SSS-RANK: Super Extraction System-Chapter 13: [13] The Shadow Vs. Flame

Chapter 13: [13] The Shadow Vs. Flame
The arena was gone.
In its place was a swirling vortex of orange and gold. The heat hit the front row of the stands like a physical wall, forcing students to shield their faces. Damian didn’t just throw fire; he projected an inferno.
The scorch marks on the polished metal floor turned black instantly. The air rippled, distorting vision.
"He... he killed him," someone whispered in the stunned silence that followed the roar.
Elara gripped the railing, her knuckles white. "Leon!"
Damian stood panting in the center of the ring, smoke curling from his palms. He grinned, a manic, adrenaline-fueled expression. He had unleashed a B-Rank attack right off the bat. Nothing F-Rank could survive that.
"That’s what you get!" Damian shouted at the smoke. "That’s what happens when trash tries to....."
The smoke cleared.
Damian’s grin faltered.
The floor was charred. The metal was glowing red. But there was no body. No ash. No bones.
Nothing.
"What?" Damian blinked, scanning the area. "Where is he?"
The crowd murmured, confused.
Then, a voice drifted out, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"You missed."
Damian spun around. "Show yourself!"
He threw a fireball to his left, aiming at a flicker of movement. The flame exploded against the barrier, harmless.
Damian threw another to the right. Then behind him.
"Panic," Rostova murmured from the observation deck, her eyes narrowed. "He’s losing discipline."
Damian was creating light. Bright, intense flashes of light. And in the corners of that light, deep, jagged shadows stretched across the arena floor.
To the audience, the shadows were just empty darkness.
To Leon, they were highways.
He was inside the darkness. The Shadow Panther’s Blood Essence coursed through him, turning his senses up to eleven. He felt the texture of the shadow like velvet against his skin. He moved through it using Shadow Glide, his body becoming semi-intangible, sliding under the fire, around the blasts.
He popped out of the shadow cast by a camera drone, ten feet behind Damian.
Leon didn’t hesitate. He lunged.
He didn’t aim to kill. He aimed to dismantle.
His fist connected with Damian’s kidney. Hard.
"Gah!" Damian buckled, the air driven from his lungs. He spun, swinging a fist wreathed in flame, but he hit empty air.
Leon had already sunk back into the floor.
"Stop running!" Damian screamed, blasting the ground where Leon had just been. Molten metal sprayed outward.
Leon emerged again, this time from the shadow of Damian’s own left leg. He kicked the back of Damian’s knee. The B-Ranker collapsed to one knee, humiliation burning hotter than his fire.
Strike. Vanish. Strike. Vanish.
It was surgical. Leon was the scalpel; Damian was the patient thrashing on the table.
[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]
[ ANALYSIS: TARGET STAMINA DRAINING RAPIDLY ]
[ FEAR LEVEL: RISING ]
[ ADVISE: FINISH IT BEFORE HE GOES NUCLEAR ]
Leon felt the rush of the Panther essence. It wanted him to bite. To tear. To kill. It was intoxicating, this feeling of total dominance over someone who had tormented him for years.
No, Leon thought, suppressing the urge. Control. Always control.
Damian scrambled back to the center of the arena, clutching his side. His pristine armor was scuffed. His face was streaked with soot and sweat.
The crowd was dead silent. They weren’t watching a fight anymore. They were watching a ghost story.
"I’m going to end you," Damian wheezed. His eyes were wild. "I’m going to burn this whole place down!"
Damian slammed his palms together.
The air pressure in the arena dropped. A sphere of blue flame began to condense between his hands, growing larger, brighter.
"Nova Blast!" Elara screamed. "He’s going to blow the whole ring!"
It was an Area of Effect attack. It didn’t need to aim. It would fill every cubic inch of the arena with fire. There would be no shadows left to hide in.
Leon halted ten meters away. He materialized fully, stepping out of the gloom.
"He’s stopped moving!" a student shouted. "He’s trapped!"
Damian saw him. A cruel smile returned to his face. "Found you."
The sphere of fire expanded, roaring like a jet engine. It was seconds away from detonation.
Leon watched the fire grow. The light was blinding.
Too bright, Leon thought. Perfect.
[ SHADOW MANIFESTATION: ACTIVATING ]
[ COST: 50% CURRENT ENERGY ]
Leon didn’t run. He ran toward Damian.
"Die!" Damian shrieked. He thrust his hands forward, releasing the Nova.
A wall of blue fire swept outward, an unstoppable tide of destruction. It hit Leon head-on.
The crowd gasped. Rostova gripped the railing, her knuckles cracking.
The figure of Leon Vale was consumed by the fire. It stood there for a split second, silhouetted against the blue hell, before dissolving.
But it didn’t burn like flesh.
It dissolved like smoke.
"What?" Damian froze. The Nova dissipated, leaving the arena glowing with heat.
There was no body. Just a lingering wisp of black vapor where Leon had been standing.
"A... a decoy?" Kovacs, usually unshakeable, dropped his toothpick. "That’s impossible. Shadow Clones are High-B Rank abilities. An F-Rank can’t have enough density to..."
Damian stood alone in the center of the scorching ring, his chest heaving, his energy reserves bottomed out. He had put everything into that blast.
"Where..." Damian turned in a circle, terror dawning in his eyes. "Where are you?!"
He looked at the floor. The floodlights above were still on. And beneath Damian’s feet, his own shadow stretched out, black and sharp against the glowing metal.
The shadow moved.
It didn’t mimic Damian. It detached itself.
Leon rose from Damian’s own shadow, rising like a demon from a black pool directly behind him.
The audience saw it on the giant screens. A collective shiver went through the stadium.
Leon was right there. Breathing down his neck.
"Boo," Leon whispered.
Damian spun around, terror in his eyes, raising a weak, flickering hand.
Leon caught his wrist.
He didn’t use magic. He didn’t use a weapon. He twisted the wrist, stepped in, and drove his elbow into Damian’s stomach.
Damian gagged. His eyes rolled back.
Leon swept his leg, knocking Damian’s feet out from under him. The "hero" of Class 1 hit the metal floor with a sickening thud.
Leon didn’t stop. He pinned Damian, knee on his chest, right hand raised, fingers curled into a fist hovering an inch from Damian’s nose.
Shadows swirled around Leon’s arm, condensing, forming a jagged, vibrating gauntlet of pure darkness. It hummed with a menacing sound, like a swarm of hornets.
Silence.
Absolute, suffocating silence filled the arena.
Damian stared up at Leon. The fire was gone from his eyes. All that was left was fear. He looked small. He looked like a child who had realized the monsters under the bed were real.
"Do it," Damian whispered, tears mixing with the soot on his face. "Finish it."
Leon looked at Damian. He looked at the trembling lip, the fear.
But Leon looked up. He saw the faces in the crowd.
They weren’t cheering. They were terrified.
They were looking at him like he was the monster.
Leon let the shadows around his fist dissipate. The dark gauntlet evaporated into mist.
He stood up slowly, brushing the dust off his grey uniform.
"I’m done," Leon said.
He turned his back on Damian.
"You... you’re walking away?" Damian stammered, trying to prop himself up on his elbows. "You beat me! You’re supposed to..."
"I’m supposed to what?" Leon glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes were dark, devoid of the red glow now, but infinitely deep. "Beat you until you break? That’s what you would have done."
He looked toward the exit tunnel.
"I’m not you."
Leon walked toward the darkness of the tunnel. The referee, stunned, finally remembered his job.
"Winner... by incapacitation... Leon Vale!"
There was no applause. Just a low, confused murmur that rippled through the stands like a wave.
On the observation deck, Commander Rostova watched Leon disappear into the shadows.
"Commander," Kovacs said quietly beside her. "Did you see that? That last move. Rising from the opponent’s shadow. That’s..."
"Assassin tech," Rostova finished. Her face was grim. "Or something much, much older."
She looked at the empty arena floor where Damian sat weeping in humiliation.
"He won," Rostova said, her voice tight. "But he just painted a target on his back the size of the moon."
Leon walked through the tunnel, the adrenaline crashing. His hands started to shake. The Shadow Panther’s Blood Essence was wearing off, and the exhaustion hit him like a hammer.
He leaned against the cold concrete wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor.
[ QUEST COMPLETE: THE RIVAL’S FALL ]
[ REWARD RECEIVED: 200 EXP ]
[ LEVEL UP! ]
[ LEON VALE - LEVEL 2 ]
He didn’t care about the level up. He pulled his knees to his chest.
He had done it. He had won. He had proven he wasn’t weak.
But as he stared into the dark end of the tunnel, he felt a cold sensation on the back of his neck.
It felt like eyes.
Leon looked up. There was no one there. Just the empty hallway.
Leon shivered.
He had stepped out of the shadows to win the fight, but in doing so, he had stepped into a much larger, darker world.
And whatever was watching him... it is coming for him.