Extra’s Survival: Reincarnated with a Doomed Bloodline

Reality dissolved once more as Fenix found himself standing on the infinite black plane, but this time his entire demeanor had transformed. Gone was the desperate observation of previous attempts, replaced by something far more dangerous - the focused determination of someone who had finally understood not just what needed to be done, but how to accomplish it.

The mysterious being stood across from him with the same eternal patience, its piercing blue eyes holding depths of knowledge that seemed to encompass eons of perfect practice. But Fenix no longer felt intimidated by that overwhelming presence. He had studied this opponent through forty-one deaths, cataloged every micro-movement, analyzed every technique down to its most fundamental components.

More importantly, he had a plan.

His enhanced senses shifted into the state of microscopic awareness that had allowed him to perceive individual muscle contractions and mana currents. But this time, instead of passive observation, he prepared for active participation. His own katana materialized in his grip as the realm's laws granted him weapons that matched his opponent's capabilities.

The being's lips moved with familiar words: "First Art - Ethereal Rend... Collapse."

But Fenix was already moving, his enhanced awareness tracking every preliminary motion as he began mirroring the technique with precision born from desperate repetition. He saw the being's stance shift by millimeters and matched the adjustment perfectly. When its thumb pressed against the katana's guard with calculated pressure, his own weapon received identical treatment.

The problem revealed itself immediately as both fighters began their synchronized draw.

The being's mana started gathering around its form in complex patterns that Fenix could observe but not replicate. Azure energy flowed through pathways that had been refined through eternal practice, condensing along the creature's blade with power that belonged to forces beyond mortal comprehension. But Fenix possessed no mana constitution, no access to the fundamental energy that made the technique's reality-severing capabilities possible.

He had anticipated this limitation and prepared accordingly.

His crimson aura exploded outward with intensity that painted the black plane in shades of blood and determination. Instead of the being's azure mana, Fenix channeled every fragment of his enhanced aura toward his katana's edge. The process felt different - rougher, less refined than the perfect flow he observed in his opponent - but his aura responded to desperate need by condensing into patterns that approximated the mana technique's fundamental structure.

Crimson radiance blazed along his blade as both fighters completed their synchronized draws.

"First Art - Ethereal Rend... Collapse!" Fenix shouted, his voice carrying conviction that transcended mere imitation.

Two techniques erupted across the impossible space - azure perfection meeting crimson desperation in a collision that shook the plane's fundamental foundations. The being's reality-severing slash carved through dimensions with mathematical precision while Fenix's aura-enhanced technique followed an identical trajectory powered by determination that refused to acknowledge impossible odds.

The energies met at the plane's center with an impact that created visible tears in space itself. For one impossible moment, crimson held its ground against azure authority, Fenix's desperate innovation proving capable of matching divine technique through pure force of will made manifest.

Then physics reasserted itself with brutal clarity.

The being's mana-powered assault shattered through his aura enhancement like a hammer through glass, azure energy continuing its inexorable path toward his position with only slightly diminished power. Fenix's Willstep saved him from immediate death, carrying him away from the technique's adjusted trajectory while his mind raced with analysis of what had just occurred.

He had done it. Actually replicated the impossible technique using aura instead of mana, creating something that could stand against divine perfection for even a brief moment. The innovation shouldn't have been possible according to every principle he understood about energy systems and spiritual enhancement, but desperate necessity had triggered adaptations that transcended normal limitations.

A wide grin spread across his features despite the azure energy that continued seeking his destruction. He had proven that mortality could mirror divinity when desperation provided sufficient motivation.

Lost in triumph over his breakthrough, he failed to notice the being's follow-up attack until azure light carved through his torso with familiar precision. The secondary slash eliminated him with the same casual efficiency that had marked forty-one previous deaths, but this time the darkness came accompanied by satisfaction rather than frustration.

He had cracked the code. Everything from here would be refinement and timing.

Forty-third death. Forty-fourth. Forty-fifth.

Each attempt saw incremental improvements in his technique as he learned to integrate aura manipulation with the precise timing that the being's method required. His crimson version of "Ethereal Rend" grew more stable with each iteration, though it remained inferior to the mana-powered original in terms of raw destructive capability.

But power wasn't his objective anymore. Victory was.

By the fiftieth attempt, something fundamental had changed in Fenix's approach to the trial. As he materialized on the black plane, his expression carried the cold confidence of someone who had identified his opponent's weakness and prepared to exploit it with surgical precision.

The being regarded him with its usual unchanging expression, blue eyes holding depths of knowledge that seemed untouched by their previous encounters. But Fenix no longer cared about impressing or matching this creature's capabilities. He had discovered something during his analysis of the technique's timing - a window of vulnerability so brief that only perfect positioning could exploit it.

They began their synchronized motion as they had so many times before, but this time Fenix introduced a crucial variation. As his crimson aura began condensing along his katana's edge, as the familiar power of his adapted technique built toward release, he simply... stopped.

The being continued its perfect execution, azure energy erupting in the reality-severing slash that had eliminated him forty-nine times. But Fenix remained motionless, allowing the technique to carve through space he no longer occupied while his enhanced senses tracked every micro-second of the attack's development.

There. The window he had identified through exhaustive observation.

After the technique's completion, after the azure energy had expended itself in its devastating arc, the being required exactly one-tenth of a second to return from post-attack vulnerability to combat-ready positioning. A gap so brief that most opponents would never detect it, let alone exploit it effectively.

But Fenix had died fifty times learning to recognize that precise moment.

His Willstep activated with timing perfected through repetition, carrying him around the dissipating azure energy to appear directly in front of his opponent. The being's eyes met his in that crucial instant, and Fenix felt his blood freeze as he glimpsed something that transcended mere combat focus.

Those blue depths held the cold stare of a predator that had suddenly realized it was no longer the only hunter in this realm. Recognition. Respect. Perhaps even a flicker of surprise that something mortal had managed to identify and exploit a weakness that eons of opponents had failed to detect.

Fear ran through Fenix's nervous system like ice water, primitive survival instincts screaming warnings about engaging something whose capabilities exceeded his understanding. But he was committed now, positioned perfectly for the killing blow he had spent fifty lives learning to deliver.

His katana descended in one fluid motion, crimson aura exploding along its edge with every fragment of power he possessed. "Ethereal Rend... Collapse!" The technique erupted from his blade with the accumulated weight of desperation, determination, and innovations that had been forged through repeated failure.

The crimson slash carved through the being's form with precision that matched his opponent's previous demonstrations of perfect technique. Azure blood painted the black water beneath their feet as the mysterious figure separated along the same diagonal line that had claimed Fenix so many times.

For a moment that felt like eternity, the being stood bisected but still somehow aware, its blue eyes holding expressions that cycled through surprise, approval, and something that might have been pride. Then its form began dissolving into particles of azure light that scattered like fallen stars across the impossible plane.

But just before the final dissolution, just before victory became absolute, the being's lips curved into a smile that held warmth, recognition, and unmistakable approval.

"Alright!" Fenix shouted, his voice echoing across dimensions as triumph exploded through his consciousness like liquid fire. He jumped in place with enthusiasm that revealed the fourteen-year-old child beneath the warrior's determined exterior, pumping his fist in celebration of victory that had seemed impossible mere hours before.

As the euphoria gradually subsided, his analytical mind began processing what had actually occurred. The technique he had developed through desperate innovation. The timing that had allowed him to exploit a weakness no previous opponent had discovered. Most importantly, the being's final expression - approval rather than resentment, pride rather than anger.

Had this entire trial been designed to teach him the technique? Had the mysterious figure been an instructor rather than an obstacle, using repeated elimination to force him toward innovations that would never have developed under safe conditions?

The being's final smile suggested purposes that transcended simple combat, lessons that extended beyond mere survival into realms of understanding that could reshape his entire approach to warfare and spiritual development.

But before he could pursue these thoughts further, the familiar sensation of reality shifting began building around him. The infinite black plane wavered like heat mirages while new patterns of existence prepared to manifest in response to his victory.

The environment transformed with the fluid grace of dreams becoming waking reality. Grass spread beneath his feet in waves of emerald green while hills rolled toward horizons that seemed to stretch beyond normal geographical limitations. The air carried scents of growing things and peaceful contentment that spoke of places where violence was foreign and harmony ruled all interactions.

As Fenix turned to take in the vista that surrounded him, a voice spoke from behind him with tones that carried welcome mixed with ancient authority.

"Welcome."

He spun to face the sound and discovered a sight that stopped his analytical mind in its tracks. A traditional dojo stood before him, its architecture speaking of martial traditions that had been refined through centuries of dedicated practice. The structure radiated the kind of peaceful strength that belonged to places where true masters shared their knowledge with worthy students.

But it was the figure standing before the dojo's entrance that made his enhanced senses recoil with recognition that bypassed logical analysis and struck directly at genetic memory encoded in his very cells.

The man possessed the kind of presence that commanded attention through inherent authority rather than aggressive display. His kimono spoke of quality that exceeded mere expense, cut and styling that suggested fashion from eras when craftsmanship was considered sacred art. Jet black hair framed features that had been carved with aristocratic precision, while white porcelain skin suggested bloodline purity that had been maintained through generations of careful breeding.

But it was the eyes that sealed Fenix's recognition beyond any possibility of doubt.

Crimson orbs held depths of power that spoke of capabilities refined through lifetimes of dedication to martial perfection. Not the wild, uncontrolled energy that marked newly awakened potential, but the kind of disciplined strength that could reshape reality according to precisely applied will. These eyes belonged to someone who had touched the pinnacle of what mortal achievement could accomplish when properly guided.

More than power, more than capability, those crimson depths carried genetic markers that resonated with Fenix's own enhanced awareness. Family. Bloodline. Connection that transcended normal relationships and entered the realm of inheritance passed down through generations of shared dedication to excellence.

"Ackerman," Fenix whispered, his voice carrying recognition that felt like coming home after a lifetime of wandering.

The figure's smile held approval that seemed to encompass not just his recent victory, but his entire journey from weakness to strength, from ignorance to understanding, from desperation to the kind of power that could challenge impossible techniques and emerge victorious through mortal determination.

Whatever this place represented, whoever this crimson-eyed ancestor might be, Fenix understood that his real education was just beginning.