Echoes of a Crafted World

After they clear the floor, all of them were teleported in the lobby, The ground beneath them was smooth white stone veined with glowing silver lines. Around them stretched a surreal landscape, The town hall, a training ground with weapon dummies and sparring arenas, a quiet fountain surrounded by benches, and stone towers at the perimeter humming with arcane light.

And their injuries started to recover at the fast rate, their energy are being replenish, their clothes starying to repair itself

Elion stared upward, breath still shaky. His eye throbbed. The left one—was glowing faintly.

With a flutter, the black fairy descended before them, her wings twitching with elegance and shadow. Her dress was stitched with dark starlight, and her voice carried like wind through crystal.

"Congratulations, heroes."

Her lips curved into a wicked smile.

"The Goblin King has fallen. The Fifth Floor is clear. Few make it this far… especially not freshly summoned trash."

Cain raised an eyebrow. "Nice to see you too."

The fairy ignored him, turning to Elion. Her eyes narrowed as she hovered closer, stopping just before his face.

"You… are different now."

He said nothing.

"Your soul has shifted. Something inside you broke—and something ancient took root."

Her smile widened.

"You've awakened a forgotten eye."

Then—

[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT]

Congratulations, Player Nèvalis.

Your character "Elion" has achieved ★ 1-Star Hero Rank.

The sky above shimmered with system runes.

[SPECIAL ABILITY AWAKENED: CRIMSON ECHO]

"What the eye witnesses… the soul remembers."

You may now store up to 10 skills observed in real-time.

Each skill, once copied, remains in your Crimson Archive.

You may activate copied skill, usable for up to 10 minutes, once a day.

[Warning!]

Drawback – Blood Resonance Overload

Prolonged use of Crimson Echo causes:

▸ Internal bleeding

▸ Visual distortion

▸ Mana backlash

▸ Potential permanent damage

Abuse may lead to irreversible blindness or memory corruption.

Crimson Archive – [0/10]

Each level of Crimson Echo increases archive capacity by +10.

---

[A message from the player]

[Hero "Greg" will become an ingredient to make the hero "Elion" stronger.]

The message blinked in the air like a divine decree.

Gasps echoed across the lobby. The party in the background froze. Conversations halted. The fairy's wings faltered mid-flap.

At the far end of the lobby—near the obsidian pillars where the training dummies stood—Greg stood still, staring up at the message. His eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat.

"Why..." he muttered, almost inaudible. "Why should I die…?"

His hands clenched into fists at his side, trembling with fury. Then, with a sudden jerk, he bowed his head and shouted, "No! I won't accept this, Master!"

His voice thundered across the player base. The air grew thick with tension.

All eyes turned to him. Whispers stirred.

"I... I don't want to die! I'll challenge him!" he declared, stepping forward with purpose.

[Hero "Greg" has challenged Hero "Elion"]

The system's voice rang out like a gavel strike.

The fairy's face turned pale. "W-What do you mean? Don't do that!" she shouted, fluttering toward him.

Greg didn't look at her. His eyes were locked onto Elion. "I know the master is not absolute. There are things even he can't control. If I challenge you directly, he can't stop it."

He slowly walked across the courtyard, drawing his sword from its sheath. Its edge gleamed in the light of the lobby, his expression shadowed with anger and desperation.

"The master's throwing me away," Greg said coldly. "He found someone new. Someone with potential. So now I'm nothing but fuel. Trash."

He pointed his sword directly at Elion. "I know you've awakened some powerful ability. But right now, you're still too weak. And I… I want to live. I have no other way."

Elion's gaze flickered. A memory surfaced—blades in the dark, a hand on his shoulder, and a best friend's betrayal. Pain bloomed in his chest.

"Elion, don't accept it," the fairy warned. "If you do, the master truly won't be able to intervene."

Elion's lips curled into a slight smirk. "So the master isn't all-powerful, huh… That's good to know."

He took a step forward.

"I accept your challenge."

[Hero "Elion" has accepted the challenge of Hero "Greg"]

[The player Nèvalis will not be able to intervene in this battle.]

A sudden shimmer of light erupted between them. A golden barrier encased the courtyard, sealing them in a space beyond interference.

Greg didn't hesitate. The instant the barrier solidified, he dashed forward.

"Swordshot!"

His blade extended unnaturally—rippling with condensed air and aura. A shockwave burst from the tip, invisible but deafening, tearing across the distance with the speed of a bullet.

Elion's eyes widened. Instinct kicked in.

"Copy. Swordshot!"

[Skill "Swordshot" has been stored in Crimson Archive.]

[Crimson Archive: 1/10 skills.]

Elion's own sword surged with force. Two invisible shockwaves collided mid-air—BOOM! A massive eruption of force knocked dust and wind in every direction. The entire lobby rumbled from the impact.

Spectators shielded their eyes. Some stumbled back. And when the smoke cleared…

Elion was kneeling. Blood trickled from his left eye, the strain of using an unfamiliar sword technique tearing into his body. His arm trembled violently as he tried to stay upright. His breath came in ragged gasps.

But Greg was relentless.

"Too slow!"

He was already in front of Elion, slashing downward. Elion barely raised his shield in time, deflecting the blow with a resounding clang! He countered with a sharp upward slash.

Clink! Clank! Slash!

The sound of steel against steel filled the barrier like a symphony of war. They moved like dancers, fluid and deadly—each blow precise, each step calculated. Elion twisted, parried, sidestepped, and countered. Greg ducked low, slashing with quick, punishing angles.

Then Greg's sword ignited with a radiant glow. The edge shimmered blue—the telltale sign of a Ki-infused Aura Blade.

The Cain's eyes widened. "Elion! Don't copy that! You don't have any Ki in your body—if you try to mimic it, the backlash will rip you apart!"

Elion hesitated for a fraction of a second.

It was all Greg needed.

He dashed in, his sword cutting through the air with a screech. The blade slashed across Elion's chest—shhk!—followed by a brutal left hook to the ribs. Elion stumbled back, blood dripping from his wounds. He dropped to one knee, his sword planted in the ground to keep from collapsing.

Greg stared down at him, breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just want to live."

Elion looked up. His fingers twitched. His eyes blazed—not with fear, but fury.

"Bullshit," Elion thought. "There's no remorse in your eyes. Just selfishness."

Then he remembered.

Cain's skill—from the fifth floor. Oblivion Ray. A devastating lance of flame that obliterated everything in its path.

"I don't have magic," Elion thought. "But I have mana. It's incompatible, but… it's all I've got."

He gritted his teeth and rose to his feet.

Before Greg could react, Elion lunged—his blade flashing.

Slash!

Greg reeled back, a cut opening on his side.

Elion immediately dashed away, creating distance between them.

He whispered, "Copy."

[Skill "Oblivion Ray" has been stored in Crimson Archive.]

[Crimson Archive: 2/10 skills.]

"What the eyes witness, the soul remembers."

Elion raised his hand toward the sky. Mana surged in his core, wild and chaotic, as if trying to reject the spell. But he forced it, even though bloods dripping to his eyes, nose, and ears.

His chest tightening from the skill, he doesn't have enough mana, but he's forcing his body, veins bulging to his neck, arms, head.

A seal glowed in the air. Then…

FWOOOSH!

A flaming spear of divine fire shot from above—piercing straight through Greg's chest.

BOOM!

Flames roared. Greg screamed as the searing lance punched into him, tearing through armor and bone.

The crowd outside the barrier gasped. Even Cain, the originator of the technique, stepped back in shock.

"That's… that's my spell," he muttered. "He perfectly copied it."

For a moment, Greg writhed in agony, fire enveloping him.

"I give up!" he screamed. "I GIVE UP!"

[Hero "Greg" has surrendered. The winner: Hero "Elion."]

The barrier shimmered, then shattered like glass. The healing aura of the lobby instantly resumed, washing over them. Flames faded. Wounds began to close.

Elion collapsed to one knee, panting, drenched in sweat and blood.

"Inside that barrier," he muttered, "the lobby's healing… was disabled…"

He looked up. Across from him, Greg lay unconscious—still breathing, but broken.

Cain walked forward, staring at Elion with wide eyes.

"You really are terrifying," he said softly. "You copy something that takes me years before I managed to perform it perfectly."

Cain's happy and at the same time he's terrified, he's happy because he met someone's capable of rivaling him, but he's terrified because he knows, that the man in front of him was a monster.

The other players whispered among themselves.

"Did you see that?"

"That wasn't just mimicry… he turned Greg's own strength against him."

"Elion's ability… is truly terrifying"

But Elion didn't respond. He looked down at his hands, still trembling from overexertion.

"I didn't want to fight you," he whispered to no one in particular. "But you left me no choice."

The fairy fluttered beside him. Her expression was conflicted—equal parts relief and sorrow.

"Surviving here…" she murmured, "It always costs something."