Kael now bore the weight of responsibility upon his shoulders. As he looked at Nel and the gathered people, his voice was calm yet resolute.
"Do not worry," he said softly. "Think of this as a new beginning."
He extended his hand.
A binding radiance erupted outward, flooding the atmosphere with divine light. Space itself wrapped and folded as if responding to his will. The star-filled cosmos began to shift—entire celestial bodies trembling and drifting. It was a spectacle beyond comprehension. All who witnessed it stood frozen in awe.
Moments later, the Ascendant Nexus Plane descended into a region of the cosmos where all things crumbled into nothingness—yet paradoxically, this place marked the beginning of creation itself. The backdrop was the Milky Way Galaxy, vast and silent.
The cosmic beast in Kael's arms gently leapt down, sensing the shift.
In the distance, Kael's gaze fell upon the shattered remnants of Earth—lifeless debris drifting without vitality. His expression twitched for the briefest moment, a flicker of buried emotion. Then, as quickly as it came, it vanished, replaced by cold composure.
His eyes ignited with searing energy.
Upon his forehead, a golden divine symbol manifested, blazing like a newborn sun. From it, countless golden law-chains erupted, spreading across the region and binding the surrounding space. The chains tore reality apart, ripping open a widening—deeper and deeper—until Kael stepped through.
Beyond the tear lay the Hollow Void.
Inside, countless shattered plane-axes and void fragments drifted endlessly. Kael descended onto the largest of these fragments, his presence alone stabilizing it.
Within him, his core world began to compress.
A radiant silver seed condensed from his inner realm, materializing above his palm. Kael spoke calmly, as though explaining an immutable truth of the cosmos.
"When one reaches Level Three, the cultivator's core can no longer rely solely on the body. The body absorbs energy from the surroundings, but it cannot sustain further growth."
"That is why the inner world must be compressed into a seed… and planted within the Hollow Void."
"The axis void fragment will evolve into a Realm Core, a void of its own—one that directly absorbs raw cosmic energy and refines it into pure essence."
With that, Kael planted the silver seed into the axis void fragment.
The instant it made contact—
A catastrophic surge erupted.
Power exploded outward, far surpassing any stellar detonation, its shockwave spreading across five light-years. The void ignited as a massive formation array flared to life.
Behind Kael, five Great Laws manifested:
→ Great Law of Space
→ Great Law of Time
→ Great Law of Annihilation
→ Great Law of Death
→ Great Law of Dominion
From each Great Law, streams of runic light poured forth, converging into the colossal formation.
Then—
A towering pillar of divine radiance pierced the void.
Layer upon layer of runes unfolded behind it as mountains rose, skies formed, waters flowed, and lands stabilized. vegetation spread rapidly, life blooming under radiant golden light.
The Realm Core was established.
Suddenly, everything trembled.
A vast portal tore open in the void.
From it descended the Primus Universal Will.
An immeasurable torrent of primordial energy poured forth, flooding the newborn Realm Core. Kael felt the overwhelming surge course through existence itself.
In that moment, his true Realm Core was fully established—
A colossal domain spanning five light-years.
After the Realm Core was fully established, Kael returned to Nel and the survivors.
The moment he appeared, streams of runes flickered into existence around him—vast, ancient symbols that bent space and time with their mere presence. The void trembled. Fluctuations rippled outward on a galactic scale, spreading far beyond the Ascendant Nexus Plane.
Kael was not merely stabilizing a realm.
He was rewriting a galaxy.
The Milky Way—once shattered, drained of vitality, reduced to a silent grave—responded to his will.
For this act, Kael required an unfathomable amount of energy.
That was why he had established his Realm Core.
Kael raised his hand.
A single sign.
Space burst open.
The heavens darkened as countless black holes manifested across the void—small at first, then rapidly expanding. Gravity screamed as they began to move, drawn together by Kael's authority.
They merged.
One by one.
Until the entire Milky Way collapsed inward—stars, dust, remnants of dead worlds—compressed into a single supermassive black hole, its gravity so absolute that even light bowed before it.
Nel and the others stared in horror.
The galaxy itself was shrinking.
Condensing.
Becoming a singularity.
Before fear could turn into despair, Kael snapped his fingers.
Deep-blue formations unfolded around the supermassive black hole—layer upon layer of cosmic arrays, rotating with surgical precision. They stabilized the singularity, locking its collapse at the brink of rebirth.
Behind Kael, the Great Law of Dominion manifested.
Golden radiance poured forth like a celestial tide, streaming into the black hole—injecting order, authority, and purpose.
Then—
Kael extended two fingers.
The Law of Space and the Law of Time surged forward simultaneously.
Their collision sent a shockwave through the void—silent, yet absolute.
From that convergence, a colossal sword manifested—
nine light-years long, forged from condensed spacetime and sovereign law.
Kael's aura wavered.
This act pushed him to his limits.
Still, he did not hesitate.
With a final, precise motion, he drove the sword forward.
It pierced the heart of the supermassive black hole.
A deep, cosmic hum resonated across existence.
Kael raised a barrier around Nel and the others just as—
Silence shattered.
A soundless surge erupted, faster than light itself, followed by blinding brilliance. Thunderous sparks tore through space. Entire layers of reality crumbled and reformed in an instant.
Then—
A roar echoed.
From the collapsing singularity emerged a dragon—
not of flesh, but of Dominion itself.
Its body was woven from law.
Its scales shimmered with spacetime radiance.
Its presence bent the newborn cosmos around it.
As it coiled through the void, space and time wrapped into a new atmosphere beneath its embrace.
The Milky Way was no longer dead.
It was reborn.
Clouds formed—vast and luminous—rolling like radiant oceans across the newborn heavens.
Pillars of shimmering light rose by the thousands, each spanning light-years, anchoring reality itself.
Entire planes layered upon one another in the sky, unfolding into grand celestial structures and palaces that stretched tens of light-years into infinity, forming the backbone of the newly born galactic domain.
A new galactic plane took shape.
Kael smiled faintly.
Then exhaustion struck.
His vision blurred, his body swayed.
Nel rushed forward, supporting him before he could fall.
Kael steadied himself and looked upon the newborn world.
Once, it had been a shattered wasteland—
lifeless, broken, forgotten.
Now—
It was breathtaking.
Nel stared in awe, voice trembling.
"It's… beautiful.
How can someone give birth to an entire galactic plane?"
Kael was silent for a moment.
Then he answered softly:
"When destruction reaches its absolute end,
creation is no longer an act of power—
but a responsibility."
He did not speak of cultivation levels.
He did not speak of laws or particles.
Only truth.
Then Kael turned to Nel.
"This," Kael said gently,
"is your new home."
He looked across the radiant world.
"It is called Earth."
Time passed.
The survivors began to move—not in panic, not in awe anymore, but with cautious hope. Helters were raised. Voices filled the air. Life, fragile yet determined, took its first true steps upon the reborn world.
Earth had begun its new chapter.
Kael stood at the edge of the sky, watching.
Nel approached him quietly.
"You're leaving," he said.
It wasn't a question.
Kael nodded.
"For a while."
Nel said nothing at first. His gaze drifted across the vast new heavens, the unfamiliar stars, the lands that had only just been given back to life.
"…If something happens," he asked softly,
"who will protect us?"
Kael turned to his.
For the first time, his expression was not distant—nor divine.
It was certain.
"This galactic plane," he said,
"was created by my hand."
"It can withstand enemy attacks far beyond what this region will face."
Nel looked at him.
"And if something stronger comes?"
Kael's eyes lifted toward the endless void beyond Earth.
"If danger arises," he said calmly,
"I will know."
"My will is tied to this realm."
"No matter how far I am—
I can return in an instant."
Nel lowered his head slightly.
He understood.
This world was no longer fragile.
And Kael was no longer meant to remain.
Without another word, Kael stepped back.
Space folded.
The stars shifted.
And before anyone could speak again—
He was gone.
Kael departed Earth alone.
Far from the newborn galactic plane—beyond its radiant layers and stabilizing laws—he slowed within the silent void. Here, there was no light, no direction, only the endless fabric of existence stretching without boundary.
A memory surfaced.
A sequence of symbols and coordinates, spoken not with certainty, but with trust.
Ω = LAN-07 : F-221 : V-93
Nel's voice echoed faintly in his mind.
he had not known where the coordinates led. Only that they had been passed down through his family for generations—carved into relics, whispered in times of calamity, preserved as something sacred even when their meaning was forgotten.
At the time, he had simply offered them to Kael.
Not as a demand.
Not as a request.
But as one offers everything to a savior.
Kael's gaze sharpened.
He released his spiritual awareness.
It expanded silently, without fanfare—no waves, no visible disturbance—yet the void itself reacted. Layer upon layer of spacetime unfolded before his perception, like countless overlapping veils. Each layer vibrated at a different frequency, governed by distinct laws, temporal flows, and spatial constants.
He did not search blindly.
He aligned.
His awareness adjusted its resonance, fine-tuning itself to match the coordinates' encoded spacetime signature. Slowly, precisely, the fluctuation patterns began to overlap.
A hum spread through the void.
Space quivered.
Time stuttered for a fraction of an instant.
The moment the resonance matched—
Kael knew.
His eyes opened.
"So that is where you lead," he murmured.
He raised one hand.
With a simple motion, he formed a seal.
Several orbs of condensed energy manifested around him—silent, perfectly spherical, each containing tightly folded spatial authority. They drifted outward, positioning themselves in an exact octagonal formation.
At his command, they struck simultaneously.
The void shattered—not violently, but methodically.
Each orb embedded itself into space, lines of radiant formation-light connecting them in sharp, geometric precision. Runes unfolded along the edges, ancient symbols spinning as the array activated.
Then—
A wormhole tore open.
Its interior was not darkness, but spiraling layers of compressed spacetime, folding inward endlessly. The destination lay unfathomably far—
One hundred and twenty million light-years away.
Beyond the Milky Way.
Beyond local galactic clusters.
Deep within the Laniakea Supercluster—a vast cosmic structure formed from hundreds of galaxies, stretching across a total span of more than five hundred million light-years.
Kael stepped forward without hesitation.
The instant he entered, the formation collapsed. The wormhole sealed behind him, and space rearranged itself seamlessly, leaving no trace of disturbance—as though nothing had ever occurred.
Within the tunnel of warped spacetime, time lost meaning.
Currents of causality flowed past him like distant echoes. Entire galactic tides brushed against his perception, only to be left behind. The journey was not instantaneous—but neither was it slow.
Then—
On the far side of existence—
Space trembled.
Energy fluctuations surged violently, resonating across intergalactic distances. Thunderous sparks tore through the void as spacetime buckled under sudden pressure.
A wormhole burst open.
Kael stepped out.
The Laniakea Supercluster revealed itself before him—an ocean of galaxies bound together by vast gravitational rivers. Starfields burned like scattered embers across infinity, their light ancient beyond mortal comprehension.
Kael did not admire the view.
The first thing he did was suppress himself.
He closed his eyes.
Within his body, incomprehensible power—capable of rewriting cosmic structures—was sealed layer by layer. Laws withdrew. Authority folded inward. His aura diminished rapidly, restrained by his own will.
When he opened his eyes again, his presence had changed completely.
No divine pressure.
No galactic resonance.
No trace of a Realm Core sovereign.
He now radiated only the cultivation of an Astral Vein Initiate, mid-stage.
Kael extended his spiritual awareness once more.
It spread like an invisible tide, gliding across interstellar distances, brushing against currents of gravity, stellar winds, and folded spacetime layers. Compared to earlier, his perception was now tightly restrained—precise, controlled.
Then—
His awareness trembled.
Kael's brows knit almost imperceptibly.
Nearby, he sensed another civilization.
Not distant. Not vague.
Close.
That alone was enough to surprise him.
But what truly halted his awareness was something else.
A black spot.
It did not exist as matter, nor as energy. It was a blemish in the fabric of spacetime itself—an absence where presence should have been. Laws bent unnaturally around it, like light skirting the edge of an abyss.
Kael focused, condensing his spiritual energy, refining it into a razor-thin thread as he attempted to perceive it more clearly.
The moment his awareness touched the black spot—
Boom.
An enormous, overwhelming force erupted outward.
Not violently.
Not chaotically.
But with absolute authority.
His spiritual sense was repelled instantly, crushed and expelled as though swatted aside by an unseen hand. Space itself hardened against him, rejecting his intrusion.
Kael's eyes opened.
Instead of alarm—
He smirked faintly.
"So," he murmured, voice calm, almost amused,
"there truly is something monstrous hiding here."
Only something vastly superior—something rooted deeper into the laws of existence—could repel him so effortlessly while remaining dormant.
That black spot was no anomaly.
It was a core.
And whatever resided within it…
Even in his current state, Kael knew one thing with certainty:
It was not something to be taken lightly.
Time passed.
As Kael traveled closer, the void gradually changed.
Traffic lanes of warped space became visible—stable corridors carved through the cosmos. Artificial constellations pulsed faintly, serving as navigational anchors. The once-chaotic flows of spacetime now moved in orderly patterns.
Then—
A city appeared.
Kael slowed.
Before him stretched a colossal metropolis, spanning more than five hundred light-years from edge to edge. It floated within space like a continent of steel and light, its architecture layered vertically and horizontally, interconnected by luminous bridges and spatial folds.
At the heart of the city stood a dome-like gate.
It was vast beyond comprehension, its surface etched with countless sigils and reinforced by converging formations. The dome did not merely guard space—it anchored it, suppressing distortions and sealing whatever lay beyond.
Around the gate stood guards.
Kael's gaze sharpened.
Each warrior radiated pressure far exceeding his own current cultivation. Their auras were stable, honed, terrifyingly refined. Some stood in silence, others floated in formation, clad in advanced armor woven with both technology and cultivation arrays.
Behind them loomed military installations.
Fortresses bristling with weapons.
Docked battleships the size of small moons.
Weapons platforms capable of annihilating star systems with a single command.
Kael finally understood.
This—
This was the black spot he had sensed earlier.
The city itself was not the threat.
It was the lock.
And beyond that gate…
Something truly terrifying was sealed.
Kael exhaled slowly.
He entered the city.
Within, life flourished in staggering diversity. Countless beings moved through the vast streets—some towering, some small, some bearing wings, horns, scales, or mechanical augmentations.
Yet among them—
Kael recognized a familiar form.
Flesh and blood.
Human.
Not weakened descendants.
Not fractured offshoots.
But fully realized, genetically stabilized, cultivation-capable humans.
Kael's expression grew serious.
In an instant, he understood.
This was no ordinary city.
This was the stronghold.
The central bastion of flesh-and-blood lifeforms.
The core region of humanity—a domain that extended its influence across the entire Laniakea Supercluster, and even into neighboring superclusters.
The strongest base humanity possessed.
And he had stepped into it knowing nothing.
No identity.
No history.
No currency.
No alliances.
Kael glanced down at himself.
He wore a simple black robe traced with faint golden threads. No insignia. No markings of rank or faction. His long hair fell freely behind him, dark against the glow of the city lights, while his golden eyes reflected the moving starways overhead.
To this place—
He was just another wanderer.
Kael walked forward, blending into the flow of the city.
A sudden force struck Kael's shoulder.
"Hey—you!"
He was shoved violently aside.
Kael halted mid-step, his body barely moving despite the impact.
Before him stood a bulky figure nearly twice his width—purple skin layered with thick scales, curved horns rising from his head. He wore glowing violet armor etched with combat runes, and in one hand rested a massive axe humming faintly with power.
The warrior looked down at Kael, eyes filled with contempt, as though staring at dirt beneath his boots.
"How dare you block the path of the young master," he snarled.
Kael turned his head slightly, giving the man a sideways glance.
From his presence… his pressure…
First Level Warrior. Beginner stage.
Nothing more.
Kael's expression did not change.
He reached out—
And grasped the warrior's wrist.
"First," Kael said calmly, his voice low and even,
"I don't like it when someone grabs my shoulder."
The grip tightened.
There was no burst of energy. No visible force.
Yet the warrior's face twisted instantly.
A sharp cry escaped his throat as his knees buckled. Bone creaked. Muscles screamed. He was forced down to one knee, his axe clattering against the ground as pain flooded his senses.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
In the distance, Kael noticed movement.
A royal procession advanced through the city streets.
Eight elite warriors moved in formation, their auras disciplined and sharp. At their center walked a young man clad in pristine white armor. His black hair fell neatly behind him, his pale skin marked with faint white scales. His eyes—vertical, feline pupils—swept across the surroundings with practiced arrogance.
Kael released the kneeling warrior and shifted his gaze.
He scanned the group once.
The strongest among them…
Astral Vein Initiate. Mid-stage.
No higher.
Kael spoke softly, more to himself than anyone else.
"Second," he said,
"no one is qualified enough to force me kneel."
A trace of spiritual pressure leaked out.
Just a trace.
But it was enough.
Invisible killing intent washed over the procession like a blade drawn across their throats. The air turned heavy. Breathing became difficult. Instinct screamed danger—pure, unavoidable death.
No one dared to move.
No one dared to speak.
The warriors felt it clearly.
If they took one more step…
They would die.
Kael turned away.
He walked past them calmly, disappearing into the flow of the city.
Behind him, the young master stood frozen, cold sweat soaking his back. His heart pounded violently as though trying to escape his chest.
He had felt it.
He had stood at the edge of death.
Only after Kael vanished did the young master finally exhale.
He turned sharply to his strongest guard.
"That man…" he said slowly,
"He's an Astral Vein Initiate—same level as you. Yet you all froze."
The guard swallowed, then spoke honestly.
"Young master… at first glance, he seemed ordinary. But when his spiritual pressure surfaced, I realized something."
He hesitated, then continued.
"He wasn't releasing it."
"He was suppressing it."
The guard lowered his head.
"That man is no ordinary cultivator."
The young master fell silent.
After a moment, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
"…Letting talent like that walk away so easily," he muttered,
"would be a waste."
His eyes sharpened.
The next instant—
He dashed forward, chasing after Kael.
Kael continued walking through the city.
As he moved, he listened more than he spoke, observing the flow of traffic, the exchanges between merchants and mercenaries, the patrol patterns of armed units stationed at regular intervals. Gradually, fragments of information surfaced.
This place was known as Silver Star City Base.
A fortress-city.
Not merely a trade hub, but a frontline stronghold—one governed by an Immortal-level powerhouse. Its primary purpose was not commerce, nor culture, but war.
War against the Outer Region Beings.
Invaders.
Existences that came from beyond known superclusters, beyond mapped spacetime routes. Creatures—or entities—that periodically launched large-scale incursions, threatening the stability of humanity's territories.
Yet the details were fragmented.
Some spoke of living weapons.
Others whispered of civilizations devoured whole.
Where they came from…
What they truly were…
No one seemed to know.
Or perhaps—
Those who did were not allowed to speak.
Kael frowned slightly.
Without currency, identity, or access to higher channels, acquiring reliable information would be difficult. He exhaled quietly.
"So even here," he muttered,
"truth has a price."
A voice suddenly spoke from behind him.
"Looks like you're in a bit of trouble."
Kael halted.
He did not turn immediately.
The voice continued, hurried this time.
"Hey—wait. Hear me out first. I don't harbor any ill intentions toward you."
Kael turned slowly.
The young master from earlier stood there, his posture noticeably less arrogant. His guards remained a short distance behind him, alert but restrained.
Kael's brow furrowed faintly.
The young man reacted instantly.
"I mean it," he said quickly. "Really. I want the opposite."
Kael's golden eyes met his.
"…Then?" Kael said flatly.
"I want a friendly relationship."
Kael looked at him for a moment—then turned away.
"I'm not interested in being your friend."
The rejection was calm. Absolute.
The young man froze, then inhaled sharply.
"…Alright," he said after a pause. "Then I'll apologize."
He bowed slightly.
"For my earlier behavior."
This time, there was no pretense.
Kael stopped.
Silence stretched.
Then he spoke.
"Tell me honestly," Kael said, voice low,
"what is your real purpose?"
His gaze sharpened.
"And don't play tricks with me. If you do—this city will become your graveyard."
A wave of spiritual pressure rolled outward.
It wasn't explosive.
It didn't tear space.
But the young man's body stiffened instantly. His breath hitched, and a tremor ran through his limbs as instinct screamed danger.
"…Alright," he said quickly, voice strained.
"Let's… let's talk somewhere else."
They met in a private dining hall shortly after.
The chamber was lavish—walls formed from layered star-crystal, tables engraved with flowing constellations, servants moving silently between courses prepared from rare cosmic fauna.
Kael sat calmly, untouched by the atmosphere.
Across from him sat the young master, flanked by his strongest guard.
"I'll introduce myself properly," the young man said, regaining composure.
"My name is Noxen. Fourth Prince of the Eonfall Empire."
He spoke with practiced confidence.
"The Eonfall Empire controls more than thirty galaxies directly, with several additional satellite domains under its influence. Within the Laniakea Supercluster, our authority—"
Kael raised a hand.
"Spare me."
Noxen stopped mid-sentence.
"I don't care about your empire," Kael said bluntly. "Or your title."
His gaze shifted—toward the distant, massive dome-like gate visible through the transparent starwall.
"What I want," Kael continued,
"is information."
"Outer Region Beings."
"The war."
"Where they come from."
"And what lies beyond that gate."
The room fell silent.
Noxen followed Kael's gaze.
His expression slowly changed.
Noxen studied Kael for a moment.
By now, he was certain of one thing—
This was Kael's first time in this region of the cosmos.
Yet he did not point it out.
Some truths were better offered freely.
He leaned back slightly and spoke in a steady voice.
"In the vast cosmos," Noxen began,
"there has never been only one race."
"Countless civilizations exist—flesh-and-blood beings, energy lifeforms, hybrid entities, machine consciousnesses, and things that defy clear classification."
Kael listened silently.
"They all fight," Noxen continued,
"for territory, for resources, for worlds where cultivation progresses faster. This struggle has existed since time immemorial. No one remembers when it began."
His expression darkened.
"But three hundred million years ago… something changed."
Kael's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Beings began to emerge," Noxen said slowly,
"from nowhere."
"No origin world."
"No traceable civilization."
"No discernible culture."
"They appeared suddenly—across different regions of the universe."
Noxen's fingers tightened against the table.
"What made them special," he said,
"was their purpose."
"They do not seek territory."
"They do not seek resources."
"They do not cultivate."
"Their sole instinct… is destruction."
The room seemed colder.
"They annihilate worlds. Collapse civilizations. Corrupt spacetime. Wherever they appear, nothing stable remains."
Noxen exhaled deeply.
"They are called many things across different regions. But one fact is universal—"
"To stand in their presence," he said grimly,
"the minimum required strength is Void-Touched Sovereign, Level Four."
Kael's expression remained calm.
But inwardly, he registered the weight of those words.
So low-level beings don't even qualify to witness them…
Noxen glanced at him.
"You're listening carefully," he noted.
Kael did not respond.
Noxen continued.
"And that dome gate you asked about…"
His gaze shifted toward the distant structure, visible even from here.
"That gate's existence," he said,
"can be described as a path."
"A path to the peak of humanity's limit."
Beyond that gate lay another city.
"Primus Void City."
The name itself carried pressure.
"Only the elite of the elite may enter," Noxen said.
"Geniuses beyond comparison. Powerhouses who have crushed countless peers. Individuals whose potential is considered irreplaceable."
He paused.
"It is one of humanity's five greatest strongholds."
"If you somehow gain entry into Primus Void City," he said quietly,
"even an Immortal-level cultivator would treat you with respect."
"Kneeling would not be an exaggeration."
Kael's gaze remained fixed on the gate.
"And the one who rules that city?" Kael asked.
Noxen's voice lowered instinctively.
"He is considered," Noxen said,
"one of the top beings in the entire universe."
Not just humanity.
The universe.
Silence filled the dining hall.
Kael's gaze lingered on the dome-like gate.
The more he learned, the more his curiosity burned. Not ambition—
but a need to understand what kind of civilization required such a lock… and what kind of terror lay beyond it.
Then—
A scream tore through the air.
It was sharp.
Desperate.
Female.
Kael's eyes snapped away from the dome.
Not far from the main street, a scene unfolded that made the surrounding brilliance feel obscene.
A girl lay on the ground.
Her clothes were torn and stained dark with blood. Heavy chains bound her wrists and ankles, biting deep into bruised flesh. Her palms were scraped raw, her legs trembling as though they could no longer support her weight.
She was not fully human.
Soft feline ears twitched atop her head, matted with dust. Blonde hair spilled messily over her face, and behind her—five pale tails lay dragged across the ground, limp and dirtied.
A beast-human.
She clutched her head, screaming as a young man stood over her.
He laughed.
A whip cracked through the air.
Snap.
It tore across her back.
She cried out, body convulsing as pain ripped through her. The young man's face twisted into delight, his lips curled in a smirk as though savoring every sound.
Around them—
People walked past.
Some glanced briefly.
Most didn't even slow.
As if nothing was happening.
As if this cruelty were no different from street noise.
The girl's eyes—wide, glassy, filled with agony—darted desperately from face to face.
Nothing.
Only indifference.
Kael felt something stir within him.
Not rage.
Not yet.
Something colder.
Then—
Her gaze met his.
For the briefest moment, time seemed to slow.
In her eyes lived pain that felt endless—
and beneath it, a faint, fragile spark.
Hope.
Not reasoned hope.
Instinct.
She felt it.
That this man—this stranger—was different.
Her lips trembled.
Barely audible, she whispered:
"P-please… h-help me…"
Something inside Kael snapped into alignment.
He took a step forward.
—
A hand clamped around his wrist.
"Don't."
Noxen's grip was tight.
His voice was low—urgent.
"What do you think you're doing?" Noxen said quietly. "I know how you feel."
Kael turned his head slowly.
Noxen met his gaze, expression grim.
"But believe me—this is common," Noxen continued.
"Slavery. Killing for amusement. Breaking the weak."
He exhaled sharply.
"That's the bitter truth of the universe. The strong devour the weak. They play with them. Then discard them."
Kael's eyes flicked back to the girl.
Another lash fell.
She screamed.
Noxen tightened his grip.
"And that man?" Noxen said.
"His family's ancestor is a Level Four Warrior."
His voice dropped even further.
"Not someone you can casually provoke."
Kael did not answer.
His face was calm.
Too calm.
But behind his golden eyes, something ancient and heavy stirred—
something that did not belong to this city's rules.
Nor to its excuses.
The girl screamed again.
And for the first time since entering Silver Star City—
Kael felt the urge to interfere.
Not as a savior.
Not as a god.
But as something far more dangerous.
Kael's fingers curled slowly.
His fist tightened.
Before Noxen could say anything else, a voice rang out—loud, theatrical, dripping with indulgence.
"Everyone!"
The young man's voice echoed through the street.
"Today, I've prepared a little show. Something to add some fun to the day."
He yanked the girl up by her hair.
She cried out as her feet dragged across the ground, chains clattering loudly. His grip was rough, deliberate. Malice gleamed openly in his eyes now—no need to hide it.
People stopped.
This time, they didn't just pass by.
They turned to watch.
The young man grinned, enjoying the attention. Then he snapped his fingers.
A spatial ripple flickered beside him.
A case appeared—small, rectangular, hidden beneath layers of cloth.
"Recently," he said casually, "I went on a little trip."
His fingers hooked into the fabric.
"And during it, I found something… really good."
He pulled the cloth away.
The world seemed to stop.
Inside the case lay five skeletal remains.
Arranged neatly.
Small.
Fragile.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then—
A sound tore through the air.
"No—no—no…"
The girl's voice cracked, breaking into raw, animal despair.
"It's not real… it can't be real…"
Her body convulsed as she struggled against the chains, eyes locked on the remains.
"Dad… Mom… no… please…"
Her scream shattered into incoherent sobs.
"Aaaah—!"
Laughter answered her.
"Hahaha—!"
The young man threw his head back, utterly delighted.
"It's great," he said cheerfully. "I love that expression."
Tears streamed down the girl's face as she screamed at him, voice hoarse and broken.
"Why… why did you do this?!"
"You promised!" she cried. "You said if I became your slave, you wouldn't touch my parents!"
Her chest heaved.
"Then why… why?!"
The young man shrugged.
A lazy, careless motion.
"I changed my mind," he said, smiling. "Haha."
Around them—
People laughed.
Some openly.
Some nervously.
Some with eyes averted, pretending not to see.
That sound—
Laughter layered over despair—
Was the final thread.
Something inside Kael snapped.
Not explosively.
Not loudly.
But completely.
The air around him went still.
Too still.
Even Noxen felt it.
A pressure—not fully released, not even deliberate—leaked from Kael's body like a shadow slipping its leash.
Cold.
Absolute.
Unforgiving.
Kael's golden eyes darkened.
In that moment, the city's rules no longer mattered.
Lineage no longer mattered.
Level no longer mattered.
Only one thing remained—
Judgment.
And it had just been passed.
Kael's fingers loosened.
Then tightened again.
His voice was quiet.
Almost thoughtful.
"The law of the cosmos," he said,
"states that the strong devour the weak."
He lifted his gaze.
"Then that law applies to me as well… doesn't it?"
The ground beneath his feet shattered.
Not cracked.
Shattered—space itself buckling as if unable to bear his presence.
A spiritual pressure descended.
It was not a wave.
It was a collapse.
Everyone in the hall gasped simultaneously, lungs locking as though the air had turned solid. Knees buckled. Hearts hammered wildly. The atmosphere grew thick—so thick it felt like drowning.
This was no longer intimidation.
This was killing intent.
Kael took a single step forward.
BOOM.
Space burst apart.
The hall trembled violently, walls groaning as ancient formations flickered and began to fail. Cracks raced through the floor, through the pillars, through reality itself.
Noxen's strongest guard staggered back, face pale.
"Your Highness," he hissed urgently, "we must leave—now!"
But Noxen did not move.
Instead—
He smiled.
A slow, sharp smile.
"I was right," Noxen said quietly.
"This man… Kael… is truly a terrifying existence."
His eyes gleamed with certainty.
"No matter what happens today," he continued,
"we must never become his enemy."
He turned sharply.
"Contact the ancestor. Immediately."
Then—
He looked back.
Kael was already walking.
Each step he took left fractured space in its wake, the ground collapsing behind him as though reality itself recoiled.
The guards reacted at last.
Dozens—then hundreds—moved in unison, forming layers upon layers of defensive formations, weapons raised, energy roaring to life.
Kael's gaze shifted.
First—
To the girl.
She lay on the ground, sobbing soundlessly now, eyes empty, broken beyond words.
Then—
To the young man.
Kael's killing intent exploded.
His golden eyes burned—not with madness, but with judgment.
The next instant—
A shrill tearing sound echoed through the hall.
No screams followed.
Only silence.
Where hundreds of guards had stood—
There was nothing intact.
Bodies were flung aside like discarded shells. Defensive arrays collapsed as if they had never existed. Weapons clattered lifelessly to the ground.
It was not a battle.
It was eradication.
In front of a Level Three existence—
First-level warriors were nothing more than dust.
The hall froze.
No one dared breathe.
No one dared move.
Because in front of them—
Death had descended.
The young man screamed at last.
Pure terror seized him as he turned and ran, abandoning all dignity, all pride, all lineage.
Kael smiled coldly.
His spiritual pressure surged again.
The remaining guards were crushed where they stood, bodies collapsing inward as though squeezed by an invisible fist—lifeless before they hit the ground.
Kael's gaze locked onto the fleeing young man.
Spiritual pressure wrapped around him like chains.
Crack.
Both legs shattered instantly, torn from beneath him.
The young man slammed to the floor, his scream echoing through the hall—raw, shrill, and desperate.
Death was dancing.
And the young man's screams were its melody.
Kael moved.
He appeared before the girl in an instant.
BOOM.
His descent shattered the ground, a massive crater blooming outward like a fallen star. Dust and fractured stone surged into the air before being crushed flat by his presence.
The girl looked up.
Kael stood there—silhouetted by broken light, his robe torn, his body bathed in the blood of those who had tried to bar his path.
To her—
He did not look like a cultivator.
He looked like retribution given form.
Her trembling lips parted.
"…Tha—thank… you…"
The words barely escaped, fragile and broken.
Kael's killing intent receded slightly as he turned to her.
His voice, when he spoke, was calm.
"How do you want to deal with the scum?"
The young man's eyes widened in pure terror.
He crawled forward desperately, ignoring his shattered legs, gaze locked onto the girl.
"Please—please—!" he sobbed. "Tell him to let me go! I beg you! I'll do anything—anything!"
The girl did not look at him.
She turned slowly.
Her eyes fell upon the skeletal remains laid out before her.
Her parents.
Silence stretched.
Then she spoke.
Her voice did not shake.
"I want him," she said softly,
"to suffer the same misery my parents felt."
Kael nodded.
No hesitation.
No judgment.
Only acceptance.
Spiritual power surged.
It wrapped around the young man completely, sealing space, locking time. His body stiffened as an invisible force gripped him from within.
"No—no—please—!" he screamed. "Forgive me! I didn't mean it—ahhh!"
Kael's golden eyes were cold.
Unmoved.
He raised one hand.
The air screamed.
A horrifying pressure descended—not upon flesh, but upon existence itself. The young man's scream rose beyond human limits as his body convulsed violently.
Then—
Bones cried out.
His skeleton was forcibly torn from his body, ripped free by an authority that allowed no resistance. The sound was not of breaking flesh, but of reality being violated.
He stared at Kael one final time.
In that instant—
Regret flooded him.
Not regret for his cruelty.
Not regret for the lives he had destroyed.
But regret for a single mistake.
Why did I provoke death itself…?
Snap.
The scream was cut short.
The skeleton fell heavily to the ground before the girl—whole, intact, stripped of all life.
The remaining body collapsed beside it.
Lifeless.
Silence consumed the hall.
Kael lifted his gaze.
His presence flooded the space like a tide of death. Fear crushed every soul present. One by one, they fell to their knees, heads lowered, eyes averted—afraid that even breathing would draw his attention.
Then Kael turned back.
He reached out and took the girl's hand.
A simple gesture.
A silent vow.
Protection.