Yeah I am an evil author kekekekekeh—!
*****
He had arrived.
Eugene Darcyroix had stepped onto the field.
The moment his foot touched the ground, the atmosphere shifted.
A suffocating force rippled outward, an invisible weight pressing down on everything within its reach.
His aura wasn’t just overwhelming—it was absolute.
The air thickened as a tidal wave of pure dominance swept across the battlefield, crashing over everything like an unstoppable force of nature.
Even Alicia, who sat in the audience seat, felt the pressure bear down on her.
Her breath hitched, her body tensed—despite her own strength, despite her experience, even she couldn’t ignore it.
And then there was Lyrium.
His body trembled.
His fingers twitched slightly, his knees threatened to buckle.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright, but it was a losing battle.
Eugene’s mana didn’t just weigh on him—it drowned him, coiling around him like an unshakable grip, crushing, suffocating.
It was as if he was standing before a force far beyond his comprehension.
The battlefield had already become his opponent’s domain.
And Lyrium had barely even moved.
"So, you are Lyrium Blackwood, am I correct?"
Eugene’s voice was deep, cold, and unwavering—like a blade honed to perfection.
There was no curiosity in his tone, no amusement.
Just a simple statement, laced with the weight of absolute authority.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto Lyrium, unblinking, as if dissecting him piece by piece, stripping him bare with nothing but his gaze.
Gulp—!
Lyrium swallowed.
His body still trembled under the immense pressure, but he forced himself to stand his ground.
Even so, it felt as if he were standing in the eye of a storm—one wrong move, and he’d be swallowed whole.
But nonetheless, Lyrium forced himself to steady his breath, pushing down the tremors that threatened to betray him.
His heart pounded against his ribs, but he willed his body to comply.
With a measured inhale, he straightened his posture, his gaze meeting Eugene’s unwaveringly.
’Stay calm. Don’t show weakness.’
"...Yes, I am,"
He responded, his voice firm despite the lingering weight of Eugene’s overwhelming presence.
For a brief moment, silence stretched between them.
Then, Eugene exhaled a slow puff of smoke, his deep blue eyes never leaving Lyrium’s.
A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but there was no warmth in it—only something unreadable.
Something dangerous.
"Then shall we get started, Lyrium Blackwood?!!"
Eugene’s voice carried an eerie excitement, his deep tone laced with something unsettling—something predatory.
His lips stretched into a piercing, crazed smile, sharp and dangerous, like a beast finally given permission to hunt.
With a flick of his fingers, he tossed his cigarette aside, the ember fading before it even hit the ground.
And then—
BOOM—!
The air itself seemed to rupture as an invisible force exploded from him, sending ripples through the field.
The ground beneath them trembled ever so slightly, as if the earth itself recognized the presence of an apex predator.
Lyrium could feel it—the shift.
This was no longer an arena.
It was now a battlefield.
"Shit—!"
Lyrium barely had time to react as the shockwave sent shards of broken rock and chunks of soil hurtling toward him.
Instinct kicked in—his arms crossed in front of him, forming a makeshift guard as he braced himself.
Thud—! Thud—! Thud—!
The impact rattled his arms, small fragments cutting into his skin, dust clouding his vision.
His feet slid back slightly from the sheer force, but he held his ground.
As the dust settled, he lowered his arms, eyes locking onto Eugene once more.
The man hadn’t even moved from his spot.
This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.
And yet, with just a flick of his power—without so much as a spell or a stance—he had already forced Lyrium onto the defensive.
As Lyrium’s vision cleared, his gaze locked onto Eugene, who stood there, completely unfazed.
He knew it.
He couldn’t do shit to this man without his weapon. Without his skills, he was nothing more than a lamb charging at a lion.
Without wasting another second, he reached into his four-dimensional wristband—a flash of light rippled in the air as he pulled out his greatsword.
The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a familiar weight settled in his grasp, grounding him.
"No hesitation."
With a burst of mana, he dashed forward, his greatsword slicing through the air as he lunged straight at Eugene.
Lyrium gritted his teeth as he swung his greatsword in a swift, lethal arc, aiming directly for the side of Eugene’s neck.
He knew—he knew—that it wouldn’t land.
That it was futile.
And yet, he still struck.
CLANG—!
Before the blade could even reach him, Eugene raised a single finger, infused with mana.
The moment steel met flesh, a deafening shockwave burst from the point of contact.
Then—
Flick—!
With nothing but a casual flick of his finger, Eugene sent the greatsword flying.
Lyrium’s entire body was launched backward as an overwhelming force crashed into him like a hurricane.
The sword was torn from his grasp, spinning wildly through the air as he himself tumbled across the battlefield like a ragdoll.
BOOM—!
His body crashed into the ground, skidding against the dirt, dust exploding in every direction.
His vision blurred, his breath caught in his throat from the sheer impact.
And Eugene?
He hadn’t even moved from his spot.
He simply exhaled, watching with an expression of mild amusement.
"Was that it?"
He asked, his voice calm—almost disappointed.
"Eugene let out a slow exhale, shaking his head slightly.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto Lyrium, analyzing him like a mere specimen.
"Yeah, I get it—your speed is impressive for someone your age,"
He remarked, his tone carrying a hint of mockery.
"But your footwork? Raw. Unrefined. Your sword swings? Sloppy. Forced."
He scoffed, glancing at the massive greatsword that now lay embedded in the dirt.
"And what’s with that oversized weapon? How the hell do you even handle it?"
His gaze flickered back to Lyrium, his smirk widening.
"Or should I say—you don’t?"
’Aghh, this shit… I finally understand why Silas got one-shotted by this guy.’
Lyrium didn’t waste time dwelling on the thought.
He dashed toward the spot where his greatsword had been thrown, his boots digging into the dirt as he moved.
His eyes flickered to Eugene, cautiously checking for any movement—but there was none.
Eugene simply stood there, watching him with an amused expression.
"He’s not even bothering to chase me?"
As Lyrium reached for his weapon, Eugene exhaled, flicking away the last trace of smoke from his fingers.
"Go on, take it,"
He said, his voice laced with casual arrogance.
"It’s not like you’ll be able to defeat me with that thing anyway."
Lyrium’s fingers clenched around the hilt of his greatsword.
Tch!
His teeth ground together, his jaw tightening in frustration.
His pride was already taking blow after blow, and Eugene’s dismissive tone only made it worse.
But he didn’t lash out.
Instead—he inhaled deeply.
"Hu...."
And when he spoke, his words were slow, deliberate, and filled with an eerie calm.
"Hado Hissari."
As soon as the words left his lips, the air around him shifted.
A subtle but undeniable presence coiled around him—like an unseen force waiting to be unleashed.
Click—!
In that swift moment, Lyrium had already disappeared from his previous position—only to reappear behind Eugene.
Eugene’s brows lifted slightly in surprise.
"Fast."
But his instincts were sharper.
His palm shot up, clashing against Lyrium’s descending blade just before it could reach him.
Clank—!
Sparks flew as metal met flesh—yet Eugene remained unfazed, effortlessly holding back the attack.
"Whoa there,"
Eugene mused, amusement flickering in his eyes.
"That stance… that technique… Is that—"
But before he could finish, Lyrium vanished again.
Zwoosh—!
He reappeared, slashing from the opposite direction—his movements fluid, seamless, as if flowing with the wind itself.
Eugene’s eyes narrowed.
He raised his palm again, intercepting the attack with eerie precision.
And then, realization struck him.
"Two Heavens Sword Art?!!"
For the first time, genuine shock flashed across Eugene’s face.
His grip tightened slightly against the greatsword’s edge as he stared at Lyrium with newfound intrigue.
His lips curled into a smirk.
"So, you’re the successor of Miyamoto Musashi?"
"…"
But Lyrium didn’t reply.
He simply held his stance, eyes sharp, unwavering.
No words—just cold determination.
Eugene chuckled, his deep voice carrying a note of admiration.
"Heh… This just got interesting."
And in the back of his mind, a thought surfaced.
’Henry… what kind of monster did you raise, to have him inherit the legacy of the Niten Ichi-ryū sword art?’
*****
His sword art is back hahahaha..