Novel: The Emperor Returned from Ruin
Volume Two
Chapter Ten: Hope, Pale of Face
Ethan stood firm.
His face was harsh, its features fractured, stained by blood and scorched marks, yet one thing had vanished from it for the first time since he set foot on the path of destruction—regret. The silent conflict was gone from his eyes, along with that persistent question of what might have been done differently. What remained was only cold certainty, the certainty of a man who had chosen his path and would never look back.
Before him, the Lord of the Alliance ground his teeth.
The sovereign aura surrounding him was no longer stable; it was shattered, erupting in violent pulses that tore through space itself. This was not the anger of one who had been wounded, but the fury of a being who had realized that the one standing before him was no longer a tool to be broken, nor a piece to be discarded.
He raised his hand.
The attacks were unleashed in a single surge—successive waves of pure sovereign qi, bearing no element, no form, only the force of command itself. Any other being would have been crushed before understanding what was happening.
Ethan blocked them.
Not with difficulty, nor with desperate evasion, but with a single clean motion, as if his body already knew where the attack would land before it was released. The energy shattered around him, dissipated, and the void parted for a brief instant.
In that instant—
He vanished.
He reappeared directly behind the Lord of the Alliance.
One kick.
It was not a flashy strike, but a calculated movement, aimed precisely at the junction where aura met mask. The sound that followed was not an explosion, but a muted crack, as though something sacred had been broken.
The Lord of the Alliance staggered back a step.
Then another.
He calmly raised his hand and removed the mask from his face.
He smiled.
It was a strange smile—neither mocking nor mad, but quietly satisfied, as if this outcome had been expected, even desired.
Ethan froze for a fraction of a second.
Not in fear, but in surprise.
The man spoke in a low voice that nevertheless pierced the entire battlefield: "You filthy earthling… it seems you are worthy of my respect."
His tone shifted. No longer that of a commander, but of a being announcing himself: "I am the master of this Alliance, the ruler of this eternal space. My exalted name… is Loin."
The moment the name was spoken, everything changed.
The aura around him ceased to be mere pressure and became a complete rite. Space contracted, light bent, and the air grew heavy like metal. His body began to shed its human constraint—flesh splitting, bones rearranging themselves, shadow stretching as if it possessed a will of its own.
Then the manifestation was complete.
Some of the Revered Ones retreated in silent terror.
Before Ethan stood neither dragon nor giant… but a winged hound. A massive body covered in dark fur, wings torn with malice, eyes filled with absolute contempt for all life. A higher manifestation of a tyrant—the symbol of a beast that ruled not because it was rightful, but because it was ancient.
Ethan looked at it.
Disgust passed through his eyes—no fear, no awe—as if he were suppressing laughter at such an unprecedented manifestation.
Loin stared back in astonishment, unsettled by the lack of fear, by the contemptuous gaze cast upon his "great" form.
Ethan clenched his fist.
And space responded.
His dragon formed once more, denser this time, quieter, as if it had learned from the previous battle that dominance is not born from noise.
The battle resumed.
Ethan lunged with his spear, a direct thrust aimed at the heart. Loin raised his claws, forming a severing spell instantly—a line of force that split everything it touched. Ethan dodged with a sharp twist, but the wings of the manifestation swept toward him, sealing off the sky.
Ethan leapt high.
He tore through the stillness as he ascended, gathering every remaining shred of energy into his spear, compressing it, condensing it, then hurling himself toward Loin like a living weapon.
Loin tried to catch him.
He succeeded… partially.
Loin's hand was torn apart, flesh scattering, yet his grip closed around the spear, redirecting the entire momentum back at Ethan. The impact was violent. Ethan tried to evade, but part of his shoulder was ripped clean through.
He did not stop.
He altered the form of his spear; metal and energy extended, wrapping around his arm like a lethal gauntlet, and he charged again.
Loin's manifestation attempted to block him.
Ethan's dragon coiled around the winged body, binding it, dragging it backward.
Loin retreated, his feet digging into the mountain as the earth screamed under the pressure. He relaxed his left hand and poured all his power into his right, then struck.
The blow pierced the gauntlet.
It destroyed Ethan's arm.
It continued.
It shattered his jaw.
And sent him flying to the far side of the planet.
Silence reigned for a fraction of a second.
Then—
Loin appeared behind him.
At maximum speed.
A killing blow.
But Ethan had already risen.
He stood with calm confidence, his feet gripping the ground with crushing force. Roots erupted from his ruined arm, spreading, burrowing deep into the planet's core, beginning to drain its energy without permission.
His remaining hand was ready.
Loin realized too late.
The punch struck his face.
He fell.
He was driven into the ground.
Space trembled.
For the first time, Loin looked at Ethan with genuine fear in his eyes. "Who… are you?"
Ethan stood over him.
His voice was heavy, sincere, unadorned: "I am nothing but a human… granted a second chance by fate."
He lifted his head, gazing at the sky that had always scorned his world: "I am the last hope of Earth."
A cold smile formed: "I am the insect that stands before monsters."
Then he said, with finality: "No matter how great your power, your authority, your tyranny… you would not survive a single day on a planet that taught its children how to rise from ruin."
He extended his spear.
And declared his name like a verdict: "I am the one who returned from ruin… Ethan Crown."
From outside the chamber of the Revered Ones, where all watched in stunned silence, a roar erupted like the cry of an entire planet:
"Ethan… Hope of Earth, pale of face!"
—
End of Chapter