Taking long confident strides, Marshall bolted towards the group on the Southern side. As he approached the skeleton holding the impressive tower shield, firmly planted its feet to brace itself.

The swordsman took an abrupt right turn when he was a meter away, but he soon found himself being targeted by pointed ends of spears and swords. He evaded by jumping backward, however, his senses alerted him. Twisting his body, Marshall narrowly avoided the dagger of an assassin.

Taking a safe distance, he noticed that the assailants had retreated behind the tower shield. Soon, he saw arrows race towards him, which he elegantly sidestepped. While in motion, he was targeted by a fireball. With no time for evasive maneuvers, Marshall unsheathed his sword and cleaved the flaming projectile.

Like shadows, the assassins were flanking him aiming at his vitals. Instead of parrying or engaging, he dashed towards the tower shield only to be threatened by the spearmen. Skirting between their thrusts, Marshall liberates himself from the attack and speedily approaching the second shieldman. From the right, the skeleton swordsmen attempt to veer him from his charge but to no avail

Soon arrows and fireballs and shot towards him. Using his sword, he parries or cleaves the projectiles respectively. A meter in front of the skeleton shieldman, he uses his footwork to circle. However, unlike the previous shieldman, this one turns to continuously protect the ranged skeletons.

Tch. Marshall clicks his tongue before he backs away when he is targeted again by the assassins. Within seconds they are back into formation and to make matter worse the other groups were approaching.

Marshall knew that this fight was not in his favor. The skeletons had learned to adapt to him. He was a technical fighter that focused on evasion and counters. Unwillingly, he had to admit that they were making the fights challenging. He was being forced to attack and his escape routes were being actively monitored and targeted.

Bertrand's training was the only reason why he was even alive right now. The butler had a mysterious past and had trained him until just recently due to the court case and the move. Just the thought caused various emotions to rise within his heart.

Taking a deep breath, Marshall relaxed his shoulders before closing his eyes. A scene from years ago entered his mind

After performing his early morning exercises, and cooling down, Marshall stood within a dedicated facility on his family's estate. Near him stood Bertrand in black sweatpants and a gray athletic t-shirt, that properly displayed his toned physique despite his advanced age.

"What I will show you today, Young Master is the technique that took me decades to reach an acceptable level of proficiency. To use the technique, two conditions must be met, but to master it an additional is added.

1. Knowledge
2. Willpower
3. Control

To begin, you must know that the brain places natural limiters on the body's functions mainly to ensure safety. The first step to using this technique is knowing what your safety limits are. These limits are what the brain will impose to keep the body from destroying itself. This step requires an individual to train moderately and constantly hit that mental wall known as the limit.

The second part is being able to break those limiters. This requires a great deal of willpower, as the conscious mind must override the unconscious mind. This is where most would fail. Upon achieving this step, a rudimentary form of this power is obtained, however, it is incomplete.

The condition to master the technique is complete control over one’s body. Once the limiters are removed, every action must be fully managed. No action can go unchecked. Eventually if one can achieve total control, they could even manipulate the unconscious vital functions."

Marshall shows an incredulous look. An average person would tell off the butler, but the teen did not dare doubt the words of his faithful caretaker.

"Bertrand, if you don't mind me asking. What is the name of this technique?"

With a forlorn smile, Bertrand answers, "2nd Sealed Technique: -"

"Burn Out!"

Marshall's eyes slowly opened revealing an enlarged pupil as a translucent aura seemed to be released from his body. It appeared as if the air around him was vibrating. An observe would recognize the phenomena as a heat haze.

Marshall's stance visibly relaxed, even the tip of the sword was scraping against the floor. The skeletons hesitated only for a moment before re-engaging their foe. The assassins flanked Marshall, while spearmen charged forward. 

The instant they entered his attack range, Marshall became a blur. Within seconds they had all been cleaved. The remaining skeletons barely had time to understand before the youth was upon the shieldman. Using superhuman strength, he ferociously kicked the shield sending both it and its wielder towards the backline where it crashed into the other shieldman.

Marshall swiftly sliced the skeleton swordsmen, before lunging at the remaining skeletons. The two shieldmen were much too slow to keep up with the inhuman youth and were decapitated once he maneuvered around their shields. Without protection, the mages and archers were mere wheat waiting to be culled before the harvester known as Marshall. The whole event took less than a minute to occur.

While releasing a deep breath, Marshall sprinted towards the 75 remaining skeletons. What proceeded was akin to a wolf in a pen of sheep. Unlike the fluid and expert swordsmanship that Marshall previously showed, his movements were now volatile and frenzied. Without hesitation, he cut down every single skeleton, till only a single one remained.

This time, Marshall did not pause but quickly rushed the last opponent before delivering a fiery downward slash then bisected the skeleton. As the familiar lights rose then dissipate, Marshall was lying on the floor. His skin was hot to the touch, even the breaths escaping his mouth came out like puffs of steam.

"Ha...ha...ha..."

'Burn Out' is a technique that allows the user to exceed their physical limits but at a heavy cost. Breaking the limiters causes a reaction that mimics the effects of epinephrine, commonly known as adrenaline. Heart rate increases, thereby increasing blood pressure, congruently the air passages of the lungs expand, the pupil in the eye expands, blood is redistributed to the muscles and finally, the body's metabolism is altered. Unlike the natural flight-or-fight reaction, this is a technique that can only be obtained once someone has surmounted their physical limits repeatedly. There is the added condition that these breakthroughs must not thoughtless, but a result of tempering one's will.

The recoil damage was also not something to ignore. Marshall was currently feeling the severe rebound of 'Burn Out' resulting in his pitiful state. He stayed on the floor for roughly 15 minutes before he rose to his feet and picked up the longsword. An observer could identify that certain parts of his skin were still quite red, while the majority had a bared a tinge of pink.

He dragged his feet to the center stone tablet and collapsed with his back to the structure. It wasn't long until his consciousness faded away.

An indeterminable amount of time later, Marshall groggily opened his eyes and was greeted with the same room. He had recovered from his fatigue but still felt immeasurably sore. To relieve the wear, he stretched and massaged himself until he felt confident enough to stand.

Like always the stone block had a variety of weapons barring firearms. As he blankly stared at the assortment of weapons, Marshall continued to consider the implications of this dungeon. Even calling it a dungeon seems erroneous as it did not fit even the loose terminology of the word.

[It's like someone wanted me to come here, but for what greater purpose?]

*Click*

The sound alerted Marshall, who was wholeheartedly expecting another wave of skeletons but what happened next thwarted those expectations. The four doors all opened, but from the southern, eastern, and western gate particles of green light rushed out and flooded into the open northern gate. In fact, even the light in the room seemed to be pulled into the northern gate. After 5 minutes, this phenomenon concluded, and the result was a green portal of some kind harboring within the northern gate.

Before Marshall could even process what was occurring, he felt the ground trembling and realized that the room was collapsing on itself. He swiftly placed his longsword for the last enhancement, then sprinted towards the green portal. He unhesitatingly jumped through and felt a sensation similar to being submerged underwater but denser. As he exited the portal he managed to land upright.

The room he found himself in was much smaller than the last at about 25 meters in width and length but with the same 100-meter-tall ceilings. The room was made from a much darker stone and was dimly lit. On the walls were runic writings that glowed an eerie green light. But all of this paled to the 3-meter-tall skeleton leisurely sitting in the impressive obsidian throne at the furthest end of the room.

As Marshall took a few steps forward the writings on the wall started to brighten, and a trembling sound could be heard from the obsidian throne. Within the skeleton eye sockets, a deathly green fire sparked, until the flame expanded and covered the undead. As the flames died down, Marshall raised an eyebrow at the skeleton's drastic change in appearance. While it still had its bone body, it was now adorned in kingly attire. On its head sat a golden crown with emeralds and most of its clothes were black with flares and embroideries of Bothe gold and green. In its right hand is a completely black longsword with a golden cross-guard, grip, and pommel. In the pommel, was a dazzling emerald. The blade radiated a golden and green color.

"Welcome."

A deep voice that contained the sweet embrace of death came out from the skeleton king.

"..."

"I am the Immortal King, and this is your first trial, chosen one. To pass, there is only one condition, survive."

"!"

"Prepare yourself."

[...F-]

In a lobby of a luxurious skyscraper, a well-dressed, middle-aged man with silky black hair that contained streaks of silver, with a toned physique and a handsome face couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows.

[My link with Young Master has been severed, hmm. What could have happened?]

"Sir is something of the matter?"

A secretary respectfully asked the middle-aged man that had randomly stopped.

"No, please escort me to your employer."

"Of course, sir."

With that, they continued to an elevator before ascending towards the upper floors.

[I hope you stay safe Young Master.]

saturrn

First, I apologize for not posting in quite a while. I had a bevy of personal matters to resolve. Second, I would like to formally say that this novel will be released on a twice-a-week schedule. Thank you for your continued support and for the time you took out of your day to read my work. Later.