INTIMIDATING SKILLS

The Imperial Capital Arena was a roaring ocean of sound. Banners representing the highest noble factions of the Nileges Empire snapped in the wind as thousands of wealthy citizens filled the stadium seats. Down on the sandy arena floor, the atmosphere was thick with tension. This tournament wasn't just a sport—it was a display of absolute genetic dominance.Every noble and royal bloodline present possessed generations of inherited mastery. The House of Ignis commanded devastating fire magic, the Frost Knights moved with an absolute-zero freezing sword style, and the Royal Guard utilized a blinding, light-speed thrust technique passed down through centuries of secret scrolls. If a noble was a mage, they possessed flawless elemental control. If they were a swordsman, they possessed a refined, textbook fighting style.Then there was Eren.Standing in the dim, stone corridors of the competitors' preparation hall, Eren looked down at his own hands. As a boy from the countryside slums, he didn't have an ancient family crest. He didn't have a private tutor, a secret library, or a legendary martial arts style passed down by his ancestors.If you don't own a fighting style, Eren thought, a familiar gamer smirk spreading across his face as his golden eyes flashed, you just have to steal one. Or better yet—make your own.He stepped up to the heavy iron viewing grate that overlooked the underground training hall. Below him, the top noble prodigies of the Empire were warming up, foolishly showing off their prized family techniques to intimidate one another.To a normal person, their movements were a blur of terrifying speed and complex mana circulation. But Eren wasn't normal. He possessed the vessel of an Angel and the unique, profound job of the Magic Swordsman, granted by the War God himself.He activated his passive sensory skills, focusing his mind the exact way he used to analyze enemy attack patterns in Skills Matters.To his left, a high-ranking noble heir from the Gale Crest was practicing a wind-attribute sword style, his blade cutting through the air so fast it created sonic booms. Eren watched the way the boy shifted his weight, the way his mana flowed from his core down into his wrist.Ding.A sudden, sharp chime rang directly inside Eren's mind, a phantom system interface flashing before his eyes:[Skill Analysis Complete. Unique Style Detected: 'Zephyr's Swift Edge'.][Magic Swordsman Passive Activated: 'Absolute Adaptability'. Copying movements...]Eren blinked. The noble boy's complex, lifetime-trained sword movements suddenly felt like basic muscle memory to him.He turned his gaze to the center of the hall, where a royal prince was infusing his blade with volatile lightning magic, executing a heavy, devastating counter-stance that shattered a solid iron training dummy.Ding.[Unique Style Detected: 'Imperial Thunderclap Stance'. Copying mana pathways...]One by one, Eren stood at the grate and watched the elite of the empire train. He watched the fluid, flowing water-style deflections of the northern nobles. He watched the heavy, unbreakable earth-style guards of the mountain lords. Within minutes, his unique Magic Swordsman job had completely broken down, analyzed, and perfectly memorized every single secret technique the nobility possessed.But Eren didn't just want to copy them. He wanted to break the game.Closing his eyes, Eren drew his rusted village sword. He breathed in deeply, letting the heavy, divine battle aura of Alexus surge through his veins. In his mind's eye, he took the speed of the wind style, the raw power of the lightning stance, and the fluid defense of the water style, crushing them all together into a brand-new, chaotic, and completely unpredictable martial art."Hey! Slum rat!"A loud, mocking voice shattered his focus. Eren opened his eyes to see a towering noble swordsman covered in polished silver armor, surrounded by a group of laughing sycophants. The crest on his chest belonged to the House of Volkan—masters of the explosive flame blade."The first match is about to begin, and you're standing here shivering with a piece of junk iron," the noble sneered, drawing a gleaming, ruby-encrusted longsword that automatically radiated heat. "Enjoy your five minutes of fame, peasant. If you cross paths with my flame style in the arena, I'll make sure your silver wings are burned to ash."Eren slowly sheared his rusted sword back into its makeshift scabbard. He adjusted the modern-looking gold chains around his neck, looking the giant noble up and down with an expression of pure, unbothered boredom."Your flame style, huh?" Eren said, his spiky blonde hair catching the torchlight as a cocky, gyaru-style grin spread across his face. "Thanks for the preview. It looked pretty cool from up here. Let's see if you can handle it when I use it better than you do."Before the noble could process the insult, the heavy horn of the arena sounded, signaling the start of the tournament. The massive iron gates leading to the main stage slowly began to grind open, letting in a blinding wall of sunlight and the roar of a stadium waiting to be entertained.Eren didn't look back. He walked straight down the tunnel and out into the light, ready to show the entire empire what happens when a slum-born Angel rewrites the rules of combat.