The Eminence in Shadow is Solitary

Olba’s aura shifted.

The Magic Power that had been rampaging out of control suddenly went quiet, compressing itself into a dense core within his physical frame. Blood vessels burst, muscles shredded, and bones snapped under the pressure—only to be knitted back together in an instant. By harboring such an absurd amount of Magic Power, he had surpassed the limits of humanity.

The Cult called this "Awakening."

Once you crossed that line, there was no coming back. But in exchange? You got absolute power.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

With a roar that sounded more like a beast than a man, Olba vanished. A dull thud echoed through the chamber, and in that same heartbeat, I—the Jet-black Boy—was sent flying.

I kicked off the wall, corrected my posture mid-air, and stuck the landing. But Olba was already on me. His sword slammed into me again and again, launching me across the room.

"Slow! Light! Fragile! This is reality, brat!"

The pursuit was relentless. Every impact rang out like a hammer on an anvil as I was tossed around. Olba’s slashes were single-mindedly fast, heavy, and utterly merciless. It was pure, overwhelming violence. A tiger doesn't need "techniques" to kill a rabbit; it just exerts its strength and lets the rabbit die. There was no resisting it.

I was being systematically dismantled. Or at least, that’s how it was supposed to look.

"–!?"

Blood sprayed from Olba’s chest. Before he even realized I’d moved, a deep sword wound had opened across his torso. He froze for a fraction of a second, then immediately swung again, blowing me back.

"It doesn’t work! It won’t work, you little shiiiiit!!"

The wound should have hit bone, but the flesh bubbled and regenerated in a blink.

"This is power! This is what it means to be strong!"

Olba accelerated even further. Spouting blood and tearing through the air, he looked like a Crimson Flash.

Jet-black versus Crimson.

We collided again and again. I’d get sent flying; he’d spurt more blood. The exchange was too fast for the naked eye to follow. All an observer would have seen were crimson afterimages and a black blur being knocked around, signaling that a fight was, in fact, happening.

But even this couldn't last forever. The gap in raw stats was too wide. It was obvious that the "Jet-black Boy" would eventually break. It was a match Olba couldn't possibly lose. He swung his blade again and again, trampling over me with his monstrous strength.

And yet... he started to look worried. Why was I still standing there, looking exactly the same as when we started?

"Why... Why can't I finish you...?"

I hadn't changed a bit. I was barely using any Magic Power, barely moving my body at all. I was just letting his momentum carry me, drifting through the chaos like a leaf in a rapid current. But I wasn't just drifting. Every time he rushed me, I used his own speed to precisely slide my blade into his vitals.

I did nothing useless. Nothing unnecessary. I was just being natural. Just being.

"Ugly, isn't it?" I said.

I stared him down, my eyes seeing right through his little tantrum.

"What do you know?! What could a brat like you possibly understand?!"

Olba howled. He poured every last drop of Magic Power into his sword and his body, preparing a final, desperate mowed-down swing. Even if it killed him, he was going to end me. It was, without a doubt, the greatest strike of his entire life.

Too bad for him.

"Playtime is over."

I cut him in two.

My Jet-black Blade swung through the air as if passing through an empty field. There was zero resistance. Olba’s sword, his massive Magic Power, his peak-human physique—all of it was sliced apart in a single stroke.

Up until that moment, Olba probably thought my swordsmanship was built on pure skill—no Magic Power, no strength, no speed.

He was wrong.

"What... is this...?"

It was a stroke that cut through everything. In his final moments of hyper-clarity, Olba saw it. He saw the blade slice his sword, his magic, his flesh, and his bone. That one swing contained incredibly dense Magic Power. It had absolute strength. It had overwhelming speed. And above all else... it had peerless skill.

This was the perfected form.

I had everything. I just hadn't felt like using it until now. When I actually put my heart into it, there was nothing in this world I couldn't cut.

"To think... you were this..."

Blood geysered. His upper body slid off his waist, and his legs toppled over a second later. His divided halves still tried to regenerate, but the man was already broken. His flesh began to rot and decay, leaving black stains across the floor.

I looked down; he looked up.

By crossing swords with me, Olba finally understood. You can tell everything about a person by their blade. My sword was the sword of a serious, honest, ordinary person—a style won through effort so intense it made my soul bleed.

He’d thought I was just some kid who didn't know the "real world." He was wrong. I knew exactly how the world worked, and I’d chosen this path anyway.

Powerless. Olba’s entire life had been powerless. He’d tried to be something, but achieved nothing.

But maybe, if it was this Jet-black Boy...

"Mili... a..."

Olba reached for the dagger with the blue jewel and closed his eyes. In his fading consciousness, he saw the smiling face of the daughter he’d lost so long ago.

So, anyway, the whole "Exterminate the Bandits and Save My Sister" quest was a wrap. Since Sis was knocked out, I just untied her and left her there. She came home the next day in a total foul mood. She’s way too tenacious for her own good—her hand injury was basically gone after one night of sleep. After a week of annoying fuss involving her "recuperation" and the official investigation, she finally headed off to the Royal Capital. For some reason, she was incredibly clingy during that last week. It was a huge pain.

Alpha and the others seemed super busy investigating the bandit group and mopping up the leftovers. Oh, wait, they're calling them "The Cult" now, aren't they? Whatever. Bandits, cultists—same difference.

I have to say, though, that Red Eye old man from the bandits was a total find. When he dropped that line, "Then I shall sink, as deep as it takes," I got chills. It was the quintessential "Eminence in Shadow" dialogue. I honestly wanted to hire the guy as a recurring supporting actor.

And man, my performance was 10/10. My ad-libbing in that high-pressure climax was a must-see. It’s a tragedy I didn't have an audience, but I guess I can hold out for two more years. That’s when I head to the Royal Capital. The Royal Capital. One of the biggest metropolises in the world, the only city in this kingdom with a million people. There are bound to be "protagonist" characters there, and maybe even a "last boss." Conspiracies, incidents, and shadow wars that you just don't get in the countryside... and then, the Eminence in Shadow drops in to mess with everyone.

Ugh, just thinking about it makes me realize I’m still just a frog in a well, acting tough by beating up local bandits. My story hasn't even hit the prologue yet.

One day, while I was training for my big debut in two years, the seven girls gathered at my place. Apparently, they wanted to give me a report on their "investigation into the Cult" and "research on the curse." Everyone's been so busy lately that it's rare to see all seven of them in one room.

This research stuff is such a waste of time, but I guess I'll listen, I thought as they started talking.

To summarize:

First, they claimed the heroes who fought the Demon Diabolos were all women. That’s why the Curse of Diabolos only shows up in girls.

Creative, I’ll give them that. Too bad the history books say the heroes were all dudes. Since Shadow Garden is all-female (except me), I guess they needed a reason to feel special?

Next, they said the curse shows up most in Elves, then Beastkin, and finally humans. Apparently, it's about lifespan. Humans die too fast, so the "hero blood" gets diluted. Elves live forever, so the blood stays "thick," making the curse more common.

I mean, yeah, I’m the only human in the group, and I don't have Possession. We've got two Beastkin and five Elves. And since they were all "cured" of Possession, I guess they worked backward to find a "plausible" explanation. They really put some thought into these settings.

Alpha and the rest kept rambling on, but I mostly tuned it out.

Then they moved on to the Cult report. Apparently, The Cult is a massive, world-spanning shadow organization. Wow, very impressive. Spooky.

They said The Cult calls the girls with Possession "Adapters" and tries to capture or kill them immediately. To fight back, the girls decided Shadow Garden needs to go global. They’re going to leave one person with me on a rotation, while the rest scatter across the world to "protect Adapters" and "sabotage the Cult."

That’s when it hit me.

They finally realized the Cult of Diabolos isn't real.

This was their way of saying, "Look, we can't keep playing make-believe with you forever, so we’re going to go off and do our own thing." "Scattering across the world" was just code for "moving on with our lives." But since they still feel like they owe me for curing their skin diseases back in the day, they’ll leave one girl behind to babysit me so I don't feel too bad. That had to be it. They’d finally grown up.

I felt a little sentimental. It’s like back in my previous life—everyone wants to be a hero when they’re kids, but then they get older and forget they ever cared. I’m always the only one left behind.

Well, they’ve become adults. It happens.

I decided to send them off with a smile. I never really intended to have seven employees anyway. Just me and one assistant is plenty. I watched the girls leave, acting like they were sad to say goodbye, and I made a vow.

Even if I'm the only person left in this world playing the game, I’m going to keep aiming for the top. I will be the Eminence in Shadow.