Time crawled for Aren. His fall seemed eternal. Despite the very foreign thought and meaning appearing in his mind — that the delta phase was initiated — he did not feel any different. Not that he was in any position to assess any changes.

His gaze was set on the opening created by the [Lightning Driver], and its rim of molten stone and burning wood. The impact was powerful enough to crack the shingles on the roof for several meters around the center. He couldn’t see anyone below, but he was certain that everyone was looking at the hole in the ceiling.

To be specific, what Aren was looking at was not the opening itself, nor where he would land, but Camille’s sword embedded into the ground. He could feel the channel between them, like an ionized path for electricity to flow through. It wasn’t really such a thing, but to Aren, it felt that way. His magic was based on lightning, and to understand its mechanics, he had to think of it in an electrical way.

He closed his eyes and chanted the mantra in his head: follow the path. His body moved on instinct like it usually did. He was aware of his actions, but they were entirely automatic. It was like a bolt of lightning, seeking the path of least resistance. Then the sequence completed in his buffer, and his surroundings flashed — not that he could see it with his eyes closed — and then he felt the firm ground underneath him.

This was [Current], the ability to move at extreme speeds through the channel formed from an object he charged with lightning energy. At least, that was the working theory. Whether he could move through all objects, charged by anyone was still untested, and whether he moved through something like an ion channel formed by leaders — lightning leaders — teleported or simply moved towards the object was also a mystery. But it felt that way to Aren; as if he was a lightning bolt.

The crossbowman noticed Aren first, and without warning, aimed the metal and wood crossbow at Aren. A red trajectory line emitted from the tip of the crossbow and burrowed through Aren’s neck. In fact, the red line had been there since before the crossbowman even pointed his crossbow at Aren. It was like some sort of combat prescience. It was different from the premonition, but it felt just as alien to the world of Singularity mechanics. This ability also most likely came from his artificial eye and the AGMI related to it.

Then the crossbow fired, launching a bolt shrouded in a white and blue glow towards Aren. Just in the nick of time, Aren retrieved Camille’s sword and placed it in the path of the bolt, angling it slightly. The bolt struck the sword and deflected off of it, flying off into the room.

Now, Aren could assess the situation. There were four combatants here, and the crossbowman was no longer a problem. His best course of action would be to throw away the crossbow and draw a melee weapon, but if he was greedy at all, perhaps he would try to fire off another shot.

The others were still recovering from the surprise of seeing Aren appear right there, while they were focused on the hole in the ceiling. One of them was a swordsman in thick plate armor, another one was a girl in lighter armor — even lighter than Estella’s — and the last person, who was also the important member, Aren sensed was a man wearing fur and cloth armor, wielding two axes.

Aren remembered something from his earlier years when he saw the dual axe wielding barbarian — one of the legendary combatants of Singularity was Eirik, a Blood Raider. Eirik used two axes and the forbidden school of Blood Magic — which was also the reason why he got into so many fights with other adventurers. No one really knew what happened to Eirik; he disappeared three or four years ago. He never appeared in any official professional matches. Some say that he disappeared because he was a Calamity, and someone banished him. However, a few years after he disappeared, videos — classified, most likely, until that point — appeared, containing many of the duels and raids Eirik fought. When they said that he was one of the best, they truly meant it. Those videos not only popularized the Berserker and Barbarian classes — both dual-wielding axes — but also the search for obtaining the much frowned-upon forbidden magics.

Remembering that, and how devastating dual axe wielders could be, Aren really wanted to kill the important member first, but he was standing too far. Aren could likely do it, but he would probably die immediately afterward, killed by the others.

The closest one was the plate-warrior. A Paladin most likely. Traditional warriors did not like plate armor for several reasons. It was too hot, too heavy, and too expensive to repair. For the traditional warrior, standing in the front line was a given, and paying gold and platinum to repair every dent in the armor was something they could not afford. Because warriors worked with Spiritual Energy, which was related to their physical energy, becoming exhausted because of heavy armor also meant that they, to put it bluntly, became useless in combat. Paladins, on the other hand, used Divine Energy to fuel their abilities, so they could fight in heavy armor, and they were safe enough in the front lines — especially with the help of divine shields and armors of faith — that they did not have to repair their armor too often.

With Aren’s target selected, it all happened in the span of five or six seconds.

Aren did not recall his deployed territory, or use its buffer — he wanted to hide as many of his abilities as he could get away with, but show enough to intimidate them. So he stepped forward, planting his foot firmly on the ground, with his center of gravity low. It hurt tremendously to move, so he wanted to finish this before the debilitating effects of his unhealing wound crippled him.

Lightning flashed around his sword, forming a coronal discharge on the very tip of the blade. The Paladin, perhaps sensing the incoming attack, began bringing his shield up and positioning it in front of his chest and neck.

Aren slashed upwards, and diagonally to the right as the sequence for [Lightning Divider] formed in his buffer.

Several damage notifications popped up in Aren’s mind, all related to the deafness he had just inflicted on everyone in the room, including himself.

Vaporized and molten metal joined the fountain of blood that splashed across the stone walls of the townhouse, as the grotesque remains of the Paladin fell to the ground, cloven in two — armor, shield, flesh, bones, and all.

The stench of burning flesh mixed with the ozone, as well as the toxic vapor of metal which had already begun to cool down and fall to the ground like rain — barely visible to the normal human eye — and forming little beads and perfect spheres of metal on the ground.

Aren turned on his heel, and his diagonal upward slash was followed by [Falling Moon], a downward chop technique from Reaping Sword that could significantly alter his momentum. The female adventurer was not prepared for how quickly Aren turned around and attacked her, and had until that point been attempting to find a good position to attack Aren from. When she saw Aren turn, she brought her longsword up to parry. It did not help, as the bloodforged blade carved through the adventurer’s weapon, split it down the middle, and then through the adventurer’s right shoulder, ribs, and vital organs.

[ Injury inflicted. Severity: Debilitating mortal wound. Right arm immobilized. Lungs destroyed. ]

The adventurer’s expression was a mix of surprise and fear. She had that expression even before Aren mortally wounded her. The Paladin’s face was concealed by his visor, but Aren also had the impression that there was not that much fighting will or intent in him. This made Aren wonder — very briefly — whether or not these people were combat experts at all, but he quickly dismissed those thoughts.

The crossbowman had begun reloading, choosing the more destructive option for his team. Had the crossbowman drawn his sidearm and charged Aren, it would’ve raised their chances of success much higher.

Was this how Ame saw battles? In terms of correct choices, chances, and probabilities?

Freeing his sword, Aren’s buffer nearly went into recovery mode as he completed the large-scale sequence for [Lightning Driver]. It would be the last one he could manage until his buffer cooled down, but in this situation, it was a necessary evil.

Aren threw the bloodforged blade at the crossbowman, and from the moment it left his fingertips and impacted somewhere hundreds of meters away, less than a second passed. The sword left trails of electrical sparks in its wake, molten metal, stone, wood, and charred flesh. The crossbowman had a neat, perfect hole in his chest and an expression that betrayed his surprise as he dropped dead on the floor.

Then Aren saw the Barbarian narrow his eyes, perhaps seeing an opportunity to strike at a disarmed, one-armed Aren. He raised his right arm above his head, the axehead gleaming in the Divine Light pouring down through the hole in the roof, and Aren sighed in relief.

Throwing away his sword was a tactic that was necessary for his victory. Had the Barbarian struck with his left arm, Aren would’ve had to have used [Halo] to counter it, which would’ve likely locked him out of his buffer. Judging by the way the Barbarian walked and moved, Aren — or at least his artificial eye — knew that his final opponent was right-handed. Throwing away the sword was to eliminate the crossbowman and entice the Barbarian to use his dominant hand. After all, who would expect a one-armed swordsman to be good at unarmed combat — at least to the point where it was effective against a close combat specialist?

Aren’s buffer immediately went into recovery mode as the [Lightning Carver] sequence completed, and his hand shrouded in lightning slashed upwards, at the exposed wrist of the Barbarian, severing the hand there and launching the axe towards the ceiling.

Aren’s hand then plunged into the Barbarian’s chest. Immediately, his opponent dropped his other axe, and coughed up blood onto Aren’s arm. Aren watched his eyes for a moment longer, before ripping out the Barbarian’s heart.

Aren scoffed at the Barbarian. It wasn’t as much of a bluff as the words meant for Ytra were, but it was much easier against a mortal. In that moment, Aren truly did embody a reaper — an angel of death — that could cut down mortals with apparent ease. But it still was a bluff. All of this was. His dismissive demeanor, his harsh words to Ytra, it was all a brave face he put up to project this image of himself. We are Exalt, and this is what we can do, was the message he wanted to send.

And just like that, it was all over.

The light pouring through the hole in the ceiling slowly began to dim and wane, replaced by the silver glow of emerging moonlight. This battle started in the twilight and ended in the evening.

[ Your reputation with the Pantheon of Light has improved. ]

[ The Goddess of Battle, Aurora, is pleased with your feats and She wishes to become the Patron of your Clan: Your bravery, in the face of such hardships, and your deeds and efforts are most impressive. I do not wish to see you falter now. Let Me be your guide and your Light; Nothing will then be impossible for you. Become My Chosen, and a hundred thousand battles will be yours. Beseech Me at My Temple and dedicate this battle to Me, so that you may rest and let Me lighten your burdens. ]