claw: 3.1-4.7 Hz. Void Roar: 11.3 Hz.

​Everything could be copied. And most importantly... everything could be fused.

​The Mana Glove on Rianor’s hand suddenly glowed exponentially brighter. That absolute white light no longer remained confined to his palm; it crept upward, encasing his entire right arm like armor forged from starlight.

​”Liana,” Rianor called out. His voice was incredibly calm, yet it resonated across the sand. ”Step away from there.”

​Liana turned. There was an absolute authority in the man’s intonation that forced her muscles into unquestioning submission. Biting her lip, Liana dragged her numb right leg, retreating as far back to the edge of the arena as possible.

​The three demons, sensing the extreme threat radiating from that white glow, instantly dove to attack in unison. A stone-cleaving black claw, a brain-shredding Void Roar, and a storm-summoning flap of wings—all directed at a single focal point: Rianor.

​And in that exact second... Rianor unleashed the Spectrum.

​His right arm erupted, vomiting forth a magical masterpiece. It was not a single element. It was everything.

​Crimson fire swirled wildly to form the first orbital ring. Blue lightning crackled fiercely in the second. Ice crystals as sharp as diamonds orbited the third. Jagged stone shards spun in the fourth. And right in the center of that miniature galaxy—sat the absolute darkness belonging to the demons, forcefully subdued and bound by the structural architecture of the Mirror Attribute.

​A miniature galaxy of annihilation resting in the palm of one hand.

​Rianor swung it straight forward. SWOOOSH!

​The Spectrum wave surged. It wasn’t a sporadic explosion, nor was it a laser beam. It was a cosmic deluge—an impossible amalgamation of blinding light and pitch-black darkness rolling forward in perfect unison.

​The three demons were struck head-on by the wave.

​They weren’t even granted a fraction of a second to roar in agony. There was no opportunity to evade. Their massive bodies were unraveled. Erased.

​Particle by particle, starting from their black claws, their webbed wings, down to their horned heads... everything was peeled away into dark grey ash that was instantly scattered by the arena wind.

​Silence.

​A suffocating silence suddenly gagged the entire Colosseum.

​In the northern stands, Dom halted the swing of his greatsword in mid-air. The demon in front of him—which had been parrying his strikes until now—had just evaporated into black ash from the residual wave of the Spectrum. But Dom’s eyes weren’t focused on the dust of his enemy. His gaze was pinned to the bottom of the arena.

​Naya, standing beside him, slowly lowered her twin daggers. Her breathing was wildly erratic. ”W-what... what kind of insane magic was that...?”

​”That is Lord Rianor,” Dom cut in softly, his tone laced with absolute reverence.

​In another section of the stands, elite instructors and members of the Fire Arcanum had just brought down their respective opponents. Two demon carcasses lay smoking on the shattered marble floor. But no cheers of victory left the lips of those great mages. Their jaws dropped, staring agape at the center of the arena.

​Eva was still leaning near the exit. Her Scarlet Aura had completely extinguished. Her left shoulder throbbed with a burning pain as if doused in vinegar. Yet, her silver eyes didn’t blink once as she stared at Rianor’s figure.

​Adul—who had been curled up trembling behind Roland’s knees this whole time—murmured with a hoarse voice. ”Lord Rianor... he... Lord Rianor can actually use magic...?”

​On the white sand of the arena, Liana collapsed to her knees. Warm tears streamed down her cheeks, streaking the dust and blood on her face. She wasn’t crying in celebration of her survival; she was mourning Razan, who lay stiffly beside her.

​The youth’s eyes were open, staring blankly at the sky. However, at the corner of Razan’s bloodstained lips... rested a faint smile. A final smile of relief from seeing his mentor safe before his life was truly extinguished.

​”You... you actually did it,” Liana sobbed hoarsely.

​In the center of the arena, Rianor’s body swayed violently. He staggered backward. The Mana Glove on his arm dimmed drastically. The absolute white faded back to an ocean blue, and then the blue died out into a dull grey. His head spun wildly. He was on the verge of collapsing.

​However, the surprises were not over yet.

​Atop the highest structure of the Colosseum, two silhouettes had just manifested against the purple twilight.

​They stood arrogantly upon the peaks of the stone pillars. Their grand robes fluttered majestically in the wind. The first was an exceptionally cold-looking woman with silvery-blue hair. Her eyes were as deep and freezing as the ocean floor. The second was a giant of a man, draped in a rough-textured brown cloak, his arms crossed arrogantly over his chest.

​Selene. Orion.

​Two Master Arcanum.

​Neither uttered a single word. Their gazes merely swept over the carnage below.

​There were still three remaining demons thrashing in panic—two in the upper stands, and one trying to crawl away toward the main corridor.

​But before those monsters could even flap their wings, Selene simply raised her index finger. Ssshk! Dozens of high-pressure, solid water chains shot out from the moisture in the air, wrapping around the necks and limbs of all three demons simultaneously.

​At the exact same moment, Orion clenched his right fist tightly. CRACK! Three earthen pillars, as sharp as spearheads, ripped through the marble floor, impaling the demons like meat on skewers. Selene’s water chains pulled; Orion’s earth pillars tore.

​The three remaining demons were ripped to shreds in less than three seconds. No struggle. No tension.

​Orion lowered his smoking hand. ”A total of ten anomalous demons. All sent back to hell.”

​Selene didn’t acknowledge the report. Her icy eyes locked straight down, piercing the distance, staring intently at the staggering figure of Rianor.

​”Demonic Knowledge,” Selene murmured softly. Her voice was as gentle as a babbling brook, yet its echo could be heard clearly amidst the deafening silence of the Colosseum.

​Orion followed his partner’s gaze. He snorted softly. ”Hoo. That little rat... is quite tough.”

​”More accurately... he is highly intriguing.”

​The two of them leaped down from the impossible height of the stone pillars. They landed on the arena sand completely weightless, stopping merely a few meters in front of Rianor.

​Rianor stared back at the two figures. His Mana Glove was completely dead, devoid of all power. His physical tolerance limit had breached the critical threshold.

​Up above, Roland stood frozen at the edge of the spectator railing. His brother’s face was unbearably tense, his breath caught in his throat. Their eyes met, locking onto each other.

​In the last fading shreds of his consciousness, Rianor pulled the corner of his lips up. A microscopic smile—a cryptic, mysterious smirk whose secret was understood only by Roland.

​And with his task complete... Rianor’s knees finally gave out.