Ethan Cole - The Unlimited System

Ethan spun, bringing his sword across the last soldier's chest in a clean arc. The man collapsed without a sound, and his Ascendant Core floated free for just a moment before vanishing into Ethan's inventory.

A soft chime echoed in his mind.

[Ascendant Cores collected: 50 / 50.]

The moment it happened, Ethan froze.

His grip on the hilt of the Flame Dragon Sword tightened, not from fear, but anticipation. The blade in his hand suddenly grew warm. Then hot. Then alive.

A deep crimson glow surged through the carvings along the weapon's length. Faint lines of golden light pulsed from the core at its base, moving like veins to the tip of the blade.

It was happening.

The Flame Dragon Sword was evolving.

Cracks of red and gold light shimmered outward, forming patterns in the air around him. Heat pulsed from the weapon—not the kind that burned, but the kind that breathed. It was as if something ancient inside the sword had awakened, stretching for the first time in years.

Ethan stepped back, his eyes locked on the blade.

The transformation wasn't loud.

It was quiet and powerful.

The kind of silence that came before a volcano erupted.

Flames coiled around the blade like living threads, yet they didn't burn him. Instead, they curled along his arms and up to his shoulder like a dragon marking its territory.

Then, the flames vanished into the sword once more.

And the glow faded.

What remained was no longer the same sword he had wielded when he first entered this hall.

Its hilt was darker, more refined. The carvings more intricate. The blade shimmered with a layer of red-gold sheen, like tempered fire frozen in steel. And deep within it, the flame pulsed—calmer, more focused.

A notification rang in his thoughts. He chose to let the panel appeared while he was fleeing.

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[Flame Dragon Sword]

Level: 1

Ascendant Core Absorbed: 50/150

Description:

A sword forged in the breath of the First Flame Dragon. Allows the wielder to unleash fire-based attacks at 160% of the user's Strength attribute. Does not require Ascendant Energy to activate elemental effects.

Scales with the user's base Strength and combat skill. The flames generated are physical and explosive—perfect for close to mid-range combat. Requires the user to absorb Ascendant Cores to level up.

Warning: Less effective against high-tier flame-resistant or fire-based enemies.

=====

Ethan exhaled slowly.

'160% huh? That means I'll be at the peak of the Higher Three-Star rank with this sword,' he thought to himself.

With 160% of his Strength, any of his attacks with the sword would be equivalent to 800 points in Strength.

'Now I can face everyone here.'

His heart was steady. His breathing calm.

He had reached his goal.

The sword was stronger now.

So was he.

There were still a few soldiers standing at the edges of the hall, frozen in fear or hesitation. He didn't go for them. Not anymore. His objective had been met.

He had no more reason to waste time.

Instead, he turned toward the altar. Toward the chains. The symbols. The platform stained with echoes of power waiting to awaken.

It was time for the next step.

'Now… to destroy all of this before the I'm too late.'

Ethan stopped in his tracks. His boots scraped lightly against the stone floor, and his glowing blade settled at his side.

"Take cover!" he shouted, his voice sharp and commanding.

The two captives still chained near the platform looked up in confusion.

"I'm releasing you two!"

Without waiting for them to react, Ethan raised his sword and swept it toward them. A pair of blazing slashes shot from the blade, thin arcs of condensed flame streaking across the air with precision. The first strike slammed into the cuffs of the silver-haired man. A crack sounded, then a blast of sparks. The Drakiel Stone shattered.

Before the man could even register what happened, the second arc hit the cuffs of the woman beside him. Her bindings broke with a small explosion, and she stumbled back, free.

"Go!" Ethan yelled again.

They scrambled away from the platform, together with the other two. Now, Ethan needed to make sure everyone was safe until he dealt with everything here first.

Even without full strength, they understood—this was no longer a ritual. It was a battlefield.

Ethan turned around, just in time to see Vareth closing the distance.

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The Protector of the Empire didn't waste words.

A howl of wind burst from his palm, swirling with force and pressure. Blades of wind formed in midair and came tearing toward Ethan from every direction.

Ethan raised his sword in time.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The Flame Dragon Sword met the first wave. Sparks flew as steel clashed with energy. Ethan's movements were fast, his grip tight. The blade moved like an extension of his arm, at least when it came to blocking.

The second wave hit harder.

Vareth launched himself into the air, then came crashing down with a spear of wind coiled around his foot. Ethan dodged to the left, just narrowly escaping the blast as it cracked the stone floor open beside him.

He spun, brought the sword around, and parried another slash of condensed wind that tried to clip his side.

'His attacks are pretty fast.'

But even faster was Ethan's mind.

He read the angle. Anticipated the pressure points. Every attack Vareth unleashed came with a rhythm, and Ethan fell into it, predicting, countering, and sliding away with inches to spare.

Yet there was one problem.

'Damn it! I can't return anything.'

Ethan tried to slash forward once. The edge of his sword grazed Vareth's armguard, but there was no real weight behind it. It lacked timing. Form. Intent.

The blade, despite its power, wasn't guided by experience. Only instinct.

Ethan's footwork was sharp, and his strength was immense, but his technique?

It was raw.

"It seems like you don't know how to use your sword, brat!" Vareth taunted.

Ethan didn't respond. He knew it, too.

'I really don't know how to fight with a sword,' he thought bitterly as another wind slash forced him back. 'I can block. I can deflect. But every time I try to strike back, it feels wrong.'

Vareth snarled as he conjured another sharp gust in the shape of a crescent and hurled it at Ethan's legs. Ethan flipped backward, avoiding the cut by less than a finger's width.

He landed, barely breathing hard. But his lips pressed into a line.

'I really need the system to give me something… anything. A sword style maybe, that I can unlock.'

His hands adjusted their grip on the Flame Dragon Sword. Even now, the weapon's power surged through him. He could feel it wanting more. It was like holding a storm without knowing how to direct the wind.

And across from him, Vareth was already preparing the next wave.

"This ends here!" the Protector roared.

Ethan stood his ground again. His feet slid slightly apart. His eyes narrowed.

Ethan shifted his stance, the Flame Dragon Sword feeling both familiar and foreign in his grip.

He had power. That wasn't the problem.

But the way he swung it… felt off.

'I'm not a swordsman,' he admitted silently. 'I've never trained with blades like this. My movements are sloppy, too wide. I'm wasting energy every time I swing.'

He parried another burst of wind from Vareth, just barely managing to deflect it. His hands ached from the vibration running through the blade.

'I can block… but I can't hit back properly.'

Vareth kept his distance, circling. The wind around him kept rising, sharp and fast like blades waiting to cut from every angle.

Ethan gritted his teeth, breathing steady.

'Alright. Think. I've unlocked other combat skills.'

His mind went back to his unlocked skills.

'Krav Maga. Close-quarters combat. Tactical firearms. Stealth and Tracking,' Ethan recounted all. 'I know how to fight up close. I know how to kill. I just need to stop thinking like I'm holding a damn sword and treat this like it's any part of my body.'

He changed his grip, holding the sword closer to his body, angled low, like how he was fighting with his fists. His posture tightened. His footwork shortened.

Vareth launched again, sending a pair of slicing wind blades right toward him.

Ethan didn't retreat this time.

He stepped in.

The sickles cut past his shoulder, close enough to burn—but not enough to tear.

In one motion, he dropped low, shifted his weight, and slammed the hilt of the sword into Vareth's ribs. It wasn't elegant. But it hit hard.

Vareth gasped.

"H-h-how?!"

Before the man could react, Ethan followed with a knee to the thigh, disrupting his balance, then twisted the sword upward, driving it into his abdomen.

The steel punched through flesh. Ethan didn't hesitate.

He shoved forward, like pushing a broken door open with both arms.

The blade split flesh, tore through bone, and then… the sword responded.

Its red runes pulsed like a heartbeat. The heat surged.

And then it roared.

Flames exploded from the blade in a vertical arc, splitting Vareth from stomach to chest. His body didn't fall but it cracked and burst into ash and molten armor.

Still, the sword had already absorbed Vareth's core as if it was too hungry for food.

The ground shook. The heat scorched the floor around them.

Ethan stayed still. He was breathing heavily. Eyes steady.

He looked at what remained of the man, nothing but burnt fragments.

'Not bad… 'he thought. 'Not clean. But not bad.'

His grip tightened.

Still need to get better.

High from his seat, Elder Harran leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowed as the last embers of Vareth's body faded into the smoke-filled air.

His throat tightened. He muttered, almost to himself, "Is the White Fang… truly back to full power?"

His fingers curled at his side.

If that was true, if Alden had really regained even half of what he once held, then none of them here would walk away alive. Not even the Holy Knights of the Kannan Empire had survived him. And they were Lower Four-Star Vessels. Vareth had been no more than a pebble in a storm.

Lord Qiren turned his head. "What did you just say?"

Harran didn't answer immediately.

He kept his eyes on Ethan, who now stood tall with the Flame Dragon Sword still burning in hand, the flickering red glow reflecting off the corpses around him. The air itself seemed to pulse with heat and promise. That aura… it wasn't the aura of a man who had just awakened power.

It was the aura of someone who had returned to claim what was his.

Elder Harran's jaw clenched. "If we let him continue, we'll both die."

"What?"

"He's not bluffing, Lord Qiren. If that really is Alden, if the White Fang has returned, he'll rip through all of us. Just like before."

For a second, even the always-smiling Lord Qiren fell silent. His goblet tilted slightly in his hand before he set it down beside his obsidian seat.

Then, he rose to his feet.

"All soldiers!" his voice rang out, sharp and regal. "Everyone in this hall, whether of Velharis or Kannan, kill him. I don't care if you lose limbs doing it. Bring me that man's head!"

The silence in the chamber shattered.

The soldiers stationed around the hall moved at once, boots thundering against the floor as dozens of blades were drawn. Crossbows clicked. Spears lowered. Magic cores lit up like a field of stars igniting all at once.

Ethan glanced up, his grip tightening.

'Here they come.'

More footsteps pounded through the outer halls.

Ethan's eyes darted toward the side entrances as new waves of soldiers stormed into the ritual chamber, one group after another, armored in the colors of both Velharis and Kannan. He didn't even know there were this many stationed here.

'How many of them are there now?' he thought.

Dozens, maybe a hundred. It was hard to count through the rush of movement and the chaos, but there was no doubt now, he was surrounded. The circle of enemies had expanded far beyond what it was a moment ago.

This was no longer a platform execution.

This was a purge.

He glanced behind him, toward the center of the platform. The scroll from Hera still sat inside his inventory. All it needed was a drop of his blood on the anchor symbol to nullify every glyph and carving in this hall. But even that seemed so far away now.

'No time. They'll be on me before I get the chance.'

And yet, oddly enough… he didn't feel fear.

Instead, he gave a breathless smile.

'Free meals.'

That was all he could think as he lifted the Flame Dragon Sword once more.

Earlier, when he struck down Vareth, something had clicked. He felt the sword pulse—not just with power, but with hunger. The moment Vareth's core faded, a message had appeared in the corner of his vision. The Flame Dragon Sword had absorbed the energy.

Not just absorbed it—devoured it.

The process had been clean, automatic. No need to draw the cores out himself. If the blade killed, it claimed.

And right now, there were more than enough to feed it.

Ethan tightened his grip and took a small step forward. The floor trembled under the weight of the rushing soldiers.

'If each kill adds a core… and with these many enemies…'

He glanced sideways at the captives who had taken cover somewhere.

'Then I need time. Just a little more.'

Because if he managed to kill all of the soldiers, then hitting Level 2 wouldn't be far off. And if each level gave around a ten percent increase in output, like he suspected... that would be better.

He exhaled slowly.

'Then once I hit Level 2, I'll be able to fight Four-Star Vessels… or at least stay alive long enough to tear this place down.'

The swarm closed in, the first few charging with swords drawn and elemental Forces crackling in their hands.

Ethan raised the sword, steady and sure.

"Alright," he whispered to the weapon. "Let's eat."