“Haaa… Haa… Haa!”
Samael panted, still on his knees. His flushed face was drenched in sweat.
He felt lightheaded as every time he took a ragged breath, a sharp burning pain throbbed in his side.
He was sure at least one of his ribs was fractured.
It hurt.
His torso hurt so much that his legs trembled when he tried to stand.
That last attack from Reiner had really done a number on him. Those tentacles were fast and deceptively strong, each swing packing enough force to crush a car.
Without «Steel Hide», he had to be careful not to let them hit him again.
If not for his special Essence Circulation Technique that had already strengthened his body so much, he might’ve already been down for the count.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself back onto his feet, enduring the bone-deep ache in his ribs and adjusting his stance.
Pain, after all, was nothing new to him.
He had been in plenty of street fights all his teen life — fights where there were no rules, no mercy, no regard for safety.
He had both used and been subjected to unrestrained violence for as long as he could remember.
A broken bone or two didn’t faze him anymore.
He didn’t care about getting hurt as long as his enemy suffered more.
His clan’s martial arts tutors had tried to drill proper technique into him, scolding him for his reckless, self-destructive mentality.
They tried to teach him self-preservation — an instinct that should come naturally to any fighter — but he never learned it.
He just couldn’t.
To him, gain or loss didn’t matter in a fight. What mattered was victory and defeat.
If he left a fight crippled but his opponent couldn’t walk either, then that was a satisfactory outcome.
If he had to sacrifice his arms, his legs, his body — just for a chance to truly hurt his enemy, then that was fine with him.
Because in his eyes, to fight is to kill and everything else is just decoration.
If you strip away honor, tactic, and pride — combat at its core is just the act of ending lives before yours is taken.
That… was the first lesson and last lesson he learned from his father when he was a kid. And it had shaped his thought process ever since.
“Khuaa! Aghh!” Samael coughed violently, spitting out a few drops of blood.
Then… his bloodied red lips curled into a savage, vicious grin.
In the horrified silence that filled the arena, his opponents — at least the ones still standing — stared at him.
For the first time since this battle started, they looked visibly hesitant.
They still had the number advantage on him. He was clearly injured and hurt.
Yet, for some reason, they were now not so sure that they were easily going to win this.
Samael met their gazes with nothing but pure arrogance.
Then, slowly, he raised a hand and pointed at them — one by one.
And with that same bloodstained smirk, he curled his fingers, wordlessly beckoning them forward.
As if taunting them.
Daring them to come at him.
And they did.
Their expressions twisted — some with renewed determination, others with burning rage.
—Baang!
The first to move was their one remaining long-ranged fighter — the sharpshooter, Erwin Holt.
He aimed for Samael’s leg and fired. He ideally wanted to go for a headshot, but he knew better.
As Erwin had come to learn today, the golden-haired Ace’s instincts were unnatural.
Erwin could predict an opponent’s movements for the next three seconds, but his predictions were just that — predictions.
And predictions could change.
His ability worked best when his targets were unaware of him. Because the moment they noticed him, they would react.
And their reactions would alter his predictions.
It was similar to how observing a wild animal changes its behavior — once aware of being watched, it no longer acts predictably.
And Samael Kaizer Theosbane….
Well, his spatial awareness was outright absurd. He always kept track of Erwin’s movements, never letting him line up a clean shot.
It was frustrating.
No matter how heated the battle got, he would always keep his attention split on Erwin.
So when Erwin finally got a clear line of sight, he didn’t take unnecessary risks. A head was too small of a target. Too easy to move out of the way.
But a body shot was different. Even if it didn’t take Samael out, it would slow him down — giving his allies the opening they needed to finish the job.
And that was exactly what happened.
For just a split second, Samael’s focus wavered.
And that was all Erwin needed to fire a bullet.
Although Samael reacted fast — a fraction of a second before the gunshot echoed, he was still too slow to get out of the way completely.
He threw himself to the side, and the bullet that was meant to hit his knee struck his thigh instead, piercing flesh and lodging deep into muscle.
“Arghh!” He gritted his teeth as he hit the ground on a roll and glanced up to see the rest of his opponents charging in from all directions.
Okay. This was getting troublesome.
It was finally time he stopped holding back.
Yes, honestly, he hadn’t been going all out.
From the very start, he could’ve manipulated the terrain in such a way that could’ve isolated his enemies. Then, he could’ve picked them off one by one.
However, that would’ve been too much work.
He had figured he could handle them without going that far.
But clearly, he had underestimated them.
“Fine then,” he muttered to himself and firmly pressed his palms against the ground.
Calem and Doron — both of whom knew firsthand just how dangerous Samael was when given the chance to manipulate the terrain — rushed forward as fast as they could, desperate to stop him.
…But they were just a couple of seconds too late.
By the time Calem was anywhere near him, it was already too late.
Samael’s transmutation was complete.
In the next moment, the ground shifted.
First, within a thirteen to fifteen-meter radius around Samael, the solid stone floor rippled — turning almost fluid like the surface of disturbed water.
Then, without warning — it erupted.
Jagged spikes, massive logs, and towering obelisks shot up from the ground at chaotic angles.
Even as the first set formed, more burst forth — branching outward like growing concrete vines, sprouting new spikes and protrusions in erratic, unpredictable patterns.
In the span of a few heartbeats, the battlefield transformed into a twisted jungle of concrete.
Stone protrusions sprawled across the arena, wild and untamed, with Samael standing at its center.
Calem was hit by one of the erupting spikes. He managed to block its sharp, pointed edge with the flat of his blade, but the sheer force behind it still threw him back in the air.
Doron darted forward before Calem’s body even hit the ground, menacingly swinging his massive mace to destroy any incoming spikes in his path.
Stone shards rained down as he obliterated any jagged protrusions before they could impale him.
But Samael wasn’t done.
The moment Doron stepped closer, another set of obelisks burst forth, twisting unnaturally like living creatures.
The terrain shifted beneath his feet, throwing him off balance.
“Tch—!” Doron cursed inwardly and forcefully slammed his foot down to steady himself. He swung his mace again, smashing through another wave of spikes.
He barely managed to regain his footing again when Samael suddenly closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye.
But instead of attacking Doron directly, his hand reached toward the massive mace.
Doron’s eyes widened.
He instantly realized Samael was trying to destroy his weapon with his matter control, so he yanked it out of the golden-haired boy’s reach and jumped back.
However, just then, a sharp glint flashed in Samael’s eyes as two Cards materialized over his shoulder — «Vortex Pull» and «Barrier Breaker».
He activated «Vortex Pull» first, creating a powerful localized pull around him, drawing everything within five meters toward him like an unseen gravitational field.
Doron felt it immediately. A sharp tug yanking him toward Samael like iron nails to a magnet.
But he was too heavy — his body refused to budge. He slammed his feet down harder, resisting the pull with sheer brute strength.
…But then, his Item Card — one that had given his mace its form — flew away straight into Samael’s waiting hand.
Before Doron could react, Samael crushed the Card.
His weapon started dissolving into a swirling rain of light sparks.
Doron barely had time to process what had happened before Samael lunged forward.
With nothing left to defend himself, Doron swung at him with his bare fists — but Samael was already too close.
The golden-haired boy jumped high, driving his knee straight into Doron’s face.
A wet crunch echoed. Blood splattered across Samael’s shin as Doron staggered, dazed, his balance faltering.
But Samael still didn’t let go. He placed his other knee on Doron’s shoulder and practically mounted him.
Then, using the full force of «Barrier Breaker», he bashed a fist down into Doron’s face, breaking his nose with devastating force.
More blood spurted as Doron’s vision blurred. His massive frame swayed — then collapsed back to the ground.
Samael jumped off him as he fell and landed lightly.