Surviving These Unfair Scenarios [LITRPG - DIMENSION HOPPING]

A tense silence settled over the remaining group. Kazue, still holding her breath, saw the victorious score, [Noob Reapers: 1 - D/W/N/O: 2], emblazoned across the main screen. The lead was theirs, a testament to Meera and Katya's victories. But the moment of triumph was fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the announcement of the next terrifying matchup.

The holographic carousel of participant images spun rapidly on the screen, then slowed, finally halting on two new profiles:

A collective gasp went through the skybox. It was Magnus Thorne, the monstrous leader of the 'Noob Reapers', standing opposite Drake. The sheer weight of his presence, even on a screen, was undeniable, a stark contrast to the human-like opponents they had faced thus far.

Angela, with her usual composure momentarily strained, exhaled slowly.

"Magnus Thorne…"

She murmured, her voice tight, her analytical gaze fixed on his profile.

"I don't have precise intel on the 'Noob Reapers' beyond the circulating rumors. Teams in the global top ten usually operate with extreme secrecy, protecting their methods fiercely."

Her brow furrowed.

"But if there's one thing I'm certain of, it's that their leader, Magnus, must be far, far more powerful than Tobias Radu or Kazuo Mori. His rank alone, rank-A potential, speaks volumes."

Her words carried a chilling gravity, a stark warning of the monumental challenge ahead.

Kazue felt a knot tighten in her stomach while her fists clenched. She had witnessed Magnus's effortless capture of Katya in the casino; she had seen the sheer, overwhelming power of Tobias and Kazuo. To think that Magnus was even stronger… a cold dread touched her. Yet, her concern for Drake burned brighter. She took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Drake's.

"Good luck, Drake!"

She said, her voice clear and firm, despite the tremor in her hands.

"You can do it! We're counting on you!"

Her words were a desperate plea, a transfer of all her hopes.

Falk, perched on Kazue's head, emitted a soft, encouraging whir. He then tilted his head, bringing his wing to his optical sensor in a gesture of solemn salute, his own unique way of offering support. Moyan, though a hint of seriousness touched his eyes, clapped Drake on the shoulder.

"Go get 'em! Make it a good show!"

He boomed, his enthusiasm perhaps a little too performative, but still a gesture of encouragement. Meera was still sitting and recovering her breath, but she managed to lift a thumb in a weak but resolute gesture of approval, her amber eyes burning fiercely. Katya, her face still flushed from her own battle, merely stared at the blond man, her eyes narrowing and intensifying, a silent challenge in her gaze, mixed with worry.

Drake met each of their gazes with a determined gleam in his own eyes and with his lips set in a grim line. He understood the stakes, the sheer weight of expectation.

"I'll do my best."

He said in a low and firm voice, resonating with an unbreakable resolve.

"You can count on me."

A faint flash of light enveloped him, and his body dissolved, instantly transported to the arena below.

The vast battle space, illuminated by an unseen light source high above, stretched before them, a pristine circular expanse of polished dark stone. From the opulent skybox, the group watched with a mix of apprehension and grim fascination on their faces. The air, charged with anticipation, vibrated with the low hum of the Coliseum's immense energy field.

Drake stood at one end of the arena with a posture radiating a fierce readiness. Opposite him, Magnus Thorne stood, a tall, almost chubby man with dark hair and sharp features. The Coliseum's announcer, a booming disembodied voice that filled the immense space, presented the combatants.

"Welcome, esteemed users, to the fourth match of our best-of-seven wager! On the left side, from the formidable team 'Noob Reapers', we have their unparalleled leader, Magnus Thorne!"

Magnus was walking to the center of the arena, his colossal form casting a long shadow on the polished dark stone. He stood, bare-chested. His massive shoulders were draped in a dark, open coat with golden epaulets, and a yellow sash was tied around his waist. His dark bandana framed his wide, unsettling, gap-toothed grin, and his eyes twinkled with amusement. His presence exuded a strange mixture of casual power and overwhelming authority, like a physical manifestation of raw, unbridled strength.

"And on the right, from the renowned 'No Name', the formidable Drake Shaw!"

The announcer continued. Drake positioned opposite to Magnus, making obvious the height difference. He wore his usual fancy coat and shirt, a contrast to Magnus's imposing, almost barbaric, grandeur. The air between them crackled, charged with the immense, unseen power each combatant wielded, making the Coliseum silent in tension, save for the distant hum of its energy fields.

Magnus's wide smile never wavered, but a subtle edge and a hint of genuine irritation entered his booming voice.

"Well now."

He rumbled, his voice echoing across the arena.

"It seems things aren't going quite as planned, huh? Two losses. Against… against you, dammed nobodies."

The last word was spat out, laced with a venomous disdain, a clear insult to the teams of Meera and Angela.

"It's frankly quite humiliating. Here I am, the leader of the Noob Reapers, tenth in the global rankings, forced to step into the arena myself, just to set things straight."

His gaze hardened, a cold fury flickering in his eyes, emphasizing the depth of his displeasure at his team's unexpected performance. Drake met Magnus's gaze, his own eyes calm and unwavering, devoid of fear. He was not one to be intimidated by bluster or displays of raw power. He knew the true weight of humiliation, and the cold clarity of personal failure.

"Losses happen, you know?"

Drake replied in a low and firm voice, betraying no emotion.

"My companions fought with everything they had. They earned their victories."

He accepted the implied challenge with a quiet defiance in his posture. However, Magnus merely chuckled with a deep, contemptuous sound.

"Oh, they certainly tried. Amusing, even. But 'earned'? With such cheap tactics and luck? Hardly. No matter. This will be a lesson for you as well."

He boomed, his voice echoing through the vast arena, taking on a more menacing tone.

"A lesson in the inherent unfairness of the system. A lesson in just how utterly out of your league you all truly are. This is where the real power lies."

His words were a direct challenge and an assertion of absolute dominance.

Drake, without a word, reached up. He calmly unknotted his tie, pulling it free with a fluid motion, then slipped off his coat, letting it fall to the polished arena floor.

The gesture was deliberate, a silent declaration of his absolute seriousness. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing arms that, while not as bulging as Magnus's, were toned and powerful, ready for combat. His stance shifted, his body becoming a conduit of focused energy, and his eyes burned with quiet determination. He was ready.

The Coliseum pulsed. It was a confrontation between two vastly different philosophies of power, two opposing wills, on a stage set for absolute combat.

The match began, and the arena exploded with raw power. Drake, without a moment's hesitation, surged forward, his body a blur of pure martial arts prowess. His lead foot, imbued with a fraction of his Imperial Ki, scuffed against the polished dark stone, propelling him across the arena floor with astonishing speed. He moved with a fierce elegance, a blend of overwhelming physical force and precise, disciplined movements that left shimmering trails in the air. His right fist, drawing on his internal energy, became a devastating weapon, aimed directly at Magnus's side.

The man, a chaotic storm of power of his own, met Drake's charge not with evasion, but with an immediate, bewildering counter-attack. As the boy's punch closed in, the intricate device strapped to Magnus's right arm, the [Gravity Well Gauntlet], an A-rank item capable of controlling gravity pulls, pulsed with dark energy. A localized pocket of crushing, fluctuating gravity instantly appeared directly around Drake's advancing fist, attempting to pin it down, to halt its momentum.

Drake felt his arm suddenly weigh a ton, the sudden, impossible inertia threatening to throw him off balance. But with a surge of his Imperial Ki, divine energy, and his 'Great Weight Control' trait, he adapted, shifting the weight of his own body at will, becoming lighter than a feather for instantaneous acceleration even as he fought against the invisible crushing force. His muscles adapted, his strike continuing forward, though subtly disrupted.

Simultaneously, as the boy's fist grazed his chest, Magnus manifested his [Phantom Blade Dance] skill. Dozens of ethereal, razor-sharp blades shimmered into existence around him, translucent and deadly, attacking Drake from every conceivable angle in a complex, unpredictable pattern that filled the air with their silent, slicing hum. The blond, responding with blinding speed, pulled his arm back, then brought both forearms up, crossing them. His skin shimmered, hardening to the density of steel, then beyond, as he activated his [Sacred Body Manifestation], providing an impenetrable defense.

The phantom blades slammed into his hardened forearms with resounding clangs, sparks of light erupting from the impact, but he remained unyielding, the blades deflecting harmlessly off his temporary fortress of flesh. However, there was something weird about it all… Drake felt the energy conforming these blades; they felt the same as the cursed energy that Adam had. Was his opponent also a curse or dark energy user?

As the phantom blades dissipated, Drake unleashed a [Harmonious Divine Pulse]. A powerful shockwave of Imperial Ki erupted from his chest, slamming into Magnus like a massive current of wind, hoping to create an opening and to disrupt his chaotic flow. The man, however, merely absorbed the blow, his massive body unfazed, his wide, unsettling grin stretching across his face, and his eyes twinkling with amusement. He stood firm like a living wall against Drake's concentrated power.

What truly bewildered Drake, the more the fight dragged on, was the utterly illogical nature of Magnus's arsenal. As he rebounded from his attack, seeking to press his advantage, the towering leader would suddenly unleash a scorching [Solar Flare Incineration] shot, a fire-attribute skill. Bursts of searing, solar-like energy erupted from his palms, searing the ground where Drake had just stood, leaving molten craters and trails of acrid smoke that momentarily obscured Magnus.

Yet, in the very next instant, as Drake prepared to evade the lingering heat, Magnus would activate [Abyssal Chill Aura], an ice-attribute skill, the air around him dropping to absolute zero. Intricate patterns of frost instantly bloomed across the polished arena floor, and waves of bone-chilling cold radiated outwards, threatening to freeze Drake's limbs. He managed to evade with a quick jump, but it still grazed his shoes, sapping the very warmth from his muscles instantly, making his movements sluggish, making it impossible to completely evade the fire torrent nearby.

"Elemental affinity?"

Though the blond, recovering after blocking and falling to the ground. These were completely opposed elemental forces, searing fire and freezing ice, yet Magnus wielded them with seamless ease. Maybe it was possible, but it seemed weird nonetheless.

Magnus's movements, though direct and utterly devoid of finesse, were devastatingly effective due to their sheer unpredictable nature. As Drake maneuvered through a patch of arena floor now covered in a thin sheet of ice, the 'Noob Reapers' leader manifested [Arcane Rune Scribe], another weird-looking skill. Quickly, his massive fingers traced glowing, complex runes in the air, intricate symbols that pulsed with unseen power.

These runes would then either explode into sudden, fiery traps as Drake stepped near, binding him with unseen force, or they would solidify into transparent, shimmering binding wards that constrained opponents, or even manifest as temporary elemental barriers that glowed with raw power, attempting to trap Drake or block his path. The boy, despite his lightning speed, found himself constantly on the defensive, reacting to a barrage of attacks that not only came from multiple sources but often contradicted each other, a tactical nightmare that shattered his usual strategic framework.

"Now magic!?"

He wasted no more time and activated his [Holy Wings Manifestation] skill. Magnificent, tentacle-like wings of pure divine energy erupted from his back, shimmering with golden light. He used them to take to the air, soaring above the chaotic battlefield, using the wings to deflect incoming blows, their ethereal forms capable of absorbing immense impact and enhancing his evasive maneuvers, allowing him to weave through the storm of attacks with extreme agility.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Magnus would sometimes manifest his [Bio-Luminescent Rejuvenation] skill, as his body briefly glowing with a vibrant, life-affirming light, quickly mending any minor scrapes or bruises he sustained from the sheer force of Drake's redirected attacks. Then, almost immediately, he would follow up with [Vampiric Drain] skill, shadowy tendrils or a subtle aura reaching out from his massive body, attempting to siphon Drake's vitality and energy directly, healing himself further from the stolen life force.

"These are Adam's…!!"

Drake would feel his very life force subtly being pulled, a chilling sensation that caused his muscles to ache, but his Imperial Ki and divine energy resisted the draining effect. He knew that his divine essence was the counter for it, so he used it immediately, freeing himself from the shadowy tendrils. The boy would then attempt to counter-attack with a powerful strike, a concentrated burst of Imperial Ki aimed at Magnus's exposed flank, but the man would activate [Stone Skin Fortification] a skill similar to Drake's very own defensive one. His skin visibly hardening into a rock-hard, granite-like defense that shimmered with an earthen resilience, repelling the blow with a resounding clang, proving utterly impervious to his physical might.

Drake was taken aback but continued pressing his attacks, fluid, powerful strikes infused with Imperial Ki and divine energy, aiming for vital points, attempting to find a weakness in Magnus's bizarre defenses. He summoned his [Lesser Soul Sword Manifestation], a shimmering blade of pure energy, wielding it with expert precision. Its ethereal edge hummed with latent power, cutting through the air with a faint, resonant whine.

He would swing, his attacks meeting Magnus's seemingly impenetrable [Stone Skin Fortification], or deftly deflecting his bizarre elemental attacks, or slicing through the ethereal [Phantom Blades]. Drake was doing everything he could, pushing his abilities to their absolute limit, his mind racing to adapt to the constant barrage of illogical powers. But Magnus was clearly more experienced than him, not just in combat, but in the sheer bewildering application of his abilities. Drake found himself constantly reacting to a whirlwind of opposing skills that should have torn a normal user apart, yet only seemed to make his opponent stronger.

The balance of the fight, for almost the entire opening of the match, leaned heavily in Magnus's favor, his unearned versatility proving to be an almost insurmountable advantage.

At one point, sensing a fleeting opportunity, Drake pushed through a barrage of arcane runes, seeking to bring the fight into close quarters. He needed to overwhelm Magnus with pure, physical speed, to exploit any possible chink in his strange, adaptive set of skills. He flapped his holy wings, soaring high above the arena, then folded them for a powerful dive, a focused aerial assault. Simultaneously, a round wooden door of oriental style, intricately carved with mythical beasts and swirling clouds, shimmered into existence on the arena floor near Drake's intended landing spot, signaling the boy's attempt to summon one of his powerful Murim friends.

But Magnus reacted instantly, his wide, unsettling smile never wavering. He raised his massive hand, and a wave of raw, chaotic energy pulsed outwards from him. This was [Resonance Disruptor Wave], a skill that emitted chaotic frequencies designed to disrupt internal energy flows and skill activations. The wave slammed into Drake, specifically targeting the nascent summoning circle on the ground. The intricately carved wooden door sputtered, its energy flickering violently, then it dissolved into shimmering particles before it could fully open, the summoning abruptly nullified.

Drake felt a jarring mental backlash in the form of a momentary disorientation as his summoning attempt was forcibly cancelled.

Magnus merely laughed, a booming, triumphant sound.

"Hah! I'm quite tired of seeing pesky summons in these combats!"

He boomed, his voice echoing with amusement.

"No more! There will be no more little pets in this arena!"

Drake gritted his teeth. He tried to recompose himself, pushing through the lingering disorientation from the previous attack. He launched a rapid series of attacks with his Imperial Ki-infused fists, forcing Magnus onto the defensive for a brief moment. He then used his Soul Sword, its shimmering blade humming with latent power, and engaged his opponent directly.

The towering leader retaliated, summoning a colossal, obsidian-black greatsword, its blade sharp as a razor, tapering to a wicked point. Its hilt was intricately carved, featuring a prominent, empty socket where something should clearly be embedded. However, despite this glaring absence, the sword functioned perfectly, emanating a chilling hum that caused pervasive energy disruption. This was the [Nullheart Blade - Rank A]... Magnus swung it, a massive, arcing blow aimed at Drake.

The boy met the blow with his own Soul Sword. The impact was jarring, not just physically but energetically. Drake felt his Imperial Ki and divine energy momentarily falter, disrupted by the Nullheart Blade's chilling hum, a cold that seeped into his very essence.

"This… This is Void Ki!!"

He noticed the empty socket in the hilt, the lack of a proper energy source, and yet the blade functioned with an immense power that he knew very well. A cold realization dawned on him… But how?!

From the skybox, Angela Rose watched the spectacle unfolding in the arena, her analytical mind whirring, trying to comprehend the impossible. Her brow was furrowed in a deep frown, and her usually calm demeanor strained.

"It's illogical."

She murmured in a voice tight and almost a whisper, more to herself than to the others.

"Everything Magnus is doing… it defies the system's own principles. Several of his skills should be directly opposed and contradict each other, even tear him apart if used in rapid succession. Yet he wields them seamlessly, without any internal conflict, as if it's perfectly natural."

Her gaze sharpened, fixed on Magnus's form, then on the weird blade in his hand.

"And that sword… it clearly requires something for its core abilities. That socket is empty. How is he using its power without it? And that pervasive energy disruption it's causing… it clearly has severe restrictions, inherent energy requirements, or even racial prerequisites he simply does not seem to meet. Yet he uses them anyway, without problem."

The contradiction was a glaring, impossible anomaly that her logical mind struggled to reconcile, a profound challenge to her understanding of the system's rules.

Drake, panting slightly with his movements beginning to show the strain of the relentless, illogical assault, barely dodged a concentrated burst of solar flares. He slid across the polished arena floor, his holy wings flaring behind him, deflecting a barrage of phantom blades. He then evaded a sudden, bone-chilling burst of abyssal ice, causing intricate patterns of frost to bloom on the ground around him, while simultaneously preparing to fire a burst of solar energy once more.

The sheer absurdity of it and the impossible combination of powers forced a frustrated gasp from Drake. He pushed himself back, creating a small pocket of distance.

"How?!"

He roared, his voice echoing in the vast arena, not just a challenge, but a desperate plea for understanding in the face of the inexplicable.

"How are you doing this?! Your powers balance makes no sense! And that sword… it shouldn't be working, it's using Void Ki, and that is impossible to use without mastering it first, and mastering Void Ki renders you unable to use any other incompatible energy… I know, I've studied it and one of my friends has it."

His words were a direct accusation, like demanding answers from the system itself, from the man who stood before him. Magnus merely laughed, a booming, unrestrained sound that filled the arena, reverberating with a triumphant madness. His wide, gap-toothed smile stretched, a predatory glee in his eyes, his massive chest heaving with mirth.

"Hah! So the noob finally notices!"

He boomed, his voice laced with a frenetic energy that seemed to vibrate with sheer power. He raised his massive arm, pointing a finger at Drake, and declared,

"Because I possess the ultimate advantage! I have the system's own true blessing! I have [Make it Fair!] option on me!"

He savored the dawning comprehension, the surprise in the blond's eyes, and the terrifying realization of the impossible truth. He then explained it, his voice dripping with condescension, reveling in Drake's confusion.

"That's right! This option allows me to use any skill and any item, without needing to fulfill its requirements! All power, no strings attached! I bypass the rules! I bypass the limitations! I simply take the power!"

Drake's eyes widened, and a profound shock washed over him. He recognized the name. The [Make it Fair!] option was the one that Li had, an easy but dangerous path to power, spoken of in hushed, cynical tones among veteran users. Drake also remembered the inherent, crippling disadvantages associated with it.

"But… the drawbacks!"

He gasped, his voice tight, his mind racing, connecting the pieces of information.

"It completely limits rewards, it drastically reduces skill power, and it limits your potential growth! How… Wait…"

The boy suddenly remembered Magnus' user information from the casino.

"How is your potential rank A?!"

The contradiction was glaring and impossible. The system simply did not allow such a shortcut without a devastating cost, a fundamental principle of balance. Yet, Magnus stood before him, an A-rank user, wielding impossible power. The man threw his head back and laughed again, a triumphant sound that echoed through the vast arena.

"Ah, so you've done your homework! Impressive! Most users don't even know that much!"

He understood exactly what Drake was thinking, the logical impossibility of his power.

"And yes, you're right! That's the catch! That's the price! This is the only way to truly be strong from the beginning, to enjoy power without the tedious grind of specialization. And yes, it makes it impossibly difficult to grow stronger naturally and to push your potential beyond the bare minimum, heck, why do you think your sorry lot of teammates were able to beat some of mine? We all had the same option, although they are still struggling to break through it... But that is where true skill comes into play! That is where the wheat is separated from the chaff! That is where true power comes from!"

He swelled with pride; his powerful form radiated an almost arrogant confidence, a self-satisfaction that was chilling in its intensity.

"All those drawbacks? They're just minor inconveniences for someone truly dedicated! You simply have to be skillful enough to scale your potential rank back up, even with that crushing, systemic disadvantage! You simply have to be better than the scenarios you felt in! And I, Magnus Thorne, have done just that! I have climbed that mountain! I have defied the limitations of this so-called unfair system! I have forced it to acknowledge my will!"

His chest puffed out.

"My history in the system, my struggle to climb to where I am now, to reclaim my true power, far outshines that of a mere novice like you! Unlike your pathetic little group, who I bet progressed only through sheer luck and handouts, I climbed this ladder through pure, unadulterated effort! Through endless grinding, brutal scenarios, and pushing my limits until they shattered and reformed! I am a force of will and talent, not luck!"

His words were a direct, personal attack, aimed at breaking Drake's spirit, emphasizing the vast gulf of experience and will between them, a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge.

In the skybox, Angela's face was a mask of grim contemplation. Her eyes were wide with a profound, almost disbelieving shock.

"He's telling the truth…"

She murmured in a voice barely a whisper, more to herself than to the group.

"If he has truly overcome the fundamental flaw of [Make it Fair!], then it's possible."

She shook her head slowly, a rare display of genuine awe, her mind struggling to process the implications.

"Is it really that impressive?"

Asked Kazue immediately, not fully grasping the absurdness of such a declaration.

"That option resets your potential to F upon acquiring. No matter what rank you were before, it's a permanent penalty on progression. To then climb all the way to A-rank, overcoming that inherent disadvantage, by pure effort and skill… It should be impossible. I don't know of anyone who has ever achieved it before. The system itself would have fought him every step of the way, resisting his every advancement. Magnus Thorne has essentially endured an absolute hell to reach where he is... That makes him incredibly dangerous, dammit."

Angela said, covering her mouth with her hand while Kazue seemed more worried than ever.

Meanwhile, in the arena, Drake continued to fight, his body aching, and his muscles screaming in protest. He dodged a wave of phantom blades, then countered a burst of solar energy, redirecting it harmlessly into the Coliseum wall. He was still unable to land a single, real blow on Magnus. He moved with expert precision, using every ounce of martial prowess he had, but every move was a desperate reaction to a force that defied all his understanding. He was pushed to his limits, his breaths came in ragged gasps, his skin streaked with grime and sweat, but his eyes still burned with an unyielding determination. He might be a novice, as Magnus had so eloquently put it, but a novice who refused to break.

Then, at a brief moment of respite, after having barely evaded a crushing blow from his opponent's gravity-controlling gauntlet, Drake managed to take some distance. He stood, panting, his shoulders heaving, his gaze fixed on Magnus. A slow, almost disbelieving laugh rumbled in his chest, a strange sound that seemed utterly out of place in the grim intensity of the battle. Magnus raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, his wide smile faltering slightly.

"You're right."

Drake conceded, his voice raspy, yet infused with a strange, unyielding conviction. He looked directly at his enemy, his gaze steady, and his eyes burning with an inner fire.

"You are absolutely right, Magnus Thorne... I am a novice compared to you. I haven't been in this system for as long. I haven't climbed as many ranks. I haven't seen the kind of hell you've clearly endured. My path has been short, and my understanding limited."

His words were an admission, not of defeat, but of profound understanding, a recognition of the vast journey that lay before him, and a silent vow to conquer it.

"But that doesn't mean I haven't put in my effort. It doesn't mean I haven't suffered to get here. It doesn't mean I haven't pushed my own limits, until they broke, and then pushed again and again, with every fiber of my being! … My strength may not be as broad as yours, but it is forged in a different kind of fire!"

As Drake spoke, a powerful current of pure Imperial Ki and radiant divine energy erupted from his body, swirling around him, mixing into a vibrant, golden aura that seemed to push back against the oppressive presence of Magnus's powers. The energy pulsed, swirling faster, concentrating around his right hand, which he slowly extended towards the arena floor. A System panel materialized directly in front of him, blazing with green text, announcing a truth that would shake the very foundations of the match.

The entire Coliseum vibrated with the sudden surge of power, a collective gasp echoing through the distant stands. From the heavens above, a blinding beam of golden light, infused with the shimmering glow of pure green, descended. It pierced the arena's energy field, roaring with an immense, ancient power, and slammed directly into the polished stone floor before Drake.

As the light dissipated, a gigantic, impossibly beautiful sword remained, its colossal golden blade imbued with a luminous, jade-green edge, adorned with intricate, flowing motifs that seemed to pulse with a life of their own. It was a weapon of legend, a beacon of overwhelming divine power, radiating an aura of ancient, unyielding will. The 'Transcendent Fang of the Exiled Realms' stood embedded in the arena floor, humming with an immense, ancient power, waiting for its wielder. Drake reached out, his hand closing around its massive hilt, and with a single, fluid motion, he pulled it free. The sheer weight of the sword, enough to crush mountains, seemed effortless in his grasp, a testament to his newfound, temporary power.

"I'm not yet skilled enough with this… 'Personal Skill' to apply it to my class, like in the previous scenarios. I honestly wasn't sure it was going to work, but it seems I'm getting the hang of it."

Drake stated, his voice now strong and resonant, filled with a newfound power. He looked directly at Magnus, his eyes burning with an unwavering resolve, acknowledging his own limitations while declaring his newly acquired strength.

"But applying it to a single skill… that's enough for now."

Magnus lost his composure for the first time in the entire match, even if it was a little bit. His wide, unsettling smile vanished, replaced by an expression of profound, utter disbelief. His jaw dropped, and his eyes, for a fleeting moment, were wide with genuine shock. Then, the shock quickly faded. His features contorted, his brow furrowed, but his eyes, blazing with a renewed, almost manic excitement, widened. A predatory grin, even wider than before, stretched across his face.

"Interesting."

He rumbled in a low voice, filled with a terrifying eagerness, a hungry anticipation for the challenge ahead.

"Very, very interesting. Let's rumble then!"

The arena, now charged with the immense, clashing powers of both combatants, braced for the true beginning of the fight.