World Awakening: The Legendary Player-Chapter 88: Mission Complete

When he vanished.

It wasn’t a trick of speed. One moment, he was there, leaning on his black pipe. The next, he was gone. Fena’s eyes, which had been full of disdain, narrowed. She felt a whisper of displaced air behind her.

She didn’t turn. A thick, thorny root, as wide as her arm, erupted from the ground right where she stood, coiling around her body like a protective serpent.

BAM!

The pipe slammed into the root with a heavy, dull thud. The impact sent splinters of wood flying, but the root held firm.

He reappeared a few feet away, the pipe resting on his shoulder. "So, you do know how to do more than just talk," he said, his grin wide.

Her gaze was cold. The root receded back into the earth without a sound. "A crude ambush. Predictable."

"Yeah, well, it’s a start," he replied.

He didn’t wait for her to lecture him again. He charged, but this time it was different. He didn’t run in a straight line. He used Shadow Glide, his body moving in a low, fluid rush. The hard-packed earth of the Proving Ground seemed to have no friction under his boots. He was a dark blur, weaving from side to side.

"He’s faster now," Jor muttered from the sidelines, clutching his broken ribs.

"This is nothing," Liesa scoffed, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the fight. The way the human moved... it wasn’t clumsy anymore.

He swung the pipe in a wide, horizontal arc aimed at Fena’s legs. At the same time, he stomped his foot on the ground. A cloud of dirt and dust billowed up, obscuring her vision.

’A simple trick, but it might work.’

It didn’t.

Fena didn’t even seem to look. She simply stamped her own foot. The ground in front of her rippled. A solid wall of packed earth, three feet high, shot up from the ground, intercepting his attack.

The pipe hit the wall with a deafening boom. The earthen barrier cracked and crumbled, but it absorbed the full force of the blow.

Through the dust, he saw her hand move. The ground beneath his feet turned soft, muddy. His forward momentum became a clumsy slide, his feet sinking into the suddenly swampy earth.

’She’s controlling the damn ground?’

She was on him in an instant. Her movement was not a rush; it was a glide. She appeared before him, her palm striking out not at his head or chest, but at the pipe he was still holding.

It was a light tap, but it was infused with her mana. The force traveled up the pipe and into his hands, a sharp, numbing shock that felt like being hit with a taser. His fingers went numb and he lost his grip. The pipe flew from his hands, end over end, before landing in the mud a dozen feet away.

She took a step back, her hands once again clasped behind her. "You are not fighting me, child. You are fighting the forest. It is a battle you have already lost."

He just stared at his empty hands, then at her. The crowd of elves started laughing again, their confidence returning.

"He lost his weapon!"

"Now she will finish him!"

Serian watched, her heart pounding. "He’s being completely outclassed," she whispered.

Mela nodded, her face grim. "My mother is not even trying. She is teaching him."

Nox ignored the noise. He ignored his numb hands. He just looked at Fena. A low laugh rumbled in his chest.

"You think that was my only weapon?"

He activated Primal Void. The dark, smoky energy poured from his lips again as he crouched low. He slammed his fists into the muddy ground.

The ground around him exploded.

He used the raw, physical power of his new strength, sending a shockwave through the mud. Chunks of dirt and rocks flew everywhere, a messy, chaotic explosion.

Fena shielded her face with an arm as mud splattered against her. For the first time, a flicker of annoyance crossed her features.

He used the chaos. He charged through the shower of dirt, his body a low, powerful projectile. He wasn’t aiming for her. He was aiming for the trees.

With a roar, he shoulder-checked one of the massive, scarred trees at the edge of the clearing.

CRACK!

The tree, which had stood for centuries, groaned and splintered. It wasn’t enough to knock it down, but a huge, thick branch was torn loose and came crashing to the ground.

"He’s destroying the Proving Ground!" an elf shouted in alarm.

Without hesitating, he heaved the massive branch up. It was as long as he was tall and thick as his waist, but in his Primal Void state, he lifted it like it was a baseball bat.

"You want to fight using the forest?" he yelled, his voice a raw-throated growl. "Fine! I’ll just break it!"

He swung the tree branch like a club. It was a crude, clumsy attack, but the sheer size and weight of it was terrifying. It scythed through the air, aimed right where Fena was standing.

She sighed, a sound of pure disappointment.

She didn’t move back. She just raised one hand.

The massive branch stopped dead, an inch from her palm, held in place by an invisible wall of force.

Nox strained, his muscles burning as he tried to push it forward, but it wouldn’t budge. It was like trying to push a mountain.

"Brute force is the tool of the desperate," she said, her voice calm. She closed her hand into a fist.

The branch in his hands imploded. It didn’t just break; it disintegrated into a cloud of sawdust and splinters that rained down around him.

He was left standing there, his arms outstretched, holding nothing.

’welp’ he thought, the adrenaline-fueled rage finally starting to fade. ’That’s it. I’ve got nothing left.’ He had tried speed, tricks, and raw power. None of it had worked. None of it had even come close.

Fena decided the lesson was over.

She moved. Her hand chopped down, a simple, elegant motion. It hit the side of his neck, right on the pressure point.

His vision went white. The strength left his body in an instant, and his Primal Void skill deactivated. His legs gave out from under him. He was falling, the world going dark around the edges. He was completely out.

Fena watched him fall, her expression unchanging. She had used just enough force to render him unconscious. The lesson was complete. She moved to catch him, to prevent the boy from injuring himself further in the fall.

But as her hands reached for him, his eyes, which had been closed, snapped open.

They weren’t his eyes. They were glowing pits of cold, abyssal light. It wasn’t a conscious thought. It was his skill, Will of the Abyss, refusing to surrender. It was the last, desperate twitch of a cornered animal.

His body, which was limp and falling, spasmed. He launched himself upward in a clumsy, reflexive leap.

It wasn’t an attack. It was just a reaction.

His knuckles, from his still-clenched fist, brushed against her chin. It was a faint, feather-light touch. A graze.

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Then the light in his eyes died. His body went completely slack, and he collapsed to the ground in a boneless heap, finally and truly unconscious.

Silence.

The entire Proving Ground was silent. The elves, who had been ready to cheer, just stared.

Fena stood frozen in place. Her hand slowly, almost hesitantly, rose to her chin. Her fingers traced the spot where his knuckles had touched her.

She looked down at the unconscious boy on the ground. Her face was a mask of pure, absolute shock. He had lost. He had been utterly, completely, and educationaly defeated.

And yet... he had won.

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