I Am...

I was decked out in head-to-toe jet-black. Hood pulled low, Magician's Mask firmly in place—the whole "mysterious anti-hero" ensemble. I strolled into the room with all the leisure in the world, stopping just a hair’s breadth outside the striking distance.

"So, the man in black..." Zenon Griffey glared at me, his eyes trying for a 'sharp gaze' that just felt desperate. "You're that stray dog who's been nipping at the Cult's heels lately, aren't you?"

Time for the line.

"My name is Shadow," I said. I went for the deep, abyss-tier bass, the kind of voice that sounds like it’s echoing from the bottom of a well. "I lurk in the shadows... and I hunt the shadows."

"I see. You’ve taken out a few small-scale bases and let it go to your head," Zenon sneered. "But let's be real—the Cult’s main force wasn't at any of those spots. You’re just a coward who specializes in bullying small fry."

Clearly, this guy wasn't a fan. That was great news for Alexia, though I doubted she saw me as some knight in shining armor either.

"It makes no difference who I hunt or where I hunt them," I replied.

"Regrettably, it makes all the difference. The main force is right here. Today, you’re destined to be the one getting hunted."

Zenon leveled his sword at me.

"Zenon Griffey, 12th Seat of the Rounds-elect. I’ll be taking your life as a trophy to secure my seat."

Then he launched a thrust at me. It was fast, sure—like a gale—but please.

I didn't even have to try. I just flicked out of his line of sight, and his blade bit into nothing but air.

"Wha—!?"

A second later, I was standing right behind him. I’d completely taken his back in a heartbeat.

The guy froze. It was like he’d forgotten how time worked. He stopped his sword, stopped his breath, and tried to concentrate every nerve on the guy standing directly behind him.

We just stood there. I didn't even move; I just crossed my arms and stood back-to-back with him for the aesthetic.

"So..." I let the word hang in the air. "Where is this 'main force' you mentioned?"

Zenon’s face twisted in pure humiliation. He spun around, swinging his sword in a wide arc, but I was already gone.

"Impossible...!"

The faint flutter of my coat was the only clue he had.

I was back at my starting position, standing there like I’d never moved an inch. From Alexia’s perspective, I must have looked like a ghost. If there were no tricks involved—and there weren't—I was basically an "irregular" factor. A total glitch in his power-scaling matrix.

Zenon tried to keep his cool and turned back to face me.

"Alright, I’ll admit I underestimated you a bit. You didn't wipe out those bases by luck, I suppose."

This time, he wasn't playing around. He flared his Magic Power, and the air actually started to vibrate. It was a massive jump from the hit that had shattered Alexia’s blade earlier.

The thing is, Zenon actually was strong. He’d been the "child prodigy" type, winning tournaments and climbing the ranks to become a Swordsmanship Instructor. Everyone in the Royal Capital knew his name.

"Allow me to show you," he growled. "This is the true power of the Rounds-elect."

He moved. Fast.

Alexia could barely track the white blur of his blade as it whipped toward my neck.

"Dull," I remarked.

I’d already drawn my Jet-black Blade. I caught his strike with zero effort.

"Kh...!"

Zenon tried to win the blade lock, putting his weight into it. I just relaxed, used his own momentum against him, and tossed him aside like yesterday's trash.

"Huh...!"

He managed to stick the landing before hitting the wall, desperately re-centering his stance. But the panic was starting to leak through the cracks in his expression.

Neither of us moved. Well, I chose not to move. Zenon, on the other hand, couldn't move. He looked like he was trapped in some kind of illusion where every possible opening was already sealed.

"What's wrong, Rounds-elect? Not coming?"

"You...!"

Zenon’s face turned a delightful shade of murderous red.

"DON'T YOU DARE LOOK DOWN ON MEEEEEEEE!!"

He went full berserker. He swung, he thrust, he unleashed a firestorm of strikes.

But none of it landed.

"AAAAAAGGHHHHH!!"

His battle cry started to sound pretty pathetic. It was basically a glorified practice session between an adult and a toddler.

Alexia was watching the whole thing in total shock. She’d never seen Zenon lose his cool like this. The "perfect gentleman" mask was gone, and even with all that effort, he couldn't even touch me. She probably thought her sister, Princess Iris, was the peak of strength, but even Iris wouldn't have been able to humiliate him this badly.

Clang. Cling. Clang.

The light, rhythmic sound of our swords echoed through the facility. It sounded exactly like a training drill. My jet-black blade and his white steel traced arcs through the air, and eventually, Alexia seemed to get sucked into the rhythm. She couldn't look away.

Because she saw it.

"The Ordinary Sword..." she whispered.

Exactly. It was the evolution of her own style. The "ideal" she’d dreamed of as a kid—not built on talent, or raw speed, or overwhelming power, but on the sheer, tireless repetition of the basics. The sword of a "have-not."

She’d lost her way after everyone compared her to her genius sister and called her sword "ordinary." But she hadn't been able to let it go. And now, that same "ordinary" sword was absolutely dismantling a "genius" like Zenon Griffey.

"Incredible..."

She was into it. I could tell. You can see a person's entire life story by how they swing a sword, and mine was a story of single-minded, straight-line dedication.

"Sister Iris..." she murmured.

I guess she finally figured out whatever cryptic advice her sister had given her.

"Gah... d-damn it...!"

Zenon went flying and hit the dirt for the umpteenth time. He glared at me, panting like a dog, his eyes still refusing to believe reality.

"W-who the hell are you...?! With that kind of strength, why hide your face!?"

I mean, if I went public, I’d have fame and money. But then I wouldn't be a cool mysterious shadow-broker, would I? Besides, my swordplay is pretty distinct. If I showed my face once, people would never forget it. But as it stood, neither Zenon nor Alexia had a clue who I was.

"We are Shadow Garden," I said, sticking to the script. "Those who lurk in the shadows, those who hunt the shadows. We exist for that purpose alone..."

"Are you insane!?"

Zenon and I locked eyes. Alexia was just a spectator at this point, probably confused as hell about the whole "Blood, Demons, Cult" plotline. To a normal person, it probably sounded like the ramblings of a crazy person.

Unless, of course, it was all true. Unless there was a massive conspiracy running the world from the reverse side that she knew nothing about.

"Fine. If you’re going to be serious, I suppose I should return the favor."

Zenon reached into his coat and pulled out a Red Pill.

"With this, a human transcends their limits to become an Awakened. Normal people can't handle the strain and eventually die, but the Rounds are different. Only those who can master this overwhelming power earn the right to lead."

He popped the pill.

"Awakened 3rd."

A literal storm of Magic Power erupted from him. His wounds closed instantly, his muscles bulged, and his eyes turned bloodshot as his veins started popping. The pressure was intense enough to make most people want to curl up and die.

"Now, I’ll show you the strongest power there is," Zenon said, his smug smile returning.

To be fair, he was probably stronger than Princess Iris at that moment. He was, technically, the "world's strongest" for a hot second. The old Alexia would have despaired. But after seeing my sword? This version of Zenon didn't look strong at all.

"Ugly..." she whispered.

"How ugly," I agreed.

We were both aiming for the same peak. It made sense we’d share the same opinion.

"Ugly...?" Zenon’s smile died.

"Don't call that 'strongest.' It’s a blasphemy against the word."

"Why you...!"

"There’s no path to the top using borrowed power."

I finally let my Magic Power flare. I’d barely used any until now. My mana is precise—so precise that most people can't even feel it.

But then, I let it show.

The mana manifested as dozens of thin, bluish-purple lines of light. They coiled around me like glowing veins or branches of lightning, forming a beautiful, intricate pattern.

"So beautiful..." Alexia breathed. She wasn't just talking about the light; she was enamored with the sheer density and control of the mana itself.

"What is this...?" Zenon was losing his mind. He’d never seen mana shaped like this.

"I’ll engrave the meaning of 'true strength' into your eyes."

The mana gathered on my Jet-black Blade, etching glowing patterns into the steel. It began to spin, concentrating into a tight spiral. It felt like the entire world was being sucked into that point.

"This is my strongest."

I took a stance. A simple thrusting stance. One designed for a single purpose.

"S-stop..." Zenon stammered.

The ground was shaking. The air was shaking. Zenon was shaking. Everything was vibrating under the sheer weight of the move I was about to pull.

Alexia was shaking, too, but not from fear. It was pure joy. She was looking at the finish line—the ultimate sword.

"Observe..."

I pulled the glowing blade back.

"Secret Technique: I Am Atomic."

Then, I let it rip.

The sound vanished.

A literal torrent of light swallowed Zenon whole and roared past Alexia. It punched through the walls, the earth, and everything else in its way, screaming into the night sky.

And then, it detonated.

A massive magical sigil burned itself into the clouds, dyeing the entire Royal Capital bluish-purple. Seconds later, the shockwave hit, blowing the rain clouds away and rattling every house in the city.

When the light cleared, all that was left was a beautiful starry sky and a full moon.

Zenon had been vaporized—not even dust remained. A massive tunnel had been carved through the facility all the way to the surface.

I gave my coat a stylish flick and vanished into the night.

---

Once, there was a man who wanted to beat a nuclear weapon.

He trained his body, his mind, and his techniques. But no matter how hard he worked, the nuke was still on a level he couldn't reach.

But he didn't give up. After a literal lifetime of insane training, he finally found the answer.

[PROBLEM] How do I avoid being vaporized by a nuclear bomb? [ANSWER] I just have to become the nuclear bomb.

That's the simple, clear-cut logic that birthed the ultimate Secret Technique: I Am Atomic.

---

Alexia stood there in the silence for a long time.

"Alexia! Alexia!!"

A voice was calling from the distance, desperate and out of breath. She knew that voice.

"Sister... Sister Iris!"

She started running, darting through the hole I’d blasted in the wall and out into the open air.

"Alexia! Thank God!"

Iris came sprinting toward her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Iris was soaking wet from the rain, and though she felt cold, the hug was warm.

"You're safe... you're actually safe..."

Alexia slowly wrapped her arms around her sister's back.

"I'm sorry," Iris whispered. "I'm all wet, you must be freezing."

Alexia just shook her head against Iris's chest, the tears finally starting to flow.