Chapter 60: Trial by Numbers
The arena entrance felt different this time. As the suppression chains were unwrapped from Alex’s form alongside the other three prisoners, he felt his abilities surge back with familiar intensity. The moment the metal left his skin, Alex quickly accessed his status window:
**[STATUS WINDOW]**
**[Name: Kael Ashford (Alexander Chen)]**
**[Age: 19]**
**[Level: 2]**
**[Class: Adept]**
**[EXP: 1750/2000]**
**[Rank: ???]**
**[HP: 89/100]**
Alex’s lips curved into a cold smile. 1750 out of 2000 experience points. Just one more significant victory and he could finally advance to the next level.
The weeks of constant combat had refined his fire manipulation beyond simple brute force. He could now create precise flame lances for ranged combat, or concentrate the heat into his fists for devastating close quarters strikes. Fire had become both sword and bow, adapting to whatever the tactical situation demanded.
His fellow prisoners spread out around him as they entered the arena proper. The injured A ranked Shadeborn moved with careful precision despite its wounds, favoring its damaged arm but maintaining combat readiness. The hulking Chitinous Behemoth tested its armored limbs with predatory anticipation. The S ranked Shadeborn maintained that unsettling fluid grace that had caught Alex’s attention from the beginning.
Alex noticed something else as they entered: the crowd’s reaction to the Shadeborn prisoners was distinctly different from their response to him. Where his appearances drew excited anticipation, the sight of the translucent beings evoked something darker. Hissing sounds echoed from the stands, and several spectators made what looked like warding gestures.
The Arena Warden’s voice boomed across the pit: "Kresh-vel thurvani! Mori-zhel keth nakul-thuul vorthani zhel-korth!"
**[Translation: "Four warriors! Today you face the Trial of Cooperation! Survive together, or die alone!"]**
Alex felt his tactical instincts sharpen as the implications became clear. Not a death match between prisoners, but a coordinated survival challenge. Which meant whatever they’d be facing would require the combined efforts of an S rank, two A ranks, and himself to overcome.
The gates on the far side of the arena began to grind open, and what emerged made even Alex’s battle hardened nerves tighten with apprehension.
**[Devourer]**
**[Rank: SS Class Beast]**
**[Primary Ability: Essence Drain]**
**[Secondary Ability: Regeneration]**
The creature that entered was nightmare given form: a writhing mass of tentacles and teeth that stood three times Alex’s height. Its surface was covered in mouths that gnashed hungrily at empty air, black ichor dripping from serrated edges. Each tentacle ended in a different type of sensory organ or weapon: some bore clusters of eyes, others terminated in claws that gleamed like obsidian, still others leaked corrosive substances that ate through the arena sand.
Before Alex could fully process the threat, something happened that made him freeze mid assessment.
The S ranked Shadeborn’s translucent form began to shift and flow like liquid mercury. Its alien features melted away, its elongated proportions compacting and reshaping with disturbing precision. Within seconds, an exact duplicate of Alex stood beside him: same height, same build, same white hair that seemed to catch the arena’s harsh lighting.
But it was more than just physical mimicry. The duplicate raised its hands, and flames erupted from its palms with techniques Alex recognized as his own. The stance, the gesture, even the way the fire danced around its fingers—everything was perfectly replicated.
His duplicate glanced at him with those solid black eyes that marked it as definitely not human. When it spoke, the voice was his own but the words were in the harsh syllables of their captors: "Kresh-vel mekthari. Zhel-thuul nakul vorth."
The duplicate’s flames lashed out in a sweeping arc—a technique Alex had developed for crowd control when facing multiple opponents. But the execution was different. The fire moved with fluid grace, bending and weaving through the air in impossible spirals that created barriers of flame suspended in midair.
Alex watched with growing fascination as his duplicate demonstrated applications of fire manipulation he’d never considered. Instead of simple projectiles or barriers, the flames moved like living serpents, coiling around each other to create complex geometric patterns that somehow amplified their destructive potential.
But there was no time for extended observation. The Devourer had identified the four prisoners as threats and was moving with predatory intelligence that spoke of countless arena victories.
Six massive tentacles lashed out simultaneously, each targeting a different prisoner with surgical precision. The injured A ranked Shadeborn rolled desperately aside, its wounded arm hampering its movement. The creature’s feeding tentacle—lined with circular rows of teeth—snapped toward the injured prisoner with lightning speed.
Alex responded instinctively, launching a wall of fire between predator and prey. But he was too far away, and his flames wouldn’t reach in time.
The tentacle punched through the injured Shadeborn’s chest with a wet, tearing sound. The creature’s translucent form convulsed as rows of teeth began sawing through its torso, ichor spraying across the sand in dark arcs. Its scream—a sound like breaking crystal—cut through the arena’s roar.
The crowd erupted in bloodthirsty approval, their hissing growing louder as they watched one of the condemned prisoners being devoured alive.
"Mek-thuul!" the dying Shadeborn gasped, reaching toward its S ranked companion with a trembling hand. "Vorth-nakul zhel!"
But the feeding tentacle was already retracting, dragging the mortally wounded prisoner toward the creature’s central mass. More tentacles wrapped around the Shadeborn’s limbs, and Alex watched in horror as it was pulled apart with mechanical precision. Pieces of translucent flesh scattered across the arena floor.
The S ranked duplicate’s form flickered, its perfect mimicry wavering as something like grief crossed its stolen features.
The emotional impact seemed to drain the duplicate’s concentration. Its flames began losing cohesion, and Alex noticed the physical transformation starting to destabilize. The creature had limits—both in how long it could maintain the mimicry and how much essence it could dedicate to it.
The Devourer’s regeneration was already healing the minor wounds they’d inflicted, and now it was moving with renewed hunger, having tasted blood. Three more feeding tentacles oriented toward the remaining prisoners.
Alex made a tactical decision. Instead of trying to overpower the creature with raw flame, he began studying his duplicate’s techniques with clinical focus. Every gesture, every pattern of flame manipulation—his Adept Eyes catalogued each movement with scientific precision.
**[Combat technique observed: Flame Spiral Construction]**
**[Combat technique observed: Fire Serpent Guidance]**
**[Combat technique observed: Heat Barrier Weaving]**
When the duplicate’s form flickered again—the S ranked Shadeborn clearly reaching the limits of its transformation ability—Alex struck. He replicated one of the spiral flame constructs he’d observed, his version crude but functional. The fire redirected two attacking tentacles, sending them crashing into each other instead of their intended targets.
The Chitinous Behemoth contributed its acid sprays, creating caustic clouds that forced the creature to recoil. But even with coordination, they were losing ground. The beast was too massive, too well armored, and its regeneration was keeping pace with their attacks.
That’s when Alex noticed something crucial. Each time the duplicate’s advanced techniques struck the creature, the wounds took longer to heal. It wasn’t just about damage—it was about precision. The sophisticated flame patterns were disrupting the beast’s regenerative processes in ways his brute force attacks couldn’t match.
The S ranked Shadeborn’s transformation finally failed completely. Its duplicate form melted away, reverting to the original translucent appearance, but now visibly exhausted. Its black eyes met Alex’s, and it spoke in gasping syllables: "Thuul-kresh nakul. Mekthari zhel-vorth."
**[Translation: "Fire power yours. Must finish together."]**
Alex understood. The creature had shown him what was possible, but now it was up to him to apply those lessons. As the Devourer reared back for what looked like its ultimate attack—all tentacles converging while its central mass prepared to expel an essence draining cloud—Alex channeled everything he’d learned.
Fire spiraled around his hands as he attempted to weave the flames into the complex geometric pattern he’d observed. The result was imperfect, unrefined compared to his duplicate’s elegant precision, but it worked. The fire construct created a three dimensional maze that confused the creature’s targeting, forcing several tentacles to strike empty air.
When the creature’s essence draining cloud erupted, Alex was ready. He created a tunnel of superheated air that burned away the toxic vapor, while the Chitinous Behemoth provided covering fire and the exhausted Shadeborn somehow stabilized the space around them.
The final exchange came as Alex saw his opening. While the beast was distracted by the flame constructs still burning around its sensory organs, he poured everything he had left into one coordinated assault. The Chitinous Behemoth’s acid ate through weakened armor plating, the exhausted Shadeborn somehow destabilized the creature’s regeneration in a critical spot, and Alex struck with a penetrating lance of fire that bored through the compromised tissue.
The technique drained him completely. Pain flared through his essence channels as he pushed beyond his safe limits.
The Devourer’s death scream shook the arena walls, and black ichor sprayed across the sand as its massive form collapsed.
**[Enemy Defeated: Apex Devourer (SS Rank)]**
**[EXP GAINED: +312 EXP]**
**[CURRENT EXP: 2062/2000]**
**[LEVEL UP!]**
Alex collapsed to his knees beside the smoking corpse, his fire abilities completely exhausted. Blood trickled from his nose as the backlash from overextension hit, and his hands shook with more than just fatigue. Without the coordinated support of his fellow prisoners, the SS ranked beast would have torn him apart. Around him, the surviving prisoners showed various degrees of exhaustion. The Chitinous Behemoth’s acid reserves were depleted, and the S ranked Shadeborn looked utterly drained from maintaining its transformation for so long.
The crowd’s roar had taken on a different quality—not just bloodthirsty excitement, but something approaching respect. Even among these alien spectators, there was recognition of skill demonstrated under impossible circumstances.
The Arena Warden’s voice boomed across the pit: "Kresh-vel thurvani zhel-korth! Nakul-mori thuul vorthak!"
**[Translation: "Three warriors proved worthy together! The Master grows... interested in such developments!"]**
As they were escorted back to their cells, Alex felt the weight of advancement pending in his system. One level up, finally achieved. But more than that, he’d gained something potentially more valuable: a glimpse of what his abilities could become with proper technique and understanding.
The S ranked Shadeborn caught his attention as they walked, its exhausted form moving with obvious effort. In the harsh syllables of their captors’ language, it spoke one final time: "Kresh-thuul mekthari nakul. Zhel-vorth thurvani keth."
The lesson was clear. Raw power was just the beginning—true mastery lay in the application of that power with precision and understanding. And in this arena, even natural enemies could become temporary allies when survival demanded it.
But the cost of that lesson would haunt him. The sight of the injured A ranked Shadeborn being torn apart would serve as a constant reminder of what failure meant in this place.
The question was whether he’d live long enough to explore his new capabilities, or if the Arena Master’s growing interest would prove more dangerous than any beast he’d faced.