The shard rests in my palm like a lump of midnight that devours every gleam of torch‑light, and the System prompt hangs in the air while the arena quakes from the Ogre Warlord's advance.

You have obtained [Dark Blade ] (Gold – Offensive Skill).

Would you like to absorb this Skill?

You have absorbed Dark Blade .

"Yes."

The crystal sinks through my skin, and ice floods every vein. I feel as if a glacier grows inside my arteries, and each jagged spike scrapes muscle from bone. Heat never bothered me, yet this cold gnaws deeper than fire. I claw at the stone floor, gasping, while black veins crawl from my heart to my throat and across my cheeks. They burn charcoal‑black along my arms, and they snake beside the scarlet rivulets of Veins of Fire.

A roar shakes the benches that ring the arena. The Ogre Warlord hauls its bulk up the stairs and drags twin maces that clink against the marble. Spikes crust every link of chain. Dried blood stains the maul heads, and yellowed fangs rim the beast's iron helm. One crimson eye glares through the visor because the other socket hosts a splintered bone peg. Scar‑tissue webs its gray hide, and fresh gore steams upon its breastplate. Each footfall splits flagstones.

Kid.

King Baalrek's voice rattles inside my skull like gravel in a forge pan.

Guide the Darkness or it will burst your heart.

"What?" I spit and taste copper. "Where are you?"

I have been waiting in the cave since the bracelet. I nudged your path, and I set that shard where your hand could reach it. Quit whining because the monster is coming.

My jaw clamps when the Ogre's shadow washes over me. I yank the Grimoire into focus.

[Dark Blade – Gold Rank – Lv. 1]

Mana Cost per Swing — 1350 MP

???

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Dark Blade — Gold Rank — Lv. 1

Unbound siphon: Skill drains without route, wastes 83 % of gathered mana, floods false veins, causes necrotic backlash after nine seconds.

Shear pulse: Swing rips circulatory nodes, halves cutting speed, risks tendon failure.

Chaotic brine: Darkness mana spirals through fire veins, scalds tissue, scrambles nerve patterns, and produces paralysis.

Solution

Seal the Spring Veins number three, seven, nine with mirrored fire loops.

Route darkness through the Draining Veins around the heart.

Synchronize pulse on a five‑count, then lock lattice behind sternum.

The floor lurches. I obey because hesitation equals death.

It appears like the Dark Blade, unlike any other Skill I've had, it's ready to kill me before I can even use it.

Veins of Fire flares, yet I fold its flow inward so molten mana scabs over three key junctions. Darkness slithers into the new conduits, and the frost eases where the flames hug it.

A dull ache stays, though the tearing stops.

I count the beat—one, two, three, four, five—and snap a last loop below the collarbone. The void energy still bites, yet it marches in rhythm now.

[Dark Blade – Lv. 1 → Lv. 20]

Mana Cost per Swing —  1350 MP → 780 MP

Contact Damage — 5600 HP

Dark Resonance: Dark Blade influences your other Skills through Darkness.

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Power convulses through me, and a blade coalesces in my fist. The weapon smokes, and the smoke drinks light. No hilt exists because my hand grips raw shadow that molds to my fingers. Edges flex with a sound like cracking ice.

Hell's Sword always felt like molten copper that vented from my bones, yet this force feels like a file that scrapes marrow away to forge steel in its place. Every heartbeat rips energy from muscle, and my vision flickers black at the edges. The veins tattoo my arms in onyx, and the crimson rivers of Veins of Fire weave between them.

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* * *

"What's that?" Lord Clearwater says, stunned. He can feel some of the incredible power that Jacob Cloud has apparently just summoned out of nowhere.

"A new Skill," Sir Renquell says, squinting. "That's… Darkness."

"Darkness?!" Lord Clearwater's mouth hangs open.

Most of the nobles present sport confused faces until someone more knowledgeable among them starts explaining.

"Darkness is an extremely rare Affinity! It's said to be among the most dangerous to learn and combine with others!"

"It's not just that, it's also known to be the Affinity of you-know-whom!"

"Of whom?"

"INFERNALS!"

"Infernals?!" another noble shouts back.

They erupt in a cacophony of sounds.

But Lord Clearwater focuses on Sir Renquell, ignoring, for the moment the new Affinity that Jacob Cloud apparently just unlocked.

"Will he make it? That might be an Infernal Skill or whatnot, Sir Renquell… but, will he make it?"

Sir Renquell turns to Lord Clearwater with almost a pitying expression.

"Lord Clearwater," the Elf says with a sigh. "The fact that you have to ask shows that you lack worldly experience.

"What?" Lord Clearwater frowns.

"Have you ever met an Infernal?" Sir Renquell asks.

"No?"

"The three Great Races are called that for a reason, milord."

* * *

King Baalrek's command rings in my head with the same authority that split my soul from fear on the lowest level of the mines.

He says, Don't waste the moment. Attack.

He speaks like the world is made of iron, and his will is the only forge.

I do not hesitate because hesitation is death, and it feels like I already died once in this pit.

I throw myself at the Ogre Warlord with all the force that Veins of Fire and Dark Blade can muster.

My wings crackle with streaks of shadow, black as the gap between stars, and the feathers drip with embers.

Is that the influence of the Dark Blade? I think for a moment.

My heart pounds in my ears while I launch myself forward, and I see the blackened veins on my arms pulsing with every beat. I focus because the monster's rage will not give me a second chance.

The Ogre Warlord swings both maces toward my chest. Each chain hisses, and the heads crash against the ground so hard that marble chips spray across the arena.

The impact leaves a crater big enough to swallow my legs.

I jump to the side, then fire jets of mana behind my back with Fire Walk, using every ounce of Flameform Blueprint to control the trajectory. I twist around, letting the force spin me, and I cut at the Ogre's chest with Dark Blade while my body rides the line between gravity and flight.

The blade bites deep.

The moment the edge finds flesh, I feel something I have never felt with any Skill before.

It pulls on my stamina like a starving animal.

It draws on my mana and my life at the same time, and I feel a cold so intense that it freezes my joints from the inside out.

The monster roars, but I do not flinch. The ice in my veins holds me steady, and the fire keeps my muscles from seizing up.

The slash leaves a wound that pours black blood down the Ogre's chest, and the smell hits my nostrils with a mix of iron and rot.

The Ogre Warlord does not falter, though the wound splits its hide open from collarbone to hip. It swings again with both maces, and I have to leap backward.

I activate Fire Walk again, drawing more on the connection between Veins of Fire and Flameform Blueprint, so the jets from my legs explode against the floor and send me rocketing upward.

The Ogre's next attack misses, and its maces collide so hard that sparks fly from the impact.

I angle myself behind the beast's left shoulder.

As I drop, I swing upward with Fire Slash, pouring Darkness into the Skill. The blade flickers with streaks of black flame that weave with the red.

The force of the slash carries me past the Ogre's head, and I leave another deep wound that burns along the inside. The monster staggers, losing its footing for the first time, and it crashes to one knee while blood soaks its armor.

Kill it now, King Baalrek says. Show them that you can do what nobody else in this place dares. Prove you have the right to wield that power.

I do not hesitate.

I raise Dark Blade above my head, both hands gripping the hilt of living shadow.

The blade feels heavier with every second, but I force more mana through my veins and channel the fire and the darkness together.

My vision narrows until the Ogre's skull fills it. I scream as I bring the blade down, and the force rips the sound from my throat.

The air howls as red and black flames twist around the edge, fusing into something no human has ever seen.

The Ogre Warlord raises its mace to block. Its arm shakes, and its single eye burns with hatred. The blade crashes into the weapon, and the impact throws me back a step, but I hold on.

I push harder, and I feel the darkness tearing at the monster's soul. The mace begins to smoke, then it splits with a shriek that rattles the stands. Fragments of iron fly through the air.

I bring the blade down again. This time, I cut straight through the gap in the Ogre's defense. The edge bites into the monster's neck, and for an instant, time seems to slow.

The black and red energy devours the flesh, and the bone cracks with a wet pop.

The Ogre's head lolls sideways, barely attached by a strip of tendon, and its body collapses forward, smashing into the broken flagstones with the force of a toppled tree.

A tremor shakes the arena, and dust rises around us.

I stand in the cloud, still holding Dark Blade, which smokes in my grip.

My arms tremble, but I hold on while my veins burn with fire and ice.

I breathe in the iron-rich air and know that for the first time since I entered this city, they understand I am no one's pawn.

* * *

The stands are silent at first.

Then voices erupt from the nobles and the commoners alike, and the word "Infernal" spreads from mouth to mouth as they realize what just happened.

Lord Clearwater looks at Sir Renquell, who does not smile, but his eyes glint with a hard pride.

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