Chapter 113: Personal Vendetta

Chapter 113: Personal VendettaChapter 112: The Calm Before the Storm

As the golden sun dipped below the jagged horizon of Marinua, casting long shadows across the colossal arena, the crowd slowly began to disperse. The thunderous cheers and pounding hearts from earlier faded into a tense silence—one that loomed heavy with anticipation. The Selection Matches were over, but the true war was only just beginning.

The official tournament would commence at dawn.

Lord Tech, in his usual composed manner, gave the participants access to Marinua’s most coveted facility: the Awakening Training Chamber. A place whispered about with awe—a sanctuary for warriors seeking to refine their gifts before facing death in the arena.

The chamber was colossal, carved deep into the mountain’s core and fortified with obsidian runes that suppressed explosive energy. Here, Awakener-grade training equipment lined the walls: ancient weights inscribed with arcane sigils, strength pillars capable of snapping the spine of a normal human, and simulators that mirrored the pressure of high-gravity dimensions. One misstep in this chamber could spell catastrophe for the untrained.

Only the bold dared to enter.

Naturally, Han, Aiden, Ronan, and a handful of other elite contenders stepped through the reinforced gates, their gazes sharp and focused. Each of them tested the powerful mechanisms in silence—lifting weights, analyzing pressure tech, and practicing energy synchronization.

But not everyone had come to train.

Almighty stepped inside... not with purpose, but with desperation.

Unlike the rest, he wasn’t here to grow stronger. He was here for survival.

His target? The unnerving monster he was scheduled to face the next day—Aiden.



Almighty’s eyes darted through the room until they landed on a lone figure by the gravity corner, effortlessly curling a 1-ton weight like it was a child’s toy. Almighty’s throat went dry.

No way... He’s not even breaking a sweat.

Then Aiden added another ton.

Then another.

And another.

By the time he reached 5 tons, the weight should’ve shattered the bones of any sane warrior. But Aiden’s expression barely flinched. His muscles rippled, then shifted grotesquely. With a subtle morph, his arms enlarged, bulging with gorilla-like power, and the weight suddenly felt... manageable.

Almighty’s face paled.

He’s not human... he’s a damn monster in disguise.

When Aiden finally set the weights down, he turned—and saw his opponent.

"Yo," he greeted casually, flashing a tooth-bearing grin that somehow felt sharper than a dagger. The kind of smile a lion gives a gazelle before pouncing.

"Please, stop that," Almighty muttered grumpily, his arms folded, face twitching.

Aiden blinked. "Stop what?"

"That smile," Almighty grunted. "Even a fool would know that’s not a friendly one."

Aiden tilted his head innocently. He really thought he had masked it well. Maybe I need more practice with pretending, he mused.

The tension between them hung in the air like a suspended blade.

Almighty exhaled deeply and stepped forward with a smug tilt of his chin. "Listen, let’s not waste time tomorrow. You’re strong—sure, I can admit that. But honestly? I’m not exactly at my peak right now. If I were, this wouldn’t even be a conversation. So how about we spare you the embarrassment and settle things the peaceful way?"

Aiden raised a brow. "Peaceful way?"

"Yes. You let me win. In return, I’ll give you whatever you want. Money. Artifacts. Power. Name it." Almighty spread his arms, trying to seem generous, despite the sweat dripping down his back.

Aiden paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Anything?"

"Anything but an Evol Shard," Almighty quickly added. "Because I, uh... don’t have one."

Aiden’s expression fell. "Tch. That was my first choice."

"Of course it was," Almighty muttered under his breath, eyes twitching.

Still, Aiden sat back, fingers steepled in deep contemplation. The silence stretched painfully long. Almighty held on to the last thread of hope, watching Aiden’s expression for any sign of mercy.

Then—

"I’ve decided," Aiden said suddenly.

Almighty perked up. "Really? So, what’ll it be?"

Aiden leaned in, eyes gleaming.

"I’ll be fighting for real."



It was like a hammer to the gut. Almighty’s face drained of all color. His lips twitched. "You... what?"

"No holding back," Aiden said calmly, standing up. "I want to see how long you could last while not at your peak."

Almighty stared blankly at the floor. His brain screamed. I’m going to die tomorrow. This lunatic is going to turn me into arena paste.

Aiden tilted his head, his obsidian eyes scanning Almighty with a mild look of curiosity, as if dissecting a puzzle no one had yet solved.

"Why do you sound... scared?" he asked casually. "Aren’t you supposed to be one of the most powerful humans alive?"

The question hung in the air, soft yet piercing.

Almighty straightened his back, arms folded with practiced arrogance, and replied in a steady tone, "I’m not scared."

But deep inside, beneath the calm exterior and the mask of bravado, his soul was screaming.

I’m terrified. Utterly, hopelessly terrified. Not of you—but of what you become when you stop holding back. When your eyes shift. When the smile fades. When the monster within you wakes up.

He gulped internally. If I don’t find a way out of this match... tomorrow’s arena will become my grave.

As if fate decided to give him a momentary distraction from his impending doom, a sudden commotion rippled through the Training Chamber.

A distant clang. A shock of energy.

Without a word, Aiden turned his head sharply toward the source, already walking toward the disturbance. Almighty followed, curiosity and dread mixing in his chest like acid and fire.

They arrived at the scene—and the tension in the air was palpable.

Two figures stood across from each other in a cleared section of the chamber. The room had gone deathly quiet, every other contender stepping back, forming a wide circle, instinctively knowing this was not a spar... this was personal.

On the right, stood Jay.

His stance was relaxed, but the killing intent rolling off his body was thick enough to choke on. His expression was calm—far too calm. It was the kind of calm one had when they’d already decided someone wasn’t walking away alive.

On the left, stood Argon.

Tall. Emotionless. Cold as frost, his presence exuded a silent arrogance. His arms were folded, but his aura was anything but passive. It was crackling—compressed lightning waiting to erupt.

Jay took a step forward.

"Apologize."

The word cut through the silence like a blade. No shouting. No threats. Just a cold command.

Argon’s brow lifted. "For what?"

Jay’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of memory flashing in them—Dave, lying broken and bloodied, barely breathing. The metallic scent of blood still haunted his nose. The moment replayed again and again behind his eyes.

"I found my friend in a pool of his own blood," Jay said softly, "because you thought it’d be fun to make a point."

Argon’s lips twitched, not into a smile, but something colder. "You mean the insect that got in my way? Why don’t you apologize—for touching me first."

The crowd tensed.

Jay’s fists clenched slowly at his sides, veins bulging beneath pale skin. His voice was still a whisper, but the room grew heavier with each word.



"I’m going to kill you."

It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t a promise.

It was an absolute.

Argon’s response was instant. His own fists curled, joints popping like distant gunshots. "Not if I kill you first."

Then—they moved.

The air around them shattered.

Two fists blurred through space faster than the human eye could track.

BOOOOOMMMM!!!

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To be continued...

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