Utopian System

Zahyla Guthrand (Divine Metamorphosis)

Level 100 (10)

Skills:

Divine Cursed Soul (???)

Divine Elemental Magic (Wind, Fire, Water and Ground)

Mana: 1000/1000

Resistance: 1,000,000/1,000,000

Stamina: 999/1000

Attack: 1000

Magic Damage: 1000

Strength: 200

Defense: 1000

Magic Defense: 1000

Speed: 200

Perception / Agility: 2 (A)

Elio launched forward, his body transformed into pure killing intent.

Zahyla responded instantly, her movement fluid and confident, born of millennia of experience. The clash between them made the chamber's air tremble.

Zahyla's arms would't even vibrate at receiving the impact. Her strength of 200 points should be more than enough to dominate any direct confrontation.

Or so she thought...

But something was wrong.

Elio's eyes, bloodshot from fury and superhuman effort, glowed with a determination that bordered on madness.

Diana's betrayal had broken something in him, unleashing a rage that transformed pain into pure power.

'Impossible,' thought Zahyla as her sword was forced back.

Strength: 640 SSS

Elio's strength was reaching levels that defied all logic. Each blow carried the weight of 640 power points, a feat that should be tearing his own muscles apart.

But it was his precision that truly disconcerted her.

The next exchange was so fast that the artromus could barely follow it. Where Zahyla expected to find resistance, Elio's sword was no longer there. Where she planned to counter, he had already moved.

The first cut came like lightning, finding a point in her neck that she didn't even know she was exposing. Zahyla forced her perception, raising it from 2 to 8 points, trying to anticipate the next movement.

It wasn't enough.

Elio's deadly dance unfolded like a perfectly orchestrated symphony of destruction. Each thrust, each turn, each breath calculated with a precision that bordered on supernatural.

Perception / Agility: 96 SSS

His perception turned the world into a canvas where every detail, every minimal muscular tremor of his opponent, revealed itself with crystalline clarity.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

'How...?' The question formed in Zahyla's mind as another cut, exactly in the same place as the previous one, opened her flesh.

Even forcing her perception to the maximum, from 8 to 32, her absolute limit, she couldn't completely follow Elio's movements.

Zahyla's blood dripped to the chamber floor, a testimony to the impossible.

Her millennia of experience screamed that this shouldn't be happening.

But the difference between 32 and 96 points of perception was an abyss that no amount of experience could completely compensate for.

They were more than numbers. The determination in Elio's eyes transcended any rational calculation. Each movement caused him pain that should be paralyzing, each technique pushed to SSS threatened to destroy his own body.

But he didn't care.

Diana, still trapped in her metal prison, watched with horror and fascination.

The artromus approached, their usual reaction speed disturbed by the display of power before them and they had launched late.

The air itself seemed charged with electricity, each clash between the combatants sending shockwaves through the chamber.

Zahyla still couldn't believe it. Her wounds, though not fatal, were a testimony to the unthinkable. This human, this being whose existence was a blink compared to hers, had made her bleed. And he had done it not once, but twice, with a precision that defied all comprehension.

The predatory smile had disappeared from her face, replaced by something closer to respect. Or perhaps, though she would never admit it, to fear.

Where she saw three possibilities, he seemed to perceive nine.

The exchange continued with a lateral impulse from Zahyla, seeking to create distance. Elio responded with a diagonal advance, his sword tracing an ascending arc. Zahyla's millennia of experience allowed her to anticipate the blow, her own blade deflecting the attack by centimeters.

But it was a feint.

Elio's true attack came in the recovery, a turn that converted his sword's rebound into a horizontal cut. Zahyla saw it coming, her experience screaming at her to block left, but Elio was already adjusting his trajectory again.

The blade found the same point in her neck for the third time.

It wasn't a deep cut, Zahyla's resistance remained formidable, but the precision was terrifying. Each blow exactly in the same place, each movement calculated with a precision that her perception of 32 could barely follow.

With no pride to defend, Zahyla made a tactical decision. She retreated with precise impulses, her eyes never leaving Elio while her artromus moved in formation.

Four of them converged from different angles. The first attacked from the right, its claws seeking Elio's blind spot. The second and third synchronized in a crossed attack from above and below. The fourth stayed slightly delayed, ready to exploit any opening.

For any other warrior, even one at level 20, it would have been a perfect trap.

For Elio, with his perception of 96 points, it was like watching a dance in ultra slow motion.

The first artromus found only air where Elio had been a fraction of a second before. The turn that followed was impossibly fluid, Elio's sword tracing an ascending spiral that intercepted the crossed attack before it could be completed.

The second artromus's claws barely grazed the air where Elio's head had been. The blade found its cores at the exact point of maximum extension.

The third tried to adjust its trajectory, but Elio was already completing his turn. The same maneuver that finished the second artromus carried his sword through the third's cores without losing momentum.

Zahyla saw the trajectory that would carry the sword to the fourth artromus. Her intervention was precise, her blade intercepting the killing blow by millimeters.

But even as she saved her subordinate, a part of her mind couldn't help but marvel. The complete sequence had lasted less than a second, and each movement had been executed with a precision that defied her long-lived comprehension.

How could this youth do this with such a low level... with so little experience.

More artromus joined the combat, their transformed forms converging from all directions. Their attacks were perfectly coordinated, each blow designed to complement the others, creating a death net that should leave no space for evasion.

But Elio moved like air between raindrops. Each attack that should connect found only emptiness. Each trap that should work closed too late. Enjoy new tales from empire

For Elio, it was as if the whole world moved through honey. Each intention telegraphed with crystalline clarity, every muscle tensing like a bright warning of what would come.

His sword found the cores of 3 more artromus before they could register they had died. An impossible turn took him between three simultaneous attacks, his blade leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Zahyla's eyes narrowed. The perception difference was proving more devastating than she had calculated. She would need to change strategy, and soon.

The air in the chamber became saturated with power as Zahyla raised her hand. Elemental magic manifested in waves of pure energy, the control of four basic elements converging in a devastating assault.

The artromus moved in synchrony with their leader, each channeling their own elemental power. The space around Elio became a minefield of magical reactions: fire explosions, pressurized water currents, cutting wind gusts, and condensed earth projectiles.