Novel & Cerita Oblivion Destruction Training

"That's when you record everything. Not just the offer—the methodology. The pattern. Get him to explain how he does it. How he's done it before. Appeal to his ego. Let him think he's teaching you something. Men like Shaw love to explain how clever they are." I looked at the folder, at the evidence of forty years of destruction. At the faces in the photos—designers I'd admired, careers I'd seen collapse, women I'd thought had simply failed. They hadn't failed. They'd been destroyed. Systematically. By a predator who'd been operating unchecked for decades. "I'll do it," I said. "But not just for me. For all of them. For every designer he destroyed."

Bind your targets: 0/100 Hunt your targets and defeat them as follows: Dismemberment- 0/100 Decapitation- 0/100 Splitting in Two- 0/100 Freestyle- 0/300 (Same as before, no more than 10 targets of the same name will count to this score) *Defeat Weapon Master Bladesmith's Clone: 0/1 (Combat will take place deep within the . The clone will be at level 25 and will only use its claws. Escape condition is to make it through the are and get to the door where Bladesmith will be standing in one piece)

He glanced at me, his expression one of impatient contempt. “Well?” he demanded. “I’ve decided,” I said, my voice flat, devoid of the tremor that had been there before. “The weak Omega is dead.” A slow, approving smile spread across his face. “Good. Then it’s time for your next lesson. No more speeches. No more grandstanding.” He leaned in close. “It’s time for you to learn how to truly hurt him.” The following days were a descent into a different kind of darkness. The training was no longer about rhetoric or poise. It was about sabotage. Espionage. Psychological warfare.

Those who had slandered me, those who had hurt me, and those who had once mocked me had all turned to dust in this disaster. Inside the hospital room, the protective barrier had vanished. The storm outside swept in, carrying debris and scorching heat from the lava, and blew Dean’s hair into a mess. He was still holding my hand tightly, but his body was becoming increasingly transparent, as if he could vanish at any moment. System: [Vitality sacrifice still in progress! Host’s vitality lost: 100%. Soul disintegration countdown initiated!] [World Self-Destruction Countdown: 10 seconds… 9… 8…]

The difference was visible enough to everyone, even the normal citizen realizes the difference. No more scrawny and disorder soldier's, Every soldier that joined the training were different as they set out from the training program. Aeternum Trainer was able to change the ferocity of the Dukedom army from Threat Level 1 into Threat Level 3, an achievement that was proven as The soldier were able to conquer and destroyed 10 Threat Level 3 dungeons in 2 weeks. The unruly and doubtful voices in the Royal audience chamber at the Palace of Angel were no longer heard, instead, showers of praise were given to the Queen and Princess Angela dubbing their genius moves. In less than a month, Aeternum h

James thought seriously. However, he was not allowed to think further as he saw the training building that he and the rest of the Ans De Lou residents had taken shelter in earlier blown up by the enemy. James glared in shock, seemingly unable to do anything but stare at the building that held so many memories. The building was completely destroyed with the flames still raging. James' teeth chattered with anger, seeing not only the training building destroyed, but also an armory. "No. Evan De Kruk doesn't just want to kill me or Riley, he ... wants to destroy Ans De Lou's military," James muttered with reddened eyes.

Tristan screamed. The white light consumed him. He became a beacon on the front of the train. He didn't just drain the field. He reached out with a tendril of pure negation and touched the gate’s power core from a hundred yards away. OBLIVION. The force field didn't just turn off. The generator exploded. The feedback loop shattered the physical plasteel gate, turning it into a cloud of shrapnel. The Last Rites plowed through the debris cloud. Shards of plastic and metal pinged off the boiler. Tristan and Saoirse ducked low, shielding their heads.

Especially when the creators of the original code were still out there. We spent the afternoon moving through the Citadel, a ritual we called the System Walk. We visited the training pits where Caleb was leading a group of young Betas. In the old world, these sessions were brutal, bloody affairs. Now, they were a dance of precision. Caleb moved with a fluidity that was almost digital, his movements guided by a Sub-Routine of draconic logic that I had quietly installed into the pack’s training manuals.

I was the Beta of Timber, and though I could never fight a battle for Mylo, I had to be capable of defending against any other Alpha. Worst-case scenario training became a regular thing here after Octavia was abducted. Specialized trackers, tactical and field medic training, as well as information gathering which boiled down to torture methods. Our elite guards were highly trained in their specialized field and days like today were used to assess our current guards, see who has potential and in what area for when we move up the next round of guards.

I didn't let that surprise go to waste, and I pushed forward, my movements sharp and efficient as I hacked into the gap they’d left in their line. I finally understood why Liam had made training compulsory for me back then, and I honestly couldn't thank him more in this moment. The hours of repetitive drills and the bruises that had once covered my ribs were the only reason I was still breathing, and I felt a grim sense of satisfaction as I decimated the rogues who tried to close in. They were bigger than me, some of them twice my weight with muscles like corded rope, but they were clumsy and driven by a frantic hunger that made them predictable. I moved between them like a needle through fa