Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The Sovereign Spire's Combat Arena was shrouded in the faint orange light of dawn, its reinforced stone platforms glistening with a thin sheen of morning dew. Towering runic pillars lined the arena's edges, faintly glowing to absorb and stabilize stray impacts. The air was cold, sharp, biting against Rui's exposed skin.

Rui stood barefoot on the frost-kissed stone, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. He wore nothing but a sleeveless training tunic and weighted cuffs strapped tightly around his wrists and ankles. The black cuffs pulsed faintly with stabilizing runes, each one acting as a dead weight on his movements.

Across from him, Fenrir stood with his arms crossed, his sharp predator's gaze boring into Rui like a wolf sizing up prey. His dark training coat hung loose, and his boots were planted firmly against the platform. Despite his casual stance, an undeniable tension radiated from him—a coiled spring waiting to snap.

"Two weeks and you've come far, boy," Fenrir said, his gravelly voice carrying across the arena. "But refinement isn't about how fast you can move—it's about how efficiently you can strike."

Fenrir kicked a metal training pole into the arena. It landed with a heavy clang, standing upright with runes etched into its steel surface. Rui narrowed his glowing silver eyes at the pole, watching how the runes began to hum faintly.

"No mana. No aura. No tricks," Fenrir said, his voice cold as iron. "You will strike that pole until it shatters—or until you do."

Rui exhaled slowly, his breath misting in the frigid air. His muscles were already sore from days of relentless sparring, and the cuffs weighed down his arms and legs with every slight motion. But there was no hesitation in his steps as he approached the pole.

He drew back his arm, muscles flexing, and threw his first punch.

Clang!

The impact reverberated through his arm, rattling his bones. Pain shot up his knuckles, but Rui clenched his jaw and steadied his breathing.

"Again!" Fenrir barked.

Clang!

Clang!

Clang!

Hours passed in that repetitive rhythm. Rui's knuckles were raw, his shoulders burned with every swing, and his legs trembled under the weight of the cuffs. Every punch felt like striking a mountain with his bare hands. But each strike carried more precision, more intent.

Fenrir's sharp eyes missed nothing. He barked corrections when Rui's stance wavered, or when his weight shifted incorrectly. But when Rui landed a perfectly aligned strike that made the pole tremble, Fenrir said nothing—only nodded slightly.

At midday, Rui's body was drenched in sweat, and his breaths came in sharp, ragged bursts. He knelt on one knee, clutching his trembling fist.

Fenrir approached him, boots echoing against the stone floor.

"You've stopped thinking about your strikes. That's good. But you're still holding back."

Rui looked up, his silver eyes glowing faintly with exhaustion and determination. "If I give everything in one strike, I'll break something."

Fenrir crouched down, their gazes locking. "Then you're thinking again, boy. A predator doesn't hold back because it might snap a fang—it bites because it must. Stop worrying about your limits. When the time comes, your body will obey your intent."

Fenrir rose, walking away. "Tomorrow, we start again."

As Rui sat there, knuckles bloodied, muscles trembling, he felt it—the faint hum of resilience settling deep within him. His body was adapting, hardening, becoming something more than flesh and bone.

---

The sterile light of Kovar's mana lab was cold, clinical, and unyielding. Crystal panels hovered above Rui's shirtless body, displaying flickering streams of his mana pathways and the faint glow of the Mana Wells etched into his spine, shoulders, and wrists.

Kovar stood at the crystalline control platform, his glass brain dome flickering with streams of cascading data. His pale eyes flicked rapidly between the readings, his gloved hands dancing across floating holographic runes.

"Your Mana Wells are stable, Rui," Kovar said, his voice sharp and focused. "But stability is not enough. Today, we test resilience under dynamic pressure."

The platform Rui lay on tilted slightly upward, and thin conduits extended from the ceiling, hovering just above his bare skin. Each conduit glowed faintly with raw, untethered mana.

Rui closed his eyes briefly, exhaling slowly as he felt the hum of his Mana Wells resonating deep within him.

"Begin," Kovar said.

The first conduit flared, releasing a thin stream of concentrated mana directly onto Rui's spine. The energy was sharp, raw—it clawed against his Mana Wells, testing their integrity. Rui's breath hitched as he guided the energy inward, letting it sink into the Mana Wells lining his spine.

"Focus on the flow," Kovar instructed. "Do not let it pool. Guide it, stabilize it, distribute it evenly."

The second conduit activated, then the third. Rui's body trembled slightly as he directed the chaotic streams into his Mana Wells. His spine glowed faintly, the runes etched into each vertebra shimmering as they absorbed and redistributed the energy.

The air in the lab grew heavier as the conduits poured more energy into Rui's body. Sweat beaded on his temples, his chest rising and falling sharply as he maintained focus.

But then—one of the conduits pulsed erratically. The energy surged suddenly, destabilizing the balance Rui had maintained. His body jerked slightly, his teeth gritting as the overload threatened to rupture one of the Wells.

"Redirect it!" Kovar's voice cut through the haze of pressure. "Focus on your pathways—don't let it break free!"

Rui's glowing silver eyes snapped open, the runes within them flaring brightly. He gritted his teeth and visualized the rogue energy threading through his pathways. Slowly, deliberately, he directed the unstable mana into one of the Mana Wells in his wrists.

The glow stabilized. The conduits dimmed. Rui exhaled shakily, his head falling back against the platform.

Kovar stepped closer, studying the readings.

"Exceptional," Kovar said softly. "Even under pressure, your pathways adapted. Your Wells are not just reservoirs anymore, Rui—they're becoming dynamic anchors."

Rui sat up slowly, his body trembling slightly, but there was a faint smile on his lips.

"Good," he said quietly. "Again."

Kovar's sharp eyes narrowed faintly, but he nodded. "One more round, then rest. There's still more ahead."

---

Night had fallen over the Sovereign Spire, and Rui stood alone on his balcony. The city stretched below, a sea of faint lights flickering in the dark. Above him, stars shimmered like distant shards of glass.

He closed his eyes and extended one hand into the night air. Faint silver threads—threads of raw, external mana—shimmered faintly in his perception. They weren't his, but they felt… close. Like whispers on the edge of his hearing.

His glowing silver eyes snapped open, and the runes within them shimmered faintly.

Slowly, Rui reached out—not with his hand, but with his intent.

One of the threads quivered in response. It moved, faintly, hesitantly, as if uncertain of his touch.

And then—it shifted.

The faintest wisp of silver light wrapped around his fingertip before slipping away into the night.

For a brief moment, Rui felt it—connection. A fleeting bridge between himself and the ambient mana around him.

It wasn't much. But it was enough.

As Rui lowered his hand, the faint hum of his Mana Wells vibrated softly through his body. His aura rested gently around him, calm and unyielding.

Tomorrow, the final preparations would begin. And after that—the Abyss.

But tonight, Rui stood still, his eyes fixed on the horizon, where shadows stretched endlessly into the unknown.