Veil of Aether

The arena erupted into a thunderous uproar, cheering at the incredible display they had just witnessed. One person—one lone participant—had taken on five highly skilled opponents by himself and had done so in such dominating fashion that everyone was forced to recognize his brilliance, his talent, and his perseverance.

And most surprisingly of all—he had done it with Healing Force.

A force typically associated with support roles, where users were expected to alleviate pain, stabilize wounds, and save lives in moments of crisis. Yet here he was, inflicting brutal bodily harm using a force long considered to have little to no offensive potential. It was a spectacle that shattered expectations.

The other participants couldn’t help but marvel, their gazes drawn to the Amunar team. Even many among Kei Y’s own teammates were shocked at the overwhelming performance he had just delivered. Zeus was practically floored.

“Forget the runesmith kid from before,” Zeus said in disbelief. “This guy is on a whole other level.”

Kei M sighed, shaking his head in silent frustration at his older brother. “How are you this stupid…?” he muttered under his breath.

“Huh? Did you say something?” Zeus asked puzzled, not even registering the low comment as he remained completely fixated on Kei Y’s fight.

“Nothing,” Kei M replied, exhaling through his nose.

“Oh, okay,” Zeus responded, eyes glued to the arena.

Across the Amunar participant section, the overwhelming sentiment was shock—except for a select few. Kei Y’s friends didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. If anything, they looked like this performance was what they expected.

In fact, if the arena could hear their thoughts, the crowd would have been even more shocked. Because in their minds, Kei Y was only displaying a portion of his power. They believed that if Kei Y had used any of his other forces, he could have dispatched these opponents far more quickly and effortlessly.

Yet amidst the general shock, there was another figure who remained unfazed. A Soldier Class participant from the Amunar team, quietly watching from his seat. His only curiosity stemmed from seeing Kei Y wielding Healing Force, but beyond that, nothing surprised him. Accessing other forces through runes wasn’t unheard of—it was a mark of intelligence and adaptability, not impossibility. So he simply remained silent, observing with sharp eyes.

Silvie briefly glanced at the Soldier Class participant, reading his expression before shifting her gaze back to the arena. She gently stroked Olly, calming the restless cub who continued to cheer excitedly for his master. Beside her, Mia bounced on her toes, fists raised as she chanted, “Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi!”

Staring at the descending giant golden spear—and at Kei Y’s calm, unbothered stance beneath it—Inpu couldn’t help but speak quietly.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? For Khenu of all people to be this brutal… this violent… I really thought he’d be more merciful. Maybe that crown princess really got under his skin. Has he ever been like this before, Sanu?”

Inpu struggled to reconcile the image of the person standing confidently in the arena with the person he knew. The kid who offered him and others free food, who willingly put himself in danger just to keep feeding those around him. The kid who trained with him, shared resources—who did everything in his power to lift others up, who encouraged them to get stronger, to stand tall enough to be noticed by the strongest masters.

Inpu genuinely couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The image of Kei Y, ruthless and uncaring, clashed violently with everything he thought he knew.

“Everyone has their secrets… their own private matters they carry,” Silvie said quietly, not turning away from the arena. “Whatever made him this angry… it’s not something that concerns us.”

Silvie was honest—she didn’t understand the reason behind Kei Y’s shift either. When she first met him, he was the kind of person who protected an Apex Boss he befriended, who pleaded for the life of another until it became clear there was no other choice, until he accepted that killing it was in everyone’s best interest.

She had heard what Dione said to Kei Y during the first phase of the tournament. The insults had been quite childish, a few words a bit harsh, but something else—something deeper—had triggered him. To the point where, in Kei Y’s eyes, Dione’s life seemed to weigh even less than that of a creature.

That shift in his demeanor was obvious back then.

And now, the Greek crown princess was going to pay the price for her arrogance.

The other Kingdom participants looked on. The Crown Princess of Japan watched the scene unfold, noting the complete lack of remorse in Amunar Kingdom’s participant. She simply thought it was a bit of a shame, but it wasn’t her concern.

Japan’s King let out a quiet sigh. “That kid is quite vicious,” he muttered, glancing at his Crown Princess. “Don’t you think it’s a shame?”

“I sense no remorse in him, and it’s not my place to get involved,” she replied simply.

The other true talents from the various Kingdoms shared the same sentiment. Among the Recruit Class participants, many acknowledged Kei Y’s decent strength—respectable, but far from overwhelming. None of them believed he was beyond their ability to handle.

It was only the Greek participants who seemed truly anxious and troubled by Kei Y—troubled by how thoroughly he had defeated all of their representatives. Those participants weren’t just anyone—they were the most promising members of Greece’s Recruit Class, talents who had already surpassed those who came before them. They were considered the future pillars of their kingdom.

And yet, they had all been defeated by a single person.

How could they not be restless and uneasy? It felt like they had been slapped across the face, their kingdom humiliated in front of the world by just one individual.

From scanning the other Kingdom participants, Inpu could immediately sense their attitude towards Kei Y just from their gazes.

One member of India’s Soldier Class team seemed completely passive towards Kei Y’s strength—granted, the man was an entire cultivation stage above Kei Y, but even if they were on the same level, Inpu felt that dismissiveness would remain. Japan’s Crown Princess didn’t appear particularly impressed either, observing with a neutral gaze. But what shocked Inpu most was the reaction from Jerusalem’s Crown Prince—the leader of their Specialist Team, despite still being a Recruit Class himself.

The Crown Prince simply opened his eyes slightly to glance at Kei Y… then calmly closed them again, as if completely unbothered.

Inpu’s instincts sharpened.

During his training, as his strength grew, he had learned to sense the natural fortune that radiated from others—a method to judge talent. It became a habit of his, scanning the fortunes of everyone around him to gauge their true potential.

When his gaze settled on Jerusalem’s Crown Prince, Inpu’s breath nearly caught in his throat.

The level of fortune swirling around the Crown Prince was staggering—far beyond what should be expected of a Recruit Class, so intense that Inpu instinctively felt he stood no chance against him, even though they were at the same cultivation level.

It wasn’t on the same level as Kei Y, Mia, Kei M, or Silvie—God Sparks who shone like blinding white stars—but for someone born without such supreme fate, the Crown Prince glowed brightly in his own right.

Brighter, in fact, than some of the nearby Specialist Class elites around him.

In his stupor, a furious bang echoed out loudly, forcing everyone’s attention away from Kei Y standing over Dione with the descending giant golden spear. The barrier surrounding the arena, generated by the system, rippled violently as a frenzied shriek erupted from the point of impact.

Unsurprisingly, it was Queen Thalia—striking the barrier furiously, her attacks unrelenting as she desperately tried to break through and get inside to save her daughter. The queen had clearly reached the point of losing her mind, her composure shattered after seeing the pitiful state of her daughter.

The other Greek participants were barely left unscathed after their own defeats, but this was far worse. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Kei Y wouldn’t spare her daughter. Not after everything. Not after she had personally ripped off his arm.

Kei Y merely stood, turning his head toward the source of the reverberating impacts on the barrier. He watched the frenzied Queen Thalia desperately trying to break through to her daughter. With casual ease, he raised his hand in her direction and gave a simple up-and-down wave.

For a brief moment, hope flickered in Thalia’s chest. She thought—naively—that he was offering mercy.

Until she heard the voice behind her.

“As you wish,” came Emory’s response, dagger already half-drawn as he prepared to strike her down. Kei Y’s wave had been no gesture of mercy—it was a signal to Emory to stand down, to wait.

And that shattered Thalia completely.

Her hope crumbled to dust as she realized there would be no mercy. Her strikes against the barrier grew more frenzied, golden aura exploding from her body as golden scale-like forms emerged on her arms, hammering wildly against the impenetrable barrier.

Kei Y took immense pleasure in her panic.

So much so, he calmly removed his mask, making sure to deactivate his Kaleidoscope Eyes, revealing his face. A sweet, gentle smile stretched across his lips—a smile so disarming that, to anyone unaware of the context, he would’ve seemed like the most kind-hearted, benevolent youth.

But to Thalia, that smile was a death sentence.

It crushed her spirit more effectively than any blow could.

Those watching from the stands barely spared her a glance. After all, she had demanded this death match—what was happening now was simply what she asked for.

But Kei Y… Kei Y stunned them all.

Not a single person present—no matter how battle-hardened, no matter how drenched in bloodshed—could recall ever witnessing anything so revolting, so utterly debased. Not on any battlefield. Not in any duel. Not in any death match.

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They were warriors. Killers. Champions who had slaughtered creatures, ripped apart enemies, gutted traitors with their bare hands. They had seen men’s heads torn off, watched bones shatter into fragments, witnessed guts splatter across arenas like a butcher’s market.

Yet this… this broke them.

It wasn’t just violence. It was a living, breathing nightmare of disgust that seeped into their bones and curdled their insides.

Some clutched their mouths, faces contorting in visceral revulsion as if their very souls were being tainted by the scene. Others stumbled backwards, gasping for air, fighting the primal urge to vomit their lungs out onto the floor. A few outright collapsed to their knees, retching violently, eyes watering, throats constricting as they convulsed in horror. Even among the veteran killers—those who had long since thought themselves desensitized—many had their complexions turn pale, sweat pooling across their brows.

It wasn’t the violence. It wasn’t the brutality.

It was the sheer, incomprehensible filth of it all.

Kei Y calmly pressed his palm—still oozing with inky, viscous sludge expelled from his body during his breakthrough—over Dione’s mouth. And then, with the gentlest, most unsettling smile imaginable, he let the floodgates open.

What had started as faint droplets became a monstrous deluge, an eruption of rancid, blackened filth that forced its way into her throat. It was sludge that hadn’t just been expelled—it had been purged, scraped from the deepest, most toxic recesses of the human body, carrying with it every foul impurity Kei Y had accumulated over his life and his cultivation.

It stank worse than death. Worse than rot. Worse than a battlefield days after slaughter. This wasn’t just the stench of spoiled flesh or festering wounds—this was the smell of decayed spirit, of tainted aether, of every toxic residue the body could eject.

And then there was Dione—whose fate could only be described as a waking death.

Forced to choke on the absolute worst sludge imaginable, tasting the full breadth of human filth concentrated into a single, suffocating torrent. The taste wasn’t just rancid—it was existence-defiling. A foulness so extreme that it threatened to sever her very sense of reality, to crush her will to live.

Everyone present could swear, with absolute certainty, on their lives, their children’s lives, and the lives of every ancestor to ever grace their lineage—that they would rather kneel and gnaw on the rotting corpse of a disease-ridden beast, feast on the sewage of a thousand-year-old latrine, swallow buckets of maggot-infested carrion—than suffer even a second of what Dione was enduring.

They could not imagine a worse fate.

And amidst it all, amidst the retching and sobbing, amidst the crumbling composure of warriors and nobles alike… Kei Y stood tall.

Smiling.

Sweetly.

Calmly.

Unbothered.

Dione’s eyes widened to the point they threatened to tear from their sockets, blood spilling down her cheeks like tears of agony. Her pupils turned deathly white, her body convulsing violently as if gripped by an endless seizure. But no—this was far worse. A seizure would’ve been merciful, a hundred times more pleasant than what she was being forced to smell, to taste, to endure. Her limbs thrashed uncontrollably, muscles spasming and recoiling as her entire being rejected the rancid sludge invading her body.

At that point, the Giant Spear had already begun its final descent, its radiant, scorching tip practically grazing the top of Kei Y’s head. The oppressive pressure from its gravitational field weighed heavily on the arena, its heat distorting the air itself. Any other opponent would’ve been crushed beneath it, incinerated and flattened without hope of escape.

But Dione’s mind—her focus—was already shattered.

Her consciousness, her willpower, her mental stability had been broken under the overwhelming disgust and trauma of what she was being forced to ingest. Her body spasmed uncontrollably, muscles twitching, her mind reduced to a chaotic, senseless mess of pure survival instinct. She could no longer hold concentration, could no longer control her force.

And in the next moment, as the Giant Spear was just about to pierce through Kei Y’s skull, it suddenly faltered. The glow around the spear dimmed. The gravitational force rapidly dissipated. Cracks webbed along the construct’s surface as the golden light dulled to a sickly grey.

Then—

With a faint hiss, it dissolved into harmless particles, disintegrating before it could even graze Kei Y.

The spear posed no threat anymore.

It was as if Dione’s shattered spirit and collapsing will caused her final weapon to fizzle out of existence, leaving her with nothing—not even the satisfaction of a last desperate attack.

Auserre watched the scene, her expression strained—shocked, and if only faintly… uneasy. Even as Kei Y’s master, she wasn’t sure if this was something she could condone. The Vendor standing beside her, could only gape in sheer disbelief. His jaw hung open before he swallowed hard and muttered under his breath, “I… I think we should give the kid a cut of the profits we’ve made selling his food.”

The words were half-joke, half-serious, but the undercurrent was pure survival instinct. Whatever this boy was, it wasn’t someone you made an enemy of.

Auserre gave a subtle nod in agreement, lips tightening. “Probably wise.”

Yet even as she agreed, her eyes narrowed, a flicker of curiosity breaking through her initial shock. Hidden within the expelling sludge, buried deep in the murky filth, she sensed it—a faint, unmistakable trace of Kei Y’s blood. Her senses had been tracking every drop that left his body throughout this entire duel, whether from injuries, deflections, or self-inflicted wounds. She had noted every trace… but this? This was deliberate.

“Hmm…” she mused quietly, eyes sharpening as her head tilted ever so slightly. “Let’s see what happens next.”

Whatever Kei Y was doing, it wasn’t just about humiliation—it was strategy. She could feel it.

“Heh, I thought you were a troublesome kid,” China’s King muttered, exasperated but entertained as he casually smacked his Crown Prince on the back of the head.

“Hey!” the Crown Prince yelped, rubbing the spot while glaring at his King, making the older man chuckle.

“Here,” the King said, tossing a ripe peach his way.

The Crown Prince snatched it mid-air, happily taking a bite—but his gaze lingered on Kei Y, sharp curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“I hope I get to fight him,” the Crown Prince mused between bites. “I like him.”

China’s King just sighed, tired but amused. “You want to fight him… after seeing all that? And you can still eat while watching it? You really are just as weird as you are troublesome.”

With excitement gleaming in his eyes, China’s Crown Prince watched as Kei Y clamped his hand around Dione’s face and casually lifted her off the ground. Thalia’s frenzied screams tore through the air, her voice already cracking, her throat on the verge of shredding from the sheer desperation in her pleas.

“You sure you still want her back?” Kei Y asked, his tone genuinely puzzled as he glanced at Queen Thalia. “A parent’s love really is something,” he mused, glancing down at the convulsing Dione whose body was still riddled with expelled impurities.

Her consciousness barely clung on, her body twitching uncontrollably, and her mind too broken to focus—until she felt it.

A blistering, searing heat suddenly pressed against her face, the temperature drilling past skin and muscle, scorching all the way to the bone. The heat felt… familiar.

Her clouded eyes, flickering weakly, managed to rise and meet Kei Y’s gaze.

And she froze in terror.

Kei Y’s eyes—no longer the simple glow of before—were now like two swirling orbs made entirely of numerous, tiny golden dragon-like scales that were constantly rearranging themselves. Scales eerily similar to her own force manifestation, but sharper, denser, and alive with a foreign dominance.

She couldn’t comprehend it.

Neither could Auserre, who watched from the stands, her jaw tightening in alarm. “How…?” she muttered under her breath, her narrowed eyes locking on the impossible sight.

Her mouth was clamped shut, yet the sheer shock etched across Dione’s face briefly distracted her from the putrid hell she was choking on.

“How… are you using my force?” she thought, eyes wide with panic and disbelief.

Kei Y lazily glanced at his system interface, noting her force alignment now under his access:

[Solar Scaled Dominion]

Force Alignment: Solar Gravity-Scale Force (Hybrid Force)

Description:

A hybrid force alignment fusing Solar energy, oppressive gravitational fields, and the golden-scaled essence of mythical beasts. It channels the merciless pressure of the sun’s heat and pull, manifesting as radiant scales and crushing battlefield control. The scales act as both shield and weapon, shaping ranged projectiles, overwhelming defenses, and searing foes with relentless heat.

Kei Y’s grin widened.

“Hmmm… Solar Scaled Dominion,” he mused aloud, making sure Dione could hear every syllable.

Her bloodshot eyes jolted wider—she wanted to scream, “How do you know that?!” but her jaw remained locked under Kei Y’s iron grip.

“Too bad,” Kei Y said softly, “you won’t live long enough for me to enjoy using it.”

And then it happened.

If force-feeding her his vile impurities had already upended the arena… what followed next pushed the entire crowd beyond comprehension.

As Kei Y held up Dione with one arm, sludge still pouring down her throat, people started to notice the searing smoke coming from Dione's face as if she were being burned by Kei Y's hand.

But then the ground beneath her began to change.

Golden scales.

Not forming beneath Kei Y… but under Dione.

A radiant, merciless golden spear began to form—rising from the earth, aimed directly under her.

For a fleeting moment, some in the crowd wondered aloud, “Is… she trying to kill herself?”

Auserre’s eyes narrowed in razor-sharp focus. She caught a glimpse of Kei Y’s exposed eyes, and her breath hitched.

Golden scales.

They flickered inside his irises—glinting, alive, pulsing with stolen power.

“His blood,” she whispered under her breath, realization dawning. “His blood lets him use their force…”

Auserre couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she had just witnessed. She found herself at a complete loss—struggling to understand the full scope of the person she had taken in as her student.

When they first crossed paths, he couldn’t even afford to properly feed himself or his friends. A half-starved kid with nothing but raw grit and desperation in his eyes.

Yet now… now he stood before the world as a God Spark. A natural-born anomaly with monstrous talent in nearly every domain. Runework, crafting, cooking, alchemy, medicine, martial arts—it didn’t matter what it was, Kei Y excelled beyond comprehension. She had long since accepted that she had stumbled upon a once-in-a-lifetime genius, especially when she discovered his ability to dissect and replicate other forces through runic constructions.

But this… this went beyond genius.

This was something else entirely.

Not only had he stolen Dione’s force, but he had weaponized it effortlessly—his own blood acting as the conduit, turning his very life essence into a terrifying tool of dominance.

Her mind raced, unable to reconcile the contradiction. How could someone who once scrambled for leftover food now stand here, towering over the prodigies of empires, breaking them physically, mentally, and spiritually?

“What kind of enigma have I taken under my wing…?” Auserre muttered, fingers tightening slightly in her lap as a chill ran down her spine.

Because now… she wasn’t sure if she was training Kei Y.

Or just trying to survive while standing beside him.

Even the Vendor beside her—once more concerned with profit margins—felt his mouth run dry. He rubbed his hands nervously. “Yeah… yeah… we’re definitely giving the kid a cut of every profit his food brings in…” he muttered, making a silent vow never to cross Kei Y.

Meanwhile, Dione’s body convulsed violently—forced to choke on filth beyond imagination, her own stolen force branding her from the inside out, and now… a spear crafted from her life’s pride rising beneath her to deliver the final blow.

Kei Y’s gaze shifted toward Queen Thalia, his smile widening.

“What did your daughter say to me again…?” he mused aloud, tilting his head mockingly. “That I’m a mistake? That I should’ve never been born? That my life is worthless?” Of course, she didn't hear any of that.

Queen Thalia—once regal, proud, untouchable—was now nothing more than a sobbing wreck. She collapsed against the barrier, fingernails clawing desperately at the impenetrable wall as she wailed in despair.

“I’M SORRY! PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS!”

The other Greek participants surrounded her, equally frantic, but powerless to interfere.

Kei Y couldn’t hear their screams through the barrier… but he didn’t need to.

He simply mouthed:

“I can’t hear you.”

And then smiled wider.

Dione’s battered, spasming form could barely register anything—her mind shredded from the taste of Kei Y’s impurities, her body burning from his touch, her stolen force betraying her.

But somehow, just before the end, her hazy gaze landed on her mother… one final, broken connection.

And Kei Y let go.

The golden spear surged upward, blasting through Dione with horrifying efficiency. The searing heat instantly vaporized flesh, muscle, and bone—leaving only ash that drifted into the winds, scattering like forgotten dust.

Queen Thalia’s wails reached an unholy pitch, her voice shredding apart as she clawed at the barrier until her fingers bled, watching her daughter disintegrate into nothingness.

And Kei Y?

Simply stood there, savoring the moment of his breakthrough into the Washed Body Realm.

“I really do stink…” he muttered, nose wrinkling slightly. “This stuff’s terrible…”

A light chuckle followed, his tone nonchalant.

“Maybe I overdid it a bit… oh well.”

A system notification rang through the tournament, its tone cutting through the suffocating silence that had settled after Dione’s brutal demise.

[System Notice: Death Match Concluded.]

[Victor: Khenu of Amunar Kingdom.]

[Result: Unanimous Victory — 5v1 Death Match Cleared.]

The barrier around the arena rippled, then unraveled into faint wisps of golden light, fully dissipating. The suffocating isolation vanished, returning the arena back to the presence of the audience.

[Official Declaration: The Amunar Kingdom is victorious in the Recruit Class Death Match against the Greek Kingdom.]

The announcement struck like a hammer, forcing every kingdom, every audience member, and every participant to acknowledge it.

Kei Y stood alone in the center of the stage, calm and relaxed, putting his mask back on, as if he hadn’t just committed one of the most terrifying victories ever witnessed.

For the Greeks… it was a humiliation.

For Kei Y, it was merely an exercise before he took a nap.

And even after everything that just occurred, Zeus couldn't help but ask as it only dawned on him, "Wait, is he that runesmith kid from before?"

Kei M couldn't help but smack his forehead in shame.