Creation System: Reborn As A Fantasy Worldsmith



"You won't pass... because I'm way too weak."

Alten barely managed to say once again, his vision beginning to actually darken. It was clear, he was losing consciousness at this very moment. 

'I probably have a few more seconds left before I pass out...'

He predicted, not knowing what to do. 

ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm "What?"

Ked replied in confusion, even more perplexed than he was a second ago.

"Stop bullshitting! Just tell me what you want to say before you get eliminated, plebeian!"

He yelled, frustrated at the boy.

"I'm weak... so it will be easy to take me out. But the other two... they will kill you all."

Alten widened his enraged eyes even more at the last part of his statement, staring directly towards Ked. This remark further angered Kedward, who decided that it was time to eliminate the boy in his grip.

"Hey... let go of him."

An unfamiliar voice suddenly sounded from behind Ked, as he felt a blunt object abruptly slam against his back. It felt as though all the air in his lungs were driven out, as his eyes tried to roll back into his head.

His grip loosened, causing Alten to fall to the floor and begin choking, as he stumbled forward, clutching at his back before abruptly turning around.

"Who the hell dares to--" 

Kedward yelled, stopping himself as he looked at the person who attacked him from behind. The tall kid held a rod... one that was covered in stone. He was also robbed for some reason, his face hidden.

"You! You're the robed kid! What faction do you belong to!?"

Kedward barked, only for no reply.

"It doesn't matter anyway, you're dead!"

He ripped off his shirt, revealing his body which was as pale as snow. Of course, the Jack of Spades symbol was displayed across his back. His eyes turned crazy, as his breathing became frenzied.

Alten, catching his breath, looked at the robed figure with confused eyes. He examined deeper, and from his low angle, was able to recognize a face.

"Since I've already done this... I guess there's no longer any point in hiding my identity."

The robed kid said, taking off his brown robe and revealing his face and body. He wore a white robe underneath, one that Alten immediately recognized.  I think you should take a look at ραΠdαsnovel.cοm

"K--Kang!?"

***

Currently, even though Spade's technique was indeed superior, Lyrian's higher speed and strength helped him stay in the fight. The clash of their blades echoed in the open space, each strike becoming faster and more ferocious than the last.

In a sudden burst of energy, Lyrian Enhanced his hands and unleashed a flurry of strikes, each blow striking true and forcing Spade onto the defensive. With a final, powerful overhead strike, Lyrian aimed to end the battle, but Spade met the blow with a fierce upward parry, the shockwaves of their collision sending dust and debris flying around them.

Their blades locked once again, the force of their clash creating a small shockwave that radiated outward. 

Lyrian's determination burned bright in his eyes as he seized the opportunity he had created. With Spade momentarily off balance from their previous clash, Lyrian channeled even more mana into his hands and unleashed a rapid series of strikes. His obsidian blade danced with lethal precision, each strike aimed at exploiting Spade's momentary vulnerability.

Spade's grin faded as he struggled to keep up with the onslaught. His movements, once so fluid and confident, became frantic as he desperately parried Lyrian's blows. The clash of their blades grew more desperate, and with a final, powerful swing, Lyrian managed to knock Spade's blade out of his hand. The blade spun through the air before embedding itself in the ground a few feet away.

For a moment, there was a stunned silence as everyone around them processed what had just happened. Spade stood there, his chest heaving with exertion with Lyrian's blade pressed up against his neck.

***

Linc's grin widened as he recognized the challenge before him. He drew a thin, curved blade from his belt with practiced ease, meeting Leon's charge with a fluid display of swordsmanship. The clash of steel echoed in the air as their blades met, the sound resonating with the weight of their determination.

Each strike, each parry, was a dance of skill and strategy. Leon's brute strength clashed with Linc's finesse and precision. The battleground around them seemed to shrink as they engaged in their intense duel, their breaths mingling with the tension that hung in the air.

In a swift maneuver, Linc disengaged, leaping back to create distance between them. His chest heaved, and his grin had a mixture of respect and exhilaration. "Not bad, swordsman. You've got more than just determination."

Leon didn't respond, nor did he stop attacking, dashing forward once again before swinging his sword towards his opponent. Linc narrowly dodged, the force of the blow sending tremors through the ground. His back hit a pillar, and he struggled to regain his footing.

'Damn it... He's stronger than I thought. He doesn't stop either, like a machine. I underestimated him.'

Linc thought to himself, looking at his palm. Purple tears of energy coursed through them. It was the consequence of using poison magic without a proper poison base...

'I can't fight for much longer. I'll need help.'

Leon's eyes were locked onto Linc, his focus unrelenting. He saw an opportunity—a chance to end the battle decisively. With a fierce roar, he charged forward, his sword raised for a final, crushing blow.

Linc's heart pounded in his chest as panic gripped him. The realization hit him that he was on the brink of being overwhelmed. Fear surged through him, threatening to paralyze his limbs. He knew he had pushed himself too far, and undermined his opponent, and now he was paying the price.

In that fleeting moment of desperation, Linc's survival instinct kicked in. He had faced danger countless times before, but this was different. He had danced too close to the edge, and the threat of failing this exam was all too real.

Just as Leon's blade was about to descend upon him, Linc made a split-second decision. He dropped to his knees, his sword falling from his hand as he raised both arms in surrender. "Stop! I yield!"

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