The Darkness System: Rise of the Broken Sovereign

Chapter 172: Chapter 172: Final Showdown (3): 3v1

Months ago, in the quiet of his dormitory room on Planet Orion, Kael had activated the Dark Summoning technique for the first time and learned its true nature. The technique was like a key. A bridge between the mortal world and the Shadow World, a dimension that existed parallel to reality, populated by entities that had never been human and never would be. The technique allowed a summoner to pull a creature from that world and bind it to service. But the binding required taming. A battleground would form, a pocket space generated by the System’s power using the technique as a medium, and within that space, summoner and creature would fight until one submitted.

Kael had summoned three creatures in total during that first session. The first was a shadow serpent that had coiled around him and nearly crushed the life from his body before he managed to banish it. The second was a four-armed demon beast that had beaten him within an inch of his life in twelve seconds flat. The third was a bat-like creature with razored wings that had cut him so deeply the System had issued a health warning.

He had lost all three battles.

Then, on his fourth attempt, something different crawled out of the shadow. A wolf. Injured. One of its hind legs was mangled, white runes on its body flickering weakly, its demonic energy reduced to a fraction of what it should have been. It stood on three legs in the pocket space, regarding Kael with crimson eyes that carried exhaustion rather than malice.

Kael had won that fight. Not through superiority, but because the wolf was too wounded to resist properly. It had submitted not out of fear but out of pragmatism. The System had confirmed the taming with a single line of text that still amused Kael when he thought about it.

Creature submitted. Reason: Summoner deemed "not that bad for a master.

I like this wolf.

Present.

Michael Weston looked down at the three fighters arrayed before him. The bleeding dragon-kin with frost still crackling from his claws. The dark wolf with its pulsing white runes and Mana Heart Rank 3 aura that hadn’t even reached half its full potential. And Kael Vorn, standing in the center, Shadow Armor flickering.

"I’m surprised you still have so much mana to spare," Michael said, his voice carrying that warm, resonant quality that made the angelic armor glow brighter. "I guess that’s to be expected of the captain of the second-placed academy."

Kael’s mana reserves were insane by any standard. His Transcendent Core held 480% of what a standard Flawless Core provided, and the regeneration rate of 215% meant he recovered mana faster than most cultivators could spend it. He had been spamming techniques for hours without running dry. But the Dark Summon was different. It didn’t just cost mana to activate. It cost mana continuously for every second the wolf remained in the mortal world. And at Mana Heart Rank 3, even sealed, the wolf was a hungry passenger.

"Enough talking," Kael said.

The wolf moved first.

It ceased to be in one location and existed in another, a displacement that was more teleportation than movement. Dark demonic energy trailed behind it like smoke from a burning house. Its massive claw swept toward Michael’s head.

Michael’s wing folded up to block.

CLAAANG.

The impact cracked the wing shield. The wolf’s physical strength, even sealed, was monstrous. Michael’s eyes widened fractionally before his combat instincts took over. His light sword swept toward the wolf’s midsection.

The wolf tanked it.

The blade carved a line across its ribs, dark blood spraying, but the wolf didn’t flinch. It grabbed the light sword with one massive paw, demonic energy corroding the light construct, and headbutted Michael directly in the face.

BOOM.

Michael staggered backward for the first time in the entire tournament. The angelic armor absorbed most of the impact, but the sheer brutality of a three-meter wolf driving its skull into his face at close range was not something armor could fully mitigate.

Karacus didn’t waste the opening. He was already moving, dragon form fully manifested, frost exploding from his mouth in a concentrated cone.

"Frost Blast!"

The sub-zero torrent slammed into Michael’s side while he was off-balance from the wolf’s headbutt. Ice crystallized across his wing joints, locking feathers together, restricting his mobility for three critical seconds.

Kael attacked through the gap. Shadow Step. Void Edge blades coated in darkness and gravity enhancement. Sky Rending Technique, Third Form: Falling Crescent, horizontal variation.

Schlick-schlick.

Two cuts across Michael’s back. The angelic armor resisted the first, cracked under the second. Golden blood sprayed.

But Michael was already countering. His wings blazed with light, burning away the frost. His free hand shot out and caught Kael’s wrist with grip strength that made bones creak.

CRACK.

Kael’s radius cracked. He Shadow Stepped free, reappearing fifteen meters back, cradling his wrist. The bone was already healing, Void Body Refinement knitting the fracture in seconds.

The wolf attacked again, dark demonic energy pooling in its jaws before erupting as a concentrated beam of shadow that struck Michael’s chest armor. The beam didn’t cut. It corroded, eating at the light construct like acid on metal.

Michael’s fist answered. Light condensed around his knuckles, and he punched the wolf in the skull with enough force to crater the ground beneath its feet.

BOOM.

The wolf’s head snapped sideways. Dark blood flew from its muzzle. It staggered two steps, shook its head, and came back with a roar that shattered every window within a hundred meters.

ROOOAAAAR.

Buildings trembled. Rubble vibrated. The sheer demonic presence in that roar made Karacus’s scales tighten reflexively.

The 3v1 became a war of attrition.

PAM. CLANG. BOOM. CRACK. SWOOSH. SCHLICK.

Kael cycled through everything. Lightning Fangs to force repositioning. Gravity wells to limit mobility. Shadow Step for close-range blade work. Sky Rending forms flowing into each other, each slash chipping away at the angelic armor. Runes detonating in overlapping sequences. Darkness techniques disrupting Michael’s light constructs at key moments.

The wolf fought like a force of nature. It tanked hits that would have killed a Mana Heart Rank 3 cultivator. A light sword slash across its chest that left a wound deep enough to see bone. It kept fighting. A wing slam that launched it through two buildings. It crawled out of the rubble and kept fighting. Its demonic energy regenerated the damage slowly, far slower than Michael’s angelic healing, but the wolf didn’t need to heal completely. It just needed to not die.

Karacus integrated himself into the rhythm of the fight with the instinctive coordination of someone who had been fighting alongside Kael for months. Frost Blast to create openings. Dragon tail sweeps to disrupt Michael’s footwork. Claw strikes aimed at the joints of the angelic armor where the plating was thinnest. He used techniques that Kael had seen him develop during their training sessions, frost-enhanced physical strikes that combined dragon-kin strength with elemental precision.

But Michael was overpowering all of them.

His healing was faster than their combined damage output. Every wound Kael opened closed within seconds. Every crack Karacus’s frost created in the armor repaired itself. The wolf’s corrosive attacks slowed the regeneration but couldn’t stop it. And Michael’s counterattacks were devastating. A light blade nearly took the wolf’s head off, stopped only by Kael interposing a gravity wall. A wing slam sent Karacus through a fourth building. A punch to Kael’s chest cracked three ribs despite Shadow Armor.

Buildings fell. Streets crumbled. A five-block radius around them was reduced to flat rubble, the original structures obliterated by the collateral damage of three powerful fighters going all out.

Kael’s ribs healed. His mana dropped.

28%, 27%, ....24%.

The wolf summon was draining him. Every second it remained in the mortal world cost him nearly one percent of his total reserves. At this rate, he had less than two minutes before the summon would force itself back to the Shadow World due to insufficient mana to maintain the bridge.

Kael’s eyes met Karacus’s across the battlefield. A single look. An entire conversation.

"Buy me time," Kael said.

Karacus blocked a light sword strike with his forearm, scales shrieking under the impact. "How much time?"

"Enough."

Karacus says. "You better make it worth it, Vorn."

He turned to the wolf and clicked his tongue. The wolf’s crimson eyes locked onto him. Some form of understanding passed between beast and dragon-kin that didn’t require words.

Karacus attacked. Not with the measured strikes he’d been using. With everything. Partial dragon transformation intensified, scales thickening to armor plate density, horns elongating, the white dragon halo above his head blazing with enough intensity to blind anyone looking directly at it.

"Dragon’s Ire!"

Frost and physical power combined into a single devastating technique. Karacus became a blur of white scales and ice, every strike carrying the full weight of his Mana Heart Rank 3 cultivation enhanced by dragon bloodline and elemental fusion. He didn’t dodge Michael’s counterattacks anymore. He tanked them, dragon scales absorbing the damage, and kept swinging.

The wolf matched his aggression. Dark demonic energy exploded from its body in waves, each pulse corroding the ground where it walked. It stopped trying to be clever. It just attacked. Claw. Bite. Headbutt. Demonic beam. Every strike designed to overwhelm, to force Michael to focus on defense rather than offense.

Together, they pressed Michael harder than he had been pressed the entire tournament.

Kael stepped back twenty.

He closed his eyes.

Gravity mana began gathering around him. The fundamental force that held planets in orbit and crushed stars into black holes responded to his call, pulling ambient gravitational energy from the surrounding rubble, the destroyed buildings, the very earth beneath his feet.

Unlike the Oblivion attack he had used against the vampire of Blood Moon Academy, which had been created in a rush because the vampire was annoyingly durable, this was different. He was trying to create something more complete. Twice as potent. Twice as stable. For that, he needed time.

Both arms stressed outward, fingers spread wide, gravity mana swirling around his body like a visible storm of distorted light.