Ether: Pulse of the Forgotten

The hour was up.

The sun loomed heavy in the sky, bleeding warm gold over the open battlefield. No walls. No cover. Just a vast stretch of earth where fate would carve its verdict

The survivors stood at the edges, a loose, uneven ring of onlookers. Some barely breathing. Some whispering. All watching.

Darren's men clustered together, twenty strong, arms crossed, confidence chiseled into their stances. They weren't just here to witness—they were waiting to take the land the moment their leader crushed the one standing in their way.

Kai stood opposite him, loose, relaxed, shoulders rolled back as if he were out for an evening stroll. His hands remained tucked in his pockets, casual, unbothered. A stark contrast to Darren, who had begun bouncing on his heels, shaking out his arms—getting loose.

A system prompt blinked into existence.

⸻

Territory Duel Initiated

Defending Challenger: Kai [Level 30]

Attacking Challenger: Darren [Level 30]

Victory Condition: One party must surrender, be incapacitated, or die.

⸻

Kai skimmed the words, then lifted his gaze.

"You sure about this, Manager?" His voice carried through the stillness. "Y'know, all it takes is one bad review on Google to close a business for good."

Darren exhaled sharply through his nose. "Cute," he muttered, rolling his neck until it popped. "But you're the one getting shut down."

His foot hit the ground.

The duel began.

The First Exchange

Darren moved first.

Fast. Explosive. The instant the system locked them in combat, he was already closing the distance. No hesitation. No wasted steps.

His first punch came like a cannon shot—direct, efficient, a straight line of destruction aimed for Kai's head.

Kai tilted. Barely.

The punch sliced through empty air.

Darren's follow-up came instantly—a brutal hook to the ribs. Faster. Sharper.

Kai stepped into it.

Darren's smirk widened. Mistake.

His fist drove forward—

And passed through nothing.

For a fraction of a second, Kai was **there—**solid, real, within striking range. And then, in the same instant—he wasn't.

A ghost of movement. A shimmering distortion in space.

Darren's fist cut through empty air.

Phase Shift.

His eyes flickered with confusion—but only for an instant.

Then he spun, snapping an elbow backward, aiming for the gap where Kai had just reappeared.

But Kai was already moving.

A side step. A slip. He circled left, hands still tucked lazily in his pockets.

Darren adjusted. Fast. His eyes locked onto him, his stance re-centering.

Then he lunged again—a kick this time, low, sharp, aiming for Kai's knee.

Kai shifted. The strike grazed fabric, not flesh.

Darren's next movement was already in motion. A follow-up punch, a second kick—pressure, pure pressure, forcing Kai onto the defensive, cutting off his angles, trying to box him in.

Kai ducked, twisted, evaded.

Casual. Effortless.

Then, he struck back.

A single step forward.

One clean movement.

His palm lashed out—quick, precise. No wasted force, no overcommitment. Just a simple, targeted blow straight into Darren's guard.

Darren reacted, arms coming up to block—but it didn't matter.

The moment Rift Palm connected, ether warped around it, slipping past the defense like water through cracks.

It hit.

And then—it hit again.

The same impact. The same force. The exact same spot.

Darren stumbled back, eyes widening.

To him, to the crowd, it looked impossible.

A single strike. A single movement. Yet Darren reacted as if he'd been hit twice.

Murmurs rippled through the onlookers.

"What was that?"

"Did—did he hit him twice?"

"Looked like one strike to me…"

Kai shook out his hand. "Huh. Weird, right?" He grinned. "Feels like déjà vu.

Darren breathed hard. Not from exhaustion—he had the endurance to fight all day. This was something else.

Frustration. Confusion. The realization that things weren't going his way.

Kai saw it. Felt it. The way Darren's body tensed, the way his mind scrambled for an answer. Every adjustment, every attempt to switch tactics, had led to nothing.

Kai hadn't just been dodging. He had been playing.

And Darren? He had been losing.

The air shifted.

Darren's stance lowered. His mana flared.

Then, with a single, sharp motion, he drew his weapon.

A broad, serrated greatblade, its dark metal lined with deep, pulsing cracks of ember-red light. The moment it left its sheath, heat rolled off it in waves.

Kai's grin flickered.

Oh?

⸻

The crowd shifted. Whispers spread.

Darren's people smirked.

"Look at his face," one of them muttered. "That's the first time he's looked serious."

Kai glanced at the weapon. Then at Darren.

Then back at the weapon.

Then back at Darren.

He let out a long, slow whistle. "You really give off that 'small man, big sword' energy, huh? Makes sense now."

Darren's mana flared again, heat rippling around him. This wasn't some desperate move—he knew what he was doing.

"This sword burns through metal and rock alike" Darren said, "Let's see what this sword does to you."

Kai sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Alright, alright," he muttered. "Guess I should at least pretend to try."

Darren moved.

This time, it wasn't just speed.

It was pressure.

His mana surged, raw power bleeding into every step. The weight of his intent, the heat of the blade—it all collided forward in an unstoppable charge.

Kai barely had time to move before the first swing came down.

A massive, explosive arc, splitting through the air like a guillotine.

Kai side-stepped—

BOOM.

The blade slammed into the ground, scorching a deep trench into the dirt, flames licking at the edges where mana had burned through solid earth.

Kai whistled. "Wow. That would've been really impressive if it hit."

Darren ripped the cleaver free, pivoting instantly into a second strike.

No wasted movement. No overcommitting.

He was pushing Kai now.

A third swing, this time horizontal—Kai ducked, feeling the heat pass inches over his head.

Then a fourth—a wild, fast thrust.

Kai twisted, evading, but this time—it grazed his sleeve.

A single ember stuck to the fabric.

For the first time in the fight—Kai frowned.

His hand flicked, snuffing out the ember before it could spread. Noted.

Darren's grin returned. He saw that.

"Can't phase through flames, huh?" he taunted. "Let's see how long you last."

He pressed forward, the Emberfang Cleaver spinning in brutal, methodical strikes.

Kai danced around each one.

His movements were still fluid, still playful—but there was something sharper now. Less lazy.

More focused.

Then, he stepped forward.

Right into Darren's range.

Darren took the bait.

His blade came down in a vertical arc, fast, final. If it landed, it would carve Kai in two.

Phase Shift.

Darren's weapon passed through empty air.

And suddenly—

Kai was behind him.

Again.

This time, though—he didn't stop moving.

His palm snapped forward, ether gathering—

Rift Palm.

The attack landed. Darren staggered—

Then staggered again.

The same hit. Twice.

His footing faltered. For the first time.

Kai exhaled.

"Y'know," he said, shaking out his wrist. "That's a real nice sword. Might take it when we're done here."

Darren gritted his teeth.

Kai could see it—the cracks.

He had the weapon. The strength. The skills.

But none of it mattered.

Because Kai was untouchable.

And Darren?

Darren was running out of time.

⸻

Darren roared.

Mana exploded around him, the force of it kicking up dust, scattering loose dirt in all directions. The air warped with heat, the glow of his Emberfang Cleaver intensifying until the blade looked like molten rock.

This was it.

His final push.

Kai watched.

Expression unreadable. Hands still tucked in his pockets.

Unbothered. Unmoved. Unshaken.

Darren's body coiled like a spring. His stance locked, his muscles tensed—and then he vanished.

Not literally.

But to the untrained eye, to the gathered crowd, it might as well have been.

One moment he was standing still. The next—he was upon Kai.

A single, unstoppable downward cleave.

The force behind it? Colossal.

This wasn't just a sword swing—this was a battlefield execution.

And yet—

Kai tilted his head.

Just slightly.

And the blade missed.

It was so close—so impossibly close—that Kai could feel the heat licking at his skin, feel the mana distorting the air around him.

But it didn't touch him.

Darren's blade hit the ground like a meteor impact, scorching a deep trench into the battlefield. A wave of flame and raw heat erupted outward, sending dirt, smoke, and fire spiraling into the sky.

The watching survivors staggered back. Someone cursed. Another shielded their face from the heat.

Darren's people cheered.

Then the smoke cleared.

And Kai was still standing.

Right next to Darren.

Untouched.

He exhaled, shaking his head. "Man," he muttered, casually brushing some dust off his sleeve. "That was dramatic. You sure you didn't misspell your name when signing up for this? Feels like you should've been called 'Daring' instead of 'Darren.'"

Darren's eyes widened. His pupils shrank. The realization hit him all at once.

He'd lost.

Completely.

Kai saw it. The fear. The disbelief. The panic.

And that's when he struck.

A single step forward.

Faster than Darren could react. Faster than anyone in the crowd could process.

His palm snapped up—

Rift Palm.

Not on Darren's chest. Not on his ribs.

Right on his wrist.

The impact twisted through the mana flow in Darren's arm, disrupting his grip—the Emberfang Cleaver flew from his hands.

The massive blade flipped through the air, spinning end over end before slamming into the dirt twenty feet away.

Darren staggered. His hands, his arms—they felt like dead weight.

But Kai wasn't done.

A second strike followed.

Echo Strike activated.

It hit Darren's side. Then hit again.

His body jerked twice, the force doubling over him, his breath leaving his lungs in a harsh, pained wheeze.

His footing broke.

And that was the moment.

That was when Kai truly ended it.

His fingers curled.

No more holding back. No more dodging.

A single step. A single motion.

Shear Cutter.

A clean, violent arc of force.

Darren had no time to react.

The moment it hit, his entire body went weightless.

His feet left the ground. His back arched. His body twisted through the air—spinning once, twice, before crashing hard onto the dirt.

Silence.

The battlefield stood still.

The gathered survivors stared.

Darren's own men… said nothing.

Kai rolled his neck, stretching out his shoulders. "Welp," he said, exhaling. "That was fun. Five stars. Would fight again."

Darren groaned. He wasn't dead.

But he wasn't moving.

The system window blinked into existence.

⸻

Territory Duel Complete

Victor: Kai [Level 30]

Challenger Defeated: Darren [Level 30]

Defending Party Retains Leadership.

⸻

Kai sighed. "Well, Manager," he said, nudging Darren's leg with his boot. "That's gotta be tough for business."

Darren didn't respond.

His breath was still coming in ragged, stunned gasps.

Kai turned his gaze to Darren's men. "So," he said, stretching his arms above his head. "Who's next?"

Silence.

Then—

One of them took a step back.

Then another.

Then another.

The confidence was gone.

They had come here to take control. To win.

And now?

They were standing in front of someone untouchable.

Kai smirked.

"That's what I thought."