Was it an illusion? A strange joke created by his own power? The corpses staining the flowers red were none other than Nova himself.

  They were like clones replicating moments of his death during the Danger Omens: the first had its torso destroyed, representing his death against the Sand Octopus. The three nearby were masses of crushed flesh, recalling the early deaths against the serpent. There was also a corpse impaled by a branch, and another with a gunshot wound to the head.

  One of the closest was decapitated—beside it—there was another touching his foot—deep wounds gaped across its abdomen. Its yellow eyes were dilated—it was dead, just like the others.

  Disturbed by the sight, he crouched down, bringing his fingers closer to one of the corpses and touching its hair. His eyes widened in shock when he realized the body was warm—a recent death.

  “Why? What is this?” he wondered.

  Throughout his life, he had known people with ridiculous powers, Viktor being one of them. Although this didn’t surpass the absurdity of his uncle’s mysterious ability, it was still unprecedented.

  He fell to his knees—then looked at his abdomen. Both he and the corpse shared the same bleeding wounds.

  “I don’t understand…”

  He clutched his head in pain. A dull ache pulsed inside his brain, hammering against his skull. In an instant, the pain became unbearable.

  ‘Damn it! Something’s wrong with me! I can’t control it! My eyes—!’

  His vision pierced through what was happening “outside” his mind. His body staggered, blood dripping onto the ground. Even though he was dying, his body advanced toward Manto, wrapped in the intense aura of Anticipation like a cloak.

  He took a step—mysterious blue flower petals swirled around him. At the same time, inside his mind, Nova grabbed his head with both hands. He pressed his forehead against the ground as the agonizing pain intensified.

  His body raised the sword high, its expressionless face terrifying the aliens in the stands. Mina, however, looked somewhat relieved, as if she already understood the Emotional Spectrum of humans from Terra.

  Manto growled and didn’t hesitate to attack. He leapt forward, raising his claws to stab—but Nova’s body dodged swiftly with a smooth step to the right.

  Still holding the sword high, Nova struck downward. Manto snarled, raising his hand to block the blade. The edge slammed into his skin, carving a deep gash that scraped bone and sprayed dark purple blood.

  “Damn stupid ape. Were you hiding your Sephiroth control?!” Manto shouted, crushing the sword blade in his hand.

  Crush! The metal shattered, snapping the sword in two.

  Above the Arena, the announcer froze in shock—then burst into excitement, raising his fist high.

  “No way! Nova Asmodai can use Sephiroth! This is absolutely incredible!” he shouted, exaggerating his voice. “He’s human, after all! He’s here to surprise us!”

  The stands erupted in euphoric screams. Manto clicked his teeth. Irritated, he stepped back, clenching his hand to stop the bleeding. He prepared to launch another attack.

  By then, something strange was happening to Nova’s body.

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  Golden veins spread from his left eye across his skin, like cracks tearing through the Arena floor, staining his face with droplets of golden blood.

  ‘The corruption! It’s tearing my body apart!’ Nova groaned, trying to activate his Spectrum of Serenity. ‘I have to stop! At this rate, I’ll become an Aberration!’

  No matter how hard he tried, his golden aura fizzled out with violent electrical sparks. Flower petals swirled around him every time he attempted it, and the corpses near his feet reflected the scene in their lifeless eyes.

  Manto attacked again—this time with everything he had—but Nova barely dodged. The claws grazed his chest, leaving a shallow, bleeding wound.

  From within the flower field, submerged in pain, his eyes could now see his opponent’s future movements layered over the present—a skill he had never possessed before, forcibly awakened by the Spectrum’s Loss of Control.

  Energy corruption spread throughout his body, both within his mind and outside it, opening glowing fissures like molten magma.

  “I have to stop! Now! Stop!”

  Choking, Nova’s mind drifted within the fight, merging with his body. Still forcing his Spectrum to activate, the golden aura began suffocating the orange aura of Anticipation.

  “Ahhhhhh!” he screamed with all his strength. His eyes shone intensely.

  Forcing every ounce of energy from his body, his aura exploded outward, expanding like murderous flames and engulfing the flower field—burning it instantly. The petals crackled, and the corpses were consumed by searing light.

  In the Arena, however, Manto didn’t stop. He attacked again and again, desperate. Though Nova managed to dodge, he was slow and badly wounded. Gradually, cuts covered his body, draining the little blood he had left.

  The crowd fell silent, holding its breath. With Manto’s final attack, the winner had already been decided. It was a devastating charge that sent Nova flying into one of the platforms.

  Crash! The concrete groaned and shattered. He slammed face-first into the ground once more. This time, he didn’t move. His burning flame-like aura slowly faded until it vanished completely.

  “A powerful strike! Manto is a formidable beast!” the announcer shouted. “It seems Nova Asmodai was unable to match a Lycan Elite warrior!”

  Clicking his tongue, annoyed by the announcer’s idiotic remarks, Manto breathed heavily. Gritting his teeth in pain, he placed his hands on the ground and charged on all fours toward Nova. His sharp fangs were ready to finish it.

  ‘It hurts…’ Nova thought, opening his lone eye.

  Everything was blurry, red, and unbearably painful—but amid the suffering, he found just enough will to stand once more. He was weak, yet he still felt the foolish urge to throw himself back into the fight. His heart pounded violently, but his Spectrum was gone.

  Confused, he dropped to one knee to stand more steadily. He looked down—blue petals lay beneath his feet.

  ‘That’s strange…’

  The emotions surrounding him felt unfamiliar.

  ‘There’s definitely something wrong with me.’

  He lifted his head—and there it was. Before he could react, Manto appeared above him, slamming him back to the ground. His fanged snout lunged in to bite, but Nova—

  ‘You…’

  Placing his knee on Manto’s chest to keep his face from being torn apart, Nova frowned. “Monster…” he whispered.

  The Lycan laughed.

  “Monster? Me? You should get to know your own species better, Asmodai.”

  ‘Yeah. As if I don’t already…’

  There was a bitter irony behind those thoughts. Maybe it was because he felt so strange. He had almost lost control. Somehow, he’d come back—but it was as if his body no longer obeyed him. He hadn’t consciously placed his knee there knowing he’d die otherwise—his body had moved on instinct alone.

  ‘Something in me changed.’

  A bitter smile returned to his face.

  “I know them well enough to know…” he said, bleeding out, his eye igniting in a burning golden-orange glow, “that we’re terribly stubborn.”

  Manto’s eyes widened in terror. His instincts screamed at him to run—but it was too late.

  Reaching swiftly for his boot, Nova pulled out the knife he had chosen before the armory door closed. With a weak—but clean—motion, he slit Manto’s throat.