A shockwave tore through the mirrored chamber as steel met steel.

From the instant the clash began, chaos swallowed the battlefield. The mirrors warped and multiplied their images—thousands of distorted reflections flickered across the walls, watching, twisting, whispering. The air grew heavy, oppressive, as though unseen hands pressed down on their chests, squeezing the breath from their lungs.

At the center stood the Heroes’ Slayer.

He did not move. He did not rush.

Clad in obsidian armor that pulsed with Abyssal energy, he was unmistakably shaped like Alioth—yet everything about him was wrong. Where the Blonde Hero once radiated warmth, this figure exuded a devouring void. His stillness was deliberate, his presence suffocating, as though he already knew every step they would take before they took it.

Then he moved.

He vanished.

Seth reacted on instinct. His bowstring snapped, releasing an arrow that screamed through the air in a perfect line toward the clone’s temple.

The shot never reached him.

Without even turning his head, the Heroes’ Slayer raised one hand and caught the arrow mid-flight. The motion was effortless—almost bored. His fingers closed.

The arrow crumbled into dust.

Seth’s breath hitched. “What the—”

That was all the time he was given.

Erik lunged with a snarl, his greatsword igniting in a blaze of Incidis fire. “Let’s see you dodge this!”

He closed the distance in a heartbeat, blade arcing down in a brutal strike aimed straight for the Slayer’s shoulder. Flames roared—

—and missed.

No. The strike hadn’t missed.

The Heroes’ Slayer had stepped aside at the precise instant, moving with inhuman precision. Erik’s blade passed through empty air, heat licking nothing.

The air hummed.

Darkness coalesced in the Slayer’s grasp, condensing into form. In an instant, a massive great axe tore itself from the void, its surface writhing with living shadows.

He struck.

The axe surged upward with monstrous force. Erik barely managed to raise his blade in time. The impact sent a violent shock through his arms, his knees buckling as he skidded backward across the glass-smooth floor, sparks spraying beneath his boots.

Then the force shifted.

Twisted.

Before Erik could react, the Slayer redirected the blow with a flick of his wrist, slipping past his guard in a blur of motion.

Pain exploded through Erik’s body as the blunt side of the axe smashed into his stomach. The impact hurled him backward like a discarded doll. He crashed into the mirrored wall, glass erupting into jagged shards as the surface shattered. He collapsed to the floor, gasping, ribs screaming in protest.

“Erik!” Klara shouted, reaching for him—

—but there was no time.

The Heroes’ Slayer had already turned away.

The axe dissolved into shadow as he advanced on Friedrich. Darkness rippled, reshaping itself into a greatsword—massive, heavy, alive with Abyssal energy.

Friedrich’s instincts screamed.

Fire roared along his blade as he struck first, unleashing a sweeping arc meant to halt the advance. The flames surged—

—and were swallowed whole.

The Abyss consumed the fire as if it had never existed.

Friedrich’s breath caught.

Then the Slayer was upon him.

Black steel fell like judgment.

Friedrich barely parried the first blow. The force rattled his bones, driving him backward, arms trembling as he struggled to maintain his grip. The second strike followed immediately—a horizontal slash aimed at his ribs. He twisted aside, but not fast enough.

The blade grazed him.

Fabric tore. Flesh burned.

Blood splashed across the mirrored floor.

Friedrich gritted his teeth and stayed upright—but the assault did not relent.

The weapon vanished.

In its place, a spear formed, darkness condensing into a lethal point.

A flash of Abyssal light.

The spear shot forward.

Klara moved without thinking. Her catalyst flew from her hand as a roaring gust tore through the chamber. Storm energy surged into existence, forming a barrier just in time.

The spear stopped inches from Friedrich’s heart.

Klara exhaled—

—and the barrier shattered.

The explosion sent both her and Friedrich tumbling backward. She barely regained her footing, breath ragged, heart hammering.

“His movements…” she whispered, eyes wide. “They’re too precise. He’s reading us.”

“Then we change the pattern,” Star said, her voice cutting through the chaos, fierce with resolve.

She surged forward.

Light erupted along her blade, flooding the chamber in radiant gold as she struck. Dark steel met divine brilliance, sparks tearing through the air. The mirrors cracked under the force of their clash.

Star pressed the attack, her strikes relentless, fluid, each motion honed by battle and will alike.

But the Heroes’ Slayer was faster.

Every thrust, every arc—he deflected or evaded with unnatural ease.

Still, Star did not falter.

She twisted, feinted left...

then reversed the motion, driving her blade upward in a sharp diagonal strike.

For the first time, the Slayer misjudged.

Barely.

His stance shifted. His blade tilted a fraction too far.

An opening.

Star seized it, lunging forward with a cry, her sword aimed straight for his chest...

...and stopped.

An invisible force clamped around her wrist, crushing and immovable. Abyssal energy pulsed outward, coiling up her arm like living tendrils. Cold seeped into her skin, numbing her fingers, stealing her strength.

For the first time, the Heroes’ Slayer spoke.

“Foolish.”

Darkness detonated.

Star was hurled backward, slammed through the air like a broken puppet. She landed hard, skidding across the floor, barely managing to stay on her feet. Her sword trembled in her grip.

The others scrambled to regroup.

The Slayer stood unmoving, crimson eyes empty, unfeeling.

“You still don’t understand,” he murmured. “This is meaningless.”

A dark aura poured from him, thickening the air, crushing, cold.

“You were never meant to win.”

He raised his greatsword once more, slow and deliberate.

“Now,” he said quietly, “let us end this.”

The mirrored chamber pulsed as Abyssal energy surged—

and the battle crossed into something far more dangerous.