The atmosphere shifted.
Not the air—
the presence.
Cris felt it before he understood it.
[Scene shifts to Cris]
Cris blinked, his brows furrowing.
"Wait… what?"
A soft laugh echoed behind him—light, mocking, almost affectionate.
"Oh, my dear darling," Decible purred. "You still don't get it?"
Cris turned sharply. "Huh?"
In the same instant, Decible vanished.
No sound.
No warning.
She reappeared right beside him, her fingers gently lifting his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes. Her smile was sweet—too sweet.
"Oh sweetheart," she whispered, her voice dripping with delight.
"Everyone is dead."
Cris's pupils shrank.
"And I," she continued softly, "was the one who planned it all… from the very beginning."
Before his mind could react—
Slash.
A small knife plunged straight into his side.
"Arghh—!" Cris gasped, pain tearing through his body.
Decible twisted the blade once… then kicked him violently across the arena. Cris's body slammed against the ground, skidding across the surface before coming to a halt.
The Ice Awakens
Cris pushed himself up, breathing heavily.
Slowly…
his eyes began to glow.
A deep, frozen blue spread through his pupils, the temperature around him plummeting instantly.
The ground cracked.
Frost surged outward in every direction as Cris activated his first move.
Zero Temperature.
In a blink, the entire arena froze, locked in absolute stillness.
Decible raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed.
"Oh?" she chuckled.
"I didn't expect you to start with this move."
She clapped lightly.
"Quick. Impressive. I love your instincts."
The ice surged toward her—
—but Decible calmly raised her hand.
A musical barrier formed around her, vibrating like a living rhythm. The ice shattered harmlessly against it.
Cris didn't hesitate.
Twin daggers materialized in his hands, their blades glowing with frozen energy. He lunged forward, striking again and again—
—but Decible conjured a veil of sound, bending the air itself. Every strike was deflected, swallowed by invisible waves.
She smiled.
"Oh dear," she said softly.
"You can't win against me."
The Sonic Impact
Suddenly—
BOOM.
A sonic shockwave erupted, smashing directly into Cris. His body flew backward as the sound crushed his senses, rattling his bones.
But then—
Cris laughed.
"Ahh…" he exhaled, standing upright despite the damage.
"Finally… I can stop acting."
A terrifying aura poured out from him, freezing the air even deeper.
Decible's smile faltered.
"Huh?"
Cris lifted his head, eyes blazing.
"Shall we start Round Two, my dear…
DECIBLE?"
[Scene shifts – a few minutes earlier]
Wal stood calmly, watching Tuna.
"It looks like your secrets are being revealed," he said.
Tuna smirked faintly.
"Not yet."
Her body suddenly collapsed.
She fainted—with a devious smile still on her face.
Before Wal could react—
A massive figure appeared, moving at the speed of sound.
A muscular man's kick tore through the air—
Wal barely blocked it at the last moment.
"What the—?!" Wal gasped.
His knees buckled. Nausea overwhelmed him and he fell forward, vomiting violently.
The muscular man kicked him again, brutally interrupting the motion. Wal's body slammed into a wall with a sickening crack.
Blood poured freely as Wal lost consciousness.
The muscle man clicked his tongue, spitting on the ground.
"What? You said he was strong," he muttered through his Bluetooth.
A calm voice replied.
"Don't let your guard down, Gen."
"…Yeah. I know."
The Red-Haired Arrival
In the blink of an eye—
A red-haired boy with crimson eyes appeared.
His punch connected instantly.
The muscular man was sent flying.
Gen reacted fast, launching himself toward Wal—but before he could land—
The red-haired boy appeared right in front of him.
Fire gathered in his fist.
He punched.
A massive sonic explosion erupted, swallowing the arena in smoke.
After the Smoke Clears
Gen coughed.
"Oh… I didn't expect someone to take that punch and live."
A voice answered calmly.
"And I didn't expect you to survive either."
Gen narrowed his eyes.
"What's your name, young man?"
"My name is Silva."
[Scene shifts back to Cris]
Cris spread his arms.
"Second Skill—
The Fragrance of the Dragon."
Ice flowers bloomed across the frozen ground, radiating cold mist. A chilling wind howled through the arena.
Decible laughed.
"Unique Skill—
The Dance of Music."
The flowers hadn't even bloomed fully before musical notes erupted from the air itself, attacking Cris from every direction.
He destroyed them all—
shattering sound with steel and ice.
Decible summoned a massive tuning-hammer-like construct, swinging it straight for Cris's head—
—but a spectral dragon tail formed behind him.
He twisted mid-air, dodging the blow, and countered instantly.
Slash. Slash. Slash.
Three clean strikes tore through Decible.
Skill Breakdown (In-World Notice)
Cris – Second Skill Effects:
Ice flowers manifest across the ground
Continuous cold wind
Dragon tail manifestation
Speed and strength greatly increased (Buff)
Decible – Unique Skill: The Dance of Music
Speed & defense increased
Sound attacks become aggressive
Attacks become randomized and unpredictable
Decible raised his hand slowly, almost respectfully.
"1st Skill — The Book of Tunes."
The air split with a dull metallic hum. A thick, ancient book materialized in front of him, its cover carved with shifting symbols that refused to stay still. The pages flipped on their own, violently, as glowing runes tore themselves free and hovered around Cris like predatory insects.
Each rune pulsed.
Then they attacked.
They didn't rush blindly. They adjusted—cutting off escape paths, striking from blind angles, forcing Cris to move instead of think.
Cris exhaled sharply.
Ice crawled up his boots, spreading across the ground as he dodged the first wave. With a flick of his wrist, razor-thin ice shards erupted upward, shattering two runes mid-air.
The moment they broke—
The remaining runes changed.
They vibrated harder. Faster. Stronger.
"…So they learn," Cris muttered.
He destroyed another rune.
The air pressure spiked.
His breath fogged thicker now. Too thick.
The ice around his feet crept higher, biting into his calves. He ignored it and moved again—too late. A rune clipped his shoulder, burning cold straight through muscle.
Cris hissed. Not from pain.
From the drop in body heat.
His fingers stiffened. Just slightly. Enough to matter.
Decible smiled.
"You can keep destroying them," he said calmly. "But every one you break sharpens the rest."
Cris knew that already.
That's why he stopped attacking.
Instead, he stepped back—and slammed his palm into the ground.
"3rd Skill — Bloom of Flowers."
Cracks raced across the battlefield. Pale, frost-covered flowers burst from the earth, blooming unnaturally fast. Their petals trembled, releasing a faint mist that shimmered in the air.
The scent spread instantly.
Sweet.
Wrong.
Decible's eyes widened.
"What—"
The moment she inhaled, her knees buckled. The runes faltered mid-air, their glow flickering as Decible's strength drained away. Her consciousness slipped, vision blurring, body collapsing forward.
But Cris didn't move.
He couldn't.
The scent reached him too.
He turned his head away and held his breath, veins standing out on his neck. Even then, his vision dimmed at the edges. The cold inside his body worsened—Bloom of Flowers always took more than it gave.
Finish it. Now.
Ice crept up his wrists as he forced his legs to move. Each step felt heavier than the last. His daggers formed slowly this time—edges not as clean, not as sharp.
That scared him more than Decible ever could.
Cris reached the fallen enemy, knelt, and drove both daggers into Decible's sides with precision born from habit, not strength.
The runes shattered and vanished.
Silence returned.
Cris stood there longer than necessary.
His breath came out uneven. His hands trembled faintly as the flowers withered into frost-covered ash around him.
Another execution.
Clean.
Too clean.
For a split second, Decible's face lingered in his mind—not as an enemy, but as a human being who never got to finish a sentence.
Cris clenched his fists.
The ice around his body cracked and fell away.
He turned his back on the corpse and walked forward, slower now, colder than before—not from the air, but from something settling deeper inside him.
Silva stood still.
Not relaxed.
Not careless.
Still—like something that did not need to move.
Gen felt it the moment he stepped forward.
This old man…
He's not slow. He's waiting.
Gen smiled anyway.
"Hey, old man," he said lightly. "Let's see if you can handle this."
"1st Skill — Fire Tornado."
Silva's foot slid back. Heat exploded outward as a spiraling inferno tore itself from the ground, twisting high into the air. The temperature spiked instantly—stone cracked, air warped, and escape routes vanished behind walls of flame.
Gen didn't panic.
"1st Skill — Sound Steps."
The world snapped.
His body dissolved into motion, reappearing in sharp bursts of compressed sound. Each step detonated the air beneath his feet, leaving behind ripples that shattered against the firestorm.
He was everywhere.
Behind Silva.
Above him.
To his side.
A punch landed.
Then another.
Then a dozen more.
Silva didn't move.
The blows struck his body—and stopped.
Gen frowned.
"…What?"
Silva raised his head slightly.
"2nd Skill — Indestructible Body."
Dark red scales crawled across Silva's skin, locking into place like living armor. Heat surged outward—not violently, but steadily, like a furnace reaching critical pressure.
Gen jumped back instantly.
The ground beneath Silva began to melt.
But Silva himself did not advance.
Gen noticed it.
He's not moving.
Sound bullets formed around Gen's hands—dense spheres of compressed vibration.
"2nd Skill — Sound Bullet."
They fired.
The bullets screamed through the air, slamming into Silva's chest, shoulders, neck.
They cracked the ground behind him.
They shattered stone.
Silva absorbed them all.
But Gen saw it.
Tiny fractures in the scales.
Heat pulsing unevenly.
The air trembling.
So he's defending everything… but paying for it.
Silva exhaled slowly.
"You're fast," he said. "Too fast to catch."
Gen smirked. "Then don't try."
Silva's scales began to fade.
The heat dropped slightly.
Gen's instincts screamed.
Now.
Silva's feet shifted.
Once.
That was all.
"Combat Skill — Breath of the Fire Dragon."
The heat didn't explode.
It compressed.
Silva's body coiled like a drawn bow. The air shrieked as pressure collapsed inward—then—
He vanished.
Not at sound speed.
Faster.
Gen tried to move.
His mind reacted.
His body didn't.
Silva reappeared directly in front of him, fist already drawn back, flames spiraling tight around his arm—not wild, not massive.
Focused.
"Second Form — Punch of the God."
The punch landed.
There was no explosion.
No light.
Just a single, clean impact.
Gen's skull fractured instantly. The sound didn't even have time to form.
His body lifted off the ground—not thrown, not blasted—simply released, like gravity had let go.
Silva stumbled back the moment it was over.
The flames around his arm collapsed. His breath came out heavy. The ground beneath him was scorched deep, cracked like glass.
He dropped to one knee.
"…One time," he muttered. "That's all."
Gen's body never hit the ground.
It faded—scattered into drifting particles of sound and heat, dissolving upward into the sky as if the world itself had erased him.
Silva closed his eyes.
"You were strong," he said quietly. "Be proud."
And then cris and classy enters wals room and notices wal is on the ground and looks Silva is over ther and thinks silva is the one who did this to wal and tries to throw hands on silva