Surviving These Unfair Scenarios [LITRPG - DIMENSION HOPPING]

The battlefield had fallen into a strange stillness, a tense quiet that followed the explosive interruption caused by Jonathan's unexpected intervention. Ash and smoke lingered in the air, the traces of fire still burning in the shattered earth. Angela remained on her knees, her body wrapped in translucent chains that pulsed faintly with suppressed energy. For a few seconds, no one spoke. But then, Adam turned.

He rushed toward the girl with concern, eyes locked on her, who was now restrained like a prisoner. He stopped at a safe distance, kneeling slightly to her level without touching the chains.

"Are you alright?"

He asked, his voice calm but firm. Angela exhaled slowly and nodded once.

"I'm fine. I can't move, though. Can't use skills either."

Her tone remained steady, but her eyes—now directed toward Jonathan—had changed. For the first time since Adam had met her, they were filled with genuine anger. Not frustration, nor disappointment, but silent fury.

"I didn't expect this, it's my fault…"

She muttered through gritted teeth.

"Sorry. You'll have to handle the rest without me."

Adam didn't blink. He looked at her, took in her condition, then gave a small nod in return.

"I understand. You'll be fine. We all read the effect text. If they attack you directly, the Plot Device's effect will break, so they won't risk it."

Angela held his gaze and nodded once more.

"Exactly. Just don't count on me for anything else until it ends."

The boy stood up again and spoke again.

"I won't. Everything's going well so far. I don't plan to let that change now."

After such words, Angela closed her eyes, letting out a slow breath, as if locking her emotions deep down.

Across the battlefield, Solène remained still, her fists clenched, her breath sharp and uneven. She turned slightly toward Konrad, who had managed to push himself into a sitting position. His face was pale, his shoulders hunched, and every movement seemed to take effort. Konrad looked at her, voice low but firm.

"I can't help in this state. None of my skills would work against him… unless maybe if I use the DeathKnight Paragon..."

Solène's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed.

"No. Don't even think about it."

"If I don't, I'll be useless here."

He replied, not trying to sugarcoat it.

"I said no, if he's strong enough to resist it, or worse, if he turns it against us, we lose everything. Get out of here, now."

She cut in, her tone sharp and final. Konrad hesitated. His mouth opened slightly, as if to object, but one look at her face was enough. He closed it again, then gave a single, reluctant nod.

Solène didn't wait. She took a single step forward, and her body began to crackle with power. Heat surged around her as flames ignited across her arms and legs, rising in a torrent of raw energy. Her wings flared behind her, tail lashing once against the ground. She opened her mouth, and a guttural roar escaped—not just a battle cry, but a release of her frustration.

Her body shifted. Thick draconic scales began to emerge along her shoulders and face, her fingers elongating into claws, her eyes slitted with bestial focus. It wasn't a full transformation, but it was close. She had clearly done this before, and she embraced the pain that came with it.

Adam's 'Cursed Vision' narrowed, and the system responded immediately.

That was all it said, but it was enough. The aura around her had changed completely, no longer just the power of a human enhanced by the system, but something far older, more primal. She wasn't pretending to be a dragon... She was becoming one.

But Adam didn't retreat. If anything, his own aura responded to the shift. The cursed fire that had once consumed the field now coursed through his veins, and his own black mist pulsed outward, dragging the corrupted essence of undeath and curses across the open terrain.

Solène's body moved like a missile, launching with full force, her wings beating once to generate a tremendous burst of momentum. Fire trailed behind her like a comet, and the ground beneath her departure point cracked from the pressure. Her claws extended mid-flight, eyes locked onto Adam. The muscles in her arms tensed, her scales glowing, and her draconic form radiated heat. There was no hesitation, no banter, just the raw intent to kill.

The boy stepped forward calmly, his expression unreadable. As Solène closed the distance, massive limbs erupted from his back, thick and segmented like the legs of a monstrous spider. They bent and moved unnaturally, positioning themselves in defensive arcs while others poised for attack. The ground rippled beneath his feet as his cursed energy intensified.

His body was already surrounded by a thick fog of shifting black and red, corrupted energy that pulsed in waves. Simultaneously, three of his skills activated in full sync. [Corrupted Existence] altered the very nature of his flesh and soul, [Yong Xian Sovereign's Body Manifestation] transformed his body into a taller and muscular figure. At the same time, [Cursed Fire Consumption] began drawing the surrounding fire toward him with invisible currents.

Their collision was immediate and thunderous. Solène's claws clashed against the spectral limbs and cursed body shielding Adam, creating shockwaves that sent debris flying in all directions. Her physical strength forced him back, but the spider-like limbs anchored him in place. She roared and swept her tail forward, trying to sweep his legs, but Adam lifted off the ground with a burst of corrupted energy, flipping mid-air and launching one of the limbs like a spear. Solène twisted sideways, avoiding it with a spin, and exhaled a massive stream of golden flame directly toward him.

The fire hit its mark, engulfing Adam completely for several seconds. But instead of screams or impact, the flames warped midair, turning black and distorting violently. The corrupted aura around the boy surged as he absorbed it, his body visibly healing from minor bruises and holes in his clothes. He landed with both feet on solid ground and flicked a hand forward. Dozens of spectral heads resembling blind, fanged wolves burst from his limbs, all called by the skill [Feral-Type Manifestation], each one leaping toward Solène in unpredictable arcs.

She moved fast. Too fast for any normal human to track. Her wings carried her upward, then folded instantly as she dropped like a stone, her claws glowing with lava. She struck one of the heads directly, shattering it with a fiery punch, then dove toward Adam again. He phased out for a second, his form becoming intangible as she passed through him, then reappeared behind her. One of his spider limbs caught her ankle, slamming her into the ground, but she twisted mid-fall and dragged him down with her, her tail slashing across his chest in a spray of burning scales.

Both rolled away from the crater, recovering in an instant. Solène launched another stream of fire, but this time mixed with molten rock. Adam opened his mouth unnaturally wide, inhaling sharply, and the cursed fire skill activated again. The flames turned black before reaching him, and the magma fragments dissolved midair, weakening in presence before falling harmlessly. He rushed forward, one limb grabbing her forearm while a spectral wolf head formed at point-blank range.

The woman didn't flinch. Her free arm stabbed a clawed hand into his side as the wolf bit down. Both attacks landed. Her claws tore through layers of corrupted flesh and armor, while the spectral wolf exploded on contact with her ribs. Both flinched but held their ground. Solène's wound healed almost instantly, molten blood closing the gash, while Adam's body convulsed slightly before the regeneration kicked in.

Back and forth they moved, their powers clashing in waves. Her heat scorched the battlefield, but it only gave him more fuel to devour. His spectral beasts struck from impossible angles, but she dodged or destroyed them. Her claws and wings struck with surgical precision, and his defensive limbs intercepted or redirected each strike. She fought like a beast driven by survival and pride. He fought like a force of nature, methodical and silent, wearing her down with precise movements. The battlefield, already a ruin, transformed into a cratered wasteland of broken ground and melted stone.

There was no clear advantage. Every hit landed was immediately healed. Every explosion was absorbed or shrugged off. Solène spun mid-air again, dragging both wings together in a crushing motion, slamming them against Adam like twin blades. He blocked one with a limb, took the second directly, and retaliated with a wave of corrupted energy that sent her skidding back. Her heels dug trenches as she stopped herself and launched again, eyes burning with fury.

Meanwhile, away from the center of destruction, Konrad and Jonathan moved quickly toward the edge of the battlefield. The necromancer had regained enough strength to walk without stumbling, and Jonathan stayed close behind, eyes darting nervously between the battle and the path ahead. The ruined streets ahead seemed empty, but just as they were about to round a collapsed arch, movement caught their attention.

The Sacred Guardian of Envy stood before them, unmoving. The golden skeletal form glinted with cursed remnants, its two curved swords held loosely but ready. Konrad stopped, his breath catching.

"That thing, it's not deactivated…"

He muttered. Jonathan froze.

"W-Wasn't it t-tied to that guy's c-commands?"

"It should be, undead entities are rarely autonomous. Which means it's still receiving orders from him. But how?"

The guardian moved forward slowly, not rushing, just enough to cut off their path. Konrad instinctively raised a ward, but the guardian didn't attack further. It only stepped into position, blocking the exit. When they didn't move, it stood still again, swords crossed in front of its chest.

The necromancer narrowed his eyes and slowly lowered the ward.

"It's not trying to hurt us… it's just stopping us from leaving."

Jonathan looked confused.

"Why?"

Konrad didn't answer immediately. His eyes stayed locked on the guardian. His mind was racing. If Adam was focused on Solène, and the guardian was acting on instructions, then it had been left behind to fulfill a secondary objective. He examined the terrain, the angles of retreat, the pattern of movement. None of it suggested a trap meant to kill.

"He doesn't want us escaping."

Konrad finally muttered.

"Not yet. That thing's instructions are clear. Stop anyone from leaving. Not attack. Just... block."

Jonathan frowned.

"But why trap us here?"

Konrad didn't respond. The realization hadn't crystallized yet, but the implications were crawling through his mind. Every possible outcome carried the same structure: Adam wanted them to witness something, maybe the fight against their leader? No, probably he didn't want Konrad to go to the other fights to help his team… Either he was trying to deliver a message… or someone else was coming. The timing was too perfect to be improvised.

He glanced back toward the battle. Solène had slammed Adam through a half-destroyed building, only for him to emerge from the rubble with his body twisting unnaturally, the spider limbs pulling him upward like a puppet. Another volley of fire struck his chest, but again, the flames twisted into black smoke and disappeared into his form. Adam retaliated with another set of ghostly skeletal arms, a lot of which clamped onto Solène's leg before exploding with a pulse of necrotic force. She tore herself free, one wing shredded but regrowing before she even touched the ground.

The clash continued without a clear victor. Every moment they clashed seemed to be another test of will and regeneration rather than brute strength. Solène's magma claws seared into Adam's side again, only for his body to twist and regrow mid-combat. He countered with a phase step, becoming intangible for a blink, reappearing behind her and driving a spectral spear into her back. She let out a growl and spun violently, flames erupting outward in a burst. He absorbed the shock, leapt back, and consumed the surrounding fire to patch his wounds.

Back near the edge, the Sacred Guardian still hadn't moved. Konrad stared at it one last time, then looked down at the dirt beneath his boots.

"Shit … I guess we had to stay here for now."

Jonathan looked at him, pale and nervous.

"D-do you think he's w-waiting for s-someone?"

"I hope not."

Konrad replied slowly, thinking about the other members of 'Dragon Utopia', what if they had the same difficulties? That didn't bode well at all.

Jonathan swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. The battlefield remained ablaze behind them… Not that far away, neither of the combatants showed any signs of slowing down. Solène's wings beat harder with every second, and Adam's corrupted aura only grew thicker and darker, as if feeding off her energy. Their clashes shook the air, their movements too fast for normal eyes to follow, but amidst the violent flurry of attacks and counterattacks, Adam began to notice something that made him narrow his eyes.

At first, it was subtle. Solène's expression was one of fury, her teeth bared, her eyes burning with frustration. But gradually, that tension shifted. The corners of her lips curled upward, her snarls became something closer to grins, and her body language lost its desperation and settled into fluid aggression. With each exchange, the smile on her face widened until it revealed her sharp fangs completely. By the time they landed another mutual blow—Adam driving one of his spider limbs through her side while she slammed a burning claw into his shoulder—she was grinning from ear to ear.

The boy saw it clearly now. That wasn't anger anymore… That was… pleasure? She laughed, her voice throaty and full.

"This! This is what I wanted! A real fight. Not like that boring piece of junk I fought earlier. That walking toaster couldn't even react to half my hits!"

Her grin twisted even further, her breath heavy but steady.

"But you… You let me go all out again and again! You can take it and give it back just as hard. This—this is exactly what it's supposed to be like!"

Her amber eyes shimmered with delight. She looked at him like someone staring at their favorite meal, her tongue brushing one of her canines as she readjusted her stance. Her posture was loose, confident, and excited. For a moment, she even looked like she was trembling—not from exhaustion, but from anticipation.

Adam didn't respond immediately. He stood there with one foot planted forward, his side still healing from the last blow, his upper body half-wrapped in regenerating flesh and ghostly armor. His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?"

He muttered with a frown, but Solène just laughed louder.

They crashed again. This time it was mutual pain. Adam struck with a wide arc of his clawed tentacle limb, slicing through Solène's shoulder and dragging her back mid-air. At the same time, she caught him with both feet, slamming him into a ruined wall. But before the distance could widen, Adam's right arm twisted, transforming at the elbow. Dozens of segmented tendrils burst out, all tipped with curved blades. They writhed for an instant, then shot forward and buried themselves in Solène's left side, piercing through her armor and scales. She gasped in pain, blood spraying as the barbed ends twisted deeper—but her grin didn't fade.

Adam pulled her forward using the tentacles and reached behind his back with his free hand. His fingers closed around the hilt of the dagger he had kept hidden—the one he had confiscated from Konrad minutes earlier. The 'Skillrend Dagger'.

As soon as it left its sheath, an ominous pulse of violet energy spread from the weapon's edge, thin cracks forming in the air around it like spiderwebs. It didn't make a sound, but something in the atmosphere shifted. Faint glyphs lit up on the blade's surface, and Adam's fingers tightened around the handle.

Far from the center of the fight, Konrad's eyes widened with horror.

He froze for less than a second, his mind racing. That blade. That cursed dagger. He had seen it in Adam's hands just now. It wasn't a mystery how he knew, which meant Meera had told them everything about it, or worse, how to use it. And now that stupid boy was holding it mid-fight, at close range, with Solène wounded and grinning like a maniac.

Konrad clenched his fists, the implications crashing down all at once. The 'Skillrend Dagger' was not just a weapon; it was a tool of theft, and if Adam used it properly, he could steal one of Solène's skills on the spot. That possibility alone was catastrophic. He glanced at the distance, cursed under his breath, and knew he wouldn't make it in time. And even if he could scream, she wouldn't listen. Not when she was already like this, when she started to enjoy herself, she didn't hear reason anymore.

The necromancer clenched his jaw, bile rising in his throat. It was unacceptably dangerous, the kind of threat that changed the tide of war instantly. He looked at the distance between them and cursed again.

He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to bleed and did the only thing left. He sprinted forward with a sudden jolt of energy, dragging his staff upward with both hands. Shadows converged around him, forming a vortex of pure necrotic magic. The air grew colder, the ground beneath his feet cracking as black glyphs spiraled outward.

"Rise, my DeathKnight!"

He shouted, voice echoing with authority. The earth responded with a roar. The ground split beneath him, a crater forming instantly as putrid green light shot upward in a blinding column. The energy pulsed once, then exploded in all directions. A colossal skeletal hand reached out from the chasm, grasping the edge with force. Then another. From within the pit, a towering figure emerged.

It was humanoid, barely. A titan of rot and armor, its body thin but tall, its form wrapped in black plate from head to toe. Four elongated arms extended from its back and shoulders, each one gripping a different cursed weapon—a massive cleaver, a jagged saber, a rusted zweihander, and a curved demonic blade. Its helmet was split vertically, revealing no mouth, just two burning eyes made of blue fire. Its very presence wilted the remaining grass nearby and sent a tremor across the ruined battlefield.

The DeathKnight rose fully from the pit, letting out a breathless howl. The edges of its blades hissed as they cut through the stagnant air, and Konrad pointed directly at Adam without hesitation.

"I don't care what you are, but you're not taking anything from her!"

The DeathKnight Paragon moved. Its steps were silent despite its size, its weapons dragging behind until the last second, then snapping forward as it closed the distance.

Adam felt the surge of necrotic energy a fraction of a second before the ground exploded behind him. His grip on Solène loosened instantly as he stepped back, narrowly avoiding the massive horizontal sweep of a cursed blade. The air hissed from the force, and even without direct contact, he could sense the spiritual pressure radiating from the DeathKnight's strike. The woman jumped back a heartbeat later, her dragon-infused body tense and glowing with inner heat. She landed several meters away, her chest rising and falling quickly, then immediately turned toward Konrad with a snarl twisting her face.

"I told you not to interfere!"

The man didn't flinch. He stood where he was, gripping his staff tightly, his expression locked in a mix of frustration and grim determination. He didn't bother answering her, words wouldn't reach her now, not when she was in this state. She was enjoying herself, lost in the thrill of the fight, and would never accept that there were limits. Reason wouldn't work, and he knew that better than anyone.

But Adam was not concerned. On the contrary, he was smiling. His lips curved slightly, his eyes never leaving the DeathKnight's towering form. He whispered to himself, almost amused.

"So Meera was right. That man really is easy to provoke."

His plan had worked. The dagger, the visible gesture, everything had been a calculated trigger. Konrad had responded exactly as expected, abandoning his passive stance and calling forth his most dangerous weapon.

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Without hesitation, Adam raised his right hand and extended his fingers. The system responded immediately as he activated one of his skills, [Undead Control], aiming it directly at the black-armored colossus now standing between him and Solène. The spectral chains of control spread out toward the DeathKnight, surrounding its limbs and core, but a sharp sound cracked through the air as the system rejected the action. A translucent screen appeared in front of Adam, showing a bright crimson warning.

Adam lowered his hand slowly, his expression unchanged. He didn't look disappointed, only thoughtful.

"Well, it was worth a try anyway."

He glanced up at the creature.

"We already knew it wouldn't work."

The DeathKnight Paragon was unmistakably one of the corrupted forms of the Paladin Paragons, the elite holy warriors Arianka had once blessed and who had now been twisted into undead abominations. Meera had confirmed this days ago. No one on Adam's team had the raw strength to defeat one of them in a straight fight. But that was never the plan.

As Solène roared and launched herself toward him again, the enormous undead moved at her side, its four arms and the giant cursed blades in motion, Adam didn't flinch. Instead, he opened his right palm wide, summoning a tome blacker than void. A ripple of dark light surrounded it as it materialized midair before slamming into his hand with force. The system labeled it clearly: [Malzaphir's Forbidden Tome].

Internally, Adam focused and projected his thoughts.

"Hey, are you there? I need you focused for this one."

A voice like jagged silk answered, layered in disdain and amusement.

"I don't understand your aim, vile human. Your control attempt failed. That creature is beyond you. And a mere replica of my tome will not change that."

Adam grinned faintly, eyes locked on the advancing enemies.

"Wanna bet?"

Then he made a sharp hand signal… High above, Falk had been flying in unpredictable arcs, his metallic feathers catching glimmers of light from the ongoing battle. But at Adam's command, the bird stopped abruptly and dove toward the ground. Mid-flight, his mechanical form twisted unnaturally, his surface distorting like rippling water. Then, a bright explosion of color burst from his body—red, violet, and streaks of black coating the air for a moment. The system chimed again.

The bird's shape dissolved completely. In its place landed a humanoid figure, tall and slender with monstrous claws, insect-like limbs and wings, and glowing eyes—one of Katya's Tulpas. The transformation was immediate and jarring. Before the DeathKnight or Solène could react, Adam shouted one word with precise timing.

"Now!"

The Tulpa vanished the instant the sound left his mouth, its body melting into the ground in a burst of shadow. In its place, occupying the same position, was Katya herself.

There was no delay, one frame it was the monster, the next it was her—lean, silent, and prepared. Her expression was cold and calculating, but there was fire in her eyes. She hadn't come as backup. She had come as part of the plan.

Katya knew exactly what she had to do the moment her boots touched the ground. She didn't look happy about it, not in the slightest. Her expression was flat, her eyes narrowed in quiet annoyance. Of course, it was all according to plan; of course, it was orchestrated down to the second. And now she was supposed to follow along, just like one of the pieces. But even if she didn't like playing by Adam's script, she understood how important this was. If it worked, she could win this for them. And if that happened… maybe Kazue would be impressed. Maybe she'd smile, maybe she'd even pat her on the head. The thought alone made her cheeks flush slightly, though her expression didn't change.

With one fluid motion, she threw her living scythe into the air. It spun upward, its form shifting as it ascended. Then, without hesitation, she raised her left arm, revealing a thick black wristband with a built-in transparent deck case. She slid one card out with her fingers, held it high, and drew in a deep breath. With her other hand, she activated the Plot Device she had been saving—the one Emir had handed her specifically for this exact moment. The system responded at once with two bright notifications:

The effect spread through her like a controlled burn. It didn't change her physical strength or skills, but her very presence in the system was elevated. She now stood on the same conceptual level as Solène, and it was enough.

Still holding the card in the air, she shouted its name with precise, bored clarity.

"Forced Fusion!"

The card dissolved instantly, turning to embers that disappeared into the air. At the same time, the airborne scythe stopped spinning and began to liquefy midair. Its edge softened, its body rippled, and soon the entire weapon had turned into a swirling mass of viscous purple-black matter. Simultaneously, the towering DeathKnight Paragon, who had been preparing another charge toward Adam, suddenly convulsed. Its motion halted, its four arms shaking violently, and then its armored body began to ripple the same way. The cursed armor cracked. The energy that bound it split apart. And then it too began to melt.

Both entities, one an artificial mental monstrosity, the other a divine-tier undead summoned by a desperate necromancer, disintegrated into identical energy masses. Their forms destabilized and floated, drawn toward one another. They merged in midair, forming a dark sphere of dense spiritual pressure that hovered ominously above the battlefield. Solène froze mid-step, her mouth half-open, while Konrad shouted in disbelief.

"What?!"

Katya didn't even look at them. Her focus was entirely on the fusion. She raised her hand again and spoke loud enough for all of them to hear, voice sharp and mocking.

"It doesn't matter how strong something is. If it's an invocation and I'm ranked higher than its summoner, I can force a fusion override. It's a legal mechanic. Not my fault you brought it out so early."

She then gave a mocking shrug.

"And thanks, by the way, Solène, was it? Without you here, I wouldn't have had the proper rank to make this work."

The fusion sphere pulsed once, awaiting its new form. It hovered quietly above the cracked stone, rotating slowly as if listening for its command. But Katya didn't give it one. Instead, she looked back over her shoulder toward Adam and extended her arm, pointing directly at him.

"It's yours now, do what you planned. Just don't screw it up."

She said, and Adam smiled, genuinely pleased that everything was going smoothly, for once.

"Of course."

He said calmly. The dark tome in his left hand responded to his intent. Its cover opened by itself, pages flipping rapidly as violet energy spilled outward, covering his body in black script. The runes circled his legs and hands, and the air turned dense with devilish pressure. Within his mind, the voice of Malzaphir rumbled, confused and alert.

"Wait. Vile human. Surely you're not about to—"

Adam didn't let him finish. He raised his voice, projecting it across the broken arena, arms outstretched as the floating sphere drifted toward him.

"I offer this fused construct as a worthy offering to the 'Supreme ArchDevil: Malzaphir, Architect of Lies'. Through this sacrificial medium, I request temporary access to the true form of 'Az'Karul's Versebreaker Spear'."

For a brief second, everything stopped. Then… laughter.

It didn't echo through Adam's mind. It didn't stay confined to the boundaries of his pact. Malzaphir's voice exploded outward, a thunderous wave of glee that reverberated through the cracked ruins. Everyone present—Solène, Konrad, Jonathan, Katya, even the immobilized Angela—heard it clearly.

"Accepted!"

The ArchDevil roared, amused and ravenous.

"One of the divine's cherished failures, gifted to me by your hand. A wonderful addition to my shelf. The offering satisfies me. Take your weapon, little liar."

The forbidden tome pulsed, then snapped shut with a violent slam. The orb of fused energy hovering before Adam spasmed once, then shot directly into the tome. A column of light exploded upward, then imploded into a single point of blackness. From within that compressed space, something emerged.

First came the shaft—a spiraling structure of dark metal laced with glowing red filigree. Then the blade itself unfolded in three stages, each prong shaped like a jagged flame, glowing with purple and crimson light. The weapon pulsed as if alive, radiating infernal energy and built with almost impossible symmetry. Its core housed a bright red gem, surrounded by miniature carvings of writhing figures locked in eternal torment. The edges shimmered not with flame, but with raw conceptual destruction—layers of reality bent subtly around the blade's presence.

Adam reached forward and wrapped one hand around the spear's blackened grip.

The 'Az'Karul's Versebreaker Spear' had descended, and the boy lifted it with ease, the handle responding perfectly to the shape of his palm. There was no weight imbalance, no delay, no pushback. The moment his fingers curled fully around the spear's grip, the system acknowledged the act. His eyes adjusted as the first layer of information appeared across his vision—lines of golden-red text shaped by the System's default structure, filtered through his 'Cursed Vision'. He read as much of it as he could before the overload of symbols and system glyphs faded into blurs.

Just holding it altered the world around him. Space bent near the edges of the spear, and visual distortions spread in rippling waves every time he moved it slightly. The ambient energy thickened, almost clotted, as if the surrounding reality were reacting defensively to the item's mere presence. Adam narrowed his eyes, not because of strain—he felt no pain or overload—but to focus on maintaining balance. The weapon had power unlike anything he had wielded before, and yet, it felt... natural in his hands.

Katya, however, had to take several steps back almost immediately. Her body tensed as the infernal pressure washed over her. She bit her lip and cursed under her breath, forcing herself not to panic, but she didn't try to stand her ground. Her instincts screamed at her to keep her distance, and she obeyed them.

But Solène didn't.

Her mind, already high on combat instinct and exhilaration, pushed through the shock. She didn't analyze the weapon. She didn't hesitate to think about what it might mean. She just roared and lunged forward, her claws glowing red-hot, her body covered in partial dragon-scale plating, her eyes locked on Adam's position with feral intensity. If she felt fear, she didn't show it.

However, this time, Adam didn't extend any tentacles. He didn't summon heads or limbs or spectral beasts. The eldritch limbs folded back into his torso and vanished, but his cursed aura remained, burning low and steady. Both of his hands gripped the spear. His stance shifted—one leg forward, back straight, the point of the spear turned sideways at chest level.

When Solène reached him, gnarled claws drawn to rip straight through his ribs, he took a single step forward and swung.

The spear moved like it was slicing through mist... It met no resistance. There was no sound, no impact, no explosion of light or even backlash. It simply passed through her with a clean diagonal motion from her right shoulder down to her left hip.

Her body froze mid-motion, and a moment passed.

Solène's eyes, so full of rage and energy, turned pale white. Her pupils vanished, and her momentum died on the spot. She collapsed to her knees first, her claws digging into the stone floor without strength. Her mouth was still frozen in a twisted smile. The upper half of her body tilted slowly, then fell with a dull thud.

Dozens of system windows exploded into Adam's field of vision. Hundreds, maybe. Each one with text, symbols, color codes, and classification alerts. He couldn't keep track of them. Effects triggered, damage sources, interactions resolved, immunities bypassed, regeneration blocks forced, resistances ignored. The volume of system feedback was so massive that for nearly ten seconds, his entire view was obscured by overlapping windows. He couldn't see Solène, he couldn't even see the ground beneath his feet. Just notifications.

And it kept going. Adam stood motionless as the spear hummed softly in his hands, vibrating with leftover malice from the cut. He waited until the screens faded before lowering the weapon slightly and stepping forward. Solène still lay motionless, blood pooling beneath her. The wound across her chest was massive, running from shoulder to hip in a straight line, cut clean despite her armor of scales and her regeneration. There was no sign she would get up again.

Konrad couldn't breathe… The necromancer remained frozen near the far edge of the battlefield, one knee bent as if halfway through a motion he'd forgotten how to complete. His mouth was slightly open, and his eyes stared wide, unblinking. His fingers gripped his staff hard enough that his knuckles had turned pale. His body was trembling, not from fear, but from impotence.

He bit his lower lip until blood spilled over his chin. No strategy, no spell, no summoning…. There was nothing he could do now. They'd lost. No—he'd lost before this even began. Everything they'd done, everything they'd prepared for, had been pulled apart thread by thread until only the illusion of control remained. And now that too had been incinerated in a single attack.

Adam crouched next to Solène's body. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small pill, one of the ones Drake had handed him days earlier. It wasn't a perfect healing item. It wouldn't restore organs or seal ruptured veins with ease, and it wouldn't undo the spiritual damage of a divine-tier weapon. But it could delay death. Maybe. If her body cooperated.

He carefully opened her mouth and slipped the pill inside, then closed her jaw gently and tapped under her chin to make sure she swallowed. He stood up without a word and glanced toward Konrad.

"I'm not here to kill your team, we got what we needed. This scenario is already over for you."

Adam said plainly. Konrad didn't respond, so the boy continued.

"Yes, Meera told us everything. She was always on our side. But even so, she asked that we avoid killing her teammates if possible. I agreed."

He tilted his head slightly. There was no threat in his voice, just truth. And for Konrad, it felt like a death sentence. The man stood frozen, the bitter taste of defeat still clinging to his tongue, the weight of Solène's unconscious body marking the undeniable conclusion of their battle. The woman who had once been the heart of their team was now bleeding on the stone, left alive only because Adam chose not to finish her. The necromancer's staff shook in his hands, rage and humiliation boiling inside his chest with every passing second.

Several feet away, Jonathan had collapsed to his knees, covering his head with trembling arms, his face buried against his forearms as his body shook uncontrollably. He hadn't said a word since Adam had taken down Solène. The guy looked completely broken, reduced to nothing but a quivering wreck praying not to be noticed.

Konrad no longer paid him any attention. With shaking fingers, he reached into a hidden compartment stitched into the interior of his cloak and pulled out a small obsidian sphere, blacker than any natural shadow, pulsing with faint blue veins of necrotic energy. He stared at it for only a second before activating it, whispering under his breath the code phrase bound to the object's use. The sphere floated from his palm, glowing coldly as the system responded.

He didn't hesitate. Konrad turned toward Adam and released the orb's energy, the same consumable item that he had used to convert the body of the deceased Paladin Paragon, an S-rank entity. A shockwave of malice spread from the relic like a scream into the air, latching onto the boy's aura with the full force of its curse.

But nothing happened.

The black energy twisted toward Adam, and for a moment, it looked like it might have some effect. But then the flow slowed, reversed, and began being pulled into his body instead. The curse was being absorbed.

A single sigh escaped Adam's lips as a new system window appeared in front of him.

It was inevitable. With Adam temporarily wielding an SS-rank weapon, layered with Malzaphir's protection and his own cursed resistances, not even a S- relic could possibly overpower him. The orb cracked in midair, shattering into dust and fading into nothing.

Adam took a slow step toward Konrad. The necromancer collapsed backward onto the floor, eyes wide in actual fear after his last hope out of desperation had failed.

Adam opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get the chance. A second window slammed into existence directly in front of his face.

Everything fell still.

Adam stopped moving entirely. His head tilted downward, and his eyes dimmed until they stared blankly at the ground beneath him. He remained upright, but the tension that had filled his stance just moments ago had vanished completely. His hands still clutched the spear, but there was no purpose behind the grip anymore. The corrupted energy that usually flickered around his form was gone, as if someone had extinguished a burning pyre, and he now stood there like a lifeless puppet.

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating.

Angela, still shackled by translucent system chains, watched with wide eyes as the realization slowly sank in. She had known Adam enough to feel the shift immediately. The presence that once demanded attention was gone, replaced by something hollow. She gritted her teeth, barely suppressing a tremor. Not far away, Katya had gone completely rigid. Her lips were slightly parted, her arms frozen at her sides. She couldn't look away from Adam, but her mind struggled to process what had just occurred.

Then, from the far side of the ruined battlefield, Konrad broke the silence with a sound that didn't belong there… laughter.

It began with a low, rasping exhale, like a man who had forgotten how to breathe and had just been reminded. Then it rose quickly, growing into a full, breathless, hysterical laugh. His shoulders shook, and he fell to one knee, slamming a clenched fist into the stone as the laughter consumed him. It wasn't joy. It was raw disbelief and desperate triumph all wrapped into one.

"I can't believe it!"

He gasped through the fit.

"I thought it was completely useless. But it worked—this actually worked...!"

He stood again, still laughing, eyes wide with the crazed glint of someone who had found salvation in the unlikeliest place. His chest heaved, his hands trembled, but he had never felt more alive.

"This cursed object... finally, after all the effort to craft it, it was worth every second!"

He stumbled forward, eyes fixed on the motionless figure in front of him, and raised his hand toward Adam.

"Turn around."

The boy obeyed without resistance. His body pivoted slowly, stiffly, without any sign of independent thought. His chin remained lowered, the gleam in his eyes now dull and unfocused. There was no trace of will or defiance, only a blank, puppet-like submission.

Konrad's expression twisted into a grin so wide it strained the corners of his mouth.

"I'll use you to destroy every last one of them. The Hunt3rs can wait. They asked for stolen skills and data—who cares now? I have something far more valuable. I have him."

He raised his arm and summoned a system window. His minion interface expanded in front of him, but this time, it wasn't like before. The console displayed Adam's profile in full, as if the system itself acknowledged Konrad as the rightful master of his soul. He could see it all. Line after line of categorized data—skills, abilities, passive modifiers, origin properties, even skill interactions that should have been locked. Everything was there.

The necromancer's breathing quickened as he read.

"You've got an entire undead architecture layered with divine shielding, corrupted infection traits... Is this even real? What kind of monster are you?"

He kept scrolling through the data, voice rising with each discovery.

"You have [Divine Contradiction]... but it's sealed. No, that makes sense, it's too unstable to use recklessly. But this one... what's this?"

He stopped scrolling.

His eyes narrowed, and a sharp inhale cut through the air. That skill wasn't new to him. He had studied it during his research into lich evolutions. It was a terrifying curse-based marker that corrupted any target it latched onto, weakening their resistance to spiritual and necrotic energy while amplifying all damage received from unholy sources. Most undead couldn't even unlock it unless they had crossed multiple thresholds, but here it was—sitting in Adam's list, sealed without explanation.

Why? Why would he seal that? He didn't waste more time.

"Unseal [Mark of the Damned]."

He said with urgency.

"And kill the girl and the one on her knees. Don't hold back. Use everything—tear them apart."

However, Adam didn't move… Konrad blinked. He stepped forward slightly, eyes scanning for any delay.

"Do it. Kill both of them. Now."

Again, Adam didn't react. Not a flinch, not even a twitch. He stood as he had before, head down, grip loose, empty of response.

Konrad's confusion started to rise. He opened the console again, but the interface was no longer there. His hand swiped through the air, attempting to re-manifest the menu, but there was nothing. Everything had vanished.

"What... what is this?"

His voice cracked with unease as he turned toward Adam once more. Something didn't make sense. But before he could say another word, a sound pierced the air.

It was laughter—high, cold, and unmistakably feminine. It didn't come from Katya, nor from Angela, and it certainly didn't come from Adam. The laugh echoed through the cracked and scorched field, dancing between the shattered stone pillars and the silent remnants of the battle. It came from everywhere and nowhere, as if the very world was mocking him.

The tone was confident, amused, and impossibly calm. It slithered into Konrad's ears and coiled inside his skull, crawling beneath his skin like a living thing.

He took a step back. His breath caught. His hands, which had once trembled with excitement, now trembled with something else entirely… What was happening?