Death Guns In Another World

The void swallowed Nyx’s figure the moment she retreated into her throne. Alex was left standing alone, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat. His sword lay some meters away, half-buried in the black floor. His ribs ached where her knee had driven into him, and his arms trembled with the memory of her relentless flurry.

Any sane person would have collapsed right there. But Alex’s lips pulled into a grin that was half grimace, half exhilaration.

“Not yet… I’m not done yet!” His voice echoed across the shadowed arena.

He forced one step forward. Then another. His body screamed, but his soul burned brighter. The void around him trembled, reacting to the sheer defiance leaking from him.

Up on her throne, Nyx’s eyes opened again — faint stars glimmering in the abyss. She did not sigh, nor shake her head. She simply stood, her blade humming in her hand, as if she had expected this from the very beginning.

The gravity multiplied again, far heavier than before. Alex’s knees nearly buckled, his bones creaked, and the shadows around him thickened into mist.

Controlling his mana pool. Black and crimson energy licked across his skin like fire, forcing his body to remain upright. He extended his hand and called his weapons back — the sword, spear, and bow all appearing around him before dissolving into streams of energy that entered his body.

Tonight, he wasn’t training with weapons. He would fight with everything.

The arena rumbled. From the walls of the abyss, dozens of shadow-shaped monsters began to form, twisted echoes of beasts and men. They circled him, low growls rumbling like thunder. Nyx raised her sword slightly, commanding the horde forward.

Alex’s smile sharpened. “So this time it’s everyone, huh?”

He spread his arms wide as mana erupted from his core. “Come!”

The monsters charged.

The first lunged — a hulking beast with claws like axes — but Alex ducked, driving an elbow into its abdomen before flipping it over his shoulder. Another came from the left. He caught it by the neck and hurled it into a cluster, the impact exploding into shadowy fragments.

A third beast leapt at him — jaws open — and Alex shoved his arm down its throat before firing pure prana from his palm. The creature detonated into smoke.

Dozens more rushed him, claws scraping, wings beating, bodies colliding with bone-crunching force.

For long minutes Alex was consumed in chaos, his body battered, his energy burning away faster than he could manage. Yet through it all, he moved with relentless determination — fists, knees, kicks, bursts of magic, every scrap of training carved into his muscles finally blooming into desperate instinct.

But the monsters weren’t the point. He knew it.

This was all prelude.

When the last monster fell in tatters, Alex dropped to one knee, his chest heaving. His arms were cut, blood oozing in thin lines down his forearms. His shirt was shredded, sweat dripping from his chin.

That was when the air froze.

Nyx stepped down from her throne. The shadows parted like an ocean bowing to its sovereign. She walked slowly, her sword humming, her expression unreadable.

Alex forced himself back to his feet, every tendon screaming. “Finally…”

They stood facing one another across the arena, the void trembling in anticipation.

No signal. No countdown.

They simply vanished.

Their blades collided in midair, the impact splitting the arena’s floor into jagged cracks.

Alex’s body blurred as he poured everything into speed, chaining attacks together with reckless abandon. Horizontal slash — thrust — rising arc — spin strike — every movement pushed the limits of his body.

Nyx parried them all. Effortlessly. Her blade moved with surgical precision, cutting down every strike like a teacher dismantling a student’s sloppy technique. Her feet barely shifted, her calm unbroken.

Still, Alex’s strikes grew sharper. Each failure carried knowledge. Each clash shaved away hesitation. He began predicting the rhythm of her sword, adapting to the impossible.

For the first time, Nyx’s eyes narrowed.

Nyx raised her free hand again. The gravity quintupled.

Alex’s body crashed to the ground, his arms barely holding his sword upright. His chest pressed against the floor. He couldn’t even breathe.

She advanced slowly, blade gleaming.

But instead of surrender, Alex let out a ragged laugh. “Is that all? Heh… If you want me to stay down—”

Prana exploded out of him in a violent wave, his veins glowing crimson-black. The floor cracked as he pushed against the crushing gravity, forcing his legs to straighten.

“—you’ll have to break me!”

He rose. Step by step. His muscles tore. His blood boiled. But he rose.

When Nyx’s sword came down, Alex swung upward with a roar, the clash detonating like a thunderclap.

From that moment, Alex fought like a demon. His movements grew wild yet refined, driven by raw instinct sharpened by desperation.

He let go of the distinction between sword, spear, or bow — conjuring them mid-combat as extensions of his body. A spear thrust morphed into a slash as he switched to the sword mid-motion. A feint with the bow string disguised a kick to Nyx’s abdomen.

The air filled with trails of black energy from his movements, the arena lighting up with every swing.

Yet Nyx still outpaced him. Her strikes flowed like water around his fury. Her blade cut deeper each time, leaving burning lines across his arms, his chest, his thighs.

He was bleeding. Staggering.

But his eyes burned with mad determination.

“I’ll land it… just once…!”

At last, Nyx moved differently. She leaned in, her sword humming louder, and Alex felt it — the shift in intent.

She was done holding back.

Her next swing carried such force that the world itself seemed to crack. Alex blocked with everything — sword in both hands, spear braced across his back, prana flaring so violently his vision blurred.

The impact launched him across the arena. He slammed into the floor hard enough to crater it, coughing blood. His body refused to move.

Nyx’s shadow fell over him. Her blade rose for the final strike.

And in that moment — something inside Alex snapped.

Not in despair. But in revelation.

The mana inside him roared, surging out in uncontrollable waves. His heterochromia eyes glowed red, his body wrapped in black fire. The weapons he had conjured dissolved into pure energy, fusing into his limbs. He was evolving into something new. Even though some of his past skills couldn’t be used, it doesn’t matter he would turn into a better version of himself, the change start now.

He stood again. Barehanded. His aura was so heavy it cracked the floor with every step.

Nyx’s sword descended. Alex raised his fist and caught the blade between his knuckles.

The void itself shuddered.

For the first time, Nyx’s lips parted in surprise.

Alex grinned, teeth bloody. “Finally… I touched you.”

No words were exchanged. They simply moved.

Alex’s fists clashed against Nyx’s sword in a flurry that split the air into roaring shockwaves. Every strike sent thunder echoing through the void. His body tore apart with every movement, but his aura stitched him back together just enough to keep going.

Nyx’s strikes grew sharper, her expression colder, as if testing this new form. She slashed high, low, feinted, spun — and Alex answered with fists, knees, elbows, raw energy.

The climax built with every heartbeat until the entire inner world shook as if about to collapse.

Finally, Alex poured everything into one last punch — a strike that carried his blood, his will, his desperation.

Nyx met it with a full swing of her blade.

The explosion of impact erased the arena in a blinding storm of shadow and light.

When the dust cleared, Alex was on his knees, coughing blood, his body shredded. His aura flickered out.

Nyx stood over him, her blade lowered. She looked down at him in silence, then — slowly — nodded once.

It wasn’t victory. Not yet.

But acknowledgment.

Alex collapsed backward, unconscious, a faint smile frozen on his lips.