Ethan Cole - The Unlimited System

Ethan smiled as he muttered, "Finally."

His smile wasn't wide. His voice wasn't loud.

But it was real.

The Flame Dragon Sword in his hand pulsed, the heat no longer wild but controlled, like it finally understood his will. The glow along the blade deepened to a molten red, and faint sparks danced around the hilt like fireflies.

It had happened.

Exactly what he had been hoping for.

The sword had leveled up to Level 2.

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[Flame Dragon Sword]

Level: 2

Ascendant Core Absorbed: 152/300

Description:

A sword forged in the breath of the First Flame Dragon. Allows the wielder to unleash fire-based attacks at 170% 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.

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"170%... So it means my attack now is equivalent to 850 of my Strength,' Ethan thought inwardly. 'It must be at least the normal Lower Four-Star already.'

Elder Harran's fist crashed down again, shaking the floor beneath Ethan's feet. Dust scattered. The flame around the blade trembled for a moment, but it did not fade.

Through the chaos, Ethan remained calm.

A small smile still lingered on his face.

Elder Harran saw it, and it grated on him like sand in an open wound.

"What the hell are you smiling for?" the Elder roared. His next strike came faster than before, enhanced with jagged spikes of stone along his arm. "You think this is a game?!"

Ethan tilted his body, letting the stone-covered fist rush past his shoulder. The pressure was intense, but he kept his balance.

"Nothing much," Ethan said softly, his voice barely rising above the clashing sounds. "Just thinking about how close I am to making this place burn."

Another barrage came. The floor cracked beneath them, chunks of stone thrown into the air by Harran's earth-force assaults. The Elder was relentless now, his rage growing with each missed strike.

Ethan parried where he could. Dodged when he couldn't. Every movement was made with a strange kind of ease, like he was adjusting to this pace. Like he was learning.

Despite the heavy footfalls of incoming soldiers and the piercing shouts of commands being thrown from every side, Ethan's thoughts drifted elsewhere.

'Do these soldiers even know?' he wondered. 'Do they have any idea they're being used as pawns in Harran's betrayal of the Empire?'

His gaze flicked across the hall as more soldiers spilled in from a side corridor. They moved with discipline, but there was no unity in their eyes, only confusion. Uncertainty.

It made Ethan wonder.

'How many are they hiding in this place? This is just a village… then how many more would there be in a real Empire city?'

Ethan gritted his teeth and pushed forward.

He couldn't waste more time.

Every second he spent clashing with Elder Harran was another second lost from his mission. The scroll. The altar. The platform.

He had to destroy it all, before someone stronger than him came to stop him.

Their attacks clashed again. Fire and stone collided with a burst of light and force. Ethan's sword struck true, carving across Harran's hardened forearm. The Elder snarled in pain, falling back a few steps, his feet dragging across the cracked floor.

Ethan didn't let up.

He stepped in, pressed harder. Flame spiraled from his sword with every swing. The Level 2 enhancement was working. His blade now matched Harran's raw power, maybe even surpassed it. The more they exchanged blows, the more Ethan began to see cracks in Harran's rhythm.

The old man was breaking.

"You're struggling, old man," Ethan muttered, his breath steady, eyes sharp. "Call for help if you need to."

Harran gritted his teeth. The words stung more than the cuts on his body.

"You think I'm afraid of you?" he growled, but his voice lacked conviction now.

Ethan didn't answer. He could already see it.

Harran's shoulders were heavier. His steps slower. The blows he landed lacked the strength they once carried.

The Elder was losing.

Realizing this, Harran suddenly turned his head toward the spectator seat where Lord Qiren still sat. His voice thundered through the air.

"Qiren! What are you doing?! Help me!"

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But Lord Qiren did not move.

He sat still, his fingers twitching slightly, his jaw clenched.

Inside, panic churned through him like a rising tide.

'This can't be happening. As far as I'm concerned, the White Fang used wind elemental attacks but this...'

Elder Harran didn't notice this detail as he was too preoccupied with everything that happened.

'Who is he?' Lord Qiren questioned. 'Or someone from the Kannan Empire disguised as the boy?'

His thoughts raced. He was a man considered untouchable in his court, was now weighed down by something he never thought possible, fear.

Real fear.

'If Harran, a Higher Three-Star Vessel, is being pushed this hard, then how long before I'm next? I'm stronger than him, but only by a margin. If I step in… I might become the next target. And if I die here, then what?'

He glanced at the soldiers still pouring into the chamber. They were being slaughtered in waves, feeding Ethan's sword with every death. The boy wasn't tiring. He was evolving.

And Lord Qiren hated that.

'No. This battle's no longer in our favor. Harran's the one who made the mistake here. Let him deal with it.'

Lord Qiren rose from his seat, no longer bothering to hide the fear etched across his face.

He turned toward the cluster of Velharis and Kannan soldiers nearby and barked, "Prepare for retreat! Now!"

Some of them looked confused, others hesitant, but they obeyed. A few ran ahead, pushing open the heavy doors at the rear of the hall. He then turned to the others, pointing toward Ethan who was still locked in battle with Elder Harran.

"Send in everyone we have left! Buy me time!"

The soldiers hesitated. It wasn't cowardice. It was the unmistakable aura of death filling the hall. Many of them had seen too much, and their instincts were screaming at them to run. But Qiren's voice carried the weight of command.

More boots echoed into the hall. More swords drawn. More lives about to be thrown into the fire.

But none of it mattered.

Ethan could already see it.

Lord Qiren was planning to vanish.

He didn't care if Harran died. He just wanted to survive.

Ethan clenched the hilt of the Flame Dragon Sword and resisted the temptation to give chase.

'No. I can't deal with everyone today. This is already taking a toll on me.'

He brought the sword up to his shoulder, inhaled, and focused all his strength into one clean strike. His muscles ached. His breath was uneven. But this was the moment.

This would end it.

As he prepared the final slash, he noticed something. The floor. The walls. The massive black stone platform beneath his feet. All of it had withstood the destruction. The flames. The shockwaves. Even Elder Harran's crushed body hadn't cracked it.

'What is this place made of? It's like it's absorbing the damage. This can't be normal stone. If I can bring material like this back to Earth...'

Before he could even finish entertaining his thoughts, Ethan shook his head, trying to get his head back into the pressing matter at hand.

Across from him, Elder Harran staggered to his feet. His robes were torn and scorched. One eye swollen shut. Blood streamed down his chin.

But his will hadn't broken yet.

He raised both hands and slammed his palms into the floor. The earth beneath him surged up, forming a dome of jagged rock and golden clay. It pulsed with natural energy.

"Terra Bulwark!" he shouted.

The shield rose like a great shell around him.

Ethan didn't slow.

He charged straight toward it.

With a snarl and a downward swing, he released the strongest slash he could muster. The blade burned hot, so hot that the air around it shimmered.

The moment it touched the barrier, the flame exploded outward.

For a brief instant, everything was engulfed in fire.

When the heat faded, Harran was no longer standing.

His body had been split cleanly in half.

A trail of scorched stone marked the blade's path. The Terra Bulwark had shattered like dried clay.

Ethan landed on the platform with a heavy step. The sword lowered to his side.

He looked up, his hair damp with sweat, chest rising and falling.

And then his gaze swept the hall.

The soldiers froze.

His eyes no longer held exhaustion. They were burning, wild, furious.

Ethan didn't speak.

He didn't need to.

The message was clear.

'Come at me, and I'll kill every last one of you.'

None of them dared to move.

They had just seen a man slay an Elder. One of their strongest. There was nothing left in them but trembling limbs and the hope that they wouldn't be next.

Ethan exhaled, steadying his breath. His body ached everywhere. Even if the sword didn't consume Ascendant Energy, it still took a toll on him. Muscles screamed. His legs felt heavy. This kind of power wasn't free.

'I'm not an immortal or a god. I need rest too. Let this work.'

He willed the first scroll Hera had given him to come out from the Inventory.

The one that would nullify the ritual.

He dropped to one knee.

The soldiers watched, too afraid to interfere.

Ethan unfurled the scroll and laid it across the stone. The parchment glowed with ancient symbols—curved and sharp, like fire etched into silk.

He took the tip of the Flame Dragon Sword and made a shallow cut across his palm.

A drop of blood fell onto one of the symbols.

The scroll reacted instantly.

Light erupted from the blood-touched rune.

One by one, the other symbols lit up, dancing across the parchment like living embers. Then they rose—hundreds of symbols lifting into the air like a swarm of fireflies. They scattered and began binding themselves to the ritual platform.

The original symbols on the floor glowed, twitched, then pulsed violently.

As if they were screaming.

The scroll's runes clamped down on them like chains made of light and fire.

From deep below the altar, a muffled shriek echoed out. Not from a human throat. Something darker.

Something old.

But it faded fast.

The ritual was dying.

And Ethan stood, battered and burned, watching it all with steady eyes.

The entire hall had gone still. The symbols on the platform cracked like shattered glass before crumbling into dust.

The soldiers stared in disbelief.

Some of them had fallen to their knees from the pressure earlier. Others had dropped their weapons altogether. None of them moved. Their faces were a mixture of horror, confusion, and disbelief.

"What... was that?"

Nobody had an answer. They even questioned everything that they had been doing up until now.

Voices echoed through the space, low and trembling. None of them dared to speak too loudly, as if afraid that doing so might awaken whatever had just been sealed away.

Ethan didn't answer them.

He stood tall on the platform, his hand still bleeding slightly from the cut he had made. His grip on the Flame Dragon Sword was relaxed now, the weapon still glowing faintly in his hand.

And he was smiling.

Not out of arrogance. Not out of cruelty.

It was a quiet, tired smile.

Because in front of his eyes, a glowing message appeared, just for him to see.

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[Mission Complete - Trial of the Dragon - Part 3]

Objective: Prevent Alden from being taken as the sacrifice for the Full Veil Ritual. Stop the ritual before it begins. Uncover the location where the ritual is planned to take place.

Reward: +50 Dragon Soul Fragments

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Ethan let out a long breath.

'So it worked.'

He had done it.

He had destroyed their ritual.

He had completed the mission.

Now there was only one thing left to do.

Escape.

Ethan turned to face the soldiers.

He stood alone on the platform, blood on his hands, flames still faintly simmering along the blade of his sword. Around him were corpses, ash, and the scent of burnt stone. Yet he was calm.

All eyes were fixed on him.

Some were trembling. Others frozen in place. None of them dared to speak.

Ethan breathed in slowly.

'Let's try something good... for once.'

He didn't know if it would make a difference.

But maybe, just maybe, it might change something.

He closed his eyes.

His body began to shift. The glow of the sword dimmed, and in its place, a subtle light surrounded him. His bones reshaped, his skin tone paled slightly, his hair grew longer, darker. The man who now stood on the platform looked entirely different.

Yet somehow, even more striking.

The kind of face people would remember. The kind they wouldn't forget, no matter how hard they tried.

Gasps erupted among the soldiers.

"What... what is happening?"

"Who is he?"

Ethan's voice rang out, clear and steady.

"I am not one of your people," he began. "And I do not serve your empire."

He paused, letting the silence stretch.

"I came from a world far from yours. A place beyond even your imagination. I was not sent by your kings, your gods, or your councils."

He stepped forward.

"I came here for one reason only, to stop the awakening of demons that would consume your world from within."