Oblivion's Throne-Chapter 98: Integration

Orion's breath steadied as the lingering heat in his muscles faded. He flexed his fingers, feeling a strange lightness in his limbs. Not weakness—something else.

He sat up, his usual stiffness after a fight wasn't there. Instead, his body felt... lighter.

The Pythia System's interface flickered in his vision.

「Trait Integration: Trilayered Bursting Musculature – COMPLETE」

Orion frowned. This wasn't just a simple strength enhancement—there was more to it than that.

He planted his palms on the ground, shifting to stand—

His body moved before he finished thinking.

His balance adjusted instantly, preventing him from toppling over, but it wasn't normal. He inhaled sharply.

He needed to test it.

Orion stretched out his arm, rotating his shoulder in slow circles. His joints moved without resistance—like they had been lubricated beyond human limits.

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Curious, he reached behind his back, testing his flexibility. His fingertips met far too easily.

He tried again—this time bending forward. His palms slapped the ground flat, no tension in his hamstrings. He leaned into a full split.

No resistance.

Orion's eyes widened.

This wasn't normal.

Bracing himself, he tensed his legs and jumped.

The world blurred.

His body launched upward, nearly slamming into the cavern ceiling. He twisted mid-air, panic surging through his veins, and barely managed to correct his landing, rolling into a crouch.

That wasn't unexpected since he knew that his muscles has been somehow optimized for short burst so that made sense.

Orion looked down at his arms—his muscles were denser. Not bulkier, but packed with power. Every movement carried a coiled energy, like a bowstring ready to snap forward at any moment.

He needed something more controlled.

Spotting a loose stone on the ground, Orion grabbed it and tossed it in the air. His eyes tracked its movement—

Too slow.

His hand moved before his brain processed the decision. He snatched the rock out of the air mid-spin, fingers clamping down with perfect timing.

Orion exhaled sharply. Hand-eye coordination. It wasn't just improved—it was borderline precognitive.

He threw the rock again, harder. This time, he twisted his body, lashing out with his other hand—his fingers snapped around the stone before it could leave his peripheral vision.

His breath hitched. Orion needed to test this. His gaze locked onto his Wraith, resting by the nearby wall. Taking a deep breath, he moved.

Orion's body had changed—and not in a singular, isolated way. Every facet of his physicality had been rewritten, optimized beyond anything he had ever known. It wasn't just raw power or speed; it was a complete overhaul of how he moved, reacted, and controlled his own body.

Strength. His muscles compressed and expanded with efficiency. Every motion carried an explosive potential, a stored force waiting to be unleashed in an instant. Yet, there was no bulkiness, no unnecessary mass—only pure, concentrated power.

Agility. His body adjusted mid-action without hesitation, transitions between movements happening so smoothly that it was almost unnatural. It wasn't just speed—his sense of control was absolute. He could change direction on a whim, twist, pivot, or stop with pinpoint accuracy.

Dexterity. His reflexes had been honed to an unnatural sharpness, bordering on the precognitive.

Range of Motion. He could bend, stretch, and twist in ways that should have been impossible—his joints moved with minimal to no tension, his muscles extended without strain. He had expected improvement, but this was something else entirely. He felt unrestrained, as if his body had been freed from the biological limitations of ordinary humans..

Orion reached for his Wraith, his fingers wrapping around the weapon's hilt with precision. The weight distribution—something he had spent month adapting to—felt different.

He swung the blade.

The motion was smoother than it should have been. His usual micro-corrections were absent—his body simply knew where the weapon was, how to position it, how to adjust the arc mid-swing.

A slow grin spread across his face.

He pivoted on his heel and executed a rapid three-strike combination, testing his reach. The speed startled him. His muscles didn't strain—they simply fired, the Wraith carving through the air with effortless precision. He stopped the last strike mid-motion, the tip of the Wraith hovering a millimeter from the cavern wall. His control had never been this sharp.

He needed to adjust before testing his changes.

A rustling noise echoed from deeper in the cavern. Orion snapped his head towards the noise, instincts sharpening as he turned toward the sound.

Then he saw it.

A Varkren.

It emerged from the shadows, low to the ground, its six amber eyes reflecting dim light. The predator's sleek, black hide blended into the darkness, broken only by the faint sheen of its chitinous plating.

It moved like liquid death—silent, methodical, with a coiled stillness that promised explosive speed.

Orion's grip on the Wraith tightened.

The Varkren tilted its head, studying him. Its jaws parted slightly, revealing overlapping fangs, each one curved like a hook. Its frontmost pair of forelimbs shifted, claws clicking against the stone floor.

It was gauging him, sizing him up.

Orion took a slow breath, steadying himself.

This was perfect.

The Varkren twitched. A barely perceptible shift in its stance.

It attacked.

A blur of motion—a single, lunging bound that crossed the entire cavern in an instant.

Orion's body reacted before his mind caught up. He sidestepped—faster than he had ever moved before. His feet barely scraped against the ground, momentum seamlessly redirecting into a counter-slash.

The Wraith's side blade whistled through the air—too fast for the Varkren to fully evade.

A gash opened across its flank, dark ichor splattering against the cavern wall.

The beast twisted mid-air, landing with unnatural grace. It didn't snarl. Didn't recoil in pain. It calmly adjusted.

Orion exhaled, heart pounding. His body felt weightless, primed for the next exchange.

The Varkren darted forward again.

The way its spine compressed before it lunged. The precise angle of its trajectory. The half-feint in its movement, designed to bait out a reaction.

A trap.

Orion didn't fall for it.

He didn't move until the last possible moment—then snapped into action, pivoting on his heel and delivering an upward diagonal cut.

The Wraith's blade met flesh.

The Varkren screeched—a horrid, high-pitched sound—as the weapon bit deep into its shoulder, nearly severing one of its forward limbs.

Orion followed through, fluid and relentless, using the momentum to spin into a second backhand strike—

—but the beast adapted.

It twisted at an impossible angle, tail snapping toward him like a whip of solid bone.

Too late to dodge.

Orion did the only thing he could.

He caught it.

His hand moved on instinct, snatching the Varkren's tail mid-swing. The sheer force should have dislocated his shoulder—but it didn't. His muscles absorbed the impact, reacting dynamically to distribute the force.

The Varkren panicked.

Orion saw the hesitation flash in its six burning eyes.

It had expected prey.

Instead, it had found something else.

Orion exhaled.

And he pulled.

With one explosive motion, he yanked the Varkren toward him—off-balancing the predator completely. It had spent its entire existence relying on superior agility, on overwhelming speed.

Now, it was caught.

Orion didn't hesitate.

He drove the Wraith's tip through its chest.

The beast twitched once, muscles spasming violently—then slumped, impaled against the cavern floor.

Orion stood over the corpse, heart hammering. His breath came slow and steady, his mind still adjusting to what had just happened.

But more than that—he had understood every moment of the fight. The movements. The calculations. The raw efficiency of his body's new capabilities.

Orion exhaled sharply, gripping his Wraith tighter.

Orion flexed his fingers, feeling the sheer precision in his movements. He let out a low chuckle, muttering, "So this is what I've been missing? No wonder the Dominion sees the baseline humans as nothing more than insects."