Chapter 392: Alchemy-Based Menace

Dahlia and the others stood frozen for a moment, all of them staring at the arena.

“…What the hell,” Dahlia muttered.

Valtor’s jaw tightened. “Since when can she fight like that?”

Rynor rubbed his face. “That wasn’t even technique. She just grabbed him.”

Rynar crossed his arms slowly. “And used him as a weapon.”

Seira narrowed her eyes. “That strength didn’t come from nowhere.”

Arden nodded, pushing his glasses up slightly. “It has to be the four potions she drank.”

He looked thoughtful. “Her body didn’t react like ours would.”

Rovric frowned. “So her unique physique…”

“…must be related to potions,” Arden finished. “Or more accurately, to absorbing them.”

Dahlia clicked her tongue softly. “Great.”

She glanced toward the arena, where Mersha was still smiling like she was having fun.

“Please remind me later,” Dahlia said flatly, “never to provoke her.”

Clara leaned closer. “This is only after four potions.”

Her eyes widened. “What if she drank ten?”

“That’s impossible,” Clara continued quickly. “There have to be side effects. Nobody can handle that much.”

Dion, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke.

“I don’t think that applies to her.”

Everyone turned to him.

Dion shrugged. “My unique physique, [Wine], lets me grow stronger by drinking wine. It boosts the good effects and cuts down the bad ones.”

He smiled faintly. “Mersha’s physique is probably similar. Except instead of wine…”

“…it’s potions,” Dahlia said.

Dion nodded. “And not normal ones. Hers are insane.”

Arden frowned. “That would explain the taste.”

“Exactly,” Dion replied. “She designs them to be as strong as possible, with little side effect and just a worse experience.”

Valtor shuddered. “So the worse it tastes…”

“The better it works,” Dion finished. “And Mersha was trained to drink poison.”

Seira’s lips tightened. “So for us, that taste is torture.”

“But for her,” Dion said calmly, “it’s probably just… normal.”

Silence fell again.

Dahlia let out a slow breath. “…So basically.”

She watched Mersha casually crack her knuckles while Silvar climbed back to his feet.

“For now,” Dahlia said, “she has the highest potential among us.”

No one argued.

They all just frowned, realizing the same thing.

The girl who spent all her time in the lab might be the scariest fighter in the God Gym.

Not far from the disciples, Eldrin, Rachel, Bastor, and Varyn had clearly overheard the conversation.

Eldrin’s gentle expression shifted slightly. “So that is how they see her.”

Rachel blinked, eyes still fixed on the arena. “I… I never imagined it would look like this.”

Bastor folded his arms, his voice short and firm. “Power is power. Method doesn’t matter.”

Varyn tilted her head, watching Mersha carefully. “It’s fascinating.”

At that moment, Garion stood a few steps away, staring openly.

His eyes were wide.

His mouth was slightly open.

Rachel noticed and turned to him. “Garion…?”

She hesitated, then smiled softly. “You look more shocked than the children.”

Garion slowly rubbed his face. “Yeah. I didn’t expect this.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t?”

He shook his head. “Not to this level.”

He watched Mersha grab another incoming attack like it was nothing, her expression still relaxed.

“I knew she was special,” Garion continued. “I knew her physique was weird. I knew her tolerance was insane.”

He exhaled. “But seeing it applied in actual combat like this…”

Rachel laughed quietly. “You sound proud.”

Garion smirked. “I am.”

He crossed his arms, posture relaxing again. “This just proves one thing.”

Bastor glanced at him. “Your path.”

Garion nodded. “Yeah. The God Physique Cultivation Path.”

He chuckled. “It’s not just about muscles or endurance. It creates room for freak cases.”

Varyn nodded slowly. “Unique adaptability.”

“Exactly,” Garion said. “People like Dahlia. Like Dion. And now Mersha.”

Rachel looked thoughtful. “So this path doesn’t force people into the same shape.”

“No,” Garion replied. “It lets them become what they’re best at.”

He watched as Silvar stumbled back again, clearly struggling to understand what was happening.

Garion’s grin widened.

“There are going to be more cases like this,” he said calmly. “More monsters. Just… different kinds.”

—

Back in the arena, Silvar finally snapped.

A low growl rolled out of his throat as his body twisted and expanded.

Fur burst outward, muscles swelling, bones shifting without restraint.

In an instant, he was no longer in a humanoid shape.

The true White Tiger stood there.

The same terrifying form he once ruled the island with.

The ground beneath his paws cracked.

Silvar himself froze for half a second.

“…So this is it,” he muttered. “This body…”

He clenched his claws, feeling the power surge through every limb.

“I’m stronger than before.”

His eyes locked onto Mersha.

“You’re done.”

A sharp pressure swept across the arena.

[Judgement]

The moment the skill activated, Mersha felt it.

A clear, unmistakable lock.

She was the target.

Silvar’s aura exploded outward, his power rising sharply as everything focused on a single point… her.

His right claw changed, metal-like plates forming over it, growing larger and heavier with each breath.

[Giant Metal Claw]

The claw came down, tearing through the air, aimed straight at Mersha.

On the side, Cindor hovered lazily in the air, arms crossed. “Welp,” she said casually, “he finally stopped playing.”

She drifted farther away. “Have fun.”

The claw descended.

Mersha didn’t move.

She just smiled.

“Wow,” she said cheerfully. “That’s a really big claw.”

Her hand slipped into her robe again.

“Perfect timing.”

She pulled out a small bottle filled with swirling azure liquid and popped the cork without hesitation.

Then she drank it.

Dahlia’s eyes widened. “Another one?”

Garion’s eyebrow twitched. “Azure…?”

Mersha smacked her lips. “Oh, that’s good.”

She looked up at the incoming claw, excitement lighting her eyes.

“Alright,” she said, bouncing lightly on her feet. “Let’s test this one.”

The azure liquid spread through her body, veins faintly glowing as something shifted deep inside her.

She raised her head, smiling straight at the descending claw.

“Come on,” Mersha said brightly. “Let’s see how hard you hit.”

The claw was only a heartbeat away.

And the arena held its breath.

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