The shadows parted.
The golden radiance of Nikkei receded, not because she was dismissed—but because Lucifer himself stepped forward.
The air collapsed.
Rocky felt it instantly. Not pressure. Not fear. Authority.
The dungeon floor cracked beneath Lucifer's boots as if the world itself acknowledged him.
"So," Lucifer said calmly, his voice carrying without effort, "you survived."
Rocky lifted his head, chains rattling softly. Even standing still, Lucifer radiated power greater than armies, greater than storms. This wasn't just a summoner.
This was a legend who had already won countless wars.
Risha moved in front of Rocky instinctively, shadows flaring. "Careful," she warned. "This is no projection. No avatar."
Lucifer's eyes flicked to her. Just a glance.
Risha's shadows froze.
"A demoness who defected," Lucifer said. "Interesting choice, Rocky. Binding her as a summon… clever." His gaze returned to Rocky. "But cleverness does not bridge a gap of thousands of leagues."
The magical system screamed warnings across Rocky's vision.
Enemy Detected: Lucifer
Class: Legendary Summoner (Ancient Tier)
Threat Level: Catastrophic
Victory Probability: Near Zero
Rocky swallowed—but didn't look away.
"I don't need to beat you," Rocky said, forcing steadiness into his voice. "I just need to keep moving."
Lucifer smiled.
That was when Rocky knew he had already made a mistake.
With a single motion, Lucifer raised his hand—and reality bent.
Summoning circles layered over one another, dozens at once, each more complex than anything Rocky had ever created. No chants. No strain. Just absolute mastery.
"You rely on growth," Lucifer said. "I rely on experience."
The air detonated as Lucifer's summons began to manifest—not fully, not yet—but the pressure alone sent Rocky skidding backward, chains scraping against stone.
Risha snarled. "Rocky, don't engage directly! This is suicide!"
"I know!" Rocky shouted back.
But Lucifer was already moving.
In one step, he crossed the distance between them.
Rocky reacted on instinct—triggering every Summon Boost he could, flooding power into Risha, into the dungeon, into the chains themselves.
Shadows erupted.
Gravity twisted.
The dungeon groaned.
For a fraction of a second—just one—Lucifer stopped.
His eyes widened, not in fear, but in interest.
"…There it is," Lucifer murmured. "That spark."
Then he struck.
The clash didn't explode outward.
It collapsed inward.
Rocky felt himself torn from the ground as if the world rejected him, his vision flashing white as power far beyond him crushed down.
He was flung across the chamber, smashing into the far wall, chains finally snapping free—not by his strength, but by Lucifer's overwhelming force.
Rocky hit the floor hard, breath gone.
Lucifer stood untouched.
"Stand," Lucifer commanded. "Show me how far you can go."
Risha rushed to Rocky's side, shadows wrapping around him, her voice urgent. "You're alive. That alone is a miracle."
Rocky coughed, forcing himself up on shaking arms.
His body screamed.
His system flickered.
But his eyes burned.
"This isn't the end," Rocky said hoarsely.
Lucifer smiled wider.
"Good," he said. "Then this battle has meaning."
The war between summoners had begun.
Lucifer's smile faded.
Not into anger.
Not into cruelty.
Into calculation.
"You want to know why she's still alive?" Lucifer said calmly.
Rocky froze.
Risha's shadows trembled.
Lucifer took a slow step forward. "Sylvia. The knight you cling to. The one who shattered your certainty."
Rocky's breath hitched. "Don't say her name."
Lucifer ignored him.
"I needed your weakness," he continued. "So I tested her resolve. Her loyalty. Her breaking point."
The system in front of Rocky flickered violently.
Risha spun on Lucifer, fury erupting. "You—"
Lucifer raised one finger.
Risha's shadows collapsed, forced to kneel by sheer authority.
"I did not kill her," Lucifer said evenly. "I did not mutilate her. Pain is inefficient. Fear fades."
Rocky's hands shook.
"I broke her hope instead," Lucifer finished.
Silence.
The dungeon felt colder.
"She screamed your name," Lucifer said, watching Rocky closely now. "Not once. Not twice. Every time she refused to give you up."
Rocky's vision blurred.
The chains at his wrists—already broken—began to crack the stone beneath him as raw power leaked out uncontrollably.
Lucifer's eyes sharpened.
"There it is," he said softly. "Rage. Attachment. Predictability."
Risha forced herself upright, voice shaking with restrained fury. "You did all that… just to provoke him?"
Lucifer nodded once. "And it worked."
Rocky rose to his feet.
Slowly.
Every Summon Boost screamed at maximum output. The dungeon lights flickered. Gravity warped. Shadows spiraled violently around Risha as her bond to Rocky surged beyond normal limits.
His voice was low. Steady. Dangerous.
"You wanted my weakness," Rocky said.
"Congratulations."
Lucifer tilted his head. "Oh?"
Rocky's eyes burned—not with despair, but with something far worse.
"You found it," he said.
"And now you're standing inside it."
For the first time since the battle began—
Lucifer stopped smiling.
The system updated, symbols flashing erratically.
Emotional Limit Removed
Summon Boosts: Unstable
Warning: Power Escalation Detected
Risha felt it instantly. "Rocky… if you lose control—"
"I won't," Rocky said.
Because now, there was no hesitation left.
No fear.
No doubt.
Only one goal.
Get Sylvia back.
Lucifer straightened, summoning circles igniting behind him once more.
"Very well," he said. "Show me what a broken summoner becomes."
The air screamed as both powers surged.
And this time—
Rocky did not retreat.
Lucifer did not hesitate.
The moment Rocky surged forward, Lucifer met him with overwhelming force—not rage, not cruelty, but precision. Every movement was calculated, every strike timed to dismantle Rocky's rhythm, his summons, his confidence.
Rocky fought back.
Gravity warped.
Shadows lashed.
Summon Boosts flared wildly.
It wasn't enough.
Lucifer stepped through everything.
Each exchange widened the gap between them—experience versus instinct, legend versus potential. Rocky's vision blurred, his system flashing warnings too fast to read.
HP Critical
Summon Boosts Overloaded
Stability: Failing
Risha tried to intervene, shadows exploding outward—but Lucifer silenced her with a gesture, binding her power in place.
"Enough," Lucifer said calmly.
The world tilted.
Rocky hit the ground, breath stolen, consciousness slipping. The dungeon ceiling faded from view as darkness closed in.
Sylvia…
His thoughts dissolved.
And then—
Something answered.
Not a system alert.
Not a summon.
Himself.
A pressure ignited deep within Rocky's core—quiet at first, then rapidly expanding. His aura leaked out uncontrollably, flooding the dungeon with raw, unstable energy.
Lucifer frowned.
"That aura…" he muttered.
Risha felt it instantly. Her eyes widened. "Rocky…?"
The aura twisted—changed.
It bent toward Risha, synchronizing with her presence, her essence, her shadow signature.
And then—
It copied her.
Rocky's unconscious body lifted slightly from the ground as shadows wrapped around him—not Risha's shadows, but his own, perfectly mimicking her techniques, her control, her flow.
The system screamed back to life.
New Trait Activated: Aura Replication
Copied Skill Set: Risha – Shadow Manipulation
Efficiency: Incomplete / Rapid Adaptation
Warning: Unstable Awakening
Lucifer took a step back.
Not out of fear.
Out of recognition.
"…So that's your true nature," he said slowly. "You don't just summon."
Rocky's eyes snapped open.
They were no longer their usual color—reflected within them were moving shadows, mirroring Risha's power instinctively.
Rocky didn't stand.
He rose.
Shadows formed armor along his limbs, wings half-formed behind him—imperfect, raw, but unmistakably derived from Risha's abilities.
Risha stared in shock. "He's… copying me? No—he's learning me."
Lucifer's smile returned—sharp, intrigued.
"A summoner who evolves mid-defeat," he said. "Who turns allies into extensions of himself."
Rocky looked at Lucifer.
No words.
No hesitation.
Only intent.
The dungeon shook as his aura surged again—stronger, darker, adaptive.
Lucifer summoned his power once more.
"Very well," he said. "Wake up, Rocky."
"This time—fight."
And for the first time since the battle began…
The power gap began to shift.
Lucifer exhaled slowly.
The smile vanished.
"So," he said, voice dropping into something ancient and heavy, "you can adapt."
The shadows around Rocky surged again, unstable copies of Risha's techniques flickering across his body. The dungeon trembled under the pressure of his awakening aura, stone cracking as if unsure which summoner it should obey.
Lucifer turned away.
Not in retreat—but in decision.
Behind him, space opened.
Not a summoning circle.
Not magic.
Authority.
From the裂 in reality, a sword descended—pure, radiant, and impossibly heavy with meaning.
Risha stiffened. "No… that blade—"
Lucifer wrapped his hand around the hilt.
Excalibur.
The moment he touched it, the entire castle responded. Light and darkness aligned, as if the world itself acknowledged the weapon's true master.
The system in front of Rocky went berserk.
Artifact Detected: Excalibur
Rank: Absolute Relic
Effect: Conceptual Severance
Warning: Cannot Be Fully Defended Against
Lucifer turned back, golden blade resting at his side.
"I was curious," he said calmly. "Now I am serious."
The pressure doubled.
Rocky felt it immediately—his copied shadows destabilizing, his aura screaming in resistance. Excalibur wasn't just a weapon. It cut through rules, through buffs, through summoned power itself.
Risha moved in front of him without hesitation. "Rocky, listen to me. That sword doesn't just kill summons."
"It erases bonds."
Lucifer lifted Excalibur slightly. The light along its edge sharpened—not brighter, but clearer, like truth given form.
"You rely on connection," Lucifer said. "On emotion. On shared strength."
His eyes locked onto Rocky.
"Excalibur exists to end legends like that."
Rocky steadied his breathing, shadows coiling tighter around him, aura flaring wildly as his adaptive power struggled to compensate.
"So what?" Rocky said hoarsely. "You think that scares me?"
Lucifer nodded once.
"It should."
He took a single step forward—and the dungeon floor split, unable to withstand the intent behind the blade.
Risha clenched her fists. "Rocky… if he swings that sword at full authority—"
"I know," Rocky said.
His aura surged again—copying, adapting, straining.
But this time, something new flickered beneath it.
Not Risha's power.
His own.
Lucifer raised Excalibur, light and law aligning along its edge.
"Show me," he said, "whether adaptation can stand against inevitability."
The blade came down—
And the clash that followed would decide whether Rocky was merely evolving…
Or becoming something even legends were not meant to face.