No More Pain For This Villain.

358  Battle Ground

The battlefield stretched endlessly, an expanse of devastation and chaos. The sky was thick with ash, and smoke rose from fires that raged across the land. The earth, cracked and torn, bore the scars of brutal, relentless battles that seemed to have no end.

On the horizon, colossal figures clashed. Towering giants, wielding massive axes and swords, swung their weapons with crushing force. Their armor, heavy and practical, was battered and scorched, a far cry from the ornate designs once etched into it. Their roars reverberated through the air as they fought against serpentine creatures that slithered with lethal precision. The Abyssalors, massive serpents covered in obsidian-black scales, snapped their fanged jaws at the giants, their tails swinging with enough force to shatter stone and send their enemies sprawling.

The sky was no haven. Above, phoenixes, their fiery feathers blazing like comets, dove through the smoke, unleashing fire upon the battlefield. Their shrill cries pierced the chaos as they clashed with frost wyverns, whose icy breath countered the flames, creating clouds of steam that obscured the violence below.

In the midst of the chaos, a dark, hulking shape moved with terrifying purpose. A massive dragon, its black scales glinting faintly through the gloom, soared above the carnage. With each beat of its powerful wings, it sent gusts of wind that fanned the flames of war. The dragon descended like a storm, its claws tearing through giants, its tail smashing serpents into the dirt.

As it landed, the dragon began to shift, its form condensing into a humanoid figure. Now standing upright, the dragon-turned-warrior was no less fearsome. Clad in black, dragon-scale armor that seemed to devour the light around it, the warrior held a massive blade in its hand. The sword, forged from the same dark material as its armor, glinted ominously in the dim light.

With each swing of the blade, the warrior cut down enemies—giants, serpents, even the phoenixes that dared dive too close. Amidst the swirling chaos, the warrior stood alone, unyielding, a force of destruction incarnate. The battlefield raged around him, but he remained steadfast, a living weapon shaped by the endless war.

It felt surreal, like I was watching from somewhere distant, yet close, as if I were within this memory. The system had called it a "core memory," but the question of whose memory it belonged to gnawed at me. I wasn't controlling the vision; it was like my eyes were being guided without my will.

Then the answer came almost immediately.

[Lady Ignisara! We shall attack! This monstrosity that the dragons have created must be destroyed!] The voice came from a massive phoenix, its blazing form standing out sharply against the chaos of the battlefield. It looked right at me, its eyes pleading for orders.

The vision shifted again, this time behind me, and I saw an army of phoenixes—hundreds of them—hovering in formation, their fiery wings lighting up the smoke-filled sky. They were waiting. Waiting for *me* to act. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

**[Lady Ignisara, we need orders!]** The same phoenix spoke again, its voice urgent.

It hit me like a punch. This wasn't just a memory—I was seeing everything through her eyes. I was Ignisara in this vision. This was her perspective, her memory replaying, and I was locked into it, feeling everything she felt.

The vision moved down to the battlefield below, where the battle raged on. This was no ordinary fight—it was a clash of beings with godlike power. Titans of immense strength and ferocity tore at each other, but there, in the heart of the battle, stood one warrior. A warrior born of dragons, his power unmatched. He cut through everything in his path, his roars alone toppling giants. The ground trembled beneath his feet.

A monstrosity created by dragons, the phoenix had said. Was this warrior who I thought he was? Could it be him? A creation of the dragons, the embodiment of their fury and strength. A being so powerful that even the gods themselves saw him as a threat.

I could feel Ignisara's thoughts creeping in—her recognition of the warrior's might, and perhaps, her fear. This was no ordinary enemy.

Yeah, it all came crashing down—Blaze, in his true form, the *only* abomination of dragons: Klashier.

Seeing him like this, standing at eight feet tall, his jet-black hair flowing wildly, and his yellow eyes blazing with unrestrained rage and bloodlust, made it all clear. This wasn't the Blaze I knew in my mind—this was something darker, more primal. His robes whipped around him as he swung a giant like it was nothing, tearing through anything unfortunate enough to fall within his grasp.

I watched in horror as he grabbed a phoenix mid-flight, ripping its wings apart as if he were skinning it alive. He sank his teeth into its neck, brutal and savage—Klashier wasn't just a monster. He was something worse, a force of pure destruction.

**[Attack!]** the cry came, but it wasn't Ignisara who gave the order. Her phoenix clan, driven by desperation, descended upon Klashier without hesitation. The sky lit up with flaming meteors, each one shaking the ground as they crashed down towards him.

But Klashier just stood there, grinning like a madman, as if he had been waiting for this.

**[I WILL CONQUER, I WILL!!!]** he roared, his voice shaking the battlefield as he spread his arms wide. His challenge echoed across the sky, and then came the sound—an earth-shattering roar, growing louder and louder.

On the horizon, a swarm of dragons—thousands of them—were fast approaching the battleground. They were answering his call.

The roar of dragons grew louder, shaking the very sky as they surged toward the battlefield. Thousands of them, wings blotting out the sun, casting a dark shadow over the chaos below. Each beat of their wings sent gusts of wind that fanned the flames and stirred the dust from the cracked earth. The sight was overwhelming—an unstoppable tide of fury descending toward Klashier.

Klashier, standing tall amidst the onslaught, looked up at the approaching swarm. His lips curled into a grin, a wild, frenzied smile that spoke of madness and triumph. His jet-black hair whipped around his face as he lifted his hands, welcoming the destruction that was about to unfold.

The phoenixes struck first, their fiery bodies diving from above, raining down like comets on the warrior below. But Klashier didn't flinch. He stood firm, arms outstretched, waiting as the flames surrounded him. The ground beneath him cracked and sizzled from the intense heat, but he remained untouched. With a flick of his hand, a wave of dark energy burst from-

And in all this a message popped up.

[Level up complete.]

And I was pushed back into black void.