Aetherborne Infinte Glitch

Chapter 6: The Geometry Of Isolation

The deeper one descended into the monoliths of Outer Bank X, the more the world twisted into something unrecognizable. The [Imp King’s Abode] didn't look like a cavern; it looked like a primordial nightmare. The first floor was a suffocating jungle of bioluminescent fungi and iron-barked trees. Here, the Goblins didn't just wander; they patrolled in disciplined squads of five, their green-scaled skin acting as natural camouflage against the rotting foliage.

In a standard D-Rank raid, a party of ten would move with agonizing caution. One stray arrow, one tripped vine, and a signal horn would bring the entire floor down on their heads. To be surrounded by fifteen D-Rank Goblins was a death sentence for most.

Axel stood in a clearing, his [Camouflage] flickering as he intentionally stepped into the light. A group of five Goblins—each three meters tall with slabs of muscle like cured leather—hissed. Four gripped spiked maces; the fifth, draped in the bones of fallen hunters, raised a jagged staff.

"Let’s see if the old ways still hold," Axel whispered.

He fired an [Ignis Spark]. The pellet of white fire, now at Level 98, screamed through the air and detonated against the lead Imp’s chest. The impact was massive, a gout of steam and light, but as the smoke cleared, the beast snarled. Its thick, emerald scales were charred and cracked, but it remained standing.

Axel nodded to himself. The Rank-F spark had hit its limit. Against D-Rank monsters with high physical resistance, it was a nuisance, not a killer.

The Goblins roared and charged.

"Enough testing," Axel said, his eyes glowing with a faint, crystalline blue light. He raised his hand, fingers splayed. [Flames of Torment].

A jagged line of searing, violet-tinted fire erupted from his palm. Instead of firing it like a projectile, Axel held the "root" of the spell in his hand. He swung his arm in a wide, horizontal arc. The pillar of fire acted like a three-meter whip of pure plasma. It didn't just burn; it bisected.

The two Goblins on the right didn't even have time to scream. The fiery rope passed through their waists with a sickening sizzle, leaving cauterized halves to slide apart in the dirt.

The remaining two tried to flee. Axel didn't let them. With a flick of his wrist, he commanded the pillar to coil. The fire snaked through the air, wrapping around the Goblins in a spiraling cocoon of heat. They were reduced to charcoal in seconds, their internal fluids boiling into a foul-smelling mist.

"Proficiency is everything," Axel murmured, watching the flickering 'rope' of fire. He had realized that a skill wasn't just a button to be pressed; it was a tool to be shaped. By concentrating, he could make the pillar spin, coil, or thrust like a rapier.

He spent the next ninety minutes descending through the twenty-nine floors of the Abode. He became a ghost of fire. He tested [Camouflage], finding he could walk within meters of a Hobgoblin before their primitive senses alerted them to the displacement of air. He tested his defenses, letting a Imp Mage’s lightning bolt strike his [Arcanist’s Sphere]. The energy simply washed over the translucent blue shell, absorbed by the infinite Aether that fueled his existence.

By the time he reached the bottom of the final staircase, he was no longer the boy who hid in the basement. He was a force of nature.

The Boss Room was a cathedral of black stone. At its center sat a mountain of dark, leathery flesh. The Imp King stood six meters tall, its skin polished to a metallic black sheen. It had no weapons, for its fists were the size of boulders.

Axel didn't hide. He deactivated [Camouflage] and walked into the center of the arena. The King’s eyes, pits of ancient malice, locked onto him instantly. It didn't roar. It simply rose, the ground shaking with its weight.

Axel laughed. It was a jagged, exhilarating sound. "Show me what it takes to kill a King."

He charged. The King met him halfway, a black fist the size of a car descending like a falling star.

BOOM!

The impact created a crater. Axel felt the shockwave travel through his [Arcanist’s Sphere]. He was catapulted backward, smashing into the stone wall with enough force to create a spiderweb of cracks. He slid to the floor, panting—not from pain, but from the raw, kinetic thrill.

He was unharmed. The Rank C defense had held perfectly.

The King let out a mournful, confused howl. It had expected a red smear; it found a living boy. As the beast lunged again, Axel manifested his pillar of flames, but this time, he looped the ends together, creating a spinning saw-blade of fire.

ZZZING!

The sound of the flaming saw cutting through the King's remaining arm was like a scream of metal. Flesh, bone, and black scales were carved away. Axel stepped inside the beast’s guard, commanded the spinning fire to rise, and with a single, brutal flick, he severed the King's head.

The mountain of flesh crashed to the floor. Silence reclaimed the Abode.

Axel stood over the decapitated titan, his chest heaving. He reached into the cooling gore and retrieved the drops. Along with a pile of D-Rank Shards, he found a skill book—[Glacial Shards]—and a piece of equipment that made him pause.

[King’s Valor].

It was a suit of dark, malleable plate armor that pulsed with a faint violet light. He put it on, feeling the metal magically adjust to his frame. It didn't hinder his movement; it felt like a second skin, providing a baseline of physical protection that would complement his Aetheric shields.

He sat by the Boss's corpse and began to consume the Shards. He felt his Constitution and Might rising, his bones becoming denser, his reflexes sharpening. He wouldn't stop until he hit the Rank D ceiling of 100 attribute points.

"I need more," he whispered. "I need the skills that stay."

He exited the dungeon, his [Camouflage] active once more. He walked past the guards, past the bustling markets of hunters trading scraps, and headed into the heart of the city. He didn't see the black-clad observers in the shadows, but he felt their presence through [Danger Sense].

He knew Drago Richmond was looking for him.

Meanwhile, in the Richmond Manor, the tension was thick enough to choke.

"You lost him?" Drago’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble. He didn't look at his butler, Vax, who was standing with his head bowed in the center of the study.

"He vanished in the downtown district, sir. He’s using a high-tier stealth skill. It’s... unnatural."

Drago turned, a glass of expensive amber liquid in his hand. "He’s an anomaly, Vax. A natural-born talent with an Aether pool that doesn't seem to drain. If I can't control him, I’ll have to break him. But first, I need him forHelion’s Castle. That dungeon is hungry, and I’m tired of feeding it my own men."

"Sir," Vax said, his voice hesitant. "My concern is that we don't know his ceiling. He might be more than a Rank C."

"Nobody in this backwater city is more than me," Drago snapped, shattering the glass in his hand. The shards fell to the carpet, glowing with the orange light of his B-Rank Aether. "I am the only one who holds the key to our survival. If Axel thinks he can hide in my city, he’s mistaken."

Axel spent the next six hours like a machine. He cleared the [Imp King’s Abode] two more times. He moved with a brutal, clinical efficiency, ignoring the screams of the monsters and the exhaustion of his body. By the end of the day, his backpack was a treasure chest of Rank D loot.

He returned to the Awakened Center under a false ID. He was greeted by a middle-aged manager in a private room, a man whose eyes widened as Axel began to pull Rank D skills and items from his pack like he was emptying a grocery bag.

"One point six million dollars," the manager whispered, his hands trembling as he processed the transfer. "Mr... Smith, I’ve never seen a solo haul like this from the Abode."

"I have a list," Axel said, ignoring the man's shock. "I need these three tomes. I don't care about the price."

Ten minutes later, Axel sat in the backseat of a car, three Rank C tomes resting on his lap. He had spent 1.5 million dollars in a single breath, leaving him with a mere $100,000 in his account. But as he looked at the titles, he knew the investment was worth it.

He needed to be ready forHelion’s Castle. He needed to be the one who survived when everyone else fell.

He opened the first book.

[Axel Jetters] [Occupation: Hunter]

[Constitution: 100]

[Might: 100]

[Aether: — ]

[Skill: Ignis Spark (Level 100 - MAX)]

[Skill: Glacial Aegis (Level 95)]

[Skill: Arcanist’s Sphere of Protection (Level 25)]

[Skill: Flames of Torment (Level 49)]

[Skill: Camouflage (Level 3)]

[Equipment: King’s Valor (Rank D), Swift Boots (Rank E)]

"Three days," Axel said, looking out at the Axel lights of Outer Bank X. "Let's see if Drago Richmond can keep up with the man he invited to his graveyard."