Chapter 10: The Magus Who Devours Fate

The assassin's remains had long since turned to dust, but the air still crackled with tension. Valerius stood motionless, his golden eyes cold as he studied the lingering energy in the courtyard. The Blackthorn Cabal had made their move—testing the waters, gauging his defenses.

A mistake.

They would not live to make another.

Unraveling the Threads of Fate

Valerius extended his senses, his mind diving into the intricate weave of reality. The Hidden Fates Protection that shielded him and his clan was still intact, an unseen barrier that severed his destiny from the prying eyes of higher beings. Yet, despite its power, it did not make him invincible—only hidden.

And now, his enemies knew he existed.

Leonidas wiped his blade clean, stepping beside him. "They'll return."

Valerius nodded. "Not as assassins next time. That was merely a scout."

Leonidas's eyes darkened. "Then what do we do?"

Valerius's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.

"We set the stage for their funeral."

The Art of War

In the days that followed, Valerius retreated into the depths of his study. With each passing hour, the AI Chip-like assistant processed calculations, his Disorganized Library of Knowledge offering fragments of wisdom from ancient Magi who had once battled forces beyond mortal comprehension.

Knowledge was power.

He sifted through it all—rituals of blood binding, forgotten techniques of soul tracking, and forbidden hexes that could unravel minds.

Each was a piece of the puzzle.

And then, at last—

He found it.

A trap woven into the fabric of reality itself.

A spell so old it had been buried in the sands of time, nearly lost to history.

"The Predator's Snare."

The Gathering

Under the veil of night, Valerius summoned his five loyal brothers into the ancient war hall. The torches flickered, casting long shadows across the stone walls, where the faded insignias of House Darius whispered of a forgotten past.

He stood before them, hands clasped behind his back, his golden eyes burning with purpose.

"The Blackthorn Cabal has chosen to challenge us," he began, his voice calm but unyielding. "They believe we are weak. They think we can be erased before we rise."

He let the words settle, watching as the anger flickered across his brothers' faces.

"They are mistaken."

Leonidas smirked, crossing his arms. "Then what's the plan?"

Valerius turned, revealing the ritual circle he had painstakingly carved into the cold stone floor.

"We let them come."

The Predator's Snare

The night of the ambush arrived.

The Darius Estate was eerily silent, the air thick with anticipation. Not a single guard patrolled the outer walls. No torches were lit. No defenses were raised.

A deliberate invitation.

From the shadows, the assassins came. Ten this time.

They moved as one, slipping through the darkness like wraiths, their weapons coated in soul-corrupting venom. Their leader, a masked figure clad in black robes, raised a gloved hand—signal given.

They struck.

Yet—the world shifted.

The moment their blades descended, the entire courtyard collapsed into an abyss of darkness.

The assassins vanished.

The Realm of the Devourer

They reappeared within an endless void, the air thick with whispers, the ground an ocean of writhing shadows.

The leader cursed, his voice distorted. "What is this?!"

From the darkness, Valerius's voice echoed.

"Welcome to my domain."

The assassins turned sharply, scanning the void for any sign of their target. But there was nothing—only shifting darkness and an oppressive weight that pressed against their minds.

Then—one of them screamed.

A massive, shadowy tendril had erupted from the ground, coiling around his body. It dragged him down—his soul devoured before he could even react.

Panic set in.

Another fell.

Then another.

And another.

The leader's breath quickened. "A domain spell…?! No—this is something else!"

Above them, Valerius finally revealed himself.

Floating amidst the void, his golden eyes glowed with cruel amusement. The power of his Memory Vault surged, allowing him to recall and wield the knowledge of countless ancient spells as though they were second nature.

His brothers stood behind him, their forms outlined in runic energy, Knight-Aura merged with Magus might.

"You hunted me in the dark," Valerius said, his voice laced with mockery. "Now, the dark has claimed you instead."

The assassin leader roared, unleashing a blast of corrupted mana.

Valerius merely raised a hand.

Time fractured.

The energy attack froze mid-air, distorted and reversed by the power of his Temporal Manipulation Artifact.

And in that moment—Leonidas struck.

The assassin leader's head rolled onto the blackened ground.

The Warning

Dawn broke over the Darius Estate.

A single survivor was left alive, his body bound by arcane chains, his mind shattered by fear.

Valerius stood before him, the rising sun casting his form in an ethereal glow.

"You will deliver a message to your masters," he said, voice like steel.

The assassin trembled. "W-what message…?"

Valerius stepped closer, golden eyes burning.

"Tell them that Valerius Darius does not run."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"He devours."