Kael continued through the crowded streets quietly, his eyes scanning the city with the same calm vigilance as before.
The borrowed sword hung at his waist, occasionally reflecting the afternoon light as people passed by.
Some mercenaries glanced at him briefly.
Others instinctively moved aside without understanding why.
"…I forgot to ask," Kael whispered to himself while walking through the streets. "What exactly are those ranks they mentioned… Master-Level, Grandmaster-Level, Pseudo-God-Level…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"So far, everyone I've met measures strength through those levels."
He looked down briefly at his own hand.
"…But I still don't even know what kind of power I have… or where it came from."
For a moment, the faint memory of that unknown existence resurfaced in his mind—the being that had sent him here.
The one that gave him these strange abilities?
Kael's expression remained calm, though his thoughts deepened.
"…I'll figure it out eventually."
He continued walking through Fortress Genesis quietly.
"For now… the only thing I need to do is leave this world."
Kael's steps slowed slightly as he moved through the crowded street.
The noise of Fortress Genesis faded in and out around him—voices, footsteps, metal clashing—yet his mind stayed distant.
Behind him, a few mercenaries briefly glanced at him again, then quickly looked away as if instinct told them not to interfere.
Kael adjusted the sword at his waist.
"…Leave this world," he repeated softly under his breath.
His eyes narrowed faintly.
"…Then I need information first."
Suddenly, a scream echoed not far ahead.
People began running in panic, pushing past Kael as they fled down the street.
Kael paused, slightly confused, watching the chaos unfold.
He reached out and stopped one man rushing by.
"…Hey. What's happening?" Kael asked calmly.
"N-Nightmare!" the man shouted in panic. "A man is transforming—any second he'll turn into a Nightmare!"
His eyes were wide with terror as he struggled free from Kael's grip and ran off with the others.
The street around them quickly emptied, leaving only echoes of screams and rushing footsteps fading into the distance.
"Nightmare…?" Kael whispered to himself. "What is that?"
Without hesitation, he moved toward the source of the scream.
At the end of the street, he saw it.
A man trembling violently—his eyes glowing crimson, veins blackening across his skin. Cracks spread through his body like broken glass, while a dark, shadow-like energy poured out of him and twisted upward into the air.
Kael's expression remained calm.
TRUTH.
His vision shifted instantly.
The world peeled back like layers of broken reality.
What he saw made even him pause.
The man's body was no longer human—it was being devoured from the inside, his existence twisting and unraveling as something foreign forced itself into him.
And deep in his abdomen—
Two black cores were forming, slowly merging into something unstable.
Kael's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…I see."
He lowered his hand.
"So this is a Nightmare…" he muttered. "It's like… corruption."
Kael stood still as the Nightmare continued to twist and crack in front of him.
The crimson-eyed man convulsed, shadow energy spilling out like smoke trying to escape a broken vessel.
But Kael didn't move.
"…Why don't I feel fear?" he whispered to himself.
His expression darkened slightly, not in panic—but in thought.
"I was just an ordinary human one month ago…"
A brief silence followed.
"…The only time I feel fear is when I see the true color of this world."
His eyes narrowed as memory surfaced—the unknown presence that sent him here.
"…What did you do to me?" Kael muttered.
The Nightmare let out a distorted roar, but Kael didn't react.
He only stared, as if trying to look beyond the monster… and into the system behind it.
Kael slowly raised his hand.
Frost gathered in the air.
Two small ice spikes formed above his palm, sharp and condensed, glinting faintly under the light.
His eyes remained fixed on the Nightmare.
Through Truth, the structure of the corruption became clear to him.
"…The core…" Kael whispered.
Inside the twisting body, the two black spheres pulsed—unstable, exposed, like weak points holding everything together.
"…That's its weakness."
The Nightmare suddenly convulsed, sensing danger, its shadow energy flaring violently as it staggered forward.
Kael's expression remained unchanged as he watched the ice spikes hang in the air for a fraction of a moment—then commit to their path.
He flicked his hand forward.
The two ice spikes shot out with unnatural precision, not relying on brute speed, but on perfect alignment—like the world itself accepted their trajectory.
SHUNK!
Both struck true.
One pierced the first black core embedded in the shoulder.
The second drove straight into the waist, locking onto the second core.
The Nightmare froze.
Its entire body jerked violently as if something inside had been severed from control.
Crimson light flickered.
Then—
Cracks spread rapidly across its form like breaking glass.
Shadow energy erupted outward in unstable bursts, then immediately collapsed inward, as if the "thing" holding it together had been destroyed.
The Nightmare staggered… then began to fall apart.
Kael turned away from the collapsing Nightmare without a second glance.
His footsteps were steady, unhurried, as the creature behind him disintegrated into fading shadow fragments.
"…Doesn't matter who I am… or what I am," he whispered to himself.
His gaze remained forward, sharp and distant.
"…The only thing that matters… is what I need to do."
A brief pause.
"…To bring an end to the gods."
Minutes later, armored guards rushed through the streets toward the site of the Nightmare outbreak.
Their boots slammed against stone as they pushed past scattered civilians and overturned stalls.
"Over here!"
"Move! Clear the path!"
When they finally reached the location, they all stopped.
The scene was silent.
A man lay collapsed on the ground, barely conscious, his chest rising weakly as he struggled to breathe. Sweat covered his face, and his body trembled from exhaustion.
But what stunned the guards most—
Was his injuries.
His shoulder and waist had been pierced and then frozen over with precise ice, sealing the wounds completely and preventing any further bleeding.
The ice was clean.
Controlled.
Deliberate.
One of the guards slowly stepped forward, eyes wide in disbelief.
"…Who… did this…?"
"The Nightmare energy is gone… that means the Nightmare core has been destroyed…"
One of the guards muttered, kneeling beside the unconscious man as he inspected the remnants of corruption.
Then his eyes widened slightly.
"…Wait," another guard said slowly. "He destroyed a Nightmare core… without killing the host?"
Silence fell over the group.
The frozen wounds.
The clean extraction of danger.
The fact that the host was still alive.
One of the senior guards exhaled sharply, voice lowering.
"…That's not something a normal fighter can do."
"Lift him," the senior guard ordered quickly. "Bring him to the clinic!"
Two guards immediately moved in, carefully supporting the unconscious man.
Despite his injuries, they handled him with precision, avoiding the frozen wound areas as they lifted him from the ground.
"Careful—don't break the ice seal," one of them warned.
"Yes, sir!"
The group quickly began moving out, carrying the survivor through the streets as shocked civilians watched in silence.
"…Maybe," the senior guard whispered to himself while watching the frozen wounds carefully, "he might even be able to heal our Fortress Lord…"
His expression turned serious.
"But we don't have any clue who did it… or where he went."