The forest air was still—charged thick with the scent of scorched trees and ruptured dimensions.
Boa's ruined corpse lay slashed clean down the middle, blood already cooling, he twitched once… then went still for good.
I stepped over him without pause.
My hand hovered.
A pulse of energy flickered from my palm as I activated my spatial storage. The remains of the once-boasting demon were sucked cleanly into my storage space—gone in an instant. No trace. No blood.
Only silence.
But my eyes weren't on the corpse.
They were locked on the rift.
A tear in reality—where Cil and I had carved the plane itself with that final strike. The space rippled, bled silver and violet strands. Its edges sizzled with unstable energy. And through it—faint, but undeniable—I felt it.
The outside world.
Freedom.
Or another battlefield.
My fingers twitched around Cil's hilt.
"…A way out," I muttered.
And without hesitation—I stepped into the rift.
Behind me, the forest vanished like smoke.
---
**Location: City of Roses**
**Sector: Western Border, Redlight Province**
**Time: Duskfall**
The evening sun bled across the marble spires of the City Lord's Mansion, painting its archways in soft gold. Lanterns flickered to life, casting quiet shadows over the polished garden stones.
Inside the council chamber, a man in black robes knelt before a obsidian throne.
"Lord… a spatial rift has appeared just beyond the western gate."
The City Lord turned slowly. His appearance was that of a middle-aged man—but his eyes spoke differently.
"Describe the energy."
"Unknown, my lord. The readings collapse on approach. Whatever it is… it doesn't belong here."
A long silence.
Then—
"I will see it myself."
The man's shoulders stiffened.
"But—my lord—"
"Mobilize the Phantom Twelve."
The words cut like iron.
The messenger's eyes widened.
"Yes… yes, Lord Anastas."
He bowed so deeply his forehead touched the polished obsidian floor.
Then he was gone.
Wind stirred through the high windows.
And beyond the city walls… the rift pulsed in silence.
Something had come through.
---
"Fresh air." I took a deep breath.
Behind me, the rift closed slowly with a faint ripple. I scanned my surroundings.
The City of Roses.
Wasn't this the destination of my predecessor?
I walked forward, approaching the city gates.
"Halt, vile beast!"
A voice barked from the towering wall. Arrows aimed at me.
I blinked.
Was he talking to me?
I glanced down at myself—blood-soaked. Right.
I sheathed Cil, then in an instant appeared behind the man aiming at me, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I mean no harm. I'm a human."
But he vanished.
"Teleportation," I muttered. "Humans in this world are truly interesting."
A second later—six figures appeared behind me, brandishing weapons.
I unsheathed Cil.
Their attacks crashed into me—I blocked them all.
"Cover me."
Flames wrapped around my form. Instantly I was encased in fire.
"Burst."
BOOM!
The explosion knocked the six attackers backward. The smoke cleared.
"I told you. I'm human."
But they weren't listening.
They attacked again with insane rhythm. I moved between their strikes—eyes reading every angle.
Late stages of the Recognition Realm.
Above, a voice crackled through the air.
"My sight is locked on him, Captain. Should I shoot?"
The captain was about to reply—until he noticed my gaze fixed on him.
His eyes widened.
"This guy… is dangerous."
The chief felt it from my stare alone. Pressure. Raw.
"Don't shoot."
He pulled a tiny orb from his pocket and tossed it skyward.
**BOOM.**
It exploded in a flare—and the squad vanished instantly.
Only one remained.
A lone figure descended slowly—calm, confident. His aura announced Awakening Realm.
Humans can fly… or maybe just this one. Boa never flew—maybe he was too fat to carry his weight.
The man hovered. Then landed.
"I am the chief of the Phantom Twelve. You came from the rift. So—who are you? Or should I say what are you?"
He released his aura. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade. His eyes were closed.
I ignored his question.
"What's wrong with your eyes?"
Another aura burst forward—this one tinged with anger.
"Tell your guards to stand down." I said.
He clicked his tongue. Annoyed now.
"I thought this empire understood what the white hair stood for."
The chief's expression changed.
"You—you're a Godfall."
"Bingo," I said calmly. "I am Dax Godfall. Son of Omin Godfall."
Silence.
Then—
"My apologies, Lord Dax."
Thoughts ran through his head.
*This clan… the bloodthirsty monsters of legend…*
Suddenly, a loud laugh rang through the air.
"Ah! You are truly the son of Omin."
An old man descended slowly, robes flowing like smoke. He landed beside me and clapped a hand on my shoulder.
My senses lit up.
This man… was strong.
"I see you're doing well," he smiled.
"Yes, City Lord."
"No, my boy. Call me Uncle. Your father and I go way back. You don't remember, but I carried you when you were a baby."
"Oh? I see…"
I reached into my storage and drew out a glowing fruit. Fruit of Rebirth.
"Then, Uncle—accept my gift."
Vitality surged from the fruit in waves.
The City Lord's eyes widened.
"What is that?" He reached—then stopped himself. "I can't accept this. It's too precious."
"No, Uncle. It's yours."
In a swift motion, he stored it in his ring.
Such a sly fox.
"I'm sure you're hungry."
He smiled. "Let's talk over dinner."
---
I was welcomed warmly at the City Lord's palace. My room—luxurious. The servants—efficient. The food—abundant.
Over dinner, we spoke.
Minutes into our talk, he leaned forward.
"How did you end up in the rift?"
I told him—briefly—how I ended up in that world.
"You survived… in a broken world?" He stared, stunned.
"How?"
I stayed silent.
He coughed lightly. "Hmm. This young one is… too mysterious."
He leaned back.
"Rumors say you were trash. Are people blind? If you're trash—what's the rest of the world?"
"I watched you fight the Phantom Twelve. You're not weak. The mana surging from you was unrestrained."
His eyes narrowed.
"This man—his gaze is sharp."
"Yes, Dax. That fruit you gave me… what is it?"
I smiled faintly.
"Have a bite. You'll have a clue."
"I see you have a nasty wound on your abdomen. Try it."
His expression darkened. "How do you know that?" His aura leaked—sharp, suffocating.
"No one knows except my wife."
"Uncle, calm down." I dragged down one eyelid. "My eyes are special."
He stilled.
"…Sorry. I lost my temper."
"No stress, Uncle."
He retrieved the fruit.
Its vitality flooded the room.
He hesitated. Then devoured it whole.
In an instant—his hair darkened. His posture straightened. His body pulsed with power.
The room trembled. He floated into the air—eyes closed, meditating.
The injury on his abdomen healed completely.
Old wounds vanished.
Slowly… he returned to his youth.
I stood.
"I'll be taking my leave."
And strode toward the room I was assigned.
The night behind me folded into silence. The path ahead—glowed.