The aftermath of the Siege of Solaria confirmed two things: Dax Jackal was the city's savior, and he was a fundamental anomaly. The physical evidence—the sheer volume of high-rank monster corpses and the intact state of the central Guild tower—spoke of overwhelming power. But the data logs, recovered from the wreckage, told a different story, one that planted the dangerous seeds of heresy among the most intelligent hunter factions.
The core data logged during the siege showed that my Epic Gauntlet was constantly firing at an output requiring an Epic-Echelon 3 hunter's entire reserve every two seconds, yet my personal mana log remained flat. This wasn't efficiency; it was a direct violation of the Mana Conservation Law.
The speculation among the Grand Guilds intensified, now moving beyond mere envy to genuine suspicion.
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The analysis of my siege defense coalesced into three terrifying theories about my ability, each championed by a rival faction:
The Void Engine Theory (Celestial Concord): The analytical Celestial Concord faction hypothesized that I had found a way to draw raw, unstable Void Mana from the non-dimensional space that surrounds every Gate. They believed the Void Alchemist was converting this chaotic, unusable energy into stable fuel. Their conclusion: Dax is a dangerous environmental parasite.
The Parasitic Synthesis Theory (Obsidian Pact): The Obsidian Pact, with their focus on dark rituals and consumption, believed I was using a specialized skill to parasitize energy from the surrounding monsters as I destroyed them. They argued that my continuous power wasn't internal but external, fueling itself by constantly consuming the energy of the monster wave—a terrifying, unending cycle of battlefield sustenance. Their conclusion: Dax is an apex predator with zero limits.
The Soul-Bound Anomaly (Theron's Remnants):Grand Master Theron and his few loyalists, privy to the original reports of my Lich Essence and Specter Sight, suspected something far more frightening. They believed my power was sourced not from technology or the environment, but from a rebirth or soul-bound anomaly—that I was a being from a different dimensional reality who had rewritten the physics of this world to suit my knowledge. Their conclusion: Dax is a threat to reality itself.
These theories, though still confined to high-level Guild discourse, planted the firm suspicion that my power wasn't earned; it was unnatural, unquantifiable, and ultimately, a curse upon the world's order.
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My earned fame and unquantifiable power simultaneously attracted admiration from the populace and solidified the enmity of the power brokers. The Central Authority was my stated enemy, but the Grand Guilds were the immediate, localized threat. They had ceased vying for my alliance and moved to terminal neutralization.
The two primary rival factions, the Obsidian Pact and the Celestial Concord, put aside their differences for one singular goal: eliminating the existential threat.
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The Obsidian Pact, adhering to their brute-force philosophy, organized a highly specialized ambush. They gathered a strike team of five Legendary-tier hunters, all masters of one-shot, high-yield Assassination Attacks—the only counter to my continuous defense.
They ambushed me as I was inspecting the final, remaining Red Gate on the outskirts of Solaria. Their attack was simultaneous and focused: three hunters launched Dimensional Severance Blades (designed to cut off internal mana flow), while the other two initiated a Localized Chronos Field (designed to freeze time around me for a fraction of a second).
It was a perfectly executed maneuver, designed to defeat my reliance on continuous power by severing the supply or stopping me entirely.
I countered with my Absolute Utility Balance and Hyper-Focus.
Chronos Field Counter: My Hyper-Focus was already running. Time did not slow for me; it remained constant. I saw the Chronos Field activate like a shimmering bubble of distortion closing in.
Dimensional Severance Counter (Gravity Essence): I launched my defense. I used the Legendary Gravity Essence not to attack, but to contort the space between the incoming blades and my body. The Localized Gravitational Field was so intense that the straight-line trajectory of the Dimensional Severance Blades was distorted, causing the blades to miss my vital core by inches, slicing only the air around me.
I immediately countered by unleashing a localized Annihilator Mode blast that targeted the assassins' limbs, not their cores. The five Legendary hunters immediately retreated, terrified. Their best assassins, using specialized, high-cost anti-hunter artifacts, had failed to even touch me.
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The Celestial Concord, recognizing the failure of brute force, attempted a far more subtle and dangerous attack: The Mana Virus.
They attempted to infiltrate my digital network, slipping a specialized Arcane Contamination Script disguised as routine Guild update data. This virus was designed to specifically target the filtering components of an essence—in my case, the Void Alchemist. If successful, it would corrupt my ability to filter energy, causing the massive, chaotic Storm Titan energy to surge unregulated into my core, leading to internal combustion.
I intercepted the script almost immediately. My Specter Sight (and the past-life knowledge of network infiltration) recognized the signature of the Concord's finest hacker.
I didn't destroy the virus. I rewrote its targeting code in a fraction of a second, diverting its destructive payload away from my Void Alchemist and redirecting it back through the communication conduit to the Concord's primary command center.
The Arcane Contamination Script, meant to destroy my essence filter, instead hit the Concord's main Mana Storage Nexus, instantly corrupting and destabilizing billions of units of stored elemental mana. The subsequent, localized explosion crippled the Concord's central supply, destroying months of resource harvesting and eliminating their ability to launch any significant offensive action for weeks.
I had countered both plots: brute force failed against my physics-breaking defense, and stealth failed against my supreme analytical knowledge.
The Flames of War continued, but the fighting was no longer about territory; it was about survival. The Grand Guilds were now terrified, realizing that confronting me meant not just defeat, but guaranteed, swift systemic retaliation. My threat status was no longer planted; it had sprouted into an unyielding, apocalyptic tree.