The forest had fallen eerily silent.
The only sound echoing through the trees was the broken, ragged groans of Sephira.
She lay motionless on the blood-soaked ground—right before Charlotte and Seraphina—her once proud and seductive form now reduced to a trembling heap of flesh and agony.
Both arms, ripped from their sockets.
Most of her once-luxurious hair, torn from her scalp in thick clumps.
And her left eye—ripped out barehanded by the silver-haired monster who now stood in judgnt.
The very sa figure whose shadow lood protectively over the battered girls behind him.
Now, she lay like trash on the forest floor... the first ti in her life she’d ever felt true helplessness.
Sephira... one of the key torturers of the Crown of Oblivion—a clandestine organization whose roots had infected empires, kingdoms, and territories across the world. From the Holy Empire of Celestara to the vile marshes of the Bloodmoon Empire... even the aloof Elven Empire had not escaped their grasp.
She and Jas had worked out of the Crown’s base stationed in the Human Empire.
And all her life... Sephira had enjoyed only one thing.
Tornt.
It wasn’t just a job—it was a craving. A twisted, visceral need.
She had tortured children—stripped of hope and made to scream until their throats bled.
She had broken adults—mothers, fathers, even pregnant won—carving unborn nas into their skin as she laughed.
She’d flayed the elderly alive, whispering soft lullabies as their wrinkled skin peeled from their bones.
None of it had mattered to her.
They were playthings.
She was an artist—and pain was her paint.
But now...
Now she was the canvas.
Her body trembled. The pain surging through her nerves was unlike anything she’d ever inflicted on others. Worse—deeper.
This... this can’t be happening... I’m Sephira. *I’m* the one who should be torturing others... I’m supposed to be the one laughing...
Yet all she could do was groan and tremble as her remaining eye, wide and bloodshot, locked onto the source of her suffering.
Alex.
The silver-haired boy.
The one she had mocked. Dismissed. Brutalized while he was unconscious.
And yet—
Now...
He was her nightmare.
Then—
Darkness slithered.
From Alex’s body, tendrils of writhing black energy erged, crawling across the earth like hungry serpents.
They crept toward her, slowly... deliberately.
She wanted to scream, to run, to close her eyes.
But her body wouldn’t move.
Her eye wouldn’t shut.
What... what are those? They’re not going to kill ... are they...?
No.
It was worse.
The tendrils wrapped around her limbs—what was left of them—her torso, her legs, her scalp, her throat.
And then—
The agony began.
It wasn’t physical.
It was existential.
Her body began to rot.
She could feel it—pieces of her consciousness breaking down, dissolving into void. Not all at once.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Her flesh decayed, inch by inch, her skin blackening as if ti itself was speeding up her death... yet not enough to let her die.
And her eye.
Still open.
Forced to watch.
Visions surged.
One by one, the screams of every person she’d ever tortured returned.
But worse.
Because now, she saw it—felt it—from their perspective.
The cries of children she had dismbered echoed in her mind.
The helpless sobs of the pregnant woman whose stomach she carved into.
The feeble shrieks of old n and won she flayed alive.
All of it.
Hundreds of tis worse.
And they didn’t stop.
They didn’t stop.
They wouldn’t stop.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Her scream shook the forest, tearing through the trees like a banshee’s wail.
Birds fled. Animals ran. Even the bloodstained wind paused.
She shrieked until her voice broke.
And still, the tendrils wrapped tighter.
Still, her eye would not close.
---
Across the battlefield, Veyron’s eyes narrowed.
Enough.
A massive obsidian scythe materialized in his hand, dark energy crackling from its curved blade.
Just as he reached for it—
A hand gripped his shoulder.
"Brother," Veyra’s voice sang sweetly, almost playful. "Stop."
Veyron’s voice dropped cold. "Why? Are you waiting for him to attack us?"
Veyra tilted her head.
"Are you scared of him?"
Veyron’s gaze sharpened into daggers. "What did you just say?"
Veyra grinned, eyes glittering with manic glee. "You heard . Are you scared?"
He snorted. "Veyra. We are Avatars of Tharnok. The God of Corruption. The Father of Rot. Do I look scared of a brat who killed so flies?"
He pointed his scythe toward Alex.
"He doesn’t even seem like an avatar."
But Veyra’s grin only grew.
"Exactly."
She licked her lips slowly.
"I want to see how far he goes. I want to see his darkness. His cruelty. How much of a devil he truly is."
She turned, gaze sharpening like twin moons.
"Then I’ll make him join us."
Veyron raised an eyebrow. "You seriously think he’ll agree?"
She shrugged, madness glinting in her eyes.
"If not... we’ll just start by killing his friends. One. By. One."
Her voice dropped into a soft whisper.
"He’ll beg. And when he does..."
She closed her eyes, shivering in ecstasy.
"Oh, how delightful his voice will be when he’s pleading for rcy..."
A mont passed.
Then Veyron chuckled.
"Fine. Let him play."
He lowered his scythe slightly.
"We can’t die in this realm anyway. Our Master created this space for us."
Veyra nodded. "Exactly."
---
On the other side—
Jas watched Sephira’s state with wide, trembling eyes.
His soul nearly escaped his body.
W-What... what is this monster...!?
The silver-haired figure slowly turned his gaze toward him.
Those galaxy-filled eyes stared right through him.
Then—
"You were the one who kicked in the face, weren’t you?"
The voice was cold.
Void of emotion.
Jas panicked.
He didn’t answer.
Instead—
He did the only thing he could.
He activated his space affinity.
And vanished.
—Only to appear a ter away.
Right in front of—
"— again?"
Alex.
He was there, again.
"Wha—?"
CRACK!
A boot slamd into his face.
His jaw snapped.
Blood sprayed.
Jas activated his teleport again—another ter away.
"NO—!"
CRACK!
Another kick.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Alex was everywhere.
W-What the hell!? Does he possess space affinity too!? How’s he keeping up!?
Each teleport was t with the sa result—a foot colliding with his skull, cracking bone, busting lips, spraying blood.
Again.
And again.
Until his face was an unrecognizable ss of red and purple.
Then—
A voice echoed in Alex’s mind.
---
[ Host, Cosmic Essence is depleting at an accelerated rate. You’re using it to create space molecules, and Cosmic Essence takes longer to regenerate than mana. So can you please tone it down? ]
Tch.
Alex clicked his tongue.
Useless. You always ruin my fun.
With one final kick, he caught Jas by the collar mid-air.
Jas coughed blood, eyes fluttering.
Then—
Alex turned toward a certain brown-haired boy in the distance.
A faint smirk curled his lips.
"Catch."
He hurled Jas like a sack of at—
—straight toward Alden.
---
anwhile, not far from the chaos...
Alden von Crestvale stood frozen in place—his body bruised, armor cracked, pride in shambles.
He stared, dazed, as his narcissistic, smug, endlessly irritating friend beat the crap out of Master-ranked enemies like they were playground bullies.
Alex’s movents weren’t elegant or rehearsed. They were brutal. Cold. Unrelenting. Cruel in a way Alden had never seen before.
What... the actual hell am I watching? This... is the sa guy who was weaker than just a few months ago?
His fists clenched.
For the first ti in his life... Alden was relying on soone else to save his ass.
He hated the feeling.
He had been a prodigy from birth—blessed with talent, honed with endless discipline. Weakness disgusted him. He had never tolerated it in others, much less in himself.
But this... this incident had opened his eyes.
Just being the strongest of his generation wasn’t enough.
Not anymore.
A calm voice echoed in his mind.
[ Don’t worry. Don’t compare yourself to him. He is different. And now, you have . ]
Who even are you? Alden thought, still staring blankly as Alex dismantled Jas like a wild god of vengeance.
[ I advise you to watch him closely. ]
Alden narrowed his eyes. Why?
No answer.
Instead, the voice continued.
[ You are by no ans weak. In fact, you’re a monstrous talent in your own right. In the middle and higher planes, finding soone like you is very rare. If you weren’t talented... the Flas of Chaos would’ve incinerated you the mont you used them. ]
A flicker of relief sparked in Alden’s chest.
Then a delayed realization hit him.
His eyes widened. Wait—WAIT! What the HELL did you just say!? I could’ve died using those flas, and you *still* told to use them!?
The voice chuckled.
[ No power cos without risks, kid. ]
Alden was just about to curse when sothing slamd into him from above—hard.
The impact knocked the wind out of him, pain shooting through his spine like a lightning bolt.
"GAH—What the fu—"
Groaning, he shoved the twitching body off his chest, kicking it to the side.
And then he saw the bloody ss.
Jas.
The sa Jas who’d just been kicking their faces in monts ago.
Now barely breathing. Face broken beyond recognition.
A vein bulged on Alden’s forehead.
His eyes slowly turned to the silver-haired devil standing a few ters away, wearing that infuriating smirk that made Alden want to commit at least six different cris.
"You bastard!" Alden shouted, pointing accusingly. "You deliberately threw him at , didn’t you!? There’s no way in hell you didn’t see here!"
Alex shrugged, completely unbothered. "Oh, my bad. I thought you were just sleeping there like a loser after they beat you to a pulp. Did they kick your ass that hard that you can’t even stand up now?"
Alden’s mouth twitched.
He opened his mouth, trying to form a retort.
But...
He didn’t have one.
Because it was true.
He had gotten his ass kicked.
Severely.
So he grit his teeth and stayed silent.
Alex’s smirk widened.
"Oh~? What’s this? Did the cat finally get your tongue? Or is your pride still crawling around sowhere on the floor?"
Alden glared daggers at him, cheeks twitching.
And then Alex laughed.
That smug, playful, arrogant laugh.
The sa one he used when he described his beauty.
But then... sothing in Alex’s expression shifted.
That laugh faded.
Not the smile, no—he kept that smile.
But it was hollow now.
Because Alex’s gaze fell on Alden.
On the broken state he was in.
Then on Charlotte. On Seraphina. Ava. Draven. Ethan.
All of them—battered. Bloodied. Barely alive.
All while Alden had fought to protect them all alone.
Alex’s smile stayed.
But the fury in his eyes told another story.
He turned toward Jas—who had been weakly trying to crawl away—and grabbed him by the hair.
"Don’t worry," Alex said coldly, dragging the man like a sack of garbage. "I won’t let you die easily."
Then the darkness ca.
It poured from his body like an ocean unleashed.
The forest trembled.
The ground cracked.
And the shadows themselves began to move.
Tendrils of corrupted darkness shot outward, faster than lightning, wrapping around every remaining Expert-ranked enemy trying to flee.
Screams echoed as they were hoisted into the air, limbs flailing in terror.
And one of those tendrils wrapped tightly around Jas’s neck, lifting him off the ground with a sickening grip.
But it didn’t stop there.
More tendrils surged forth.
One coiled around Alden’s waist.
Another around Charlotte.
Seraphina.
Ava.
Draven.
They all flinched—hearts pounding.
Even Alden stiffened for a mont, unsure of what Alex was doing.
Then his voice rang out—calm, clear, and unshakable.
"Relax."
His tone held no room for fear.
"Everything will be fine."
They breathed.
Their hearts slowed.
And the tendrils holding them beca gentle—not restraining, but supportive, cradling them with almost motherly care.
Then Alex raised his hand.
His voice dropped.
"Vitality Drain."
The world seed to stop.
And across the battlefield, Veyron and Veyra—those arrogant avatars of Tharnok—watched with wide eyes as sothing they had never imagined unfolded before them.
Because what they now saw seed impossible.
And it shook them to their core.
------
A/N:
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