Ch. 5 - Vicious Intent
The moment Chief Tieanano's head hit the marble floor, everything unraveled.
His blood spread like a blooming flower across the cold tiles.
"Fall back! FALL BACK!" an agent screamed, voice cracking with panic.
"It's VEREZ!"
The agents scattered, and the underground parking lot, once an organized base of operations, erupted into sheer pandemonium.
"Form defensive formations!"
"Pull Hannah OUT!"
"WHERE ARE THE BARRIERS?!"
"He's just one man, for god's sake—"
But Verez was already in the middle of them.
"Come on. Let's make this interesting."
He whispered, his voice calm, as blood already soaked the sleeves of his hoodie.
Two agents rushed him, blades charged with lightning.
He caught one blade barehanded—and crushed it like foil.
The second agent blinked—
—and found his own spine dangling from Verez's hand like a ribbon.
"N-no... please—"
Crack.
Neck twisted. Lifeless.
Hannah roared, returning to the fray with four other high-rank Awakened.
"Go full formation NOW! Keep him boxed in! DO NOT get close—"
Too late.
Verez moved, reappearing behind them in a pulse of black mist.
A kick sent one agent flying into a concrete pillar, his skull reduced to pulp.
He grabbed another by the mouth and slammed him through the hood of a car so hard the frame bent like paper.
"Are you really soldiers?"
Verez whispered.
"How pathetic."
Gunfire.
Blades.
Runes.
Mana-tech.
Nothing mattered.
He walked through bullets like smoke.
Dodged fireballs before they were cast.
Disarmed men by twisting their fingers back until they snapped like branches.
One man launched a gravity field—
Verez threw a corpse through it. The feedback exploded, flinging bodies.
A healer screamed as he tried to cast, only for his hands to be sliced off.
"No more healing."
Verez whispered, almost kindly, before snapping the man's neck.
"Fall back! Regroup!"
"HE'S CUT OFF ESCAPE—HE'S AT EVERY EXIT—"
"How?! HOW THE FUCK IS HE DOING THIS?!"
The underground lot echoed with screams and gunshots. Dozens fell by the minute.
Blood slicked the floors.
Limbs were torn.
Eyes were gouged.
Men screamed for their mothers.
For gods.
For anything.
But there was no mercy.
Only Verez.
He carved his way through them like he'd done it a hundred times before.
And maybe he had.
A cluster of high-ranking Awakened formed a defense circle.
They activated full Aegis Shields, a synchronization spell never used outside of world-ending threats.
They fused their mana into one shared field, pulsing with celestial sigils.
"This is our final shot. Focus everything. Now!" someone shouted.
A beam—massive, holy, humming with light—launched toward Verez.
For a moment, hope sparked.
Then the beam stopped mid-air.
Floating.
Verez stood inside it.
Unburned.
Unmoving.
Then, with a flick of his finger—
The entire attack reversed, exploding back into its casters.
They died screaming.
At last, the few remaining agents, bleeding, broken, watched Verez walk, untouched, among the ruins of what had been a full battalion.
The battlefield had fallen into silence.
Only the buzz of dying fluorescent lights, the drip of blood from shattered beams above.
Verez stood alone amidst a sea of corpses. His boots soaked in blood.
The air tasted of copper and ozone, thick with the stench of scorched flesh and broken magic.
He raised a hand slowly.
Casually. Like a teacher asking for order in a classroom.
His voice echoed clear and calm, yet it slithered into their bones like a cold wind.
"If anyone here wishes to join my legion, raise your hand now… And I might just spare you."
There were only a few left—Hannah, on her knees, cradling the half-burnt body of an agent; a young rookie, shielding two barely-breathing comrades; and five others, bleeding, trembling, broken.
The survivors stared at him with wide, fearful eyes.
No one moved.
Then, from the corner of the rubble, a coughing fit broke the silence.
A bloodied Awakened veteran propped himself up against a broken support pillar.
His name was Ruvan, known for leading several global defense raids.
His eyes burned.
His body, broken. His chest caved in from a previous impact.
Yet he spat a glob of thick blood onto the concrete, dragging a shaky breath into his punctured lung.
"Go to hell..."
Ruvan growled, gritting his teeth.
"We're not cowards... we die warriors."
Verez paused, gaze dropping on him.
Then he smiled. Slowly.
"Admirable."
He walked over.
Ruvan tried to lift his blade—but his wrist was snapped with a kick so precise it might've been surgical.
Verez leaned down, whispering into his ear.
"But guess what? I don't give a fuck."
And with a single hand, he began to rip Ruvan's head, pulling Ruvan's hair slowly as he struggles, spine trailing behind like a macabre trophy.
He held it up for the others to see.
"Next?"
"You monster!!" Hannah screamed, her voice cracking, raw from smoke and sorrow.
She launched herself at him with her halberd glowing white-hot, her signature Divine Burst engaged.
She slashed—
Verez caught it with two fingers.
"Cute."
With a flick of his wrist, her weapon shattered into glowing shards.
She flew back, smashing through two parked armored transports, her head piercing through a mana-tech spear.
Verez tilted his head, walking toward her lifeless body.
Then, he suddenly gets a notification from the System .
> | You have completed the [Bloodshed] quest. |
> | All qualifications have been met. |
> | You have proven your worth. |
> | You have been promoted to [Administrator]. |
> | Welcome back, Master. |
Verez chuckles.
"Greetings."
He's interrupted as three of the survivors tried to run.
Verez didn't even chase them.
He snapped, and their bodies twisted mid-air like marionettes under a god's cruel hand.
Their limbs bent backward. Necks spiraled.
They crumpled to the ground like discarded toys.
Another man, sobbing, begged on his knees.
"Please—my daughter—"
Verez looked at him.
And just whispered, "Like i care."
His head exploded.
There was silence—tense and suffocating.
Smoke curled around the battle-torn mall remains.
Blood pooled under crushed pillars and crumbled marble.
Corpses—burnt, bisected, eviscerated—littered the field.
From the smoke emerged Verez.
Unscathed.
Calm.
Leisurely strolling forward as if walking through a garden.
And in his gloved hand, glowing faintly with divine runes etched in a language lost to mortals, was the Elixir.
Thick.
Black-gold.
Whispering power in a thousand dead tongues.
The Apostles froze.
Vesaria, 4th Apostle, stepped forward, her voice sharp.
"So you didn't drink it? Good."
Verez chuckled lowly, stopping just a few paces away.
"Drink it?"
He raised the vial, inspecting it in the light like it was a vintage wine.
"Please. I was saving it for you guys."
The Apostles stares darkened.
The 2nd Apostle, Moiranna, hissed.
"You aren't supposed to hold it like that."
Verez smirked, almost charming in the way psychopaths are when they think they're hilarious.
He continued with a smirk, his voice shifting into mocking theatrics.
"This was the deal, wasn't it?"
He paused. "A fair trade…"
He turned to Lazar directly, extending the Elixir toward him.
Lazar stepped forward, eyeing it like a lion tracking prey.
Their hands nearly touched.
Then—
CRACK.
The sound echoed like a gunshot.
Verez crushed the vial in his bare palm.
The glass screamed before shattering.
The divine liquid spilled out midair—
—and then it ignited into a swirling column of black fire, hissing and shrieking like a thousand tortured souls before vanishing into ash.
Dead silence.
The Apostles stared.
Eyes wide.
Mouths agape.
Lazar's pupils shrank into voids.
He didn't speak.
Didn't scream.
He moved.
A flash of pure light.
A sonic boom of air displaced—
The floor cracked behind him from the sheer force of departure—
He lunged straight for Verez at light speed.
But Verez didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
He just smiled—
—and kicked.
BOOM.
Lazar was sent flying, his body skipping across the broken terrain like a ragdoll, demolishing concrete pillars, crashing through the mall's steel reinforcements before slamming into a mana-shielded wall that shattered on impact.
Dust exploded outward.
Verez turned his head toward the others, cracking his neck nonchalantly.
"Oh come on," he said, smirking. "Don't tell me that was your fastest?"
The Apostles stood, now clearly unsettled.
An Apostle, narrowed his eyes.
"What are you…?" he growled.
"That power… You shouldn't be capable of this. Not even with the Elixir—"
"Ah," Verez interrupted with mock realization, "but I didn't drink the Elixir."
"You're lying."
Verez simply shrugged, that same maddening smile playing on his lips.
"You saw it yourself."
The 5th Apostle, Rakan, roared and summoned a spear made of collapsed neutron star energy, a forbidden weapon of celestial density.
He hurled it at Verez.
It split the air.
Reality warped behind it.
But Verez raised a finger—and the spear stopped.
Dead in mid-air.
Like it hit a wall of time itself.
Then—
He snapped.
And the spear crumbled into dust.
"Is that it?" he chuckled.
The 6th and 8th Apostles charged in unison, blurring into a flurry of divine blades and infernal curses.
Verez didn't dodge.
He let them hit him.
Every blade.
Every strike.
Every cursed spell.
They passed through him like he was made of smoke.
The 8th stumbled, confused.
Verez turned to him, whispering.
"Weakass."
He opened his hand—
—and the 8th Apostle's spine twisted outward, bursting through his chest in a fountain of gore before his body collapsed, twitching.
The others reeled in horror.
Vesaria hissed through gritted teeth, backing away.
"What are you—"
The 10th Apostle, more strategic, activated an interdimensional escape portal only for Verez to somehow emerge from the portal, cutting it in half.
"Caught you."
Then killing him.
Verez moved without motion, a ghost in the shape of a man, tearing through the Apostles like parchment in fire.
One lunged at him with a blade forged from the bones of ancient gods.
Verez caught it between two fingers, smiled, and twisted.
The blade shattered.
So did the wielder's arm.
Then their torso.
Then their existence.
Another Apostle unleashed an entire storm of temporal anomalies, trying to erase Verez from a timeline before his birth.
Verez blinked.
The timeline wept and collapsed—
The Apostle crumbled into ashes, screaming in reverse, devoured by their own paradox.
Another charged with a void bomb stitched with angelic souls. It screamed as it ignited.
Verez caught the blast like a bubble, compressed it into a glowing marble between his palms—then flicked it back into their face.
What followed was not an explosion—
It was obliteration.
The Apostles panicked now.
Spells meant to destroy nations were cast in unison, reality melting at the seams.
But he—
He walked through it.
Unbothered.
He impaled one with their own summoned avatar of war, commanding it like a puppet.
He crushed another's soul mid-chant, laughing as their final curse turned inwards.
"How boring," he sighed as another tried to flee.
A gesture—
They froze, midair—then twisted. Their bones snapped in a chain, organs rearranged into art before they collapsed into meat.
One tried to negotiate.
He didn't even look at them.
Just said, "Too late."
Their head exploded.
One after another.
🔥 Fire.
🧊 Ice.
✨ Light.
🌑 Shadow.
🔊 Sound.
🕜 Time.
🪨 Matter.
💭 Thought—
All failed.
They threw every divine technique, sacred relic, and apocalyptic spell they had.
And yet—
They couldn't even scratch him.
By the end—
Only dust remained.
And the mall had become a grave.
Silent. Still. Smoking with cosmic rot.
Except for one.
Rubble shifted.
A cracked wall exploded outward.
Lazar returned.
He stood tall, blood down one side of his face, his right arm broken, his aura flickering violently with pure destructive entropy.
His eyes locked on Verez, burning with fury, shame, and one final shred of hope for vengeance.
He spoke low, through his teeth:
"You're not a god. You're not a man either. You're a mistake."
Verez raised an eyebrow.
"Then fix me."
Lazar vanished.
The air detonated behind him.
He reappeared mid-strike with a blade composed of dying dimensions, slashing across the void with the power of collapsing multiverses.
Verez dodged.
Effortlessly.
Lazar followed with a series of attacks.
He hit harder than all the Apostles combined.
He even landed a strike.
Verez bled.
Only a drop.
It hit the floor like molten steel.
And the ground screamed.
Lazar surged forward, chaining the moment, his voice booming:
"I don't care what you are. I'll end you—"
Snap.
Verez caught his arm.
Lazar's expression twisted.
"You talk too much."
And then, he crushed him.
Not just the arm.
Everything.
Lazar's body imploded into his own center of mass, his bones turned to black crystal, his soul shattered like porcelain.
The battlefield was a graveyard now, ashen, still, haunted by power that still clung to the very air like fog.
Verez stood at the center.
Calm.
Almost serene.
The blood on his hands shimmered, then dried, vanishing into his skin like it was always meant to be there.
He looked around the wreckage, then turned his head slightly, voice low but clear, almost casual:
"You can step out now."
A pause.
"You're not fooling me, Serpent."
A faint rustle behind a crumbled steel beam. Silence. Then—
From the shadow, he emerged.
Serpent.
His eyes, once piercing, now sunken, glowed blood-red, veins webbing out like lightning bolts due to the over usage of the skill.
The [Serpent's Gaze] was still active, holding civilians under the illusion of normalcy from miles away.
He was shaking.
Barely standing.
But his lips curved into a tired, sheepish smile.
"Tch... should've known you'd sniff me out. Figures."
Verez turned to him, hands in his pockets.
No malice.
No smugness.
Just... acknowledgment.
He nodded once.
"You held it longer than anyone should've. I'm impressed."
Serpent chuckled, coughing blood mid-laugh.
"Didn't think I'd be the last one standing. Not really the plan."
A long silence passed between them.
Then Verez said, softly:
"...Thank you."
Serpent blinked, unsure if he heard right.
"Huh?"
Verez turned, staring at the burning horizon.
"The spell. If you hadn't kept it up, the panic would've torn everything apart before I finished my work. That... would've been messy."
Serpent gave a shaky smile, his red eyes dimming slowly.
"Well, shit. Didn't think you'd appreciate it."
"I do." Verez answered simply.
Another pause.
Then Serpent sighed, leaned back against the beam.
"I guess it's over, huh?"
Verez nodded once. Slowly.
A soft breeze blew through the ruined structure.
Ash danced through the air like snow.
"You know," Serpent muttered, almost to himself, "part of me wanted to see what kind of world you'd make. The other part... just wanted to rest."
He looked up, tired eyes meeting Verez's.
"Guess you'll give me both—"
There was no warning.
No flash of light.
No shift in sound.
Just a blur.
And then—
Silence.
Serpent's body stood perfectly still—eyes wide, blood frozen in his throat.
And then, like porcelain cracking, his form fell apart.
Not violently.
Not grotesquely.
Sliced into perfect fragments.
No pain.
No struggle.
Just... peace.
Verez stood a few steps beyond him, his blade arm retracting into shadow.
"You earned that."
He didn't smirk.
Didn't gloat.
He just stood there for a long second, as if frozen in memory.
It was as if he were paying respect to an old friend.
And in a voice so low it barely reached the dead air, he muttered:
"You really haven't changed... Lynzo."
–TO BE CONTINUED–