The morning mist clung to the cobblestones of Zephyros like a shroud.
Markil moved through the shadows of the back alleys, his presence blurred by a thin, vibrating layer of mana.
Slow... steady... he breathed, his heart rate barely rising.
He's a monster of perception, but even Maren has to sleep sometime. I just have to stay out of his line of sight. It's my only chance.
As he navigated the narrow paths, his mind flashed back to the previous day on the mountain.
He grit his teeth.
That bastard. I was literally on the verge of death, lungs burning, mana veins screaming, and what was he doing? Sitting on a gravity-defying chair, eating honey-glazed nuts and laughing!
"Focus, Markilli! You're melting your shoelaces!"
"I'm getting out of here," Markil whispered to himself.
"I don't care how strong he is. I'm not staying to be his entertainment."
Markil neared the Great Western Wall of the kingdom.
To his left, tucked into a damp alcove, he saw them.
An old man, his ribs visible through a tattered tunic, was cradling a small, shivering boy.
"Please, sir... a copper for my son?" the man begged, his eyes hollow and leaking tears.
"He hasn't eaten... he's so weak..."
Markil stopped.
He deactivated his stealth skills, the violet hum around him fading.
He looked at the boy, who reminded him of the version of himself he tried so hard to forget.
The world is the same everywhere, Markil thought bitterly.
Kings sit on velvet thrones while the foundation of their city rots and begs for bread.
He reached into his pouch, pulling out a small silver coin.
He began to walk toward them, his hand outstretched.
Then, the world turned gray.
A thunderous, bone-shaking CRACK echoed through the district.
In a terrifying blur of motion, a section of the massive kingdom wall—designed to withstand dragon fire—didn't just crumble; it exploded inward.
A jagged, three-ton slab of masonry caught the wind and slammed directly onto the alcove.
Markil's eyes widened.
"No—"
It was over in a heartbeat.
The beggar and his son were gone, replaced by a pile of rubble and a cloud of choking lime dust.
Around him, the street had turned into a slaughterhouse.
People who had been walking to work were now pinned under debris, their screams joining the chorus of collapsing buildings.
Markil stood frozen.
The silver coin was still in his hand.
He looked down; the dust was settling, and a dark, crimson liquid began to seep from under the rock, slowly staining the tips of Markil's boots.
Through the gaping hole in the wall, a figure stepped into the city.
He wasn't a monster.
He was a man.
He looked about 23, standing at 176 cm. His hair was a vibrant, toxic green that matched his cold, bored eyes.
Resting on his shoulder was a hammer so massive the head was nearly the size of a carriage.
On the metal surface of the weapon, ancient runes glowed with a sickening pale light.
The man touched his head, looking around the devastation with an annoyed sigh.
"Ugh. So he isn't here? Those rats at the border told me he'd be in this sector. Did they lie just to see me level a city?"
Markil's blood began to simmer.
He's looking for someone? He destroyed a city block just to find one person?
"HEY! YOU ASSHOLE!" Markil roared.
The man stopped.
He blinked, turning his gaze toward the masked boy standing amidst the wreckage.
"Oh? Someone survived that? Good for you, bug."
"Are you looking for me?" Markil demanded, his purple aura beginning to leak from his pores like poisonous smoke.
"I'm right here!"
The man tilted his head, looking genuinely confused.
"Who the hell are you? Some low-rent masked vigilante?"
He let out a dry, condescending laugh.
"Why would I be looking for a bitch like you? I'm looking for someone worth my time. Someone with a title I want to take."
Markil's jaw tightened.
"You killed them. You killed all of them just to make an entrance?"
The man smiled.
It was a creepy, wide grin that didn't reach his eyes.
"Tell me, how are you even standing? Everyone else in a fifty-yard radius is paste. You didn't get a single scratch. Are you some high-grade knight playing dress-up?"
Markil didn't answer.
He focused.
He activated his Kareno Eyes, and the world turned into a stream of data.
He focused on the hammer.
Weapon Analysis: The Ruin-Bringer
Molecular Vibration: Upon impact, the hammer sends high-frequency vibrations through the enemy's body, liquefying organs and shattering bones from the inside out.
Gravity Wells: Every swing creates a localized gravity well. It pulls the target's limbs toward the point of impact, making retreat impossible.
Markil looked at the blood touching his shoes.
The old man's blood.
"Why?" Markil asked, his voice dangerously low.
"Why did you have to buzz in like this if you were just looking for someone?"
The green-haired man laughed, the sound echoing off the ruins.
"Because, boy, 'The Strongest' won't show his face for a polite knock. I want his title. And besides..."
He looked at the bodies under the rubble and licked his lips.
"I love this scene. These insects getting crushed under my feet... men, women, children... they're just statistics. I love the way the world looks when it's broken."
The First Lesson Applied
The man didn't see it happen.
One moment, Markil was twenty feet away.
The next, the air behind the man's head screamed.
"What—?!" The man gasped, spinning his hammer around.
He tried to activate the Gravity Well to shield himself, but he was too slow.
Markil wasn't just using his speed.
He was using the Marcer barrier to reduce air resistance and his new Precision training to focus his entire chaotic output into a single point.
Aura Fists... mixed with the vibration of the Marcer...
"This isn't for the kingdom," Markil hissed.
"This is for the coin I didn't get to give him."
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
Markil's fist, encased in a swirling, concentrated vortex of purple energy, slammed into the man's side.
The impact didn't just throw him—it ignited the air.
The ground beneath them shattered in a spiderweb of cracks for thirty meters.
The green-haired man was launched like a cannonball, his body trailing a streak of violet fire as he smashed through three intact buildings before disappearing into a pile of stone.
Markil stood in the center of the new crater, his hand smoking, his eyes burning with a cold, murderous light.
Maren was right about one thing, Markil thought, looking at the destruction.
I am a monster.
But today... I'm a monster with a target.
(Chapter 47 Finished)