E-Rank or SSS-Rank: I Awakened a Skill That Shouldn’t Exist

After Jay's casual declaration, he turned and walked away, the long white cloth draped over his shoulders fluttering in the sea breeze. His long black hair whipped behind him like a banner, glistening under the faint sunlight.

The three exhausted heroes could only stand frozen in their tracks, their minds blank with shock. Only a single thought ran wild through their heads:

This man is insane.

If they knew—if they truly understood—that Jay wasn't even an awakened, they would have collapsed on the spot in disbelief. For now, all they could do was watch the stranger vanish into the distance, his presence fading into the chaos of war.

Jay's playful smile disappeared the moment he was out of their sight. His expression hardened, his jaw clenched, and his hands tightened into fists.

He had not come here for fun, no matter how casually he had put it. He had come here for vengeance.

The cursed were not simply enemies. To Jay, they were evil incarnate.

They had ended the Tournament of Power, robbing him of the Evol Shard—the very key he had been entrusted with. The old master who was supposed to wield that shard had died shortly after, and Jay carried that guilt on his shoulders. The cursed had also orchestrated countless massacres across the continent, their cruelty culminating in the destruction of Maurina City. That tragedy alone had cost tens of thousands of innocent lives.

Jay's own research had uncovered even more—their experiments, their cult-like rituals, the strings they pulled behind wars and disasters. With every fact he uncovered, his conviction had grown sharper, harder, unbreakable.

The cursed must be destroyed.

That was no longer just a belief. It was his law, carved into his bones.

When Jay learned that the heroes were gathering for an assault on the cursed's stronghold, his blood had burned with grim satisfaction.

He did not know how many powerhouses the cursed harbored, but with several renowned heroes present, the odds no longer seemed impossible.

There was only one problem—reaching the island.

Airships were restricted, teleportation gates unavailable, and spaceships too few and too slow to obtain on short notice. Jay had no wings to soar the skies, but neither did he have patience to sit idle. So he chose the only option left:

He swam.

Through the Great Sea, the most dangerous stretch of ocean in the world. A sea crawling with beasts and abominations, some ranked at S-level, some even higher. Any sane man would call it suicide. But Jay had carved his way through storms and monsters alike, his will as sharp as his fists.

Hours passed in the depths, his muscles burning, his qi shielding him from the crushing pressure of the abyss. Yet he endured—and finally, he arrived.

Now, he stood on cursed soil.

Jay walked steadily across the battlefield, but irritation gnawed at him. Everywhere he looked were corpses—monsters, beasts, even heroes and Red Vanguards—all littering the blood-soaked ground. His eyes narrowed, his lips twisting.

"Tch. All this, and I still haven't seen the cursed with my own eyes," he muttered.

Then, at last, movement.

Up ahead, two figures clashed—or rather, one figure charged, while the other barely clung to his knees. Jay's sharp gaze focused instantly. The man on the ground was familiar: Silver Wing, a respected veteran, though now battered and drenched in blood. His armor was shattered, his wings torn, his breath ragged.

The attacker, however, was unfamiliar. Yet Jay did not need an introduction. The man was draped in obsidian armor, his body emanating a suffocating aura of malice. That darkness, that oppressive intent—it was unmistakable.

A cursed elite.

Jay's lips curved into a sharp grin.

"Finally."

Without hesitation, he bent his knees, qi erupting beneath his skin. The Fourth Jungle Art surged to life, his body blurring into motion as he streaked across the battlefield like lightning.

In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance. His momentum carried him high into the sky, energy spiraling outward, coiling around him until he resembled a living drill. The force gathered with each rotation, the air screaming as his descent began.

From above, he was a storm made flesh.

Silver Wing's eyes widened in disbelief as he caught sight of the figure dropping from the heavens. The cursed warrior—Garvin—snapped his head upward, snarling, his arm rising instinctively to block.

But it was too late.

Jay descended like a meteor, his spiraling qi unleashing an earth-shattering roar. When his drill-like strike collided with Garvin's block, the ground quaked. The dark emissary's bones rattled, his arm trembling violently under the impossible pressure.

Then—

BOOM!

The impact sent Garvin flying, his armored body smashing through rock and rubble, tumbling across the battlefield like a broken doll.

Jay landed lightly, his back straight, his aura calm as if he hadn't just driven an S-rank powerhouse into the dirt with a single strike. He exhaled, steam rising from his shoulders, and muttered coldly:

"Don't bother getting back up… unless you're ready to bleed."

Jay sharp gaze turned toward Silver Wing. The older hero was in far worse condition than Jay had imagined—his armor cracked, his body drenched in blood, and his wings broken beyond recognition.

"It seems you've had it rough," Jay said, his voice low but tinged with a casual smile. Then he added, "You know what? Leave this one to me. I'll be the one to take care of him."

Silver Wing's eyes flickered with both relief and hesitation, but before he could speak, Shae, who had regained just enough strength, supported his battered body and forced him upright. She looked at Jay with determination.

"Be careful," Silver Wing rasped, his voice weak but firm. "He's dangerous."

Jay only shrugged, his grin widening.

"Don't worry about me. I'm dangerous too."

Shae nodded once before retreating with the wounded Silver Wing. As soon as their figures faded into the distance, Jay's smile vanished, his face hardening like steel. His eyes locked onto Garvin.

"I've got a score to settle with the cursed," he said coldly. "And I'll start with you."

Garvin had been stunned ever since Jay's sudden appearance, but now he straightened, the initial shock giving way to something darker. His lips curled into a twisted grin.

"Oh… bring it on, then."

Jay's body bent slightly, his stance sinking, qi swirling violently around him. His hands curled into tight fists, his gaze narrowing to a predator's focus.

"Fourth Jungle Art—Cheetah Stride."

The moment the words left his lips, Jay vanished. The ground cracked beneath where he had been standing, dust exploding outward. In the very next instant, he reappeared right in front of Garvin, his fist already arcing toward his skull with lethal force.

Garvin smirked, utterly confident. He raised his hand, qi swirling and condensing into his palm. His skill—one that devoured the energy of his enemies—had ended countless battles in an instant. He was prepared to drain this reckless young hero dry.

But then it happened.

Jay's fist collided directly with Garvin's palm. Instead of absorbing, Garvin's hand rattled violently, bones creaking as if on the verge of shattering. His smirk disappeared in an instant, replaced by raw shock.

"Wh-what—?!"

Jay's strike didn't stop there. His fist plowed through Garvin's guard and slammed against the dark armor plating on his chest. Pain surged through Garvin's body like fire, the sheer force almost lifting him off the ground.

Before he could regain balance, Jay kicked off the ground again, his body blurring. Stepping on air as if it were solid ground, Jay twisted his frame, qi surging through his muscles.

His second punch came like thunder.

It smashed directly into Garvin's jaw with a crackling tremor, the shockwave rippling across the battlefield.

"Ghhhk—!"

The impact sent Garvin flying backward, his body flipping through the air like a ragdoll before crashing into the dirt. He tumbled, rolled, and skidded across the bloodstained ground before finally grinding to a halt.

For a few moments, he didn't move. Dust and debris settled, and silence pressed over the battlefield. Then, slowly, Garvin pushed himself up to his knees, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. His eyes burned with disbelief.

"…Impossible." His voice trembled with rage and confusion.

That last strike should have been impossible. His devouring palm should have absorbed every ounce of the youth's energy. Yet nothing had been drained. Nothing. Instead, his bones nearly broke under the impact.

Garvin's face darkened, his expression warping into fury. Only one conclusion made sense.

This young man—this so-called hero—wasn't using energy at all.

But if he wasn't using energy, then what was fueling that monstrous strength? How could a mere human without awakened essence strike with such terrifying force.

To be continued...

AUTHOR'S NOTE

That's the chapter, everyone!

If you enjoyed it, don't forget to vote with your Power Stones, drop a Golden Ticket, and leave a comment or review—it really helps the story grow and keeps me motivated to deliver more chapters for you all.

Your support means everything, so let me know what you think:

✨ Who's your favorite character so far?

✨ What do you think will happen next ?

✨ Any wild theories? I love reading them!

Stay tuned—the next chapter is coming soon.

– Ultra

AUTHOR'S NOTE

That's the chapter, everyone!

If you enjoyed it, don't forget to vote with your Power Stones, drop a Golden Ticket, and leave a comment or review—it really helps the story grow and keeps me motivated to deliver more chapters for you all.

Your support means everything, so let me know what you think:

✨ Who's your favorite character so far?

✨ What do you think will happen next ?

✨ Any wild theories? I love reading them!

Stay tuned—the next chapter is coming soon.

– Ultra