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Aryan narrowed his eyes. His opponent was strong—fast, skilled, and armed with a weapon that could counter his ice. But strength alone wasn't enough to stop him.
The manager spun his spear, the water around him rising like a serpent. "I'll admit, you're better than most who come here. But that doesn't change the fact that—"
He didn't get to finish. Aryan moved.
In a blink, he closed the distance, his sword slashing toward the man's throat. The manager barely had time to react, raising his spear to block, but Aryan had anticipated it. The moment their weapons clashed, he twisted his wrist, redirecting the force. His blade scraped along the spear's shaft, breaking through the man's defense and slicing into his shoulder.
Blood splattered across the wet floor.
The manager gritted his teeth, staggering back, his hand clutching the wound. "Tch... damn it." He lifted his palm—water surged from the ground, wrapping around his injury, sealing it shut. The wound closed instantly.
Aryan watched, unimpressed. So he can heal with water. That doesn't matter.
Without hesitation, the manager retaliated. He thrust his spear forward, sending a concentrated jet of water at Aryan with enough force to punch through steel. Aryan sidestepped, the attack barely missing him, the air slicing apart where he had just stood.
He dashed forward again, faster this time. The manager swung his spear in a wide arc, but Aryan ducked, sliding beneath the attack, his sword flashing. A deep gash opened across the man's leg, severing muscle.
The manager roared in pain, dropping to one knee. But before he could react, Aryan grabbed his face. His hand, colder than death itself, clamped down over the man's mouth.
Frost spread instantly.
The manager's body convulsed as ice crawled over his skin, freezing his limbs solid. He struggled, his eyes wide with terror, but Aryan's grip was unyielding. He could hear the muffled screams as the cold seeped into the man's flesh, his healing factor unable to keep up.
"Ice may be brittle," Aryan said, his voice calm, almost indifferent, "but it never dies. It waits. And when the time is right... it consumes everything."
With a final push, he tightened his grip—ice exploded outward, completely encasing the manager in a thick crystal of frozen death. His last expression—fear, agony—was preserved in the frost, his body forever trapped inside.
Aryan let go, stepping back. The room was silent. The once-lively club was now a frozen graveyard. Corpses littered the floor, some shattered, others preserved in ice. Blood stained the frozen ground like a macabre work of art.
He exhaled, the cold misting around him.
The fight was over.
Without a second glance, Aryan turned, his cloak billowing behind him as he walked toward the exit. He had come here for a reason. And now that reason was buried beneath ice and death.
He disappeared into the shadows, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.
[SYSTEM]
Lvl 10 Power achieved,Does host want to claim it .
Hey System what is this ,
Host can get the power of the one who he fights but the host has to kill the person .
System , claim it.
Aryan stood in the center of the club's ruined office, his cold blue eyes glowing with new intensity. The manager's lifeless body lay sprawled on the floor, its blood freezing over in jagged crystalline patterns. As Aryan clenched his fist, a dark mist swirled around him—a manifestation of the manager's stolen power now flowing through his veins.
He flexed his fingers, feeling an unfamiliar energy crackle along his skin. It was different from his ice powers—this was something deeper, more insidious. Shadows coiled at his feet, responding to his will. With a mere thought, the darkness twisted and lashed out like a living entity, slicing through a nearby desk, reducing it to splinters.
"So this is what he was hiding…" Aryan murmured, his voice laced with intrigue.
He turned to the shattered mirror hanging on the wall, his reflection distorting within the flickering shadows. A smirk played on his lips. This new power didn't just control darkness—it felt like it could manipulate minds, cloud perception, or even warp reality in subtle ways. No wonder the manager had been such a feared figure in the underworld.
Aryan took a step forward, letting the power seep into his movements. The world around him seemed to slow, as if time itself bent to his presence. The club members, still frozen in terror outside the office, had no idea what had just been unleashed.
He stepped into the main hall, his presence radiating authority. The remaining fighters in the club tensed at the sight of him. They had all witnessed the power struggle, and now Aryan stood as the undisputed ruler of the territory.
A smirk tugged at his lips. "Let's test how far this can go."
With a flick of his wrist, tendrils of darkness shot forward, wrapping around the legs of a bouncer who had been eyeing him with hostility. The man gasped as his body was yanked off the ground, suspended midair. Aryan narrowed his eyes, and a sudden chill spread through the darkness, freezing the bouncer solid before shattering him into nothing but shards of ice and shadow.
The club fell into absolute silence.
Aryan turned to the rest of the crowd. "Anyone else want to test me?"
No one dared to move.
He nodded in satisfaction. With the manager's power now his, he had taken control of more than just the club—he had taken control of fear itself. And he intended to use it to its full potential.
I've incorporated Aryan booming the club in ice, encasing everything in a crystalline prison. Let me know if you want any further refinements.
[ Its just like shadow power manager can't use his full power for some reason]
[And now the main reason why he targeting the club is they are belonged to Jack Truedream family ]
Next Day,
The travel to red zone took longer than to the green zone on their map. It was located quite a while away from the Shelter, but the area it covered itself was fairly large as well. It would take 2 hours to travel and 2 hours to go back.
With breaks, it meant they roughly had around 6 hours of time to gain crystals. After all, their abilities weren't unlimited. Eventually, the body would use up the MC cells they had, and they needed a period for them to recover back.
When leaving in the morning, it looked like their group wasn't the only one heading for the Red zone. There was a total of four other groups altogether.
"That's our competition," Erin said, looking towards one of the groups who walked in front.
"Which one?" Layla asked.
"You see the boy at the front with the Red hair, it's the trait of the Redshield family. All Originals who learn their magic acquire the ability of fire."
You mean he's from one of the big four. I didn't realise there was someone in our school like that." Layla replied.
"Although he isn't anyone special from the family, he is still from one of the big four and the numbers on yesterday's scoreboard proved it."
"The ability of fire, huh?" Vorden looked at the red-haired student for some time trying to think up of an idea.
But the one that interested Quinn wasn't the fire user. Instead, it was Logan who was also apart of one of the groups heading to the red zone.
While the rest of Logan's teammates were walking through the sand. Logan was sitting on top of a strange contraption.
It seemed like a moving chair. A personal device that he had built for himself. The legs moved like that off a Dog, while the top half was just a normal chair. Inside the chair, he was sitting with his eyes closed, sleeping peacefully.
'I wonder what his ability really is?' Quinn thought. It had to be impressive to be able to get the second-highest score. Throughout the whole time to two of them were together, Quinn still hadn't figured it out.
Aryan , brother don't interfere in others identify. One's intelligent person said curiosity kills a man .