[Eliminate the enemy, or a penalty will be applied.]
"Oh…" A demonic grin twisted across Antares' face. "This body's got some power... let's see how much." he murmured.
In the blink of an eye, he was in front of the man. A front kick shot out—not fueled by raw strength, but precision. The impact struck the man's center of gravity, launching him backward. He flew a few meters before regaining his stance, landing with a skid that tore through the ground.
"Interesting," the man said, brushing dust off his suit. "You've got technique. But you're still just a lesser demon, judging by the stench. Your body can't handle even ten percent of your own fury."
Antares clenched his fists. He knew the bastard was right.
His burnt arm throbbed, muscles ached, bones creaked like glass under pressure.
But his eyes? Untouched. Unshaken. Cold.
"I don't need strength to beat you. Just time." He lunged again.
This time, the real fight began.
The man attacked with brutal force—fists like sledgehammers. Each strike cracked the air. The ground split with every missed blow. Antares weaved between them, slipping through by fractions of an inch, using the enemy's blind rage. His plan was obvious: make the bastard wear himself out. Study. Read.
"Too open when he rotates his torso."
"Right foot sinks every time before a strike. He's used to slower opponents."
"Telegraphs with his shoulder. Amateur."
But Issei's body... was a burden. Every dodge felt like a rib was ready to snap. Every step screamed through strained ligaments. The sweat wasn't from effort—it was from the quiet, suffocating pain of fighting against a body that wasn't yet his.
Still, Antares smiled.
"You don't know how to fight," he muttered after slipping past another punch. "You only know how to smash."
"Shut up!" the man roared, lunging to grab him with both hands.
Antares ducked, spun, and landed a sweeping kick to the opponent's leg base, making him stumble.
But the man recovered far too fast.
"Shit…" Antares stepped back—
And got hit.
A punch slammed into his side. The force screamed through his organs. He tasted blood in his mouth, copper and bitter. Even so, he twisted with the impact, using the momentum to launch a descending kick straight into the man's face.
Both crashed to the ground.
Antares got up, limping. His left arm hung limp, useless.
The man spat blood but grinned.
"You're going to break. That body will betray you."
Antares was breathing hard. His lung felt punctured. Every breath stabbed like a dagger. His ribs were screaming.
"But I'm winning."
Every second longer... was a second of data, of decoding. The thin line between survival and total erasure.
"I've faced dragons made of every damn element… divine lights that thought they were gods… and the blackest shadow the world's ever known…" he coughed blood. "You're just another idiot with too much muscle and not enough brain."
The man howled and burst forward at lightning speed, raising a fist to smash him into the earth.
Antares let the punch come.
But he tilted his body, turning just enough to redirect the impact's force with his right forearm. The ground beside him exploded. Debris flew. But the enemy's fist scraped by, missing its mark.
And that was all he needed.
Antares used the enemy's position—off-balance, all the weight in his punch—to climb his body in two steps, spin behind him, and land a precise elbow strike to the base of his neck.
CRACK.
The man fell to his knees, dazed. Antares landed behind him, panting. His legs trembled. His vision darkened.
'...Shit. The body's starting to collapse.'
[ALERT: Player's body has reached its functional limit. High-intensity fights will result in cardiac arrest.]
'It's not enough.' He gritted his teeth. The enemy was already rising again, furious.
"You want to play dirty?" the man growled. "Fine. Let me show you what happens to those who dare lay a hand on me."
And then, he raised his hand.
Dozens of spears appeared in the air. Identical to the one Antares had crushed earlier. Each pulsed with black mana, dense and corrupted. The sky trembled. The tips of the spears chimed like death bells.
They multiplied... one, two, ten... twenty.
Antares staggered a step back. His hands trembled. The pain was starting to blind him.
But his eyes... still cold. Still calculating. "Tch. He's been holding back until now…" The moment the thought left his mind, the spears rushed toward him, and he began dodging one by one.
'Stay awake...' Antares thought, even as his body was slowly giving out. His situation was growing more precarious with each passing second.
Blood spilled onto the ground, the spears crashed and exploded upon impact. His battered body still longed to fight, even though he could no longer stay on his feet.
He fought to remain upright.
He looked at the blood after dodging a spear that grazed the top of his shoulder. His white uniform was stained with red, covered in blood, and marked with cuts.
'So much blood…'
Antares' mind whispered as his eyes traced the scarlet stains on his body, on the ground, in the air. He smiled, not out of bravery... but out of irony.
"Why are you smiling, you worm?" the man growled, rising like a wall of hatred.
"Hahaha…" Antares laughed with difficulty, spitting some blood in the process. "It's just that… this blood… it's the same color as her hair."
His vision wavered, but the image of the redhead burned in his mind like an indestructible memory. His knees nearly gave out.
"What a joke," the enemy replied, irritated. He raised his hand, summoning an even larger spear, dense with evil energy, pulsing like a heart about to explode. "You're a threat. Small, but real. And threats… must be eliminated."
"Hahaha…" Antares laughed once more, his lungs in agony. "Yes… I'm a very big threat."
The spear descended like lightning.
But...
CRACK!
A crimson thunderclap sliced through the air.
A lightning bolt, pure magical destruction, tore across the sky like a divine scream. It struck the spear at the exact moment before impact. The black artifact disintegrated into ashes, reduced to nothing.
"Don't you dare touch him."
A feminine voice cut through the battlefield. Firm. Unyielding.
A woman passed by Antares, unhurried, as if she already knew nothing could stop her. Her hair, as red as hellfire, danced in the wind. Even from behind, Antares recognized her. How could he not? The woman that the system called his Master... Rias Gremory.
The Fallen Angel took a step back, hesitant. "Crimson hair... You must be from the Gremory House..."
"My name is Rias Gremory," she said with a calm smile, but each word carried pure threat. "How's it going, Mr. Fallen Angel? If you're trying to harm this boy... I won't hold back."
'Rias Gremory... she studies at my school,' thought Antares, his mind sinking into recent memories. 'The redhead beauty... Reduced to "boy," huh... I'll have to settle for that, for now.'
The enemy analyzed her in silence, then let out an arrogant chuckle. "So this boy belongs to you. That means this city is part of your territory. Huhu... Well, for today, I'll withdraw. But I recommend you take better care of your... servants. People like me can crush you during a simple morning stroll."
"Thank you for the advice," Rias said with a polite smile, but her eyes radiated murderous intent that would make any being tremble. "This city is under my watch. If you get in my way, I'll wipe out your kind."
"And I say the same to you, heir of the Gremory House. My name is Donaseek. I hope we don't meet again."
Without another word, the Fallen Angel spread his black wings and took flight. His gaze wavered between Rias and Antares for a moment. Then, he disappeared into the night sky like an unfulfilled curse.
Antares watched everything from his knees, panting.
'Shit... a few more seconds and I could've killed him...'
He clenched his fists in frustration. The defeat gnawed at him more than the wounds. He was relieved not to be dead, yes. But he wanted more than anything... to eliminate that bastard.
"Dammit..." he muttered, staggering. His vision started to blur, the world spinning as if it were about to collapse.
'This is really bad...' he thought, feeling an intense, throbbing pain in his head. When he put his hand to it, he felt the sticky heat of fresh blood.
"Well, you're almost passing out," Rias said in a calm tone, now approaching him. "That's definitely a mortal wound. No way around it. Hey, where is your home?"
But he could no longer hear anything. The sound around him distorted, as if the world had sunk into water.
His eyes closed. His body fell, powerless.
And then... Antares collapsed to the ground, unconscious.