The Weapon Genius: Anything I Hold Can Kill

The wheel clicked once.

Then again.

[Selected Combatant: Echo]

The name flared across the sky-bound screen in white.

Jin exhaled sharply, his fingers briefly tightening on the edge of his glass cell. Yujin leaned closer beside him.

"That's him, right?" she said.

Jin nodded once. "Yeah. That's Echo."

There was no time for relief.

The wheel clicked again.

[Opponent: Nadara]

A low pulse moved through the arena as the lights shifted. Two new platforms slid open, far apart—each figure rising slowly into place.

Echo appeared first. His posture was loose, but his presence wasn't. There was a sharpness in his eyes, a rhythm already forming in the way he tapped one hand against his wrist like a metronome.

Opposite him, Nadara stood tall and composed. A lean woman wrapped in pale armor that shimmered like volcanic glass. Her expression was calm—unreadable—but her stance spoke of confidence. She raised one hand to the collar of her armor and touched a glowing disc etched with concentric rings.

Then she smiled.

The system flared.

[Trial Commence.]

The arena blurred into motion.

Echo didn't wait.

No dramatic pause. No sizing up. Just movement.

He vanished from his platform with a crack of air, sound bursting like a whip as his form blurred forward—straight toward her, a silver disc already unfolding across his palm like an expanding ripple.

Nadara's eyes tracked him without alarm. She didn't move until the last second.

Then her feet flared red—literally. The ground beneath her shimmered with a sudden spike of heat. Steam hissed from the air itself, and a ring of scarlet pressure expanded outward.

Echo caught the shift too late.

He shifted angles mid-dash, trying to skim the field instead of piercing it—but the temperature had already spiked. His boots skidded over the molten edge of her radius. A sizzle of scorched leather, the sound of skin blistering underneath.

Still—he pushed in.

One beat.

Two.

Then—he twisted his wrist and launched his disc in a slicing arc.

Nadara raised her arm—projecting a wall of compressed heat. The disc skimmed it, redirected mid-spin and arced back to Echo.

He caught it without missing a beat, barely a flinch in his motion.

She didn't press forward. She widened her stance.

Her field began to grow.

The moment Echo's foot touched the arena floor, Nadara reacted.

No hesitation.

A sweep of her arm — wide and fluid — and the air shimmered into crimson. Not fire yet. Just pressure. The kind that warps the world a second before combustion.

Echo pivoted mid-step. One pulse from the disc at his wrist sent a shockwave spiraling beneath his heel, lifting him just enough to avoid the initial bloom.

Then came the real strike.

Nadara snapped her fingers — the shimmer ignited.

A wall of fire roared across the space where he'd been. Thick. Sudden. Bright enough to cast shadows across the walls of the glass box. Echo landed on the other side, smoke curling off his coat.

"Not bad," he muttered.

She didn't answer.

Didn't need to.

Nadara raised both hands now. Her field expanded. Not just around her, but outward — swirling, blooming, drawing heat from nowhere. The air between them rippled like sunstroke on asphalt.

Echo's eyes narrowed.

There it was — her terrain.

He didn't hesitate. Sound burst from his heels again — a shotgun pop of vibration that launched him forward. A blur. A streak. He ducked low, slicing through the heatline, the edges of his figure warping from speed.

She tracked him.

Not with her eyes.

With the shape of the air.

She slammed a palm down — a ripple exploded beneath her feet. All around her, sparks flared like mines going off mid-run. A perimeter built on pressure and pre-ignition, triggered by even the whisper of motion.

Too fast — and it'd burn him alive.

Too slow — and she'd pin him mid-step.

Echo leaned in.

And pushed.

He vanished into the heat shimmer, a sonic boom following a heartbeat behind.

Flames bloomed across the edges of the arena. His form blurred into afterimages — left, right, a feint above — all crashing in from different angles.

Nadara didn't flinch.

She spun once, arms wide, dragging her fire with her — a centrifugal burst of spiraling heat. Each step left a small ignition behind. The floor cracked under the strain. It wasn't just fire — it was pressure, compression, friction made into punishment.

Echo landed hard near the edge, one sleeve scorched. His eyes flicked to the field she'd cast.

Still growing.

This wasn't a fight for territory.

This was a fight for air.

She lifted one hand and jabbed it toward him.

A needle-thin bolt of compressed flame exploded from her palm — a lance of white-hot pressure that screamed toward him like a railgun blast.

Echo didn't dodge.

He exhaled.

His palm hit the disc on his other wrist — and sound bent.

Not outward. Inward.

A localized bubble of silence — not quiet, but inversion. The lance of flame twisted mid-flight, bent by vibration, and slammed into the floor beside him, carving a smoking trench.

The crowd behind the glass flinched.

Nadara arched an eyebrow. "Interesting."

Echo smiled back. "I get that a lot."

She didn't wait. She kicked off the floor and spun, throwing three more arcs of flame, each curving differently — angles that anticipated his speed, not just his direction.

Echo blurred again, body sliding along sound currents — but one caught his leg.

He hissed and skidded hard, smoke curling from his pants as scorched cloth peeled away.

He righted himself, arm trembling from the heat.

She was learning.

Adjusting.

And the field wasn't done expanding.

Every inch of the arena now shimmered in waves of ambient combustion. Even standing still began to burn.

She walked toward him now — not fast. Just steady.

"The more you move," she said quietly, "the faster it spreads."

Echo's chest rose.

Then fell.

Jin, watching from the glass, felt his jaw tense.

He's taking damage. He's being forced back.

But his eyes… they're calm.

Echo glanced down.

One hand pressed to his chest.

And there — the shift.

A pulse.

Low. Resonant.

His heartbeat.

Echo snapped his fingers once — and the disc on his wrist echoed the sound with unnatural clarity. A ripple bounced through the air — rhythmically. Like a metronome. No longer reacting to her pressure. Setting his own tempo.

"What is he doing?" Jisoo muttered.

Yujin's eyes flicked toward Jin. "Did he ever fight like that before?"

"No," Jin said softly. "He's improvising."

Inside the arena, Echo took one slow step forward — heel to toe — in time with the beat.

Nadara narrowed her gaze.

Another step.

Boom. Step. Boom.

Each motion came with a pulsing wave that distorted heatlines around his body. His field wasn't just dampening hers anymore — it was absorbing the shape of her control and pressing back.

Not with fire.

With force.

Pressure cracked beneath his feet, and each footfall turned into a percussion line. His stance widened. His movement slowed — but gained weight.

A martial rhythm.

Like he wasn't just dodging anymore.

He was dancing.

Nadara's eye twitched.

She extended her hand and clenched it into a fist.

The entire field flared white — ignition zones blooming like landmines. A full combustion ring — an inferno circle.

Echo stepped into it.

Didn't dodge.

Didn't flinch.

Boom—!

The fire burst — but Echo's heartbeat surged with it, and the field cracked.

He didn't stop.

He moved.

Straight through.

Jin stood frozen.

That idiot—

He's letting himself burn.

But then—

Echo's form bent.

Mid-step, he spun — a corkscrew motion with vibration rippling outward. His disc flashed with white-blue energy as he kicked off his back foot and launched toward Nadara.

Like a cannonball of sound.

A sonic vortex spiraling around him — ripping apart the fire in front of him as he carved a direct path through the heart of the blaze.

He didn't shout.

Didn't speak.

But the pulse from his body screamed like a war drum.

The moment Nadara raised her hands—

He was already inside her guard.

And he struck.

Palm-first. Right into her sternum.

A compressed wave of harmonic energy exploded point-blank — not just sound, but all the pressure she'd built, inverted and fed back into itself.

Nadara's body lifted off the ground and shot backward like she'd been launched by a cannon.

The flames sputtered.

Then collapsed.

Her field broke.

And the silence that followed was deafening.

Jin let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

The others around him stayed quiet.

Inside the arena, Echo straightened slowly.

Smoke rose from his shoulders. His shirt was scorched through at several points. Blood ran down his arm. His breathing was uneven.

But his stance never wavered.

He watched Nadara's body hit the far edge of the arena.

Still.

For a second.

Then—

She stirred.

Echo's eyes narrowed.

But she didn't rise.

She rolled onto her side — coughing. One hand to her ribs.

Alive. Conscious. But barely.

The crowd didn't speak.

The system didn't prompt.

Echo stood still, waiting.

Jin's fists tightened at his side.

Don't lower your guard.

Don't—

Nadara twitched.

Her hand began to glow.

"Echo!" Jin shouted.

Too late.

From her fallen form, Nadara snapped her fingers one last time.

A pulse — not forward. Not wide.

Straight back.

To her spine.

An ignition pillar exploded from beneath her, launching her body forward with insane speed — a human missile.

Toward Echo.

Echo reacted — but his stance had shifted. His balance imperfect from the force he'd just unleashed.

He twisted.

But not enough.

She slammed into him shoulder-first — not a clean hit, but enough.

Enough to knock him off-center.

They tumbled together.

And the moment she saw her opening—

She reached up.

And her palm moved to his throat.

Not fire this time.

Just heat. Pure, unrelenting pressure.

Echo's disc lit up.

A whine of sound flared out—

And both figures crashed to the ground in a blaze of fire and reverb.

The crowd behind the glass gasped.

The system's voice spoke.

[Combatant Status: Complete.]

[Judging outcome…]

Jin stepped forward, heart in his throat.

Yujin's claws flexed.

Inside the arena—

The smoke began to clear.

Two figures lay still.

Then—

One sat up.

One did not.

Echo rose, shoulders shaking.

Burned.

But alive.

Nadara lay motionless.

[Victory confirmed: Echo]

[Reward granted.]

Echo staggered to his feet.

Then collapsed to one knee.

His disc flickered weakly.

And the arena lights dimmed.