"Well, Luke? Not bad, right?" Milo grinned.


"Definitely not bad." Lucas nodded. "You sure no one comes here?"


"Positive. It's out in the boonies. Been abandoned for who knows how long," Milo assured him.


Lucas walked inside. Grass was sprouting through the cracks in the cement, but the ground was level and the space was wide open. It was perfect.


"So, Luke," Milo said, eyeing the long black case on Lucas's back. "Is that the weapon?"


Lucas set the ebony box down on the concrete and unlatched the lid.


"Is that... the Sky Halberd!?" Milo's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull as he stared at the contents of the box.


[Shock from Milo: +10 Credits]


Lucas stared blankly at his friend. Seriously? Milo was basically a walking ATM for points. The guy was startled by everything. Last time, he'd freaked out so hard he triggered a 'Super Shock' bonus and handed Lucas a cool hundred credits.


Lucas crouched down and snapped the two halves of the Sky Halberd together. It clicked into place—a massive, menacing polearm.


"I love this kind of hardware," Lucas said, admiring the weight. "Big, bold, and totally unstoppable."


"It looks insanely heavy, though." Milo had calmed down enough to look skeptical. A weapon like that required elite skills; your average fighter wouldn't even be able to lift it, let alone swing it.


"Nah, it's not that bad." Lucas shook his head. His arm strength had leveled up significantly over the last few weeks. He gave the heavy halberd a few experimental swings, cutting the air with a low whoosh. It felt natural.


He glanced at Milo. "You wanna try?"


"For real?" Milo's face lit up.


Lucas nodded and held the shaft out. Milo reached for it eagerly, but the second Lucas let go, gravity took over.


Milo's eyes bugged out. The sheer weight of the halberd crushed him instantly, sending him stumbling forward until he face-planted into the dirt.


[Super Shock from Milo: +100 Credits]


Lucas grinned. Cha-ching. Milo was way too easy.


"You good, man?"


Milo groaned, scrambling out from under the weapon. He dusted off his clothes and stood up, looking betrayed.


"That thing is way too heavy..." Milo complained, eyeing the Sky Halberd where it lay gleaming in the sunlight. He shot Lucas a resentful glare. "Luke, you totally lied to me."


Lucas felt a little awkward under the stare. "Cough... well, it's not heavy to me. It's only like, a hundred and ten pounds."


Lucas casually bent down and scooped the weapon back up with one hand.


Only a hundred and ten pounds? Milo's jaw dropped.


[Super Shock from Milo: +100 Credits]


Lucas checked the notification floating in his vision. Nice. At this rate, Milo was going to single-handedly fund his next upgrade. His balance was sitting pretty at 14,555 Credits.


"I'm... I'm just gonna practice my Five-Step Fist routine," Milo muttered, looking at Lucas like he was some kind of monster. A teenager swinging a hundred-pound blade like it was a baseball bat? That wasn't normal.


Lucas ignored the stare and took a deep breath. He tightened his grip and began to move.


The Sky Halberd roared as he swung it, slicing through the air with terrifying speed. Because his Basic Halberd Mastery was already at the 'Skilled' stage, the movements flowed smoothly. But against real threats, 'Skilled' wasn't enough. He needed to be 'Proficient.'


He flicked his eyes to the semi-transparent System interface. Finally, a small (+) sign had appeared next to Basic Halberd Mastery. It hadn't been there yesterday.


[Consume 10,000 Credits to upgrade to Proficient?]


Lucas hesitated for a split second—that was a lot of cash—but he gritted his teeth and mentally hit Accept.


If your foundation was trash, learning fancy high-level Combat Arts later wouldn't matter. You had to build the base.


The upgrade hit him instantly. As the skill shifted to 'Proficient,' the weapon suddenly felt like an extension of his own arm. The weight made sense; the balance was perfect.


He spun the halberd and lashed out at a concrete block jutting out of the ruins—an old foundation reinforced with steel rebar.


CRACK!


The horizontal slash sheared right through the concrete and steel, slicing the block cleanly in half.


[Super Shock from Milo: +100 Credits]


Milo stared, his eyes glazed over. The power was ridiculous.


"No good," Lucas muttered to himself, leaning on the shaft. He was already panting, his face pale and forehead slick with sweat. "My strength and stamina can't keep up."


The Sky Halberd was a beast, but it drained him dry. In a real fight, if an enemy blocked his first few hits, Lucas would gas out, leaving him wide open. And after seeing the horrors inside the Dimensional Rift, Lucas knew he couldn't afford to be weak. He needed more power. Fast.


"Two little runts..."


High above them, perched on the roof of a dilapidated factory building, a middle-aged man watched them. He had a jagged scar near the corner of his eye—the same man Lucas had passed on the street earlier without realizing.


The man stared down at Lucas and Milo, his eyes cold and filled with killing intent.


"A Sky Halberd?" The man sneered, watching Lucas gasp for air. "What kind of Martial Warrior uses a clumsy thing like that? Kids playing dress-up. That's all they are."


Whoever was watching from the shadows knew one thing for sure: that Sky Halberd wasn't made of scrap metal.


The hidden observer narrowed his eyes. He recalled that the kid, Lucas, had ordered a shipment from the Warrior Alliance Mall recently. As he stared at the boy, a surge of murderous greed washed over him.


In the clearing, Lucas paused mid-swing. The massive Sky Halberd froze in the air. He felt a sudden prickle on the back of his neck—a sixth sense warning him of danger. He whipped around, scanning the area behind him.


Nothing. His eyes swept the park, but there wasn't a soul in sight.


"Luke, what's wrong?" Milo asked, pausing his own practice to look at his friend curiously.


"Nothing." Lucas shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling. Maybe I'm just seeing things.




Meanwhile, at the Lancaster Police Department.


"Chief, any news?"


Gordon stood in the main office, looking expectantly at Chief Xavier Wright.


"We're scrubbing the surveillance feeds right now." Xavier paced back and forth, looking like a caged animal.


They were hunting a Class D Fugitive nicknamed Scar. He was a Quasi-Tier 2 Warrior who had fled to Lancaster. Scar was already a fully realized Tier 1 Warrior, but breaking through to the next level required expensive Elixirs. To fund his addiction, Scar had turned to contract killing.


Even a Tier 1 Warrior possessed destructive power that normal humans couldn't comprehend. That was why the government kept such a tight leash on them. If a Martial Warrior decided to break bad, people died.


"A Peak Tier 1 Warrior..." Gordon frowned, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "His skin and flesh will be fully Tempered. He's practically bulletproof. The threat to civilians is massive."


Gordon knew he could take Scar down in a fair fight, but catching him was the problem. The guy was like a rat in a sewer—hard to find and harder to corner.


"Keep widening the search," Xavier barked. "We need his location, now!"