Chương 6: To Kill

Gray jabbed a trembling finger at Shota.

"You… you're out of your mind!" Shota lifted both arms in a casual shrug.

"Who can stay sane in a world like this? Do you really think a sane man reaches Rank One? No. I lost the privilege of sanity the moment I was born an heir." He idly swung the unconscious man by his collar, letting the limp body sway back and forth.

"The only insane one here is this idiot, who actually entertained the idea of killing me. Now go on. End his life. You can rest easy knowing someone else would've done it eventually."

"No! I'm not doing it!" Gray staggered backward. Shota closed his eyes and let out a long, disappointed sigh.

"Is that so? Then perhaps this will motivate you." His eyes opened into a sharp glare.

"Either you kill this man, or I kill you." Gray flinched. What kind of demented psychopath had he stumbled across? His thoughts raced as he weighed the choice. His life or some random stranger's. Even if he complied, there was no guarantee Shota wouldn't kill him afterward. But a slim chance of survival was still better than none. Refusing meant certain death. Gray swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself into position. His hands shook as he leveled the rapier at the unconscious man's chest.

Then he lunged. The blade stopped inches from its target. Gray's entire body seized. His arms trembled violently, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force the point any farther.

"I…" His voice cracked. His gaze dropped toward his shoes.

"I won't do it." Shota clicked his tongue.

"Gray, it's not that you won't do it."

"It's that you can't." Shota flicked his hand. An invisible force seized the rapier. The weapon lurched forward, dragging Gray's arm with it. Gray shouted and fought against the pull, but his shoulder wrenched painfully as the unseen force completely overpowered him. The steel tip punched through the unconscious man's eye with a wet crunch. You have slain Fred Fodder. You have gained 212 Contribution Points. Gray released the rapier and it clattered across the bloodstained tiles. But it was already done.

The man was dead. And Gray's hand had delivered the final blow.

"What the hell?!" Gray roared, fury consuming whatever fear he had left.

"You fucking psycho!" He pivoted and threw his entire weight into a punch aimed straight at Shota's face. Shota didn't even blink. He raised one hand and caught Gray's fist effortlessly, stopping the strike dead inches from his cheek. Before Gray could wrench himself free and swing again, something crashed into the floor only a few feet away. The impact shattered the marble tiles beneath it, blasting dust and debris outward as a tremor ran through Gray's shoes. A figure knelt at the center of the crater.

As the dust cleared, Gray made out a woman clad almost entirely in gleaming silver plate armor. Her head was bare, allowing long silver hair to spill over her face and obscure her eyes. But the armor wasn't what held Gray's attention. It was the pair of enormous white-feathered wings extending from her back. The woman slowly rose and brushed the hair away from her pale face.

She appeared to be in her twenties, with sharp Caucasian features and an expression cold enough to kill whatever awe her entrance had inspired. A silver ring on her finger flashed, and a two-handed longsword materialized in her grasp. Gray tore his fist from Shota's hand, his anger momentarily eclipsed by the sheer spectacle of her arrival. Then her icy gaze locked directly onto him. The awe vanished. The winged woman dropped into a sprinter's crouch.

One hand planted flat against the ruined floor while the other held her longsword low at her hip, its tip leveled directly at Gray. With a deafening crack, she launched herself forward. The force of her takeoff shattered the tiles beneath her greaves and hurled dust into the air as she became a silver blur. By the time the haze settled, Gray found himself slumped against a caved-in wall. A heavy metallic weight pinned his legs—the winged woman lay sprawled across him, completely unarmed.

A few feet away, Shota stood holding her silver longsword. Gray stared in disbelief as she quickly scrambled off him. Name: Gwen Altair Class: Altair Level: 2 Rank: Awakened Ladder Rank: 2 Plaster dust and splintered wood slid from Gwen's armor as she rose. She brushed a chunk of debris from one shoulder, glared down at Gray, and drove a sharp kick into the side of his hip.

"Your scrawny build doesn't make for much of a cushion," she muttered, sweeping the hair from her eyes. Pain flared through Gray's side. He scowled and raised a middle finger.

"Nothing is cushioning your fat—" A violent cough cut him off. Blood sprayed across his pants.

"Here." Shota's calm voice sliced through the tension. He pulled a glass vial filled with red liquid from his dimensional ring and tossed it over. Gray barely caught the potion against his chest.

"Drink that." Shota stepped closer and looked down at Gray's crumpled form.

"I sincerely apologize for my acquaintance's behavior." Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Gwen whipped around.

"Why are you defending this Earthborn?!" she demanded, stabbing a finger toward Gray.

"He just assaulted you!" Shota waved her off dismissively.

"I was simply asking him to test his punch on me. Nothing more. You blew the situation completely out of proportion, Gwen." The anger vanished from her face, replaced by immediate embarrassment.

"I overstepped." Gwen lowered her head slightly.

"I apologize for acting out of line."

"No harm done!" Shota said brightly.

"It's not like anybody died, right?" His gaze drifted toward the corpse on the floor, a rapier still buried through its skull.

"Well…" Shota cleared his throat and looked back at Gray.

"Anyway, you seem to be recovering just fine. Isn't that right, Gray?" Gray forced a stiff nod. Ignoring the tremor in his legs, he popped the cork from the vial and swallowed the bitter liquid. Warmth spread through his chest almost immediately, dulling the pain enough for him to slowly push himself upright from the rubble.

"Before I leave," Shota said casually, "tell me something. How are you adjusting to your class?" Gray froze.

"What? My… my class?" His eyes narrowed.

"Why do you care about my class?"

"Now, now." Shota's tone remained smooth and reassuring.

"I'm only trying to help. You're struggling to manipulate your clouds, aren't you?" Gray's eyes widened.

"Y-yeah. How did you know?" His suspicion slowly gave way to genuine curiosity.

"The biggest mistake beginner Mistveil users make is trying to force the class into an offensive role by attempting to shape weapons out of clouds," Shota explained, resting the tip of Gwen's longsword against the floor. Gray rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"I'm assuming you made the attempt." Shota said.

"Unfortuantely, the Mistveil simply isn't built for offense." Gray arched a brow.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you will never gain a single offensive spell." Gray's expression twisted into a scowl. Was he really stuck with a purely defensive class? Was he doomed to throw out a puff of fog and run from every monster he encountered? Or worse, was his path meant for nothing more than basic utility? Was he essentially a human sprinkler, fit only for watering crops?

"Didn't Gozen tell you any of this?" Shota's question snapped Gray out of his downward spiral. Gray shook his head.

"He hasn't spoken a single word to me." Shota hummed sympathetically.

"To put it simply, mastering cloud manipulation at the Awakened rank is nearly impossible unless you're some once-in-a-generation prodigy. Because of that, your skill tree will revolve almost entirely around defense and evasion." Gray slowly exhaled. That offered at least a little relief. Apparently, his sole purpose wasn't agricultural. But the glaring problem remained: how was he supposed to survive this nightmare if he couldn't properly fight back?

"So I have to hide in my smoke just to survive?" Gray asked with a scowl. Using a haze to conceal himself and ambush an enemy sounded like a decent assassin tactic on paper. In practice, it seemed far less useful. Any opponent could watch him summon the fog, and even if they were caught inside it, they could simply walk out before Gray ever closed the distance.

"Your chances in a fair duel are slim, yes," Shota conceded, leaning comfortably against the hilt of Gwen's massive sword.

"But don't underestimate your escape options. Once you fill out your loadout using Ability Shards, your evasive capabilities will be unmatched."

"So I'm only good at running away." Bitterness crept into Gray's voice.

"How am I supposed to earn Contribution Points, then?" Shota wagged a finger.

"You're forgetting something important. The other participants are your enemies, but so are the Riftborn. And those monsters usually lack the intelligence of human opponents." His gaze drifted toward Fred's corpse.

"Well… usually." He looked back at Gray.

"Most beasts won't know how to react when you suddenly take away their vision. That's when you capitalize. Strike while they're blind and panicking." Gray nodded slowly, absorbing the advice in his head. The strategy made sense, except for one contradiction.

"You said my path is purely defensive. Then why is my vapor poisonous?" Gray asked.

"I took down an Ogre with it just a few hours ago." Genuine confusion crossed Shota's face.

"Poison?" His brow furrowed.

"You must be mistaken. Mistveil users don't possess toxic abilities."

"What?" Gray folded his arms.

"How does that make any sense?"

"You can test your smoke on me if you'd like," Shota offered. Gray immediately waved the suggestion away.

"No. I wouldn't want to do that to you."

"Are you sure?" A smirk tugged at Shota's mouth.

"Don't you want revenge on this 'psycho'?" He curled his fingers into exaggerated air quotes. Gray clicked his tongue as heat crept into his face.

"Look, your methods are messed up, but I understand your perspective. Besides, I'm probably extremely biased toward staying on your good side right now, considering you could cleave my head off with a single command." Shota burst into booming laughter, the sound echoing through the barren mall and its shattered storefronts. Beside him, Gwen folded her silver-plated arms and shot him a sharp look of annoyance.

"Alright, let's see this toxic smoke you keep talking about," Shota said, completely glossing over Gray's concern.

"You don't have to worry about us." Gray gave a reluctant shrug.

"Fine." He extended an open palm and focused on the Cloud Mastery ability. A faint warmth stirred in the center of his chest, quickly building into a rush of energy that coursed through his veins and surged down his arm. A dense stream of gray mist poured from his palm, spreading outward into a thick plume. The fog rolled across the food court and swallowed Shota and Gwen within seconds. To Gray, however, the dense shroud might as well have been transparent.

He could see everything inside with perfect clarity: Gwen scowling as she covered her nose and mouth with one gauntlet, while Shota cheerfully flashed him two thumbs-up.

"Alright, you've had your fun," Gwen muttered, her voice muffled behind her hand. She drew her massive white wings backward, folding them tight to build tension. Then, with a sharp, whip-like crack, she snapped them forward. A gust swept through the haze. Then sputtered out almost immediately, fading into little more than a breeze. The blast should have cleared the smoke entirely. Instead, it only thinned the cloud enough for Shota and Gwen's silhouettes to become faintly visible within the gray.

"What… what's wrong with my wind?" Gwen asked. A hint of panic slipped through her usually hardened demeanor.

"Huh?" Shota turned toward her blurred outline.

"I barely felt anything. Maybe being blinded threw off your concentration." Gwen cleared her throat into her fist as red crept into her cheeks. Without another word, she stomped out of the haze and into the clear air. Once outside the cloud, she pulled her wings back again and violently snapped them forward. This time, a razor-sharp gale ripped through the food court. The blast shattered the remaining windows in its path and tore through the gray mist, scattering it so completely that not a trace remained.

Shota crossed his arms and gave an exaggerated shiver.

"Seems fine to me. Still as chilling as ever."

"But—" Gwen began, her brow tightening.

"I don't think the wide-area plume has the poison effect," Gray interrupted, his thoughts racing as he tried to piece together what had happened.

"When I fought the Ogre, I spawned the smoke directly around its head. It started choking almost immediately." He looked toward Shota.

"Can I try that version instead?"

"Sure. Go ahead." Gray raised his hand and concentrated. He recreated the moment with the Ogre as precisely as he could, focusing all his intent on condensing the mist around a single target. A thick sphere of gray vapor materialized around Shota's head, completely swallowing his face. Shota didn't so much as flinch. He simply stood there, entirely unfazed. His posture remained loose and relaxed, and when the vapor finally dispersed, his expression hadn't changed in the slightest. Not a single cough.

Not even a watery eye. Gray's brow furrowed.

"Why didn't it do anything?" Shota gave a lazy shrug.

"Like I said, your class doesn't possess any active offensive abilities. Especially not anything poison-based." Gray exhaled sharply and raked a hand through his hair. If the smoke wasn't toxic, then what had killed the Ogre? Before he could dwell on it, another thought surfaced. Gray narrowed his eyes at Shota.

"If you don't mind me asking… how do you know so much about my class? Your last name is Kotetsu. Are you related to my mentor?"

"Hmm." Shota tapped his chin and let out an exaggerated hum.

"I don't want to spoil the fun. I'll let you figure that one out yourself." Before Gray could press him further, Shota clapped his hands together.

"Well, I believe it's time for us to depart. I had a good time, Gray. I hope you shared the sentiment." Shota sprang into the air. The rapier lying on the floor shot upward to meet him, leveling itself beneath his feet. He landed smoothly atop the blade as though stepping onto a surfboard, then accelerated through the food court and vanished through the department store's shattered entrance. Gwen's departure was no less dramatic. She bent her knees and lowered her stance, her wings arching upward in preparation.

An instant later, she launched herself after Shota. The force of her takeoff kicked up a wave of dust as she rocketed past Gray, the resulting gust whipping his clothes against his body. Then the mall fell silent. With the danger gone, the adrenaline drained from Gray all at once. His knees weakened, and he slumped against the wall before slowly sliding down to the cold tile floor. He let out a long, shaky breath and stared blankly at the ceiling. What the hell did I just go through…