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Arlon didn't hesitate. He pressed his advantage, stepping forward, his sword raised—

But then, something stopped him.

A realization.

As he looked down at her, bleeding, weakened, forced into a defensive stance—he felt something shift.

The gap between them wasn't the same anymore.

That overwhelming pressure from before—the sheer weight of her presence—wasn't as suffocating. It was still there, but it no longer felt impossible to overcome.

We're at the same level now.

The thought hit him like a shockwave.

Before, he had been so far beneath her that he couldn't even see her level.

But now, after forcing her to take actual damage—after bringing her down to a weakened state—he could feel it.

They were equals now.

Arlon exhaled sharply, tightening his grip on his sword.

This fight had just become winnable.

---

Arlon's breath was steady, but his heart pounded like a war drum.

The fight had shifted in his favor, but it wasn't over yet. The boss was still dangerous—if she recovered, she could turn things around instantly.

She flicked her fingers, summoning another attack.

Strange, glowing strands of an unknown element began swirling around her, condensing into an orb in her palm.

Arlon didn't wait to see what it was.

He activated Portal.

It was a spell he had created. His second strongest creation.

But, unfortunately, it wasn't an actual portal. No matter how much he tried, Arlon couldn't shape the spatial magic into a rift.

So, he copied the goal of the spell. A combination of Teleport, Dash, Haste, and Slow.

Instantly, his entire body lurched forward.

A rush of momentum surged through him, unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

He dashed forward, only to suddenly teleport mid-step—without stopping.

Unlike Blink, which halted all movement upon arrival, Teleport let him keep his speed; that was the reason he didn't use Blink.

He had used Blink to kill the momentum the previous time he was climbing the Tower, against a boss.

He used Haste on himself while using Slow on the ground like before.

It was the closest he had ever come to creating a true portal, and even though it wasn't an actual spatial rift, it felt like one.

He shot forward like a blur, teleporting mid-stride, appearing behind the boss without losing a single ounce of momentum.

The boss's eyes widened.

For the first time in this fight, she couldn't react in time.

She needed to stop every time she blinked since it killed momentum.

Arlon's sword slashed forward, its colorful glow painting the air with streaks of light. He aimed straight for her back—

She barely managed to twist away, but the blade still caught her shoulder, slicing another deep wound.

Dark blood splattered across the floor.

Arlon didn't stop.

He cast Portal again. His body blurred as he dashed, teleported, dashed again—moving unpredictably from every angle.

Unlike the boss, who stopped after every blink, he was a constant force, a relentless storm of motion.

He wasn't the only one using Portal, his copies also joined him.

She swung her staff wildly, trying to predict where they would appear next. But she was always just a fraction too slow.

Arlon weaved between attacks like a phantom, flickering in and out of existence, appearing behind her, then above, then at her side.

His sword struck again, slicing into her leg, then her side, then her arm.

With each teleport, he forced her further back, disrupting her rhythm.

Finally, she screamed—a sharp, echoing sound that made the entire battlefield tremble.

Her body pulsed with energy. The strange element around her exploded outward, forcing Arlon to teleport away at the last second.

The shockwave sent his two doppelgangers flying, shattering one of them instantly.

When the dust cleared, the boss was panting. Her dark robes were stained with blood.

But she was still standing.

She lifted her staff, her eyes burning with fury.

Arlon knew what was coming next.

Her strongest spell.

He could feel the mana gathering around her, warping the very air itself.

It was time.

His last trump card.

A time magic attack that could work even against someone who resisted basic time manipulation.

A spell he had spent two years perfecting.

A spell that defied all logic.

He raised his free hand, fingers twisting into a complex motion.

The spell's name?

Rewind Slash.

A technique that fused time magic with his swordsmanship.

Instead of trying to speed up or slow down time—which the boss had proven resistant to—this spell manipulated cause and effect.

As long as he landed a strike, the spell would force that exact moment to repeat itself.

A guaranteed second hit.

No matter how strong she was, no matter how fast she reacted, she would be hit twice for every successful attack.

It wasn't as powerful as true time reversal or time stop, but in a fight where every opening mattered, it was devastating.

And the best part was that Arlon's copies were also Arlon, so their attack also caused.

So, when he activated the skill, the boss's body was slashed again. All the attacks that connected before repeated themselves.

Her eyes widened in shock.

The pain of two identical strikes landing in the same spot was too much—she staggered, unable to focus.

Arlon activated Portal once more.

His body flickered, moving faster than ever before. He dashed, teleported, dashed again—

And then, he struck.

His sword sliced straight across the boss's torso.

Blood sprayed into the air—

And then, the spell activated.

Time snapped back an instant.

The same moment repeated itself.

Arlon's sword struck again, following the exact same trajectory, hitting the exact same wound before she could react.

Arlon didn't stop.

He struck again.

And again, Rewind Slash forced the attack to repeat.

Her body convulsed as each successful blow turned into two. The damage doubled every time, forcing her to her knees.

She tried to blink away—

But Arlon was faster.

His Portal spell carried him right beside her again.

One final slash.

Rewind Slash activated.

She was hit once—

Then hit again.

The second strike was the finishing blow.

The boss let out a silent gasp.

Her staff slipped from her fingers.

Then, with one final breath, she collapsed.