NOVEL WEB Chapter 24: End of the Training Arc.
Azvoid closed his eyes, stepping into his mental space—a vast, ethereal realm of swirling black and violet energy. Here, he had full control, but today, control wasn't what he wanted. He needed chaos. He needed intensity.
Noctis loomed over him, his enormous, sleek form blending into the surrounding void. "You're ready to refine Phantom Reflex, then?"
Azvoid rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "Yeah. Hit me."
Noctis let out a low chuckle before vanishing into the darkness. A second later—
BOOM!
A clawed shadow shot from the void at breakneck speed, aiming for Azvoid's throat. His instincts screamed. His body reacted. Phantom Reflex ignited.
Azvoid twisted at an impossible angle, his body flowing like water, narrowly avoiding the strike. But Noctis wasn't done. More attacks erupted from the void—claws, tendrils, bursts of condensed darkness. It was like fighting a storm given form.
His heart pounded, his body moving faster than thought, guided purely by instinct. Left, right, duck—his movements blurred, the world slowing as Phantom Reflex took over. He dodged with eerie precision, his body phasing past death by a hair's breadth.
But then—
CRACK!
A tendril struck his side, sending him tumbling. Pain flared through his ribs. He skidded to a halt, coughing, but a grin tugged at his lips. "Damn…this talent is insane."
Noctis materialized, observing him with amusement. "It is, but your body is still adapting. Reflex alone won't save you if you lack the strength to counter."
Azvoid got up, wiping blood from his lip. "Then let's go again."
And so they did. Again. And again. Each round pushed him harder, faster, until his reflexes weren't just instinct—they were absolute.
---
Meanwhile, at the Global Cosmic Alliance Headquarters…
A grand, towering chamber stretched into the sky, its ceiling a masterpiece of swirling cosmic patterns. At the center, seated at a massive circular table, were the supreme leaders of the Global Cosmic Alliance—figures who dictated the fate of countless worlds.
"As discussed in the previous meeting new talents have risen," a stern, silver-haired man mused, his piercing emerald eyes scanning a floating display of names. This was High Chancellor Voren, one of the most powerful figures in the alliance.
A muscular woman with sharp crimson eyes—General Rhaelis—grunted. "Indeed. Some of these brats might actually be worth something. The upcoming Supreme Competition should weed out the weaklings."
"Perhaps." A third voice, melodic yet deadly, came from a woman cloaked in obsidian robes—Mistress Saphir, the Shadow Strategist. "But are we certain none of them pose a threat to our control?"
Voren smirked. "That is why we are organizing this event—to find the ones who will serve us…and eliminate those who won't."
The table hummed as new names appeared on the floating display, glowing with celestial energy. Among them were prodigies from across the universe—heirs to noble families, warriors with godlike potential, and monstrous geniuses.
But one name was absent.
Azvoid Larkson.
Overshadowed. Unmentioned.
And yet, unbeknownst to them, the true anomaly, the greatest outlier, was the very name they had overlooked.
The stage was being set. The players were gathering. And soon, fate would make its move.....