The sickening, metallic stench of pulverized titan flesh hung heavy in the sub-zero air of the Second Level. The ground was no longer a pristine sheet of permafrost; it was a swamp of dark crimson sludge, littered with shattered shards of midnight-black stone armor and strings of unraveled muscle fibers. Rayn stood in the center of the carnage, his newly regenerated left arm twitching slightly as the fresh nerves fully bound themselves to his soul-core. He wiped a streak of boiling golden blood from his chin, his red-white pupils scanning the disgusting mess beneath his boots with a look of pure, unadulterated irritation.
He dug his boot deep into a mountain of shredded meat, kicking a massive chunk of bone against the cavern wall. "Where the fuck is it?" Rayn growled, his voice echoing off the jagged rock like a curse. "Hey, Vespera, did your dragon eyes catch anything? Did this fat piece of shit swallow the artifact into some hidden stomach cavity, or did my goddamn Dimensional Tempest crush it into dust during the struggle? There's no fucking way a Phase 6 gatekeeper doesn't drop a single speck of loot."
"Calm your fucking tits, Rayn," Vespera said, her voice smooth but carrying the weight of an ancient entity. "Maybe you're correct about it being destroyed, but the thing is, these 'artifacts'—these living Nexis beasts that give your lower-realm worms their pathetic powers—aren't things that die that easily. A true Nexis is a condensed knot of conceptual laws. You can mince the fleshly vessel into a paste, but the core essence should still linger unless it was never there to begin with."
She knelt down, her slender fingers hovering over a pool of stagnant golden magma. Her golden eyes flared with a brief, blinding light as she scanned the residual energy signatures of the dead titan. "The truth is, neither of us has a complete blueprint of how this entire Glacier hellhole operates. We're flying blind in a mountain built by a dead man. We have to make absolutely sure we didn't leave any hidden compartments or secret seals behind. Search the marrow, search the stones. If there's nothing, we move the fuck on."
For the next fifteen minutes, the two of them systematically tore the chamber apart. Rayn used his wind blades to slice the largest remaining chunks of the titan's bone structure into microscopic slivers, looking for any hidden core, while Vespera shattered the stone pillars nearby to check for hidden spatial arrays. Nothing. The cavern was as barren as a picked carcass. The realization settled over Rayn like a suffocating shroud—the titan wasn't a treasure chest; it was just a giant, middle-finger security lock designed by Dawinton to weed out the weak cunts before they could see the real horrors of the deep.
With their figures fading into the heavy, suffocating darkness of the Glacier's lowest floor.
At the same time in Aetheleon, A magnificent black carriage, drawn by four celestial night-terrors with hooves of violet flame, glided silently across the pristine crystal roads of the capital city. Inside the velvet-lined interior of the carriage sat a man whose very existence was a testament to the unfairness of the heavens.
His face was incredibly handsome, sharp yet possessing an elegant, dangerous refinement. His skin was smooth and unnaturally pale, almost glowing with a faint, ghostly luminescence under the dim violet light crystals hanging from the carriage ceiling. His jawline was perfectly chiseled and noble, giving him the unmistakable appearance of a conqueror born from ancient, unbroken bloodlines. His lips were soft, pale pink, and slightly parted in a calm, entirely emotionless expression. He looked utterly untouchable, like an ice sculpture carved by a god who had forgotten how to feel empathy.
But the most striking, terrifying part of his visage lay within his eyes. They didn't possess normal irises; instead, they shone with a deep, radiant purple glow. They were cold, mysterious, and infinitely deep, resembling two ancient galaxies trapped inside an endless, starlit darkness. His gaze was perpetually half-lidded and brimming with an arrogant, absolute confidence—as if every mortal secret, every kingdom's downfall, and every soul's price was already written clearly in his palm. Those purple eyes made him look both breath-takingly beautiful and utterly horrific at the same time.
His long, crimson-red hair flowed past his shoulders in loose, cascading layers. The strands were silky, slightly messy, and vibrant, contrasting perfectly against the dark atmosphere of the carriage and his pale, porcelain skin. It looked like a crown of frozen flames resting on his head, with a few stray locks falling over his brow, adding to his mysterious, lethal charm.
He wore a pristine white shirt, the collar partially open to reveal his elegant collarbones, making him look relaxed yet inherently royal. Over the shirt was a rich, midnight-blue blazer, heavily decorated with intricate silver runes and royal ornaments that pulsed with raw spatial Gnosis. Purple jewels and heavy silver chains hung from his shoulders and lapels, reflecting his high status as a lord of the upper world.
This man was none other than King Nullus, the absolute ruler of the Darkness Faction and a Tier 2 powerhouse whose name made entire continents tremble.
The carriage slowed to a smooth stop. Nullus looked out the tinted crystal window. Towering before him was the grand gate of the Royal Palace of Aetheleon—a massive archway constructed from solid white jade and reinforced with dimensional barrier arrays that buzzed with the energy of a thousand lightning storms.
Nullus stepped out of the carriage, his long red hair catching the ambient starlight. As he approached the portal entrance of the palace, twelve elite guards clad in golden armor immediately stepped forward, their halberds crossing with a sharp, synchronized clang.
"Hold, King Nullus," the lead guard announced, his voice muffled by his runic visor. "By order of the Supreme Throne, all individuals entering the inner sanctum must undergo a spiritual and physical sweep for hidden curses, lethal artifacts, or unstable Gnosis. Step into the array."
Nullus let out a low, cold chuckle, his purple eyes flashing with a dangerous amusement. "You basic cunts really think a bunch of silver trinkets can hide inside my robes without me knowing? Do your job before I lose my patience and feed your souls to my night-terrors."
The guards shivered under his gaze but proceeded with the check. They ran a complex emerald detection crystal over his blue blazer, checking the folds of his clothes, his silver chains, and his spatial rings for any hidden items that could harm the supreme ruler. After three minutes of intense scrutiny, the array flashed green.
"You are cleared, King Nullus. Enter."
The jade gates slowly ground open, revealing a spatial portal that led directly into the heart of the supreme palace. Nullus stepped through the shimmering veil of light without a second glance.
The interior of the Royal Palace of Aetheleon was a display of wealth so vast it bordered on psychological warfare. The entire floor was made of pure, flawless white marble that reflected the vaulted ceilings like a mirror. Every pillar was wrapped in gold and silver filigree, inlaid with millions of carats of pristine diamonds that captured the ambient magical light and scattered it into blinding rainbows across the hall. It was a palace built on the bones of a million conquered worlds.
At the far end of the hall, elevated on a massive dais made of solid sapphire, sat the throne. And upon that throne sat the pinnacle of power in Aetheleon.
The man had long, deep blue hair that cascaded down his back like a frozen waterfall, and his eyes were a piercing, electric blue that seemed to hum with the power of a tempest. He wore a magnificent blue blazer, far more ornate than Nullus's, covered in ancient celestial sigils that represented the authority of the realm. He sat with his chin resting in his hand, looking down at the approaching red-haired king like a human looking at an ant.
This was King Rexus, the absolute Tier 1 sovereign of Aetheleon.
Nullus walked down the long marble aisle, his boots clicking rhythmically against the stone. He stopped at the base of the dais, his purple eyes meeting the electric blue gaze of the supreme monarch. He didn't kneel. He simply pulled out a luxurious velvet chair from thin air using his spatial ring, sat down, and crossed his legs with an air of complete equality.
"Good morning, King Rexus," Nullus said, his voice smooth and dripping with casual arrogance. "How the fuck are you doing on your high chair?"
Rexus didn't move a muscle. He slowly took his hand off his chin, his gaze intensifying until the literal air between them began to crackle with blue lightning. He looked directly into Nullus's chest, trying to pierce through his ribcage to read his very heartbeat. But Nullus simply smiled, his galaxy-like eyes remaining completely calm, devoid of even a single shred of fear.
Rexus narrowed his eyes, a low rumble of annoyance vibrating in his chest. "I see you're just like the rest of your pathetic lineage, Nullus. You guys don't even know the concept of the word 'fear'. You sit in my presence as if your life isn't hanging by a single thread of my whim."
"Fear is a useless emotion for people like us, sir," Nullus replied, leaning back in his chair and playing with one of the silver chains on his blazer. "That's not the matter I came here for. I am a busy man, and my night-terrors need feeding. Could you please explain the actual reason you called me to this gold-plated tomb before we continue this pointless small talk?"
Rexus's face darkened, his Tier 1 pressure leaking out for a split second, causing the heavy marble pillars near the throne to crack. "I want you to find someone for me, Nullus. A target that needs to be erased from the face from Aetheleon."