The glass fist came down.
Ian barely moved in time.
BOOM.
The arena floor shattered beneath him.
He rolled across the cracked surface, his sword scraping against the ground as he forced himself upright.
The glass figure stood above him.
It had grown.
What had once resembled a distorted imitation of his father was now something enormous, towering over the arena like a monument carved from every doubt Ian had ever carried.
Its body was translucent, jagged, and constantly changing.
Spikes erupted from its shoulders.
Then its arms.
Then its back.
They continued growing, piercing through the arena walls and spreading into the darkness beyond.
The Free Abyss trembled.
Ian stared at it.
His sword was still in his hand.
But it felt different.
Heavier.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The glass Ghoul raised one enormous arm.
"Why are you still fighting?"
Ian's eyes narrowed.
The question sounded simple.
It wasn't.
The Ghoul swung.
Ian ducked.
A wave of glass spikes erupted from the ground behind him.
He jumped.
Another spike shot toward his chest.
Horizon Slash.
The blade moved.
The imagined slash appeared in space and severed the spike before it could reach him.
Ian landed.
His breathing was becoming heavier.
The Ghoul smiled.
"You keep fighting."
Another attack.
Ian blocked.
The impact sent him sliding backward.
"Why?"
Ian gritted his teeth.
He swung.
Horizon Slash.
The slash carved across the creature's chest.
A massive crack appeared.
Then sealed itself.
The Ghoul laughed.
"To survive?"
Ian froze.
A fist slammed into him.
He flew across the arena.
His back collided with a wall.
"Or..."
The Ghoul's voice followed him.
"...to prove your father wrong?"
Ian's eyes widened.
The glass creature advanced.
"Is that why you chose Avia?"
Ian pushed himself up.
"Is that why you accepted your affinity?"
Another step.
"Is that why you climbed?"
Another.
"Initiate."
The creature's body expanded.
"Adept."
More spikes emerged.
"Ascended."
The arena shook.
Ian's grip tightened.
"What's next?"
The Ghoul leaned closer.
"Why do you need another tier?"
Ian said nothing.
"What are you trying to gain?"
Silence.
"More power?"
The glass creature's voice became quieter.
"More awareness?"
Ian's sword trembled.
"Recognition?"
His Avia flickered.
A tiny golden spark appeared around his body.
Then vanished.
Ian stared at his hand.
"No..."
The Ghoul smiled.
"You're beginning to understand."
Its body expanded again.
The spikes spreading from its back pierced through the arena.
They continued outward.
Through the walls.
Through the surrounding labyrinth.
Their sharp points erupted from distant surfaces like a forest of crystal.
Somewhere far away, other voices went silent.
Charles looked up.
Kennedy stopped moving.
Both felt the same pressure.
A distant, violent surge of Avian energy.
Charles narrowed his eyes.
"That's Ian."
Kennedy looked toward the direction of the sound.
"He's fighting something."
Another enormous crack echoed through the labyrinth.
Kennedy took a step.
Charles stopped him.
"We shouldn't interfere."
Kennedy frowned.
"What?"
Charles stared at the distant fractures.
"Whatever he's fighting..."
He paused.
"...it's something he needs to beat himself."
Back in the arena—
Ian's knees finally hit the ground.
His sword slipped slightly from his fingers.
His head lowered.
The golden aura surrounding him flickered again.
And again.
The Ghoul towered above him.
"Give up."
Ian's eyes closed.
For a long moment...
Nothing happened.
No attack.
No scream.
No dramatic explosion.
Only silence.
The kind of silence that gave his own thoughts nowhere to hide.
Why was he fighting?
Was it survival?
Was it pride?
Was it because his father had called him weak?
Had everything he had done since then secretly been an argument?
Every training session.
Every battle.
Every advancement.
Every new technique.
Every tier.
Had he really been saying the same thing over and over?
"I'm not weak."
The question hurt.
Because he couldn't immediately answer.
He remembered his father.
The arena.
The arguments.
The fists.
The sword.
The words.
You're weak as glass.
Ian's fingers curled into the floor.
Maybe the Ghoul was right.
Maybe he had built his entire life around proving that sentence wrong.
Maybe Avia was simply another weapon in that argument.
Maybe the tiers were just another ladder he could climb so that one day he could stand above the person who once stood above him.
His Avia flickered.
The golden light around him almost disappeared.
The Ghoul grew larger.
Its body expanded into the ceiling.
Glass spikes continued spreading throughout the labyrinth.
The entire structure groaned.
The Ghoul whispered again.
"Give up."
Ian lowered his head.
His sword rested beside him.
His knees remained against the ground.
Then...
A memory returned.
Not his father's voice.
His own.
He remembered the first time he used Horizon Slash.
He remembered imagining a cut where there shouldn't have been one.
He remembered his friends.
The battles.
The fear.
The laughter.
The times he had fallen.
The times he had stood again.
He remembered Eve Maid.
He remembered his mother.
He remembered the people he had fought beside.
He remembered the people he had protected.
And something became painfully obvious.
Even when he was confused...
He had still chosen.
Even when he doubted himself...
He had still moved.
Even when his father wasn't there...
He had still fought.
Ian slowly opened his eyes.
The golden light returned.
Not much.
Just a spark.
But it was steady.
The Ghoul noticed.
"What?"
Ian looked at his sword.
"I don't know."
The Ghoul's smile faded.
Ian stood.
"I don't know why I need to become stronger."
The creature stared at him.
"I don't know what the next tier is supposed to give me."
Ian picked up his sword.
"I don't know if I'll ever understand everything."
His Avia began glowing brighter.
"But I know something."
The Ghoul's expression hardened.
Ian looked directly at it.
"I chose this."
The arena trembled.
"I chose my sword."
A golden line appeared across the blade.
"I chose my friends."
The light expanded.
"I chose Avia."
The Ghoul roared.
Ian stepped forward.
"And I chose to keep fighting."
His aura exploded.
Golden light engulfed the arena.
The Ghoul screamed as its glass body expanded to compensate.
"You still haven't answered the question!"
Ian's eyes burned with conviction.
"I don't need to."
The Ghoul's spikes launched toward him.
Ian moved.
Flash Instinct.
His body disappeared between the attacks.
One spike.
Two.
Ten.
A hundred.
He moved through them.
His sword followed.
Horizon Slash.
The first wave shattered.
Another came.
Horizon Slash.
Another.
Another.
Ian continued forward.
The Ghoul grew larger.
So did Ian's aura.
The more the creature expanded, the more his Avian compression responded.
Level.
Not as a number.
Not as a measurement.
As a reflection of context.
The more overwhelming the threat became...
The more Ian's own understanding expanded.
The golden light condensed around his body.
Avian Compression.
The arena began collapsing around them.
Glass collided with steel.
Sword collided with glass.
Every impact produced a thunderous shockwave.
CRACK.
CRACK.
CRACK.
The surrounding labyrinth began breaking apart.
Far away, Charles and Kennedy watched another wall split open.
Kennedy raised an eyebrow.
"He's getting stronger."
Charles smiled faintly.
"He's getting clearer."
A massive glass spike erupted between them.
They immediately moved aside.
Charles looked at the destruction.
"...Yeah."
Back in the arena, Ian was bleeding.
His clothes were torn.
His sword was chipped.
The Ghoul was covered in cracks.
Neither stopped.
The glass creature charged.
Ian charged too.
Their weapons collided.
BOOOOOOM.
The entire arena exploded with light.
The Ghoul pushed harder.
"You'll always be weak!"
Ian pushed back.
"Maybe!"
"You'll always need to prove yourself!"
"Maybe!"
"You'll never become enough!"
Ian's eyes narrowed.
"Then I'll decide what enough means!"
The Ghoul's body cracked.
Ian's sword burned brighter.
"And it won't be you!"
The glass creature screamed.
Its entire body began collapsing inward.
Every spike converged toward Ian.
The Ghoul became a single enormous mass of glass.
Ian raised his sword.
For one final moment...
He saw himself as a child.
Standing in this same arena.
Holding a wooden sword.
Watching his father train.
Wanting nothing more than to hear:
"I'm proud of you."
Ian's eyes softened.
Then the vision changed.
His father was no longer angry.
He wasn't shouting.
He wasn't demanding anything.
He simply stood there.
Watching.
Ian smiled faintly.
"I wanted you to understand me."
The spectral image of his father remained silent.
"But..."
Ian tightened his grip.
"...you don't have to."
The apparition smiled.
Ian's eyes widened.
His father extended his hand.
Not to pull him away.
Not to stop him.
Just...
To stand beside him.
Ian reached out.
Their hands met.
And for the first time, Ian didn't feel like he was fighting against his father.
He was simply remembering him.
The Ghoul lunged.
Ian and the spectral figure raised their blades together.
Ian whispered:
"My sword is my soul."
The two figures swung.
"HORIZON SLASH."
A golden horizon tore through the arena.
The glass Ghoul split apart.
For a second...
Everything stopped.
Then—
SHATTER.
The entire creature exploded into thousands of fragments.
The spikes covering the labyrinth disappeared.
The arena fell silent.
Ian remained standing.
His sword rested against the ground.
His chest rose and fell.
The spectral image of his father stood beside him.
Ian looked over.
His father smiled.
Not the smile of the illusion.
Not the forced approval of the Ghoul.
Something quieter.
Something Ian couldn't prove was real.
But he didn't need to.
Ian smiled back.
"Goodbye, Dad."
The spectral figure slowly faded.
Ian watched until there was nothing left.
Then he looked down at his sword.
For years, he had carried it as proof.
Proof that he wasn't weak.
Proof that his father's philosophy was wrong.
Proof that he could become strong.
But now...
It was simply his sword.
And somehow...
That made it lighter.
Ian turned toward the fractured labyrinth.
Somewhere beyond those cracks were his friends.
Charles.
Kennedy.
Jack.
Yyvone.
Osei.
Sonia.
He didn't know what awaited them.
He didn't know what the next tier would bring.
He didn't know whether his father would ever have understood him.
But he knew what he was doing now.
Not proving.
Not rebelling.
Not running from weakness.
Just moving forward.
Because he wanted to.
Ian rested the sword over his shoulder.
A faint golden aura surrounded him.
"Alright."
He looked toward the darkness.
"Let's find the others."