For a brief moment, disorientation clouded her senses—an unfamiliar sensation for a creature of her power and age. The teleportation spell wasn’t very stable, from the looks of it. She steadied herself against a nearby wall, silver-white hair falling across her face as she recalibrated her perception.
Around her, chaos erupted as other deported individuals appeared in similar flashes of light. Professors from Waybound shouted commands, frustrated that they’d been separated from their students.
Adventurers cursed loudly, their frustrations aimed at the impassive island floating above them. Several mages already formed circles, attempting to reestablish connections to Nevaramis through hastily constructed portals. Munera already knew it wouldn’t work.
"Pathetic," Munera murmured, watching their futile efforts. The ancient android's magic was beyond their comprehension. As expected, the whole island lit up with a circular barrier, meant to stop anyone from attempting to enter again.
She brushed invisible dust from her immaculate dark robes and stepped away from the crowds. A mild irritation burned in her chest—she was fairly confident the Night Veil Fragment was there, and she could have gotten her hands on it. Now, she had to put her faith in that boy. He was definitely strong enough to get it, but would he bother to?
According to her Father, the relic had remained hidden in Nevaramis for centuries, its power to bend shadows and light perfect for enhancing vampire abilities. Obsidians would greatly benefit from it given their pitiful current state.
Will Nebula convince Iskandaar to look for it? she wondered, crimson eyes narrowing slightly. The girl shows promise, but her judgment remains unpredictable.
After a moment's contemplation, Munera's lips curled into a faint smile. Perhaps this was an appropriate test for her daughter. Iskandaar would likely assist her if she bothered to ask. The boy was surprisingly soft toward her daughter, after all.
Decision made, she turned toward a narrow alleyway, her form already beginning to blur at the edges as she prepared to shift.
"Leaving so soon?"
The voice—smooth as silk yet sharp as a blade—froze Munera mid-step. Her body tensed instantly, old instincts surging to the surface. Slowly, with the deliberate grace of a predator, Munera turned.
Her silver-white hair cascaded down her back as she faced the shadow-draped figure leaning casually against the alley wall.
The enemy of her life stood with arms crossed, red eyes gleaming in the darkness. Her powerfully built frame contrasted with Munera's slender elegance, but both women radiated the unmistakable aura of apex predators. Wild silver hair framed her face, emphasizing her wolfish features and the casual smirk playing across her lips.
It was none other rhan Ralian Lunewolf.
"Ralian," Munera said, voice dropping several degrees in temperature. "I don't recall inviting you for morning coffee." What the hell was she doing here?
Did that mean Vargathrian was here too? Shit, this isn’t good. She could handle Ralian, but it’d be really troublesome if that old wolf was here too.
Ralian chuckled, the sound low and dangerous despite its apparent mirth. "Calm down, Mun. We’ve known each other for so long, aren’t we practically friends? No worries, I'm not here to fight," she replied, pushing off from the wall with languid grace. "Though, believe me, I wish I were. It'd certainly be more enjoyable than cleaning up this mess."
Munera's eyes narrowed to crimson slits. They hadn't crossed paths ever since that battle in Lockdarn, where her Father had perished. Of course, it should be Munera who wanted to fight, not her. "...Explain yourself quickly, Lunewolf. I'm not exactly patient after being forcibly separated from my daughter."
"Hmm, did that happen? Pity. But I see you’re still as charming as ever," Ralian sighed, stepping forward into the faint moonlight. Her expression sobered quickly. "I went to Ethenia to meet my daughter as per mother's request, but it turned out my baby hasn't returned to the academy yet. So I came here after hearing about this summer festival.”
“Get to the point.”
“Let me set the mood. I reached Merasca just earlier, a bit too late to catch a platform." She paused, red eyes flickering toward the floating island. "But that's not important."
"What's more important than Nevaramis in this situation?" Munera asked, genuine curiosity bleeding through her defensive posture.
Ralian's smile vanished completely. "On my way here, I tracked a scent. Something... wrong. Putrid. The kind that lingers in nostrils for days."
Munera arched an elegant eyebrow, skepticism evident. "You’re dragging this, Ralian. Why would I care about your little adventures? Your wolfy nose picking up something unsavory is hardly breaking news."
"Because," Ralian's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper as she gazed upward toward the floating island, "the Outer God Cult is here. You’ve heard about them right? They’re in Merasca right now, and a portion of their group has infiltrated Nevaramis." She pointed toward Nevaramis. "Isn’t your daughter there right now?"
The words hit Munera like a physical blow.
Her immortal heart, which rarely accelerated, skipped a beat. She swallowed. Was her lovely daughter surrounded by cultists right now? Foolish mortals who worshipped beings that existed beyond the boundaries of sanity itself?
"You're certain?" she demanded, all pretense of disinterest evaporating.
"I caught five of them at the city's edge," Ralian confirmed grimly. "Killed three, but two escaped—and I don’t think any of them are the true ring head. They carried scrolls with symbols that made my eyes hurt. When I burned the bodies, the flames turned green." She grimaced. "Trust me, I've met enough of these lunatics throughout the decades to know their stench."
“I see…”
Ralian's red eyes looked at her with worry. "Now, since I notified you about such a serious matter, answer something for me. Did you meet that boy, Iskandaar? He’s your daughter’s fiance, so you must know. If so, was Lilian with him? She's a maid, after all, she mustn't have." Her last words sounded hopeful.
Munera hesitated, a rare moment of empathy flickering across her otherwise cold features. "...Iskandaar is there, yes. And unfortunately for both of us, your daughter followed that boy."
A heavy silence fell between them, centuries of hostility momentarily suspended by shared maternal concern.
"Tell me more," Munera said finally, her voice quiet but intense. "About this Outer God Cult."
****
A tense silence enveloped the treasure chamber as I examined the five heavily armed figures blocking our only exit. My Demonic Sphere pulsed outward instinctively as I analyzed their power signatures deeper, just to be sure.
The corruption was unmistakable—the same twisted, nauseating energy that had infected my brother Iaskin and then that Avenora girl. It swirled within their auras like oil on water, a foreign parasite latching onto their mana cores. These weren't just random adventurers seeking treasure; they were Outer God cultists.
"I won't ask twice," growled their leader, Varis, even though he’d let the Lyra girl take the lead earlier. He was a broad-shouldered man with a lightning-shaped scar running from his right eye to his jawline. "Move to the side, let us take the Crown of Echoes, and we might let you live."
Behind Varis and Lyra, their three companions stood with weapons drawn—a hulking man with a battle-axe, a wiry archer with a longbow, and a robed figure whose hands glowed with sickly green energy.
I moved toward the pedestal where the Crown of Echoes rested, touched it, and it vanished into my Soul Storage. Silence stretched into the room.
“...You’ve made a bad choice,” Lyra said, grinning even as she glared.
"Fascinating," I replied calmly, deliberately keeping my tone light. "You've made it this far only to make demands? How tedious." I deliberately spoke this way, expressing my inner Heavenly Demon if only for the intimidation factor.
Varis's eyes narrowed dangerously. "We're not here to chat, mask-man. The Crown belongs to us—to our masters."
I felt my companions shifting into defensive positions. Solara and Lilian instinctively moved to flank Nebula, recognizing her as the one with the least combat experience among us. That was good. Their protective instincts were admirable, though unnecessary—I could handle this myself.
"Your masters?" I echoed, stalling for time while my mind raced through options. "And who might those be?" I already had an idea, of course.
Before they could reply, Lilian let out a sharp, surprised hiss. "...Wait, I recognize you. It's you," she pointed at Lyra, her ruby eyes blazing with recognition and hatred. "That bitch from the cult."
I turned sharply toward Lilian, my curiosity piqued. Her face had gone red beneath her mask, her silver hair practically bristling with tension.
"When you sent me to investigate the cult, young master," she whispered urgently to me. "She was there when I tracked them. Outer God cultist. She's dangerous—insanely strong. Last time, I had to flee. Although, it was because she had companions and I alone."
Ah. So it was these people who hurt Lilian that day? Her words confirmed my suspicions about their affiliation. What is Amelia doing? She said she’ll take care of the Outer God Cult. To be fair, she probably had for them to be so far from Waybound. They probably fled and regrouped with a different branch of their cult.
Lyra tilted her head slightly, frowning as she studied Lilian. "Hm? No idea who you are," she replied dismissively, clearly confused by our disguised identities. Her eyes flickered back to me, hungry and confident. "The crown. Now. Do that, and we'll pretend we never saw you."
“Your man said ‘I won’t say twice,’ but you keep repeating yourself,” I let out a mocking chuckle. “The answer is the same.” I let my gaze drift to the artifact we'd been examining just moments ago.
The Crown of Echoes—a circlet of ancient, silvery metal inlaid with pulsing gemstones that seemed to capture and reflect light in impossible ways. A cold smirk formed beneath my mask. I wouldn't be giving up such power, especially not to cultists who worshipped entities from beyond the boundaries of sanity.
"Lunardoom," I called calmly, using Lilian's disguise name while keeping my eyes fixed on Varis. “You’re allowed to take out your anger on the lady. I'll handle the big guy." I paused, glancing at my other companions. “Sunspot, Neb, deal with the other three."
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Lyra started to say something snide, but I'd had enough of her arrogance and the nauseating corruption emanating from her.
"[Photon Ring]," I murmured quietly.
The effect was immediate and spectacular.
A blazing halo of golden light materialized behind me, spinning rapidly like a celestial disk of pure radiance. The light refracted off the gemstones lining the chamber walls, multiplying into countless beams that bathed the room in blinding brilliance.
I rose smoothly into the air, defying gravity as the ring propelled me upward. Luminous light flickered behind my form, dancing like planetary orbits around a central star. My cloak wavered dramatically behind me, creating a shadow that contrasted sharply with the light I commanded.
Even Varis took an involuntary step backward, momentarily overwhelmed by the display.
I let my voice deepen, channeling the role of Murim's Heavenly Demon. "You vermin dare covet what belongs to this Heavenly Incarnation of Chaos? Foolish."
Lyra recovered first, lunging forward with impossible speed. Darkness and shadow tendrils spiraled from her sword, warping the very air around her blade. Lilian met her with a furious roar, lunar energy flaring brightly around her fists like silver flame. Their clash sent a shockwave rippling through the chamber, stone dust raining from the ceiling.
I didn't waste time watching their battle. In an instant, I flashed forward, my Photon Ring propelling me at dizzying speed toward Varis. My fist ignited with Stellar Qi, the energy coalescing into a tight spiral as I prepared to deliver a [True Demon Fist Art: The Burning Barrage of the Bull of Heaven].
Varis was ready. He calmly lifted his arm, eldritch-purple lightning crackling from his fingers. The electricity twisted unnaturally, forming patterns that hurt my eyes—a shield of writhing, corrupted energy that radiated wrongness.
Our powers erupted into a collision of violence.
The chamber shook, stones cracking beneath the force of our combined might. To my satisfaction, Varis stumbled back as surprise flickered briefly in his darkened eyes. He was Level 99, the peak possible on this island, so naturally he’d been confident. Sadly for him, I wasn’t a typical Level 69.
"You," Varis growled softly, lightning flaring brighter around his arms, "are stronger than you should be."
I smirked beneath my mask, deliberately taunting him. "You overestimate yourself. Perhaps it is you who are weaker than you imagined."
His eyes narrowed, the corruption in them pulsing visibly. "Or perhaps you're not what you seem. The Outer Gods see through all disguises, all deceptions."
My mind flashed to Iaskin, and what these people had done to him. For a moment, I wondered if this man was in his position by his own will, or if he’d been brainwashed. Regardless, as I recalled Iaskin’s fate from the game, rage bubbled beneath my calm exterior.
Varis snarled and thrust both hands forward. Purple eldritch lightning bolts erupted from his fingertips, each crackling arc twisting bizarrely mid-air. As they raced toward me, they left trails of distorted space, and reality itself seemed to warp in their wake.
I dodged swiftly, activating [Void Step] to blink through the gaps between bolts.
Each evasive maneuver was precise and calculated—I'd already mapped his attack pattern with my Demonic Sphere. Through it all, I maintained my aerial advantage, forcing him to keep looking up.
He's using corrupted lightning mana, I analyzed quickly. Each bolt carries trace elements of Outer God essence—that's what's causing the spatial distortions. Fascinating, but it seems the world finds it disgusting.
To this world, this reality, an Outer God’s aura was like a parasite. Mother nature didn’t like it. That gave it more power. He pressed harder, raising his hands toward the ceiling as black tentacles of corrupted mana rose violently from the floor beneath me, attempting to grasp and immobilize me mid-air.
Let’s see how my Class abilities fare against this dark energy, I decided, remembering how the Myth Slayer class was specifically designed to counter legendary and mythical beings. Since it worked on a Holy Knight, surely that would include the people using the powers of Outer Gods. And if I mix it with this…
I pulled out the Demon Blade of Kurayami from my Soul Storage. It hummed in the presence of these corrupted beings, lighting up with energy.
"[Mythrend]," I muttered, applying the Skill on the sword’s energy.
The blade’s purple energy ignited with golden-white energy, mixing with it. I swept it in a wide arc, slicing through the tentacles with terrifying efficiency. Where my blade touched the corrupted manifestations, they didn't just break—they disintegrated completely.
The Myth Slayer was working.
Varis let out a pained howl, clutching his chest as if I'd struck him directly.
Interesting, I thought. I am not sure, but maybe there is a direct connection between him and the Outer God rather than a subtle one. The Mythrend isn't just destroying the tentacles—it's disrupting the link to whatever entity is supplying this power.
I didn’t relax, but the outcome of this battle was obvious. Just a few more minutes, and it’d end. While maintaining pressure on Varis, I stole quick glances around the chamber, checking on my companions.
Nebula and Solara worked efficiently in perfect coordination—Nebula swiftly paralyzed their weaker opponents with her hypnotic vampiric gaze, while Solara followed up with precision blasts of phoenix flame. Solara was the heavy hitter, but Nebula wasn't a liability either. She was far from the rest of our group, but she was still Level 48.
Nebula supported, as Solara blazed with her Phoenix flames, carefully keeping her wings hidden. They’d still have faced trouble if their bodies weren’t strengthened like that of a Murim martial artist thanks to my cultivation technique. The robed figure was already down, the archer struggling to nock arrows with half-paralyzed fingers. The axe-wielder still fought, but his movements were sluggish as he tried to evade Solara's flames.
Good, they were managing well.
Lilian clashed fiercely with Lyra, silver lunar fists trading brutal blows with shadowy blade strikes. Lunar energy cascaded around Lilian's body like a protective aura, illuminating her defiant expression clearly. She seemed evenly matched with Lyra, each of their exchanges ending in a stalemate. I wasn't worried—Lilian was my second-strongest companion, nearly at the 6th Ascension threshold.
Reassured by my companions' progress, my focus sharpened back on Varis.
"Who sent you?" I demanded, activating [Veil of the Slayer]. A subtle pressure radiated outward from my body, dampening the mythical energies in the room. I could see Varis's corrupted lightning dim slightly as my aura suppressed his connection to his dark patrons.
Passive: [Veil of the Slayer]:
- Your presence slightly suppresses the power of mythical beings within a 20-meter radius, reducing the effectiveness of their abilities by 10%. This effect is subtle but can give you a slight edge in prolonged encounters.
It was a passive ability, one of the Class’s original Skills, but when I focused my willpower on it, it had a more ‘active’ effect.
"You know nothing," he grumbles, earlier bravado gone, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought against my suppression. "The Outer Gods are coming, and those who serve will be elevated. Those who resist... consumed."
"Pretty speech," I replied coldly. "Did you practice it in the mirror? Tell me, how many more of you clowns are in Nervaramris?"
With a roar of frustration, Varis unleashed his most powerful attack yet. Eldritch lightning flooded outward from his entire body, filling the chamber with chaotic, twisted electricity. The corrupted energy pulsed nauseatingly, eating away at the edges of reality itself, leaving smoky afterimages that hurt my eyes to look at directly.
I leaped skyward, my Photon Ring lifting me smoothly above the destructive wave. Below me, stone melted and bubbled where the lightning touched it, leaving eldritch symbols etched into the floor that continued to glow with sickly light.
"Such foul powers won't stain my city," I called down, my voice echoing dramatically to fit my Heavenly Demon persona. "I'll erase you and your wretched cult."
I channeled my Qi into the Blade of Kurayami, using another class ability through it. "[Fate Unraveled]!" I announced. It wasn’t a damage based attack, but rather would mess with his luck. But thanks to being used through the Blade of Kurayami, it’d land exponential damage as well.
I waved my sword, and sword arcs rushed ahead. Golden purple threads of light appeared around Varis simultaneously, encircling him in a complex web that represented the fabric of his destiny. The sword arcs went through these taught threads, slicing them like noodles, and disrupting his connection to fortune and luck.
An odd mark appeared above his head, the mark of Fate Unraveled, visible only to me—a sign that his probability of success had been drastically reduced. His next lightning bolt fizzled mid-air, the corrupted energy dissipating harmlessly before it could reach me.
"What—what have you done?" he gasped, staring at his hands in disbelief.
"Turned fate against you," I replied simply, diving sharply downward.
Then, I channeled Qi into one of my most refined techniques—[True Demon Sword Art: Absolute Cataclysm of the Demonic Butterfly]. My blade blazed white-hot as I swung it in a perfect arc directly at Varis's corrupted heart. It screamed like never before because it was being cast by the Blade of Kurayami.
His lightning shield cracked like glass violently under my strike, and spider-web fractures spread across its surface. Panic flickered briefly in his corrupted eyes as I overpowered him completely, and his defenses shattered like brittle glass beneath the combined might of my martial technique and class abilities.
Victory was certain as I brought my sword down decisively—
"Enough!"
Lyra's desperate cry made me halt my blade mere inches from Varis's neck. I turned my eyes to the side in disbelief, my concentration broken. The sight before me turned my blood to ice.
Lilian—my fierce, resilient Lilian—hung limply, unconscious in Lyra's grasp. Her body dangled helplessly by the scruff of her neck, a sharp blade pressed against her vulnerable throat. A thin ribbon of blood trickled down where the tip pressed slightly into her skin.
“....” Shock and rage roared simultaneously through my veins, but I showed none.
"Lilian!" Solara shouted, instantly stopping her fight. Nebula froze as well, eyes wide with horror.
How had this happened? I'd been so focused on Varis, so confident in Lilian's abilities, that I'd missed the moment when their battle turned. No, how did it even turn? They were evenly matched when I saw them last time. Had Lyra been holding back? Or had Lilian made a critical mistake? No, the most likely case is that Lyra has some hidden one-shot trick.
Lyra smiled cruelly, triumphant. "Back down from Varis, masked bastard. Hand over the artifact, or I'll spill her precious wolf blood across your treasure."
My jaw tightened, muscles straining beneath my mask. Fury and helplessness warred violently within me. For all my confidence, for all my strength—I couldn't risk Lilian's life. Not for any treasure, not even for Nevaramis itself.
Varis coughed weakly, pulling himself upright. Eldritch lightning still crackled faintly around him, but his expression was victorious even in defeat. He knew he had me cornered through Lilian.
"Tick tock," Lyra taunted, pressing her blade slightly deeper. Another drop of blood slid down Lilian's neck, staining her silver hair crimson.
I could call her bluff, use [Void Step] to reach her before she could react—but what if I miscalculated? What if I was a second too slow, and she slammed that blade into Lilian’s throat? The risk was too great.
"Fine," I growled, slowly descending to the ground and extinguishing my Photon Ring. My fists clenched so tightly that my joints cracked audibly. I held back a grumble and pulled the Crown of Echoes from my Soul Storage. I held it out, "Take it."
"Wise choice," Varis said smugly, limping toward me and snatching it away. A grin split his face as he looked into my eyes. He slammed a knee into my stomach, and I fell to a knee, jaws clenched. “Loser.”
I could bash his head in, cut him into pieces right away, but they had a hostage. I slowly looked up as he walked away. My voice trembled dangerously, controlled fury seeping into every syllable as I addressed Lyra. "Release her. Take your pathetic prize and flee—before I change my mind. It won’t end well, trust me."
"Oh? And what would you do?" Lyra chuckled darkly, maintaining her grip on Lilian while slowly retreating toward the exit.
“Ask your partner,” I said. The exit only activated when the platform on the middle of the room was pushed away, revealing a portal.
"You’re incredibly powerful, I’ll give you that, but your pet wolf made the mistake of underestimating me. Perhaps you should be more careful who you send to fight your battles, so-called Heavenly Incarnation."
Her mocking tone made my teeth grind. I watched, angry and helpless as they one by one left through the portal. Lyra was the last to escape, holding Lilian at the entrance as she faced us. “I want to kill her,” she said. “But I don’t want any serious grudge. So bye~”
She dropped Lilian, leaping into the portal as she showed us a middle finger.
“Fool.”
[True Demon Fist Art, Fourth Form: The Unyielding Embrace of the Kraken]
My fists surged with an unfathomable depth of power, embodying the legendary Kraken's might, as I drew it back in a punching motion. My Qi burst forward like a relentless tide, like an octopus’ tentacle. It reached and wrapped around her waist, pulling her out of the portal, and into a crushing embrace.
Lyra came flying toward me, eyes wide. “FUC-”
My fist came down at her face like a mountain, exploding against her jaw.