"I'm going to kill you!"
The shout ripped through the crowd.
Gasps erupted as the red-skinned brute, bleeding, cracked, but not broken, rose from the crater he'd carved into the ground.
Flames coiled around his body, and his eyes blazed like twin furnaces.
In his hand materialized a long, obsidian-edged blade, humming with raw energy. It shimmered in the low light, the edge glowing a molten red.
Clearly, this was no ordinary weapon, forged with cosmic-grade tech, likely stolen from a warlord or worse.
Soren's gaze narrowed, but he didn't move.
"Persistent."
He had expected the brute to stay down. Apparently, his physiology was far more durable than most.
Knowhere wasn't a place for weaklings, but this one still didn't know who he was dealing with.
The crowd instinctively backed away as the red-skinned warrior's flames intensified. The very air warped from the heat, a dry, suffocating wave rolling outward.
Then the brute roared and swung his blade with terrifying force. A crescent-shaped energy shockwave tore through the air, heading straight for Soren with a high-pitched screech.
Just before it hit, a tear in space opened, wide and silent, like the mouth of some great beast. The attack vanished into the void without a trace.
Not even sparks remained.
The brute hesitated for a breath, but pride pushed him forward.
"You think that trick will save you again?!" He bellowed, fury sharpening his every word.
"I'll turn you into ash!"
His flames flared again, this time igniting fully.
His skin cracked with glowing lava seams. The sword in his hand drank the energy like a glutton, growing longer, twisting into a jagged blade of pulsing magma.
"This is a God-Killer Blade! It's tasted Celestial blood!" The brute shouted, holding the weapon aloft.
"You're not walking away from this!"
Soren stood still, arms at his sides. Watching.
"You keep announcing your attacks like you're on stage."
"Do you need applause to feel strong?"
The brute charged with a howl, swinging the lava blade down in a vicious arc. It screamed through the air, a blow that could cleave a dropship in half.
But 20 centimeters before it touched Soren—
The blade stopped.
Space itself hardened like iron.
It was like the sword had struck invisible tar. The momentum drained, the flames flickered, and the red warrior's roar turned into a choked grunt of disbelief.
He pushed, strained, muscles bulging, and still, the blade inched forward slower than a snail in syrup.
"What, what the hell!?"
Soren's eyes glowed faintly. Around him, ripples shimmered in the air—barely visible distortions.
Gravitational anchors. Space warps. Temporal damping fields. Layered like armor, all unseen.
"I was wondering how long you'd last."
"Turns out you burn bright..."
The red brute's body trembled as space tightened further, his movements becoming jerky and stiff, like he was being encased in a vise made of the universe itself.
His flames guttered. The lava blade flickered, then began to shrink, its heat bleeding away until the weapon was nothing more than a dull, pulsing shard of metal.
Then, with a subtle motion, Soren lifted a single finger.
The weapon wrenched itself from the brute's grasp and flew into Soren's waiting hand.
The brute gasped as though he'd lost a limb. He collapsed to his knees, the last of his strength gone.
Soren examined the weapon carefully, turning it in his hand.
The blade vibrated with restrained power. There was a soul inside it, or something close, murderous and ancient, forged in blood.
It liked killing. It wanted to kill.
Through a brief mental communion, Soren learned the name of the long blade now in his grasp... Chiyan.
A weapon born of fire and wrath.
It was a fire-attribute artifact, forged for destruction.
The longer it was wielded, the stronger its heat grew, fueling both power and madness. It amplified energy, dulled pain, and twisted the mind toward violence.
In ancient circles, it was whispered by another name.
The Blade of fury.
Soren tested its weight in his palm. Heavy, but surprisingly balanced, like it belonged there.
A subtle vibration pulsed through the hilt alive, eager.
So this is what I'll bring to the Collector. A fitting tribute.
Nearby, the red-skinned brute the one who'd moments ago tried to end Soren, watched with shattered pride and eyes full of hate.
His body trembled in defeat, pinned still by the last remnants of Soren's spatial bindings. The moment he saw Chiyan vanish into Soren's subspace, something in him broke.
That weapon was his legacy, his anchor to dominance in the Realm of Knowhere. Without it, he was nothing.
Soren turned his head slightly and met the brute's glare.
"Don't look at me like that,"
"You lost it fair."
With a flick of his fingers, he released the space confinement.
The brute barely had time to blink.
Soren's foot lashed out, a brutal, fluid strike to the stomach. CRACK.
The brawler flew backward like a cannonball, crashing through crates and stone as blood burst from his mouth midair.
Soren's eyes narrowed.
"That look in your eyes? It's wasted on me."
He appeared again in a flicker of light, teleportation fused with raw acceleration. Not even elites could track that level of movement, much less counter it.
"You can die now."
Chiyan let out a soft, metallic hum as Soren vanished again.
A heartbeat later, red light streaked across the brute's vision.
He had no time to dodge, no chance to scream. Only instinct roared within him.
A surge of desperation, a howl of resistance. His body grew, flames swelling into a second skin, the lava flowing off him in waves. He pushed his strength past its limit in a final, reckless stand.
But it was too late.
Soren's blade cut through the thickened air like silk. One flash, then another. Dozens. Hundreds. Blinding arcs of red light slashed through space, dancing around the brute faster than thought.
He never landed a blow.
He never even saw one coming.
When the crowd finally registered Soren's still form standing before them, Chiyan was already sheathed. Soren exhaled once, calm and collected, and began to walk forward.
Behind him, time caught up.
The red brute's body split.
A thousand glowing cuts flared across his frame, each one precise, devastating. For a moment, he stood still, then...
BOOM
His body burst apart, disintegrating into crimson ash and molten gore, raining down in silence.
The onlookers went pale.
Soren pulled out the shimmering amethyst coins again and handed them to the nearest trembling official.
"Take me to the Collector."
They didn't hesitate. One of them stepped forward reverently, bowing low.
"Y-Yes, sir. Right this way."
As they departed, whispers rose like smoke behind them.
"He… he actually killed the Red Devil…"
"Just a newcomer… and he's shattered the balance."
"We need to leave. Now. If the Red Devil's brother hears of this…"
Panic rippled through the crowd, but beneath it all, there was… pity.
The Red Devil wasn't just any thug, he was born of ancient flame, a pureblood from the Titan Embers of the Outer Furnace, feared across systems.
He could have ruled a planet if he'd wanted. But he chose to hide behind his brother's shadow, amassing power in this realm, bullying the weak, feeding on spinal fluid, and playing god with a gang of degenerates.
That era had ended in seconds.
Outside a loud and flickering barfront, Soren's new guide hesitated, looking nervous.
"This… this is Collector's territory, sir." The man whispered.
"You may get lucky and find him inside, but speak carefully. Say the wrong thing, and—"
Soren raised a brow.
"I didn't come here to be careful."
He stepped through the doors without waiting, the heat of Chiyan still radiating faintly from his hip.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream