The sharp stab of pain bloomed behind his eyes.
He staggered back, almost tripping over a tree root. Red fog began to appear in the forest and converge on him.
Fight. Kill. Murder. War. Evolve. Blood. Attack.
The words crashed through his thoughts, looping again and again.
They didn’t feel foreign and instead felt like his own thoughts.
A shudder tore through him. Something– someone was forcefully fusing with him.
He dropped to one knee, sweat pouring from his brow.
“This… isn’t part of the fusion,” he said, gritting his teeth.
All this time, he’d thought that fusing with the berserk death elemental would raise his existence level.
But now that presence was doing the ‘fusion’, he realized a horrible truth.
The berserk death elemental weren’t fusing with him. They were erasing him, slowly and thoroughly.
His existence level was not being increased.
His existence was being replaced by a stronger, higher existence.
“Damn it…” He forced himself to his feet. “Were the berserkers of the Alliance faking being a fusion between the person and the berserker death elementals?”
From what he had heard, the berserkers were insane.
But their behavior, their mannerisms, and their aura would be similar to their self before they became berserker.
“The Berserker Death Elementals took over their existence and then acted like them?”
The thought sickened him.
No Death elemental should be capable of this kind of deception. That wasn’t in their nature. Death didn’t lie. It didn’t manipulate. It simply was.
So who was behind this?
Before he could chase that thought any further, the pressure in his skull eased. The foreign thoughts stopped clawing at his mind.
Then the mist in front of him began to stir.
It transformed into a hazy, red humnoid figure. Thick, rolling mist, crackled at its edges with flickers of crimson light.
The presence inside his mind was no longer hiding.
“Man…” the figure said, voice half-surprised. “What kind of person did they send this time that I can’t even take over his mind easily?”
Nameless Death didn’t answer.
He prepared himself for a fight.
The mist ignored his caution and leaned forward, sniffing at the air like a predator that had caught the scent of something new.
“Ho?” it said, suddenly intrigued. “What’s this? You don’t have a Fate.”
Its head tilted.
“Is this the technology the people of this era use, or… no. No, this is real. You truly don’t have a Fate.”
The mist grinned.
“How did the Eternals miss an Ashborn like you?”
That word Eternals slammed into him like a hammer.
Rage surged from deep within him. He didn’t know why the name made his soul roar, but it did.
His fists clenched. “You know them?”
The mist pulled back slightly.
“Ho? You remember the name Eternal?” A low chuckle followed. “Ah, I see. You must be a Heavenbreaker. Looks like the people of this era aren’t half-shabby after all.”
The amusement on its face twisted into a sense of anticipation.
Without warning, it dashed forward.
A fist—larger than it had any right to be—smashed into Nameless Death’s chest, sending him flying through three trees before he could react.
He crashed into a hillside, dust and bark exploding around him.
The ground shook.
He sprang back to his feet and barely blocked the next strike. His arms trembled from the force. The next punch came low, then another followed from the side.
Each hit felt like it was meant to tear him apart.
The sensation of battle was jarring.
Nameless Death’s body reacted on instincts but his technqiues wouldn’t come to him.
With nothing else to use, he poured endless World Energy into his body, reinforcing it.
His fists glowed
He dodged one strike and landed a solid blow to the red mist’s side. It twisted slightly, then laughed.
“Not bad,” it said. “But you’re not using all of it. Don’t hold back.”
Nameless Death didn’t respond.
He focused, drew in more energy, and pushed his body past its limits.
His movements sharpened, as if he was recalling his battle experiences.
His steps became faster. He dodged the next punch and landed a series of clean hits.
They exchanged tens of thousands of blows in seconds. Each impact shattered trees, tore into the hills, and left the forest around them in ruins.
But he was still falling behind.
The Berserker didn’t slow down. If anything, it became more aggressive the longer the fight dragged on.
A mad grin stretched on his face as his punch struck Nameless Death in the ribs. He flew back again, landing hard, coughing blood.
The Berserker didn’t chase him this time. It floated in place, arms folded.
“You’ve got potential,” it said. “But why aren’t you using any Intent techniques? Come on, bring out the big guns.”
Nameless Death stood up, wiping the blood from his chin. His vision was swimming slightly, but he forced it into focus.
“What are Eternals?” he asked.
The berserker watched him for a second before he replied. “You want answers? Fine. I’ll make you a deal.”
He cracked his knuckles.
“Entertain me. Defeat me, and I’ll give you answers. All of them.”
His eyes lit up with savage glee.
“Though, honestly, the chances are much higher that you’ll just become another name lost to my fists.”
Nameless Death didn’t respond. He lunged forward instead and attacked.
The berserker met him halfway. Their collision shook the air.
What followed wasn’t a graceful duel or a contest of refined techniques.
It was raw violence.
The berserker fought like a force of nature, each punch coming with weight enough to shatter bones. And shatter they did.
Nameless Death was fast, but it didn’t matter.
The berserker was stronger, tougher, and infinitely more savage. His attacks weren’t elegant, but they were overwhelming.
A punch to the ribs collapsed one of Nameless Death’s lungs.
A twist of the arm tore it out of its socket.
A brutal knee shattered his jaw.
Again and again, his throat was torn open, chest caved in, limbs broken only to heal moments later.
Nameless Death fought back, but the difference was obvious.
The berserker wasn’t just stronger. He was enjoying himself in the dance of savagery.
Nameless Death gritted his teeth as he tumbled across the cracked ground.
Blood coated his body, and pain filled every breath.
This wasn’t going to work.
Taking hits, healing, and repeating it would only delay the inevitable.
He needed something more.
He needed power of his own.
Closing his eyes for a split second, he reached inward towards his Seed of Existence.
The fact that he could heal – rebuild his broken body – meant there had to be something inside it.
Perhaps it was a technique, or a Spell, or a Sacred Treasure. Even an Affinity would be fine.
But when he tried to perceive the central layer, he was blocked by a sealed wall.
The berserker noticed his pause. At first, he looked annoyed, as if the fun was ending. But then his brow lifted.
A soft laugh escaped him. “Hah? What’s this?”
Nameless Death was glowing.
His entire body began to blaze with white flame. Light poured off him like he was being consumed from within.
His skin cracked under the pressure, and lines of energy danced across it like veins of lightning.
“You’re going to overload yourself? Is that how you are planning to defeat me?” the berserker barked a laugh. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! That’s the kind of madness I respect!”