SSSSS-Rank: Negative Leveling

Silas's hands squeezed harder around Luthra's throat. Everything was going dark.

'Not him. I'm not letting that thing out.'

The serpent tattoo on his arm felt like it was waiting for him to activate it. He could feel it stirring, whispering promises of an easy way out. He pushed the feeling down hard.

'I already did that to Rebecca. Never again.'

His lungs burned. He could barely see anything now.

'Okay, think. What would a smart person do?'

He couldn't break free. Silas was just too strong. But his legs could still move. His chain lay on the ground a few feet away.

His right foot shot out and hooked the end link.

"Trying for your toy? Too late."

Luthra whipped his leg back. The chain flew up through the air. Silas saw it coming and shifted, ready to block, but Luthra wasn't aiming for his body. The chain wrapped around both of Silas's ankles and pulled tight.

Silas had to choose between holding onto Luthra's throat or keeping his balance.

He let go.

Luthra gasped and scrambled backward while Silas stumbled and kicked the chain away from his feet.

"Clever."

"Had to be."

He stood up and pulled the chain back into his hands. He swung it in a tight, fast snap like cracking a whip.

For just a moment, the speed locked all the links together, turning twelve feet of chain into a solid black bar.

'Holy shit, I can do that?'

The understanding came from somewhere deep in his remade body, from all that combat data burned into his mind. He wasn't just swinging a heavy thing around anymore. He could control what it was through speed and will.

Silas came at him. Luthra met him halfway, but this time he held the chain differently, keeping part of it rigid to block Silas's punch. Metal met flesh with a crack. Silas pulled his hand back, shaking his knuckles.

"What was that?"

"Just a chain."

Now they were dancing, playing a dangerous game of distance. Silas kept trying to get close enough to grab him. Luthra kept him back, the black metal blurring through the air, sometimes flexible, sometimes solid as a spear. His Mind's Eye read every tiny shift in Silas's muscles, showing him where the next attack would come from.

Silas feinted left. When he dodged right, Luthra was already aware, the chain catching him across the ribs and leaving a dark bruise.

"Gah!"

The guards watching gasped. Borris, Misha, and Jako stood at the edge of the fight, their faces showing complete disbelief.

'He's winning?' Borris couldn't process what he was seeing. 'How the hell is he winning? Silas hasn't bled in ten years.'

'This is impossible.' Misha's thoughts raced. 'Without his Path, the Master is just a man. And that thing definitely isn't.'

Luthra pressed his advantage like a predator sensing weakness.

Silas attacked. Luthra moved first.

'He's telegraphing everything like he's writing it in the fucking air.'

Luthra ducked under a wild haymaker and drove the weighted end of his chain into Silas's kneecap with surgical precision. Bone met metal with a sickening **crack**. Silas's scream tore through the courtyard as his leg gave out completely, tendons snapping like guitar strings.

He stumbled backward, dragging his mangled leg, fury blazing in his eyes. 'He's not just strong. He's dismantling me piece by piece.'

"Impressive. You're reading me like a children's book."

"You might as well be screaming your moves through a megaphone."

'Cocky bastard's right. I've been using my Path as a crutch for so long, I forgot how to be unpredictable.' Silas's thoughts turned savage. 'Time to remind him what a cornered beast looks like.'

He abandoned everything—technique, form, sanity. Pure animal rage took over as he launched himself forward in a berserk frenzy that defied all logic.

Luthra's Mind's Eye went haywire. The clean geometric patterns of combat dissolved into a chaotic maelstrom of violence. Every prediction shattered. Every read failed. He was staring into the abyss of pure, unfiltered brutality.

Silas was on him like a rabid wolf, his fists hammering with desperate savagery. Luthra caught a punch aimed at his throat, but Silas twisted like a snake and sank his teeth into Luthra's shoulder, tearing through muscle and sinew like a starving predator.

Luthra's roar of agony echoed off the stone walls. He drove his elbow into Silas's temple with enough force to crack bone, but the madman held on, worrying the wound like a dog with a bone. Blood painted them both crimson.

'He bit me. The psychotic bastard actually bit me like I'm his last meal.'

Rebecca stumbled backward, bile rising in her throat. 'This isn't fighting anymore. This is butchery.'

Borris's knuckles were white on his weapon's hilt. 'What has the Master become? This is savagery.'

Silas finally released his death grip, spitting out chunks of flesh and fabric, his grin now a crimson slash across his face. "See that? No more chess match, no more patterns. Just two apex predators ripping each other apart."

He charged again with inhuman speed. Luthra met him head-on, his chain becoming a whirling barrier of black death. The impacts were catastrophic—metal meeting bone with the sound of a blacksmith's hammer. Each blow sent shockwaves through both fighters' frames, but neither gave ground.

Luthra saw his moment. He let the chain go slack for a heartbeat, then whipped it around Silas's throat like a garrote, yanking him into kissing distance.

"My turn to play dentist."

His forehead became a battering ram, smashing into Silas's already damaged nose. The cartilage didn't just break—it exploded in a shower of blood and bone fragments. Silas's head snapped back, his eyes rolling white as stars burst across his vision.

"You obliterated my nose, you son of a bitch!"

"You started this dance. I'm just leading."

The fight descended into pure, primal warfare. Silas became a whirlwind of claws and teeth, abandoning humanity for something more dangerous. Luthra matched his savagery, using his raw power to weather the storm while his Mind's Eye hunted for killing opportunities.

He pistoned his boot into Silas's ruined knee. Silas screamed but retaliated by catching Luthra's hand and bending his fingers backward until they snapped like dry twigs. The index finger bent at an impossible angle, the bone piercing through skin.

Luthra's vision went white with pain. 'Well, that's thoroughly fucked.'

The chain felt alien in his left hand, his movements clumsy and telegraphed. He was losing his edge fast.

Misha's voice cut through the carnage. 'Five minutes remaining.'

Silas caught the weapon switch, saw the mangled finger, and his predator's grin returned with vengeance. "Time's almost up, and you're falling apart like a house of cards. This is where legends die."

He pressed his assault with renewed fury, each strike calculated to maim. A knee strike cracked Luthra's ribs with the sound of breaking kindling. An uppercut made his brain rattle against his skull like dice in a cup. Luthra was drowning in violence, barely staying conscious.

'I'm about to become a cautionary tale. Need an opening. Just one perfect moment.'

Then he saw it—that flicker of arrogance in Silas's eyes as he prepared for his coup de grâce. The bastard was already tasting victory.

Luthra collapsed to one knee, letting his body sag with manufactured exhaustion. His chain pooled around him like a sleeping serpent, seemingly harmless.

"Surrendering already?" Silas stalked closer, death incarnate. "I expected more. This is almost anticlimactic."

He loomed over his prey, savoring the moment. His fist rose like an executioner's axe.

"This was educational. But every lesson ends with a final exam."

Luthra looked up—not at Silas's face, but at his positioning. "You're absolutely right."

The chain erupted from the ground like a striking cobra, wrapping around Silas in a complex web of binding metal. Legs, torso, arms—everything locked in an inescapable cage of black steel.

Silas thrashed against his bonds, muscles bulging with superhuman effort. "Clever bastard. Always one trick ahead."

Luthra hauled himself upright, every movement agony incarnate. He gripped the chain's end with both mangled hands, pulling it taut enough to cut off circulation.

"Game over, Silas."

"Is it?" Silas's smile never wavered, cold as winter moonlight. "Check your watch."

Jako's voice was a death knell. "Two seconds remaining."

The Sigil's suppression was cracking. Luthra felt Silas's mana returning like a tidal wave of raw power, pressing against his skull with crushing force.

"Hmph."

He grabbed Silas's head and twisted it off.

"I said, game over."