The Omnipotent System

Eren's steely gaze locked onto Lucien, his deep, resonant voice cutting through the tense air of the arena like a knife. "I don't know the full extent of my powers," he declared, his tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of something dark and primal. "But I do know it has to do with death. So, if anything were to happen to you—mistakenly—I can't be held accountable for that."

He tilted his head slightly, his piercing eyes sweeping the crowd. It was a deliberate move, more for their benefit than Lucien's. Gasps rippled through the stands, the sound of collective unease growing like an oncoming storm. Whispers broke out among the spectators as they stared at Eren as though he were some kind of monster, a living embodiment of fear wrapped in human skin.

Kael's voice rang out from the crowd, a jeering interruption. "Bragger!" She shouted, her tone dripping with disdain. "You're just showing off because you've awakened your magic!"

The crowd momentarily shifted their attention to Kael, but the tension was immediately snapped back when Kaelith, seated among the high-ranking mages, leaned forward. Her sharp, commanding voice cut through the chatter. "Shut up, Kael," she said, her words laced with cold authority. Without sparing him another glance, her crimson eyes returned to the arena, narrowing in interest as if assessing Eren's potential.

Lucien let out a scoff, his lips curling into a smirk that didn't reach his cold eyes. "Big words for someone who doesn't even understand their own power," he said, his tone dripping with condescension. He rolled his shoulders, his movements fluid and unnervingly confident. His presence alone was suffocating, a storm of raw power restrained just beneath the surface. "Let's see if that arrogance holds up when you're flat on the ground."

The atmosphere tightened as the match officially commenced.

Lucien moved first, his body a blur of motion as he surged forward. His boots barely seemed to touch the ground, leaving faint sparks of energy in his wake. His movements were eerily precise, like a predator stalking its prey. His hands glowed with vibrant energy, raw power swirling around him in a barely contained vortex. His expression was sharp, focused, and filled with a sense of superiority.

Eren, in stark contrast, remained still at first, his dark eyes calculating and cold. His face betrayed nothing—not fear, not excitement—just a calm, unsettling stillness, as though he were observing Lucien from beyond the realm of mortals. When he finally moved, it was with unnerving precision, his steps deliberate, almost lazy, yet impossible to predict.

Lucien's smirk widened as he hurled a barrage of glowing energy spheres, each one humming with destructive force. Eren tilted his head, his face betraying the faintest flicker of annoyance. With a fluid motion, he sidestepped, his movements so minimal yet effective that the attacks looked almost laughable.

"Is that all?" Eren asked, his voice low and cutting.

Lucien snarled, his previously confident expression cracking. "Cocky bastard," he growled, his tone a mix of frustration and determination.

This time, Lucien summoned a colossal surge of power, the ground beneath him cracking and glowing with the strain of his magic. He launched himself into the air, his arms crackling with energy, and brought down a hammering strike aimed directly at Eren.

Eren's eyes flashed with something primal, an edge of darkness creeping into his gaze. He didn't move until the last possible second. Then, with an almost ethereal grace, he leaned back, the attack grazing him by mere inches. The crowd erupted in shocked gasps as the force of Lucien's strike obliterated the ground where Eren had stood, sending debris flying.

"Impressive," Eren said, his voice devoid of fear or awe, his lips twitching into what might have been the ghost of a smile. "For someone so predictable."

Lucien's expression twisted with rage, veins bulging at his temples as he poured even more magic into his next attack. The arena seemed to darken, the sheer intensity of his power threatening to overwhelm the audience.

But Eren remained composed. His posture straightened, and his eyes darkened further, an almost imperceptible aura of death beginning to coil around him. His lips parted, but this time, no words came out—just an exhale that felt colder than the grave.

Lucien froze mid-attack, just for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. Eren stepped forward, his movements still unhurried, and raised his hand. The air grew heavy, the temperature dropping as if the very concept of life were being siphoned away. The subtle shift in his expression—a glimmer of focus, a tightening of his jaw—was enough to send shivers through the crowd.

Kael, still in the audience, crossed her arms and scowled. "I don't see what's so special about him."

Kaelith didn't even look at him this time. Her attention was fixed entirely on Eren. "Idiot," she muttered under her breath.

Back in the arena, Lucien roared, breaking free of his momentary hesitation, and surged forward once more, his fists glowing with unimaginable power. But this time, Eren didn't dodge. He met Lucien head-on, his hand snapping forward to intercept the attack.

The collision sent a shockwave through the arena, the force of their clash causing the very air to ripple. Lucien's expression twisted into shock as he realized something was wrong—his magic wasn't working. Eren's calm, dark eyes stared into his, unyielding. "What did I say about death?" Eren whispered, his voice carrying an edge that made Lucien's blood run cold.

Lucien's body began to tremble, not from exertion, but from something deeper—something primal. The crowd watched in stunned silence, the weight of Eren's presence pressing down on them all. This wasn't a fight anymore. It was something else entirely.

Eren's grip on Lucien's fist was unyielding, his dark eyes boring into Lucien's with an intensity that felt otherworldly. The arena fell silent, the earlier gasps and murmurs replaced by a deafening stillness as everyone strained to comprehend what they were witnessing.

Lucien's face contorted with disbelief. His glowing fists, once brimming with destructive energy, now fizzled weakly in Eren's grasp. His breath came in sharp, panicked bursts as he felt the strength he had always relied on slipping away. "What… what are you?" he snarled, his voice trembling despite his best efforts to sound defiant.

Eren tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint, unsettling smile. "You said I was arrogant," he murmured, his tone as calm as a still lake. "I just understand something you don't." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper that only Lucien could hear. "Power isn't about destruction. It's about inevitability."

Lucien roared in fury, wrenching his arm free with a burst of energy and staggering backward. His body trembled, his eyes wild as he prepared another assault. The crowd erupted again, their confusion and awe feeding into a chaotic cacophony.

Eren remained rooted to the spot, his expression unchanging. His aura had shifted, becoming something oppressive and ancient, as if the very concept of mortality was personified before them. He raised his hand again, the air around him growing darker, colder. Faint whispers—almost like echoes of the departed—seemed to fill the arena, chilling the spines of everyone present.

Kael, visibly shaken now, tried to mask her unease with another jeer. "He's just putting on a show! Nothing impressive!"

Kaelith, however, didn't hide her reaction. Her crimson eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. She leaned back slightly, her lips parting as if she were about to speak, but she stopped herself. Instead, she studied Eren with a newfound intensity, her mind racing. This isn't normal magic… this is something far older.

Lucien didn't care about the whispers or the oppressive atmosphere. His pride burned too hot for him to retreat. With a bellowing cry, he launched himself forward, his body aglow with magic pushed far beyond its limits. This time, his movements were erratic, fueled by desperation rather than precision. He aimed a devastating punch directly at Eren's face, the force of it enough to shatter steel.

But Eren didn't flinch.

In a move so fast it was almost imperceptible, he caught Lucien's fist mid-strike. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the arena, but Eren's feet remained planted, unmoved by the sheer force. His fingers tightened around Lucien's hand, and for the first time, Lucien let out a sharp cry—not of pain, but of something deeper. Fear.
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"You feel it now, don't you?" Eren said softly. His voice was steady, almost gentle, but it carried a weight that crushed any sense of defiance. "It's not me you're fighting. It's what I represent. And you can't fight death, Lucien. You can only delay it."

Lucien's knees buckled as an invisible weight pressed down on him. His once-bright energy dimmed, his body trembling uncontrollably. The crowd's murmurs grew louder, panic spreading like wildfire as they began to realize the truth. This wasn't just magic. This was something far more terrifying.

Lucien tried to muster one final attack, his free hand glowing faintly as he summoned the last dregs of his power. But before he could strike, Eren's expression shifted. His eyes darkened, and for a split second, the aura around him flared—a burst of cold, unyielding inevitability.

Lucien froze.

His glowing hand extinguished, his body collapsing to the ground in a heap. He was still alive, but barely. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, his face pale and drenched in sweat. He didn't dare look up at Eren.

The crowd erupted, half in stunned awe, half in sheer terror. Some called for disqualification, others whispered about gods and monsters. Kaelith leaned forward again, her fingers gripping the edge of her seat. "This... this isn't normal magic. This is something far beyond us."

Eren finally moved, turning to face the crowd. His expression was unreadable, but his presence alone silenced the arena once more. He tilted his head slightly, as if addressing them all without words.

Then, without another glance at Lucien, he turned and began to walk away. His steps were slow, deliberate, and hauntingly calm. The whispers grew louder in his wake, but no one dared to approach him—not even the judges.

Kaelith's gaze followed him, her expression thoughtful. "He's not just powerful," she murmured to herself. "He's... inevitable."

In the stands, Kael swallowed hard, her earlier bravado completely gone. She sat down, her hands shaking slightly as she stared at Eren's retreating figure.

Lucien remained on the ground, too weak to move, his pride and confidence shattered. And as Eren disappeared into the shadows, the crowd couldn't shake the feeling that they had just witnessed the rise of something far beyond their understanding.