I Killed The Game's Protagonist-Chapter 54: Try Them On

The chamber pulsed with residual magic — stale incense, dark glyphs flickering across the stone walls, and a low hum that reverberated beneath Noah’s boots. He stood near the edge of the ritual circle, holding up a peculiar pair of round-lensed glasses.

They gleamed faintly in the low light, the artifact’s enchantments waiting to be activated.

Across from him, Saphielle hovered just above the cracked floor, her boots nearly silent against the stone. Draped in layered black garments, her silhouette looked like it had stepped straight from a funeral procession. Her jet-black hair cascaded past her shoulders, framing a pale face and eyes like polished obsidian — void of light, yet keenly observant.

Noah tilted his head and offered the glasses with a faint grin. His own black hair was tousled and wild, the crimson glow in his eyes catching the flicker of torchlight like coals beneath the ash.

"You don’t want to try these on?" he asked, voice playful. "With your aesthetic, they’d look... I don’t know. Kind of hot."

Saphielle blinked slowly, unimpressed. "Hot?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. You’ve got that whole... dark queen vibe. Add glasses, and it’s a deadly scholar look. Intimidating, in a weirdly attractive way."

Still nothing.

"C’mon, just for a second? It’s a good look. Might be your best one yet." He dangled the glasses with one hand, smiling.

"Or are you afraid you’ll actually look cute?"

A flick of her hand was the only reply. A bolt of necrotic energy — violet and black, pulsing with rot — launched toward him in a flash.

Noah casually stepped aside. The magic slammed into a stone column behind him, erupting in a burst of black ash and shattered debris.

He sighed, brushing dust off his shoulder.

"Guess that’s a no." He tucked the glasses back into his coat with a mock frown. "Shame. They really would’ve suited you."

Saphielle finally touched down, black boots echoing against the floor. The runes etched into her arms glowed faintly, and the temperature in the room began to drop. Shadows around her stirred unnaturally.

Noah’s grin faded just a little as his stance shifted.

The fun part was over.

The runes at Saphielle’s feet flared.

A guttural chant escaped her lips, and the ground trembled in response. Cracks tore through the blackened stone, and from the darkness beneath, bony fingers clawed upward — one after another.

Within seconds, a dozen skeletal warriors emerged, clattering as they dragged rusted weapons and broken shields into the dim light. Their sockets burned with dull green flames, locked onto Noah as their singular target.

Noah exhaled through his nose and rolled his shoulders.

"Twelve of you, huh?" he muttered. "Could’ve made it a nice round twenty."

The skeletons charged without hesitation. Noah’s legs pulsed with sudden force — veins glowing faintly as his augmentations kicked in. His muscles tensed, and in a blur of motion, he dashed forward into the swarm.

He ducked beneath the first blade, twisted, and slammed his elbow into a ribcage, scattering bones across the floor. Another skeletal warrior lunged; Noah caught the rusted sword mid-swing and ripped it from its grip with a grin.

’Light, rusted, just long enough... Perfect.’

He gripped the weapon in both hands and whispered to himself.

"Crescent Fang."

A surge of power ignited through his body — legs and wrists burning with boosted momentum. In an instant, he launched into a diagonal dash, slashing the air with unnatural speed.

A pale arc of light shimmered behind him like a moon-shaped claw. Three skeletons were sliced apart before their magic-bound bones could react.

Noah landed in a crouch, chest rising. The strain in his arms ached already — his body still not used to channeling the techniques this fast — but he couldn’t stop.

A sharp screech came from behind. Another skeleton swung low.

Noah vanished in a shimmer.

"Gibbous Step."

An afterimage took the blow, flickering with silver mist. The real Noah reappeared to the left, behind two of the undead, and brought the sword down with vicious efficiency.

Two more collapsed, their bones rolling in pieces across the floor.

From her perch on the platform, Saphielle watched in silence — eyes still black, lips curling into a slow smirk.

"You’re fast," she muttered.

Noah stood in the middle of a circle of broken remains. Five skeletons still surrounded him, approaching more carefully now.

He adjusted his grip on the stolen blade and raised an eyebrow at her.

"You’ve seen nothing yet."

Noah’s breaths came in sharp, controlled bursts, sweat glistening on his temple as he readjusted the grip on the skeletal blade. The five remaining skeletons circled like starving wolves, bone-claws scraping the blood-stained floor with every calculated step.

Above them, Saphielle extended her hand with the poise of a conductor preparing the next movement of a symphony.

"Let’s see how long that little act holds up..." she whispered.

The runes beneath her shimmered again — not with necrotic decay this time, but a softer, more insidious violet. A halo of shadow and illusion bloomed at her feet, and her pitch-black eyes flickered with dark delight.

Noah flinched. His surroundings began to shift — subtly at first.

The hall dimmed.

The stone under his boots rippled, turning soft and organic, like living flesh. The air grew thick, heavy with the coppery stench of fresh blood. The pillars twisted into clawed hands reaching down from above.

Illusion magic.

Then he saw it — a younger version of himself, kneeling, cradling a small girl soaked in crimson.

Her face was blurred. But her crying...

It sounded familiar.

"Why did you let me die...?" the younger Noah muttered, voice trembling, eyes blank.

Noah’s heart pounded. A wave of guilt, cold and suffocating, slammed into him like a blade to the chest. His grip loosened. He took a step back.

"No... this isn’t real."

Whispers echoed through the air — not from outside, but from inside his head. Every memory, every regret, twisted and thrown at him with surgical cruelty.

"She’s targeting my mind." He gritted his teeth. "Smart... but not enough."

The illusion shattered like glass.

The younger version of himself crumbled into smoke. The hallway returned to its decayed stone, the blood to dust, and the scent of death — real, but not overwhelming.

"Nice try."

He spun — not backward, but into the skeletons.

His entire body surged with momentum.

"Full Moon."

Noah unleashed the technique with full rotational force. His stolen blade spun in a blinding arc, vibrating with speed. A luminous crescent of white energy exploded from the strike, slicing outward in a wide, blooming ring.

The skeletons never stood a chance.

They shattered mid-lunge, bones and magic dispersing into the mist as the echo of the strike rang across the chamber.

Noah dropped to one knee, panting, arm trembling from the exertion. The blade cracked in his grip.

Saphielle stood in the shadows, lips parted slightly.

"...You resisted the illusion. That’s rare."

Noah met her gaze, crimson eyes burning.

"You’re seriously annoying, you know that?"

The battlefield had gone still.

Bones littered the floor, cracked and charred, the stench of necrotic magic fading slowly from the air. Noah’s breathing was shallow, blood seeping from a cut above his brow. His crimson-red eyes locked onto Saphielle, who stood a few meters away — untouched, but fuming. Shadows curled at her feet like smoke, drawn to her rage.

She narrowed her pitch-black eyes.

"You lost."

Noah chuckled dryly. "Lost? Nah. I just haven’t won yet."

She raised her hand again, dark energy pulsing at her fingertips — but Noah moved first.

In a blur of motion, he closed the distance. His right hand grabbed her wrist mid-cast, forcing it down, while his left brought the glasses up.

"Don’t—" she snapped, struggling.

"Too late." His voice was low, unwavering.

Saphielle tried to retreat, shadows flaring wildly — but Noah surged forward, pushing past the swirl of dark mana. One solid shove and she stumbled back. Before she could recover, he seized the moment.

With both hands, he forced the glasses onto her face.

Click.

The arcane lock embedded in the frame activated, fusing momentarily with her mana signature. Saphielle froze as the magic began to hum softly, lenses flickering with inner light. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Her eyes widened — not yet seeing, but feeling something stirring.

He let go, stepping back as the glasses pulsed once — then again.

Saphielle’s lips parted slightly, but no words came. The enchantment was now active, and the first spark of foreign memory was already burning beneath her eyelids.

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