"I'm guessing that excuse of a professor told you my identity?"

Elione's voice had changed.

Gone was the trembling tone of the timid student with fogged glasses and a nervous smile.

What stood before Azel now was someone completely different… he was the same Elione however he was changed and there was something different in his eyes.

His voice had the tone of a noble who believed the world itself was beneath him.

No… it was far worse.

Azel's hand tightened on his sword hilt.

That voice… it sounded almost like the new magic professor.

'Racism too, huh?' he thought grimly. 'So the Fragment of the Sky comes with a god complex.'

"And if it was Professor Sebastian?" Azel asked.

He wasn't about to waste the trap yet.

He needed to confirm.

He could see it in Elione's eyes; the bastard was waiting for him to do something big.

He probably suspected Azel of having some hidden ace. And he wasn't wrong.

Azel did have one but he wasn't about to use it while this freak was expecting it.

So he'd play along.

"He was a strong man," Elione said, shrugging. "It's really a shame he ended up like that because of you."

He stepped closer with his smile stretching wider and the oily mana began oozing out of his eyes.

"And I'm sure you're dying to ask… how, why, what happened? You want to know why I'm eating skin, right? That's what you heroes always want… your little reason to feel sorry for the villain."

His grin widened as his tone sharpened.

"You're the Class Rep, the son of the Sword Saint. You've had everything handed to you since birth. Dual affinity… aura and mana, the world literally worships you. The women fawn over you, the professors praise you. Hell, I bet if you wanted to fuck one of them, they'd spread their legs on command—"

"Bro," Azel interrupted flatly. "Shut the fuck up."

Elione blinked.

"I don't care about your tragic villain monologue. I don't care why you eat skin, or what trauma made you edgy. Just fight already."

He twirled his sword once. "I'm already at my limit with this cliché crap."

Elione's grin twitched. "I hate how obnoxious you are."

Two knives materialized in his hands and their surfaces glowed in the same disgusting mana that was oozing from his eyes.

He blurred… and in an instant, he was gone.

The wind split with the sound of displacement as he appeared right in front of Azel with his knives flashing downward.

Azel's sword met them instantly.

CLANG!

Sparks burst like miniature stars as the force sent both of them sliding back, their boots digging into the ground.

The two collided again almost immediately, blades striking faster than ever.

"I'm sorry," Azel said calmly as they were locked in place for a second time. "for being so perfect that you're insecure enough to eat people to feel better."

He smiled however to Elione, it looked like it was a pitiful one. "But I guess imitation really is the sincerest form of flattery."

Elione's teeth ground audibly. "You—!"

He was pushed backward through the air, landing several meters away from Azel and just then, the ground shattered beneath Azel's feet as his aura surged.

"Third Style…"

He inhaled sharply, aura snapping violently around his body.

"…Dragon Claw!"

The sword moved… one clean arc that became five.

Five streaks of condensed green aura shot forward, each slash was sharp enough to slice through the air itself.

The ground cracked open beneath them, exploding into flying debris as the slashes converged on Elione.

They hit.

Or at least, they should have.

Elione stood perfectly still in the storm of cuts, a mad grin twisting on his face as blood spattered the air.

Then…

The cuts closed.

Instantly.

"I've adapted to aura," he declared with a manic laughter. "Don't you understand? I'm perfect!"

He stretched his arms out as the green blades passed through him harmlessly. "I don't even need skin anymore. I'm the perfect human!"

A notification burned briefly across Azel's vision.

[The Fragment of the Sky is rooting deeper into the vessel's soul]

He didn't have time to think about what that meant.

The bastard was already moving again with his knives spinning as he lunged forward.

Azel flipped his grip, reversing the sword and channeling aura into it.

Elione's knives shot outward… oily trails of black mana ripping through the air like serpents. The ground where they passed rotted.

Azel's sword glowed white-gold for a moment and then he swung.

The slash and the knives met mid-air but instead of canceling out, Elione's knives twisted back around violently, turning against him like vipers biting their master.

"What—"

The knives struck his arm and shoulder, and the effect was immediate.

His flesh sizzled and began melting.

"Y-you reflected my attack?!" he gasped, horror finally making way into his eyes.

The burning smell filled the field.

"So this is what it feels like," Azel muttered, "to be hit with your own filth."

Before Elione could fully regenerate, Azel was already in front of him again.

"Sixth Style…"

He stabbed his sword into the ground.

The blade glowed and the air roared.

"…Tornado!"

A cyclone erupted from beneath their feet, the force so violent it shredded the dirt into dust.

Elione was launched upward like a ragdoll, spinning through the air as wind blades materialized around him, slicing faster and faster.

The shriek of the storm drowned everything.

Elione screamed as blood burst from his body but within seconds, his flesh began reforming, the wounds closing as quickly as they opened.

He steadied himself mid-air, forcing mana through his body.

"I'll always be a step ahead," he growled.

He waved his hand, and the tornado vanished instantly. He had already adapted…

However Azel was already moving through the air, riding the last gust with his sword drawn back.

Elione's grin returned. "Now show me your trump card! So I can adapt to it and be done with you!"

Azel's expression barely changed.

'I haven't used this style on anyone yet,' he thought. 'Maybe if I did, I would've ended him yesterday.'

His aura darkened… not just in color, but in nature.

The pressure was suffocating…

The sword in his hand changed.

The glow dimmed from gold to gray, then to a void-like black.

The sound of everything around them faded.

Elione felt it before he saw it… that primal sense of death crawling up his spine.

"What are you—"

He hurled his knife instinctively.

The weapon spun like lightning, aimed straight at Azel's heart.

But Azel didn't flinch.

He raised the sword above his head.

"Seventh Style…"

The air split… literally as he swung downward.

"Severance."

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